- Feb 8, 2023
- 74
- 39
- 18
Through the passing of her mentor, the girl's senses were imbued with a newfound duality of contrasting perceptions. Grief came initially, burrowing a far-reaching chasm into the depths of her gut. Insatiable and consuming, this strange feeling punctured a proverbial hole into her spirit and left her eyes a little less bright, her ears a little less attentive to the world around her. Intertwined with this grief was doubt. A doubt most severe, most invidious, like thorny vines enwrapping the roots of her faith. It tainted her memories of the frost-touched tom with hints of suspicion, and cast a cloud of skepticism over the bond she thought they shared.
Is Tigerfrost's spirit among those woven into the blanket of the night sky, she would wonder. Should he sit among the starry constellations, a whisper in the cosmic winds, would he bother with watching the lands below? Does his transition to StarClan detach him from any care he once held for her? The answers elude Moorpaw, and that she may never know them left an indelible mark of sadness on her innermost self.
Her chin rests atop folded paws, the tip of her tail grazing against low-lying branches of the gorse wall. It is in the far reaches of camp where she can wallow without drawing unneeded attention; as a staunch WindClan cat, Moorpaw prefers to conceal any vulnerability she may exhibit, especially after witnessing how stoic her clanmates were in these times of adversity. Sootstar would want it this way, and her father would want it this way, too. And even with the doubts she held harboured about him, Moorpaw is certain Tigerfrost would want it that way as well.
// @whitepaw
Is Tigerfrost's spirit among those woven into the blanket of the night sky, she would wonder. Should he sit among the starry constellations, a whisper in the cosmic winds, would he bother with watching the lands below? Does his transition to StarClan detach him from any care he once held for her? The answers elude Moorpaw, and that she may never know them left an indelible mark of sadness on her innermost self.
Her chin rests atop folded paws, the tip of her tail grazing against low-lying branches of the gorse wall. It is in the far reaches of camp where she can wallow without drawing unneeded attention; as a staunch WindClan cat, Moorpaw prefers to conceal any vulnerability she may exhibit, especially after witnessing how stoic her clanmates were in these times of adversity. Sootstar would want it this way, and her father would want it this way, too. And even with the doubts she held harboured about him, Moorpaw is certain Tigerfrost would want it that way as well.
// @whitepaw