so goodbye yellow brick road || frog's croak

Leaping Toad's death had left shattered her heart while Bone, Cicada, and the rest of the marsh cats broke her mind. All of her life she'd fought by their sides. All of her life she'd been loyal, devoted, and responsible. All of her life she had tried desperately to keep their bellies fed. It hadn't been enough. It would never be enough. In their eyes, she was a traitor, a kittypet loyalist, and someone who only selfishly cared about themself and their family. Once upon a time, Salamander had viewed each and every marsh cat part of her family. But they never had. The realization that they'd be willing to push her aside the moment she showed weakness, the moment she tried to voice her opinions...

They had never really cared for her, had they?

And what of her family? Surely they blamed her for Leaping Toad's death. Surely they were ashamed to share blood with her. She was weak and brought dishonor to their name. Even though Bone attacked her first, even though Bone might have killed her had she not engaged, she'd attacked a fellow marsh cat. And the worst part was that she had been ready to shove aside the moral code engraved into her heart. She had been ready to kill the black and white she-cat.

The marsh itself felt like it was trying to drown her. She needed to leave. Not only for herself, not only to seek vengeance on those who helped orchestrate Leaping Toad's death but for her remaining family.

"Father." No, that wasn't right. "Frog's Croak. Before I leave, I wish to renounce the name gifted to me at birth and return it. I have soiled the name and am no longer fit to carry it."

ooc:// @Frog's Croak
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[ A month later and i finally have the muse... so sorry about the wait, if you still want to continue this I'll make it timely from here on ]

"You're leavin'?"

That first bit of news is slow to hit him, something that doesn't quite register in his old mind. Season after season, he's had his children here with him, born and raised in this swamp. To leave, it's something he could hardly picture.

And yet, he doesn't find himself all too surprised. Whatever answer she gives is not something he would try and sway. Kithood is long behind Salamander now. He knew better than to treat her as one. The wane in her dedication to the swamp shined clear in his eyes. The decision to leave, it's one he could accept, even if is not one he's fond of, but the following...

He sets his jaw in a grimace, nose wrinkling with the newfound information. Were these old ears failing on him so suddenly? "What's this about renouncin' a name?" he asks, gruff voice laced with disbelief. "M' afraid that's not how names work, Sal" he mutters with a dry snort, hoping this was part of some joke he didn't understand, rather than anything serious. "No one is thinkin' that way but you."

For a moment, he scans her expression. Her jaw is tight, eyes fogged over and downcast. Any spark that remained there seemed snuffed out, drowned by the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. He could understand the feeling. A younger version of him may have felt the same, emboldened by the heat of the battle and drawn into the depths of what it created. He heaves a heavy sigh, nostrils flaring with the weight of it all. "S' not yer fault, Sal."
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