- May 2, 2023
- 621
- 187
- 43
✦˚.✦˚✦˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✦˚✦˚✦.˚✦
-
There's no one else to blame.
A panicked gasp leaves her sitting upright amongst stardust pasture, the scent of petrichor and spring blooms wafting in a breeze that has no air. The quiet here so loudly contrasts the crunching of dirt under-paw, the sound of her own skin tearing in panicked dance with her stubborn will to flee and the reality that demands her death. Breath hitches in her chest and despite her anxiousness to look around these aster fields, her heart does not flutter like a wild bird under her ribs. The familiar sound of crystal streams nearby serve only to make her pelt stand on end, a distinct feeling of wrongness settling in her bones- I don't belong here... Lichentail fights with their return to this place, thinks to cry and beg that they aren't ready to join their friends and family here... that they can't abandon a honey-sweet mate and the blossoms they'd sown into the dirt and nurtured to grow-
Lichenstar's jaw locks, gritting her teeth in a bid to silence their kitten-screams. Memory trickles in slower than the phantom of her soul, fainter than the ether-woven cats that stare at her with pity. She swears she hears a familiar, chiding laugh of a rival, a friend... hidden in its amusement are words that dig into the softest part of her, You never were the better fighter... Pale eyes narrow, transfixed on a single blade of dancing grass in frustrated agreement. I guess I'm not...
She isn't sure how long they sit with her, in that serene silence... waiting for her inevitable departure, one that would happen time and again until it finally stopped. Until she could embrace her son in permanent reverie... Serve as a member of a council vastly different from the one left below. It drones on for far too long for her liking and almost worried she has found herself a mimicry of her predecessor, her head snaps up to look at a him as if he'd heard her feverish thoughts. They share that stare for many moments, a frown lining both of their faces as if they both share in the disappointment. "You never told me...."
And here her voice does not warble or grate, untouched by the physical with no body to care after. "How much it hurts..."
Still, even now uncertainty embeds itself between the bones of her spine, lodges in her throat and hangs there like a suffocating poison. If he had made the wrong choice in her... would StarClan say so? Or would she be allowed to spiral into madness, impaled by the carcasses of her losses that dug in with every step yet no one could see?
"Do you still trust me...?"
It's asked without thought... tumbling headfirst over the edge of a waterfall- the real question remained hidden behind her teeth, Does anyone still trust me...? -
about
speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
ooc notes ✦
tagging ✶
penned by tieirlys -
˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ .
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦ . . ˚ ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦ ˚ ✦ . . ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦
