- Dec 31, 2022
- 158
- 46
- 28
.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG
On still-unsteady legs, Sunflowerpaw emerges from the hollow of the medicine den into the warm, sunlit camp.
There is a glinting in their eye, a brightness to their features, a determination in their step. It's been a full moon, now, since the apprentice had been caught in the strange, metallic jaws of a twoleg trap. They bear the scars of it, still: though their long fur hides any true scarring, the awkward holding of their left front paw reveals the true repercussion of their late-night excursion. The injury, in truth, was not as bad as it seemed. A minor dislocation; they hold little strength in their body, and so in their pulling and twisting in the trap's jaws they could only do so much harm.
But Vulturemask has little experience with such injuries. He did his best, they know. He did all he could. Gave them all the pain medicine he could, went to the medicine cat meeting for the first time, all to help them. His little sibling. Gratitude wraps its way around their limbs, their chest, gripping tight. But still, they could not make a full recovery. The lack of immediacy had a cost; a lingering stiffness to their paw, the occasional twinge of pain should they use it too much. They avoid placing it upon the ground when they can, holding it up and away. But they can walk. A limping walk, stuttering yet confident. It's as good as it'll be getting, it seems. Or, at the very least, it doesn't seem like it'll get any worse.
This is fine. They can adapt.
Vulturemask has given them the okay, now, to return to their apprentice duties. Finally. It's been torturous, lying in the medicine den for a whole moon, boredom eating away at them. It was restlessness that drove them from the camp that night, and as penance it rendered them unable to leave again. They are not a patient cat, but they have had to learn. So they will try to be patient now, as they adjust to their newly-limping gait. They can't wait to be able to rejoin the apprentices. Being confined to their nest so soon after being apprenticed hurt. Watching their littermates train without them, watching their friends be apprenticed, all from the mouth of the medicine den, unable to share in their excitement. Not anymore.
Making their way to out into the camp, Sunflowerpaw's face bears a small smile. Their tail is lifted high as they look around camp, eager for something to do. They golden-eyed gaze searches -- for Wolfsong, maybe, or one of the other apprentices. They walk with pride despite their lasting limp. Look at me, they seem to be saying. I can still walk, I got better, I made it.
There is a glinting in their eye, a brightness to their features, a determination in their step. It's been a full moon, now, since the apprentice had been caught in the strange, metallic jaws of a twoleg trap. They bear the scars of it, still: though their long fur hides any true scarring, the awkward holding of their left front paw reveals the true repercussion of their late-night excursion. The injury, in truth, was not as bad as it seemed. A minor dislocation; they hold little strength in their body, and so in their pulling and twisting in the trap's jaws they could only do so much harm.
But Vulturemask has little experience with such injuries. He did his best, they know. He did all he could. Gave them all the pain medicine he could, went to the medicine cat meeting for the first time, all to help them. His little sibling. Gratitude wraps its way around their limbs, their chest, gripping tight. But still, they could not make a full recovery. The lack of immediacy had a cost; a lingering stiffness to their paw, the occasional twinge of pain should they use it too much. They avoid placing it upon the ground when they can, holding it up and away. But they can walk. A limping walk, stuttering yet confident. It's as good as it'll be getting, it seems. Or, at the very least, it doesn't seem like it'll get any worse.
This is fine. They can adapt.
Vulturemask has given them the okay, now, to return to their apprentice duties. Finally. It's been torturous, lying in the medicine den for a whole moon, boredom eating away at them. It was restlessness that drove them from the camp that night, and as penance it rendered them unable to leave again. They are not a patient cat, but they have had to learn. So they will try to be patient now, as they adjust to their newly-limping gait. They can't wait to be able to rejoin the apprentices. Being confined to their nest so soon after being apprenticed hurt. Watching their littermates train without them, watching their friends be apprenticed, all from the mouth of the medicine den, unable to share in their excitement. Not anymore.
Making their way to out into the camp, Sunflowerpaw's face bears a small smile. Their tail is lifted high as they look around camp, eager for something to do. They golden-eyed gaze searches -- for Wolfsong, maybe, or one of the other apprentices. They walk with pride despite their lasting limp. Look at me, they seem to be saying. I can still walk, I got better, I made it.
IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀
