- Feb 20, 2023
- 324
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He had made his escape from the suffocating confines of camp, ducking out of the hollow without a word, trekking out onto the frozen moors and taking his place upon one of the rolling hills. There was much—too much—to think about. Even the fact that he was soon going to become a father was being actively overshadowed by the sense of dread that sat like a stone in his stomach. What future would there be for his kits?
Possibly, very possibly, death. He thinks of Sedgepounce being swallowed by the river. He thinks of his mother's cold husk. He thinks of the empty, soulless stares of his clanmates that had met their end over the seasons — Juniperfrost, Weaselclaw, even recent slaughterings from the battle against the rebels. He thinks of the rogue that Sparkspirit had killed. He thinks of the way Sootstar had sliced Larkfeather's belly open and swiftly ended her agony with a chilling crack.
He thinks of the injured rabbit that he had found near the Thunderpath, desperately clinging to life as it hobbled toward safety. Snakehiss had tossed it back into harm's way then, twistedly observing as a monster trampled every last essence of life out of it. Maybe Snakehiss finally knew what the crippled rabbit felt like; helpless and scared, beaten and bloodied from all angles, just trying to make it to the other side where things would perhaps turn out okay... and Sootstar was the one who would lob him back onto the road to meet his end.
Or... maybe it wasn't Sootstar, after all. Maybe it was he who had sealed his own fate.
He could not truly pray; the others would sooner have his head than confide in the starry cats that Sootstar had long since abandoned. He only gazes upon the stars now, hoping that StarClan is powerful enough to read minds. Silverpelt seems dimmer than usual tonight, though faint specks of light twinkle in the reflection of his eyes. At first Snakehiss had been so certain that he had made the right choices, that he could someday reclaim WindClan for his ancestors, but now that Sedgepounce was gone... Would StarClan forgive him, or was it too late?
Possibly, very possibly, death. He thinks of Sedgepounce being swallowed by the river. He thinks of his mother's cold husk. He thinks of the empty, soulless stares of his clanmates that had met their end over the seasons — Juniperfrost, Weaselclaw, even recent slaughterings from the battle against the rebels. He thinks of the rogue that Sparkspirit had killed. He thinks of the way Sootstar had sliced Larkfeather's belly open and swiftly ended her agony with a chilling crack.
He thinks of the injured rabbit that he had found near the Thunderpath, desperately clinging to life as it hobbled toward safety. Snakehiss had tossed it back into harm's way then, twistedly observing as a monster trampled every last essence of life out of it. Maybe Snakehiss finally knew what the crippled rabbit felt like; helpless and scared, beaten and bloodied from all angles, just trying to make it to the other side where things would perhaps turn out okay... and Sootstar was the one who would lob him back onto the road to meet his end.
Or... maybe it wasn't Sootstar, after all. Maybe it was he who had sealed his own fate.
He could not truly pray; the others would sooner have his head than confide in the starry cats that Sootstar had long since abandoned. He only gazes upon the stars now, hoping that StarClan is powerful enough to read minds. Silverpelt seems dimmer than usual tonight, though faint specks of light twinkle in the reflection of his eyes. At first Snakehiss had been so certain that he had made the right choices, that he could someday reclaim WindClan for his ancestors, but now that Sedgepounce was gone... Would StarClan forgive him, or was it too late?
- ooooop this turned out kinda rambly. still open for replies though!
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