- Jul 8, 2022
- 197
- 33
- 28
the waters, life-giving and healing, have been her home for 22 moons. the grounds are filled with her, blood and tears and true morality. she can not imagine her without the currents of the river, the river cannot imagine her without it. perhaps she is obsessed, focuses too much on a body of water to give her life a purpose. perhaps she actually understands the streams, speaks the way the trout and salmon do. moves the way the rabbits do. she is so ingrained in the area that her blood may flow in the way the river does.
her eyes, pale and harsh and true, look toward her closest companions. caraway, a close friend to the buck-skinned molly. came from the moving land that the two-legs hold, but she was water-bound. it's what made buck accept them. love them in a way family was. in a way, they were kin with all the moons spent together. safe, and calm. raccoon is similar in kinship, she views them similar to a little sibling, perhaps one she never had. both are loved dearly by her. both are protected by her constant refusal of the outsiders.
and now they are here. she heard of their fighting, brutal and unneeded. and now they are here. buck would never admit it, the slight fear eating away at her. she cannot take on a hoard of felines, but she was always a martyr. she fears they may slaughter her, her kin, her river. it can't happen.
"I hate these forest cats." her voice is rough, a western tale that plays in her throat and coats each word so delicately. "they're brutes. all o'em." her distain for these creatures are evident in the way she watches them. watching them claim something that is not theirs. she is no leader, but that does not mean she won't try to exert some control. even to her comrades, who could never truly flee from her ire. "this is not riverclan. this is the river. we will not bow to them. make friends if you want, but I want them gone. i won't let this place be taken over by greed." they are free to join these treacherous souls, but they will be marked as a traitor to buck. and such is not a beautiful fate. her voice, intent, goals, are clear. the way the woman holds herself makes everything known.
these cats are dangerous and not to be trusted. neither is she.
@caraway @Raccoonpaw
her eyes, pale and harsh and true, look toward her closest companions. caraway, a close friend to the buck-skinned molly. came from the moving land that the two-legs hold, but she was water-bound. it's what made buck accept them. love them in a way family was. in a way, they were kin with all the moons spent together. safe, and calm. raccoon is similar in kinship, she views them similar to a little sibling, perhaps one she never had. both are loved dearly by her. both are protected by her constant refusal of the outsiders.
and now they are here. she heard of their fighting, brutal and unneeded. and now they are here. buck would never admit it, the slight fear eating away at her. she cannot take on a hoard of felines, but she was always a martyr. she fears they may slaughter her, her kin, her river. it can't happen.
"I hate these forest cats." her voice is rough, a western tale that plays in her throat and coats each word so delicately. "they're brutes. all o'em." her distain for these creatures are evident in the way she watches them. watching them claim something that is not theirs. she is no leader, but that does not mean she won't try to exert some control. even to her comrades, who could never truly flee from her ire. "this is not riverclan. this is the river. we will not bow to them. make friends if you want, but I want them gone. i won't let this place be taken over by greed." they are free to join these treacherous souls, but they will be marked as a traitor to buck. and such is not a beautiful fate. her voice, intent, goals, are clear. the way the woman holds herself makes everything known.
these cats are dangerous and not to be trusted. neither is she.
@caraway @Raccoonpaw
[ MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ]