private the world sleeps | osprey

[scorchfrost]

It had been a while since Scorchfrost had left Shadowclan territory. He couldn't say he had any particular reason now, he'd not been taken by a whim or any inspiration to explore, not seen something interesting in the distance or followed prey past the border, he'd just stopped, thought for a moment, and kept walking. He allowed himself to be confined by borders in such a permanent way when, really, there was nothing saying he couldn't have his own excursions.

He was however, even though he wouldn't always admit it to himself, a warrior through and through, and he didn't stray too far from Shadowclan. He'd still be able to run back if need called for it.

Scorchfrost meandered his way around what he liked to refer to as 'public land', though it was truly just normal land, and allowed himself to take a break. He'd been learning of the importance of such things recently. His bones were growing wearier by the day and the weight that built in his chest more substantial, so he stopped and allowed the burden to ease. He found a lovely looking tree, lowered himself to his stomach in its shade, and closed his eyes.

His ears were on a swivel, his guard was not down, but he was enjoying himself. The birds found their voices in the oncoming dawn, telling all near and far that it would soon be time to settle in for the night. Insects, with their protesting chirps and clacks and ticks, began to rise above the chorus to celebrate another day well lived. There was no grander life than that of a bug. Scorchfrost envied the richly living nature of such creatures. If he couldn't join them, his raspy call could not hope to fit in their songs, he'd at least provide an audience.
​

[ YOU CAN'T BREAK MY SPIRIT ]​

 

[OSPREY]

Monstrosity prowled through the forest, with glare glazed in pride and ivories bared in victory. Scars from a recent battle adorned her pelt like fleshed ribbons of honor, marks of claw and tooth a lasting fruit of her labors. Osprey had been staying with the Redwater Rogues, or whatever they called themselves (she didn't care enough to truly stick it in her brain), but even that had seemed to run its course. Although the promise of food and security enticed the soon-to-be-greying she-cat, her paws longed for other lands. She had not truly left yet, but plans to escape into the dead of night had been ripe on the molly's mind. Prodigious daughter knew there were better things on the horizon, and so she chased that everlasting sun like the dog to its own tail. She navigated the world as a bird - a free-flying, liberated beast of which only the celestial spread higher than its wings. Miscreated from the hands that did not design her so, she would forge her own path.

Which is what she would have thought of herself if she cared about her destiny and her legacy and all that. She just did what she wanted to do in the moment. There was no higher meaning to be gleaned in the most basal sense of the beast's thought, untangled from ideals and grievances and hypocrisies.

The calico prowled through the shadows of a home that had never been hers, scouring for any sort of excitement to fuel her follies for a fleeting moment. Ears pricked to and fro at the sounds of scurrying mice, but she would spare them for another day or another mouth. Voracious was her heart and ravenous was her stomach, but she elected to ignore it for another source of entertainment. A hum of a bygone, wayside song rumbled in ashen throat, though the melodies of smoke had not a chance to escape before keen whiskers twitched again. She ducked down, eyes mere serpent's slits and nose expectant, catching upon something unfamiliar. No, she had smelled it many times before. It was the stink of the clan cats, one she was unfortunately well-acquainted with. Though, they surely did not expand their territories this far out into the wildlands. A little bird must be lost. That's it. Osprey snuck through the thickets and bracken until she faced Scorchfrost through the darkness, with only blue blazes for eyes cutting through. "You're a long way from home, clan cat." She hissed, though made no further move. She recognized him, somehow, but she buried that reckoning underneath hard earth and suffocating dirt. It was fate that drove the two siblings together, though she did not know it yet.​

 

[scorchfrost]

There was a noise, ever so slight, so quiet that Scorchfrost nearly missed it. He'd thought he was alert enough, his dark ears on a constant swivel, flicking at every noise around him, but if he had to judge by the cat now in front of him? he was getting rusty.

He wasn't sure what to make of the cat for a moment. They were covered in scars, pink enough to be new, and didn't smell of any clan but there was something that just made him- oh. He knew who they were or, rather, who they used to be. " Osprey? " He'd thought she was dead. He'd known she was dead. There was no way his little.. there was no way she could have made it on her own. " Are you Osprey? " He couldn't believe it.

What was he supposed to think. What did he think? Their last interaction hadn't been pleasant. It had been one that left him convinced he was never going to see her again, anger and bitterness coiled and spit through word and action, but here she was. " It's me. " He couldn't believe it.
​

[ YOU CAN'T BREAK MY SPIRIT ]​

 

[OSPREY]

There were many cats who knew Osprey's name - none of whom said so with great fondness, as though the very namesake of the sky's predators send fear running down lashing tongues and through hollow spines. Wandering through a weaving and twining world, the molly had come to know the ins and the outs of the forests and the rivers and the plains. The inhabitants of such did not enjoy her presence as much. Osprey had been careful to avoid the clans as much as possible - at least, the ones where there was some inklings of the past she had buried as carefully as she would the remains of her food. As the dilute calico stepped into the light, it reckoned her, revealing scars bearing a naked and worn body. Longhaired and light-colored fur had been tamped down, almost, groomed for such a savage beast. This cat said her name like a revelation, words softened and assuaged by wonder rather than fear, exposing her more than any wound or laceration ever could. The slightest hint of surprise struck her, seeping into stony features, a flash of weakness that would otherwise find itself only brewing in the deepest of her gut.

She knew him very well, in fact. This was her elder brother, the man whose last interaction with her had been that of roiling anger and bitterness. She would have been content with his last words being those that remained in his memory.

"I don't know who you are." Gruff voice simply sounded, likely much different than the sprightly and youthful tone that Scorchfrost remembered her by. Her verses had been rimmed with frost, a coldness taking hold within her throat, as though leafbare had never truly died and simply roosted within her sharp metals and anathemic acrimony. Short whiskers twitched. Stressors of a life lived as a rogue had already sprouted through her fur as hoary hairs, and narrowed sunset eyes as well as abraded form certainly gave the impression that she was older than her elder brother. Claws unsheathed and hackles bristled, though her show of intimidation was more gaudy than truly dangerous. If possible, she preferred to scare off her prey if she could. It amused her sometimes, though even that faded as all things in the world tended to do. "Run back to your clan. This is no place for someone like you."​