private thoughts come of fire burning || leech

Hunts Pheasants

i will lay the table but i will not sing
Jul 23, 2022

  • White-eye doesn't know what to make of her newly appointed ward. He has a long type of face that White-eye has seen before. Proportions stretched in every direction: overlarge ears and tall limbs. White-eye wonders if she needs to force him to eat more or it is by breed that he looks so thin. She wonders about his teeth and if he is left uncomfortable about where they sit. She wonders if there is a reason why he was named Leech; if it was a name chosen or given. She feels aware, overly so, of the bulk of herself.

    Greenleaf has a way of changing the moors. Large swathes of it stretch purple, broken occasionally by cotton-headed flowers and curling bilberry sprigs. It teems with life: the perfect season to learn how to hunt, a lesson that White-eye had spent the better part of the morning trying to impart on her apprentice. Now, with the sun nearing it's zenith, the world seems to slow as countless creatures retreat into burrows and nests away from the heat.

    White-eye settles herself onto the sandy ground in the only way she knows how-- positioned so that she can be on her paws immediately if need be and her ever-wary eyes to the horizon. She glances Leechpaw's way-- unsubtle, and once more finds herself wondering.

    "Come here," She commands, "Omaa bi-onabin. I hardly know you-- and I should know you. Were you born here on the moors?" White-eye had been born to different moors, seasons ago. This WindClan is something nascent, as far as White-eye has gathered, but she hasn't been able to place just how young.

    // @LEECH

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Leechpaw didn't know what to felt about his mentor to be blunt about it. All he know about her was that she previously was a loner, something he himself wanted to be in the future. He rememberd to have been one of the first cats who had meet her when she first had come here. What he felt for her was far from liking though. She was a she-cat which meant automatically that he disliked her. But at least she wasn't a kittypet or Weasel-brain so at least he could learn something from her...maybe. If anything he could get a insight on how it actually was out there as a loner. All of the risks and dangerous he needed to look out for.

" Huh?." Leechpaw had found himself lost in his own thoughts so hadn't paid attention to White-eye for a bit. Now when he was back where he was suppose to be though his eyes instantly turned guarded. She wanted him to come on over to seat by her?. Her voice had sounded like a command as well but what was the next she had said after that?. Leechpaw twitched his whiskers in irritation but ended up doing as he was told anyway while ignoring her weird...loner talk stuff. He seated down beside her but not to close, he was making it obivious clear he wanted to be nowhere near her. Bringing his tail close to his body he grimaced while listening. So...was this suppose to be some sort of bonding session now?. Ugh. If it not was by the fact he wanted to know more about her own life, about her loner life he might have walked away from this conversation. But instead he was cooperative.

" No i was not. I was born on the other side of the thunderpath with some of the other cats here. We used to be a part of shadowclan, uh, well before they become shadowclan. Back then we didn't really have a name to go by. " he answerd while thinking back on his life there. Back then he had liked to live there but now he was glad he no longer lived in the swamps. He wanted nothing to do with that place anymore. The moors for the lack of a better word was better.


  • Leech's discomfort is apparent almost immediately. White-eye considers him openly as he speaks-- answering her, but offering little more. She had assumed WindClan to be young, but she hadn't known how young-- but a sister group was newly named enough that Leech remembers a time before it had a name. This information is shuffled away quietly; White-eye could never tell if something like this could be useful later.

    "There is a marsh there, on the other side of that Thunderpath." White-eye muses, "You certainly couldn't have picked a place more different from the marsh than the moorland."

    The ground was dry and the whole of the world was bared to the sky. There is a question in White-eyes words, one that she doesn't voice directly for fear of chasing Leech away. "I had been born on a moor, similar to this one," She offers instead, "But I had left home seasons ago-- more seasons than you've seen alive."​

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