- Oct 19, 2023
- 10
- 1
- 1
Each rasp of his tongue leaves small bloody streaks across his pale fur and a wince on his face. The cut on his tongue has yet to stop its incessant weeping, an errant claw striking him as his fangs flashed for their throat. It was hardly the worst of his worries. Blood has marred his shoulder, the delicate fluff at the base of his ear; bruises will blossom where no cat can see, but already Thornrunner feels them. WindClan had fallen apart. That was to be expected. It was bound to happen at some point, but what fools they must have been to stand with the source of such weakness. To retreat from the camp that they had called home was pathetic, and therefore no less than what the traitors deserved.
The young warrior was no fool. He knew that what Sootstar did was evil, and so far from what the stars would want. But what power did the stars have here? When all that she had done had been met with nothing but a pathetic display at one gathering. Oh now he knows that it was a lie, but at the time he had fallen completely for the lie: it was a sign of her power and strength. In a way, it truly had been. StarClan was afraid of her. Thornrunner would always stand near this position of power. That was the only thing in this wretched life that he could still trust in.
"I've seen the twolegs master flames before. At the horseplace. A pile of sticks like a nest for it to rest on. Never leaving." His slow, indecisive speech is meant for no particular cat. Every few words come with a delicate pause in which Thornrunner swallows blood and clicks his wounded tongue against the roof of his maw. "I wish that we could bring it here. Cleanse their very memory from this camp," the warrior spits with sudden violent energy. "Burn away everything that they made a mockery of." A stained paw flexes equally stained claws, pink-red tips digging into mushy snow. "They deserve no place in our thoughts after what they did."
The young warrior was no fool. He knew that what Sootstar did was evil, and so far from what the stars would want. But what power did the stars have here? When all that she had done had been met with nothing but a pathetic display at one gathering. Oh now he knows that it was a lie, but at the time he had fallen completely for the lie: it was a sign of her power and strength. In a way, it truly had been. StarClan was afraid of her. Thornrunner would always stand near this position of power. That was the only thing in this wretched life that he could still trust in.
"I've seen the twolegs master flames before. At the horseplace. A pile of sticks like a nest for it to rest on. Never leaving." His slow, indecisive speech is meant for no particular cat. Every few words come with a delicate pause in which Thornrunner swallows blood and clicks his wounded tongue against the roof of his maw. "I wish that we could bring it here. Cleanse their very memory from this camp," the warrior spits with sudden violent energy. "Burn away everything that they made a mockery of." A stained paw flexes equally stained claws, pink-red tips digging into mushy snow. "They deserve no place in our thoughts after what they did."
- OOC. —
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THORNRUNNER. HE - HIM - HIS. YOUNG MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. SOOTSTAR LOYALIST. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. ——————————————
—— a densely-furred yet sleek chocolate tabby with high white and several scars hidden within his fur. he carries himself with cocky confidence and a sharp cunning in icy blue eyes. - "speech"