- Feb 9, 2023
- 571
- 181
- 43
It's another walk; mere sunrises since she's cleared his health. Another time, she had pressed into the air then, simply glad that she returned to him breathing, that she had been there when he woke once more. To plague him with her misery would be unfair... inevitable, but unfair so soon. But another time has come so quickly, pathetically soft words lifting from her tongue once she's found safety in their secrecy. Parted from the Clan, Cottonsprig details her moon of woes, so that he may shoulder her grief with her. So that she may selfishly lighten the burden she holds.
"... And so, I had three..." Snakehiss, Sunflowermask, Rumblerain, Pollenfur; each details of the past as she traipses on to the importance of her tale. Kittens, ones they unknowingly share. "Two toms and a she-kit. It was... easy, I suppose. I went through it alone," remorse does not flutter in her tone. She wanted Peonybreeze to rest; he was doing so much for her. "They were healthy, born as if greenleaf was still flourishing. I named them -" a pause. A slow, dragging step, and she stops their walk for measures longer.
"Bluefrost found me days later. She kitted in the lands like I did, with the same success I suppose you could say. She's the one who told me about Lungwortkit, about yellowcough. I... I had to come home, Foxglare." Duty, an unspoken word, for she isn't sure if it's truly hers. Not after what Weaselclaw told her, not after the silence from StarClan. Her throat bobs with discomfort, "Our kittens... you couldn't tell them apart. Still can't, really."
Cottonsprig's eyes don't leave her paws. The callouses from wandering the expanse have worn soft again, but she almost misses the rough texture. They were a testament to how hard she had worked to survive that hard moon, how much harder she would've persevered to help her kittens thrive. And now... she flexes her class in the grass beneath them, pitiful scores in the dirt where they've graced.
"Rimekit, Comfreykit, and Foalkit," she murmurs, softer than a mouse's whisper. "They're mine - well..." an imperceptible hitch in her voice, followed by a far more noticeable sniffle, "They used to be."
"... And so, I had three..." Snakehiss, Sunflowermask, Rumblerain, Pollenfur; each details of the past as she traipses on to the importance of her tale. Kittens, ones they unknowingly share. "Two toms and a she-kit. It was... easy, I suppose. I went through it alone," remorse does not flutter in her tone. She wanted Peonybreeze to rest; he was doing so much for her. "They were healthy, born as if greenleaf was still flourishing. I named them -" a pause. A slow, dragging step, and she stops their walk for measures longer.
"Bluefrost found me days later. She kitted in the lands like I did, with the same success I suppose you could say. She's the one who told me about Lungwortkit, about yellowcough. I... I had to come home, Foxglare." Duty, an unspoken word, for she isn't sure if it's truly hers. Not after what Weaselclaw told her, not after the silence from StarClan. Her throat bobs with discomfort, "Our kittens... you couldn't tell them apart. Still can't, really."
Cottonsprig's eyes don't leave her paws. The callouses from wandering the expanse have worn soft again, but she almost misses the rough texture. They were a testament to how hard she had worked to survive that hard moon, how much harder she would've persevered to help her kittens thrive. And now... she flexes her class in the grass beneath them, pitiful scores in the dirt where they've graced.
"Rimekit, Comfreykit, and Foalkit," she murmurs, softer than a mouse's whisper. "They're mine - well..." an imperceptible hitch in her voice, followed by a far more noticeable sniffle, "They used to be."
