- Apr 4, 2023
- 154
- 22
- 18
Drizzlepelt is alone. Sure, it's only because he's out hunting by himself, but even then, the loneliness permeates. He's always felt alienated, and despite finally feeling like he belongs somewhere, some part of him is very aware that he is not one of them. Not really. He will always be a born loner, and it's written in his body. There's some comfort not being alongside anyone else from SkyClan currently, but it's still a bitter taste.
He immediately smells the change in weather, grey skies matching his pelt ready to send droplets this way. It isn't long before his name is very appropriate; he's suddenly getting rained on, wind starting to build. Unlike usual, he allows his fur to get soaked, suddenly not in a good mood. He can't tell why at first. It isn't his thoughts leading up to this moment, but something else is clawing out from inside him. And when it worms it's way out, he gets why immediately. Snowpath…
The two weren't close by any means. Sure, he was one of the first cats Drizzlepelt met while being on the boarder that faithful day, but there really wasn't much opportunity to converse beyond that. He really only saw the tom in passing, never breaking that barrier. Even so, there's no one that he considered at least respectable that's died in front of him. On a day like this too…would he come to find his name a curse instead of a blessing? He doesn't know.
His thoughts then turn to something that makes his gut churn even more. If he found his mother or brother's dead bodies, would he care? If they died right next to him, would he feel anything towards it? Honestly, he wouldn't. They never cared about him, so why should he? Part of his recognition comes with disgust, but most of him is numb to it. It's upsetting how much he thinks of his blood relations lately…he doubts he'll ever see them again anyways. Why does he care that much?
He finally shakes himself off, not wanting to dwell on this subject any further. The thought of death really isn’t pleasant…he prays to StarClan that they won't rip anyone else from him so soon. Even if he enjoys time to himself and sometimes has thoughts about if he’ll ever feel comfortable with his place in SkyClan, he cares so, so much. He knows it's a pointless wish, as they can only do so much, but he hopes they hear his plea loud and clear despite the raging wind threatening to sweep him up.
// OOC: Part of the prompt event!
He immediately smells the change in weather, grey skies matching his pelt ready to send droplets this way. It isn't long before his name is very appropriate; he's suddenly getting rained on, wind starting to build. Unlike usual, he allows his fur to get soaked, suddenly not in a good mood. He can't tell why at first. It isn't his thoughts leading up to this moment, but something else is clawing out from inside him. And when it worms it's way out, he gets why immediately. Snowpath…
The two weren't close by any means. Sure, he was one of the first cats Drizzlepelt met while being on the boarder that faithful day, but there really wasn't much opportunity to converse beyond that. He really only saw the tom in passing, never breaking that barrier. Even so, there's no one that he considered at least respectable that's died in front of him. On a day like this too…would he come to find his name a curse instead of a blessing? He doesn't know.
His thoughts then turn to something that makes his gut churn even more. If he found his mother or brother's dead bodies, would he care? If they died right next to him, would he feel anything towards it? Honestly, he wouldn't. They never cared about him, so why should he? Part of his recognition comes with disgust, but most of him is numb to it. It's upsetting how much he thinks of his blood relations lately…he doubts he'll ever see them again anyways. Why does he care that much?
He finally shakes himself off, not wanting to dwell on this subject any further. The thought of death really isn’t pleasant…he prays to StarClan that they won't rip anyone else from him so soon. Even if he enjoys time to himself and sometimes has thoughts about if he’ll ever feel comfortable with his place in SkyClan, he cares so, so much. He knows it's a pointless wish, as they can only do so much, but he hopes they hear his plea loud and clear despite the raging wind threatening to sweep him up.
// OOC: Part of the prompt event!
iii. the rain picks up while drizzlepelt is out hunting; the wind seems to scream as it rushes through the trees, and drizzlepelt is reminded of a death that greatly affected him- snowpath. how does he react to this memory, especially when out of camp alone?