" Ghostmask, " voice is quiet - scratchy with disuse and injury. If she'd been alive, perhaps she'd have been rendered mute entirely - but she hadn't lived, had she? Green eyes peer from the shadows, flashing with intensity as she stares at her favorite niece from her perch amungst the roots.
" I told you... warned you, didn't I? " she says, voice cooing in it's taunt as she just stares. Just watches.
" Do you understand now? He was nothing. He never loved you... couldn't, not when you were named for... him... and yet, you still followed him, " head shakes slowly - how disappointed she'd been, to see the only child she'd thought
great slip into obscurity at her traitorous fathers side.
" He didn't.... even make you deputy of his beloved 'duskclan' - left the role... to a windclanner, " she spits, and she laughs - a quiet, pitiful thing that breaks off into rasping coughs. Granitepelt always put far to much trust into blood - into the
wrong blood. You could only push a cat so far before they broke, or before they turned their claws upon you instead. And now, she thinks with a fond sort of
spite, he roams these woods somewhere - and if she's lucky, he will find himself at her claws once more. And this time, Siltcloud will not hesitate.
'i will be great. i was born to be great - i'm the only one who can be. everyone else is nothing.' Once, Ghostmask had had such big dreams.
" You could still be... someone, you know? You could be great, " she says at last, pulling herself to her paws.
━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━
