- Jan 15, 2023
- 604
- 167
- 43
༄༄ The scars upon her body have hardly bothered Scorchstreak before. They are marks of pride, proof that she has seen battle many times and made it out alive. The scar on her chest, too, the intentional one, had once been a symbol of honor. It was, and always will be, proof that she served Sootstar with the same eagerness that a dying ant serves its queen. She scorns Snakehiss and Sootspot for their involvement in Sootstar’s council, but she too had once stood where they stood. She had committed terrible acts in the name of her stars-damned leader. Sunstar and Bluepool each carried the same scars, but both of their have since been slashed through, effectively ruined. They are hardly recognizable as Sootstar’s marks any longer, and it makes the tunneler feel even more guilty about the scar that still sits plain and clear within the white fur of her chest.
She intends to ask Sunstar about it after the meeting he holds, but he is caught up in other things, and so she goes out to hunt instead. The darkness of the tunnels soothes her, eases her mind as always, but still the thought hovers in the back of her head. She had initially kept Sootstar’s scar as a mark of shame, a way to remind herself of her actions. She could have torn through it herself, but that would have been the same as running away from what she’d done. She’s faced the fire, kept her mark of guilt stark across her chest. But… perhaps with a new WindClan, she can finally cast it aside. Doing it herself feels wrong—she is not the cat to absolve herself of her crimes, not now. It is up to Sunstar to grant her forgiveness. She needs only to speak to him alone, and so when she gets her chance, she takes it.
Her expression betrays nothing of her emotions, but her tail lashes in a show of agitation. "Sunstar," she says as she approaches the tom, golden eyes narrowed. She is struck with the thought that, despite knowing what she wants, she has no idea how to say it, and so Scorchstreak does something that she has rarely done in the past. She stalls. "Thank you for trusting me enough to make me your lead warrior. It means a lot to me, to be considered a part of your council after everything that’s happened." Her words are true—the calico respects Sunstar not only for the way he’d stood up against his predecessor, but for his climb from rogue to star-touched leader. He is resilient and honorable in ways that Sootstar could never have been, and Scorchstreak is glad that she will get to see him lead their clan to a brighter future.
"I also… have a request for you." She meets his eyes when she speaks next, looking deep into pools of ice. What she wants is not something simple like a patrol assignment. What she wants could be something that Sunstar rejects without consideration, refusing to fix the worst part about her. She would deserve such rejection, she thinks. But she stands at her full height regardless of her expectations, expression serious as ever. The jagged line across her chest is clear in the dying sunlight. "I have worn Sootstar’s scar as a reminder of my ignorance, my blindness to the terrible things I did in her name. I have wanted to ruin it since the day I saw those ShadowClan kits in our camp. But doing it myself feels like taking the easy way out… like forgiving myself, when I’m not deserving of it." She thinks of Dappledsun, far from her worst mistake made under Sootstar’s orders, yet so close to her heart. She thinks of Badgermoon, of his exile and the tale that Sootstar spun of his betrayal. She’d believed it. She’d scolded her kit, her beloved Scorchpaw, for not believing the story.
She may never know what happened to Badgermoon and Curlewnose, but she knows that it must have been more than what the clan was told. Likewise, she may never see Rumblerain again, but they had outlined her failures as a parent rather clearly. She has much to atone for, doesn’t she? The lead warrior’s gaze falls to her own paws, small and delicate-looking where they stand opposite the tom’s own. "So I ask you—will you help me be rid of her at last? I would rather wear your scar than one of hers, or one of my own making."
// @SUNSTAR
She intends to ask Sunstar about it after the meeting he holds, but he is caught up in other things, and so she goes out to hunt instead. The darkness of the tunnels soothes her, eases her mind as always, but still the thought hovers in the back of her head. She had initially kept Sootstar’s scar as a mark of shame, a way to remind herself of her actions. She could have torn through it herself, but that would have been the same as running away from what she’d done. She’s faced the fire, kept her mark of guilt stark across her chest. But… perhaps with a new WindClan, she can finally cast it aside. Doing it herself feels wrong—she is not the cat to absolve herself of her crimes, not now. It is up to Sunstar to grant her forgiveness. She needs only to speak to him alone, and so when she gets her chance, she takes it.
Her expression betrays nothing of her emotions, but her tail lashes in a show of agitation. "Sunstar," she says as she approaches the tom, golden eyes narrowed. She is struck with the thought that, despite knowing what she wants, she has no idea how to say it, and so Scorchstreak does something that she has rarely done in the past. She stalls. "Thank you for trusting me enough to make me your lead warrior. It means a lot to me, to be considered a part of your council after everything that’s happened." Her words are true—the calico respects Sunstar not only for the way he’d stood up against his predecessor, but for his climb from rogue to star-touched leader. He is resilient and honorable in ways that Sootstar could never have been, and Scorchstreak is glad that she will get to see him lead their clan to a brighter future.
"I also… have a request for you." She meets his eyes when she speaks next, looking deep into pools of ice. What she wants is not something simple like a patrol assignment. What she wants could be something that Sunstar rejects without consideration, refusing to fix the worst part about her. She would deserve such rejection, she thinks. But she stands at her full height regardless of her expectations, expression serious as ever. The jagged line across her chest is clear in the dying sunlight. "I have worn Sootstar’s scar as a reminder of my ignorance, my blindness to the terrible things I did in her name. I have wanted to ruin it since the day I saw those ShadowClan kits in our camp. But doing it myself feels like taking the easy way out… like forgiving myself, when I’m not deserving of it." She thinks of Dappledsun, far from her worst mistake made under Sootstar’s orders, yet so close to her heart. She thinks of Badgermoon, of his exile and the tale that Sootstar spun of his betrayal. She’d believed it. She’d scolded her kit, her beloved Scorchpaw, for not believing the story.
She may never know what happened to Badgermoon and Curlewnose, but she knows that it must have been more than what the clan was told. Likewise, she may never see Rumblerain again, but they had outlined her failures as a parent rather clearly. She has much to atone for, doesn’t she? The lead warrior’s gaze falls to her own paws, small and delicate-looking where they stand opposite the tom’s own. "So I ask you—will you help me be rid of her at last? I would rather wear your scar than one of hers, or one of my own making."
// @SUNSTAR