pafp What's In Your Head? | Feather

[Auburnflame]

The turning up of Spiderpaw was a terribly gruesome one, beaten and torn—an attack that was hard to get out of his head. No one knew what transpired—whether it be a wild animal or not, it remains a mystery. A mystery that SkyClan wanted nothing more than to solve. It reigns a flash of memory back to him, Centipedepaw's demise—Howlfire's disappearance. Kuiper was dead, though. Thistleback had made sure of such things and Auburnflame had watched the very life leave those glacial eyes, lifeless in death as he was in life. Constantly taking lives for just the sake of it—the sake of his own morality. Did he have an accomplice? Ivory whiskers twitch in thought and he heaves a hefty sigh. I pray to the stars he didn't.
He remembers the look of horror on everyone's face, that immeasurable grief but one face stood out in particular. Cherrypaw. She was distraught over the loss of her friend, experiencing that loss at such a young age was nothing to scoff at. He knows she just wants to understand, to process those feelings and he wishes he could be of help. Perhaps—he could, in some way. Something to lift her spirits. Auburnflame had found a particularly lustrous black feather, sleek with a sheen unlike most. In the sun, the obsidian feather almost looked as if it held a blue sheen to it's darkness. A gift to his younger cousin—she reminded him a lot of Orangeblossom at that age and it brings a gentle pull of lips into a smile on his face. So young and still fierce, it was bo doubt that she will be a formidable warrior in the making. Slate would certainly have his paws full.
The warrior moves swiftly from the brambles that surround their home, the feather clasped delicately between ivory teeth as mint hues flit in order to find a familiar calico pelt. There. There she was, amidst a few others and he moves towards her. "Hey, Cherrypaw. How're you liking your new name? Excited for apprenticeship?" He interjects into the idle conversation, his plumed tail swaying behind him. "I brought you something." He says after a moment, bending down to place the feather between her paws. "A gift for you. To congratulate you and—for your loss with Spiderpaw. She watches you with pride I'm sure."

/ please wait for @Cherrypaw

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[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Fifteen sunrises have passed since they found her body. She doesn't know Orangeblossom had this exact thought as she held her shivering daughter in her arms that night, but eleven sunrises earlier and Cherrypaw could've been the one to stumble upon her at the edge of the territory.

She hardly dwells on it. She knows not whether the grief still lingers inside her, spoiling at the bottom of her ribcage while apprenticehood, rivalries and friendship and freedom, buzz around above it. If she was ever given the choice, she thinks she might throw it all away: the grief along with the lessons, everything of their shallow, intergenerational friendship out of her den along with her kithood. But the powder-blue remnants of Spiderpaw woven tightly into her fur say otherwise.

Cherrypaw doesn't continue as though she's forgotten or forsaken the girl entirely. Sometimes she goes on with her day like she's just out of sight. Spiderpaw, as an older apprentice, would have more duties and training to attend to than little Cherrypaw. And maybe she just doesn't want to hang out with baby apprentices anymore, now that she's gotten another moon closer to becoming a warrior. Sometimes she just doesn't think too hard about it.

Today is one of those days. The girl stands amid a loose cluster of cats, mostly comprised of SkyClan's newest cohort of apprentices. A smile hangs on her face, lofty and at ease with the surrounding chatter, the drifting spotlight of attention. "Hey, Cherrypaw." Recognizing the "Cherry" more than the "paw," she blinks over her shoulder while the conversation continues undeterred. A faint flicker of irritation jumps in her chest. "Hey, Auburnflame." Her attention, though split, quickly finds the obsidian curiosity clasped within his eager smile; the annoyance fades as quickly as it came.

Her cousin ignores the feather in order to prattle on though, and Cherrypaw easily slips out of the conversation and into a new one. "I love it!" She gives him a winning smile. "Yeah, Slate already showed me the territory with some other apprentices," she explains, tilting her chin up as though to emphasize that it wasn't any difficult. (It was; she practically melted into her nest at the end of the day, but she isn't going to show her dear cousin that.)

Though he'd only distracted her for a moment with apprenticeship talk, she'd nearly forgotten about the feather before he knelt down to place it at her feet. It's a regal thing, burnished blue in the pine-tinted sunlight, with pristine edges unmarred by ruffles. It feels as though it'd never grew on a bird at all, or if it had, been promptly plucked out before anything serious could happen to it.

She loves it; it's gorgeous! But—"Oh." Spiderpaw.

Cherrypaw is slow to bend down and take his gift. There's a soft pause before she chooses a spot in her neck fur and carefully nests it there, in the pale fold where her cheek fur drapes into her chest. "Thanks." Her voice is not as enthusiastic as she would've liked, but it feels...wrong. To force it. "She, uh, yeah. Probably." Cherrypaw shrugs, her gaze falling back to the feather. (It'd be embarrassing to cry in front of all the apprentices.)

// not an answer to her prompt c:​