private whisper in the wind // starlingheart

Oct 7, 2024
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@Starlingheart

Does being the eldest give him better privileges than his peers? No, perhaps not. His parents are keen on equality amongst him and his siblings, and thus with him and his denmates too (though in his youth, equality and equity are not defined as separate beasts yet.) But his grandmother... Certainly kittens with sickly lungs and thorn-scratched pelts get love and care freely from the bicolored molly, but he and the rest of his litter - the sweet ilk that slides off of her tongue is drenched in love and adoration held only for them.

Promisekit dwells in his perception of a gilded lineage. He cares not how they died but instead treasures the legacy they lived through and created. Starlingheart presses on with her history, a still breathing relic of seasons that the tom will never know. She has seen many of the changes that the Clans suffered through - created them. He idolizes her, but no less does he revel in the height it brings him.

In that despite her harrowing tale of life and heartbreak, he lives. That her sacrifice has somehow lead to him today, to him thriving. Her one eyed gaze floats to him and his littermates on occasion, and he grasps the attention like prey between his teeth. He needs it, desperately, and feels cold when it disappears. More, he whines in silence.

His paw hurts today. He sits just inside his grandmother's den with half lidded eyes, watching her flit about her hovel to find a remedy for her grandson. His tail twitches and unknowingly, he switches which paw aches.

"Do you..." he trills with the kittenish soft voice he always has, ears folding backwards, "... still have honey? The sweet stuff?" A treat, for being such a good patient.
 
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To say Starlingheart was partial to kits would not be a lie - and this rang especially true when it came to those of her own flesh and blood. In particular, her grandkits. To her, they are a blessing from StarClan themselves. They certainly haven't missed it - her love, her adoration. Already, her visits to the nursery had been frequent but now they are even more so. Prey, herbs, check ups. Kits being born this close to leaf-bare came with complications, risks. Especially here in the marshes. She would be this worried over any litter born at this time she tells herself but she cannot deny that her regular check ups often hold ulterior motives. Seeing her grandkits, getting to spend as much time with them as she can before they're apprentices and become too busy or too grown to be seen getting doted on by her.

This drive to be with her family that has guided her since her youth is why she doesn't say anything when she inevitably notices her grandson's injured foot has inexplicably changed and why her whiskers twitch in mere amusement when he reveals his true purpose for being here. "Perhaps..." she says, a knowing look entering her eyes as she sweeps her snow-capped tail closer to her body. "And-and if I did, would that soothe your paw do you think?"
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    STARLINGHEART SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PITCHSTAR, CHITTERTONGUE, NIGHTSWARM, SKUNKTAIL, AND LILACFUR. MOTHER TO NETTLEPAW, FLINTWISH AND GHOSTMASK.
    A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
    Easy to befriend but doesn't trust easily
    Mentoring Marblepaw