- Feb 20, 2023
- 324
- 89
- 28
Snakehiss is at his wits' end, completely and utterly. Attempting to rest in the marshlands was a living nightmare; disgusting and filthy his paws had become, and sooner or later he wouldn't smell any different than a ShadowClanner. Sleep would not come easy, not until he did this first.
Situated as far as he could possibly tread, away from the listening ears of his clanmates and other clan cats, Snakehiss lifts his starry eyes to Silverpelt. Green hues are heavy but rounded with the hope that he would be heard. "What has WindClan done to upset you, StarClan?!" The young warrior asks aloud to a vast sea of twinkling lights that he knew would never be able to answer. "Was it Sootstar herself? Was it any one of us? Why have you cursed us so?" Never mind that the other clans had also been facing hardships. WindClan was supposed to be StarClan's favorite — why were they not given the strength to stand up to the invading rogues in the first place? Why had they lost their deputy to treason before this happened, leaving behind a lingering feeling of unease and shaken trust? Why had they lost so many clanmates to Yellowcough, including a loyal lead warrior and his own mother? Why WindClan?
A pang weighs in his chest, hurting and tender. This had been the worst thing to happen to WindClan in his entire lifetime — the moors were his home. It was the home of his ancestors. Why would StarClan allow the rogues to take it away? "Tell me what I am meant to do. Send an omen, like you did about Cottonpaw." Snakehiss pleads. StarClan is cryptic at best, but their message about Cottonpaw pursuing the path of a healer had been as clear as day. Maybe they had their own special mission in store for him and it was only a matter of deciphering what it was.
The dark tom bows his head, finally, closing his eyes and whispering with the slightest tremble in his voice, "Nobody else believes in me. Please, StarClan, I beg of you to believe in me. Let me make things right again." He had never denounced his faith, never doubted their power. Snakehiss had always remained a loyal soldier in the warrior ancestors' names. He could be their chosen one... if they'd allow him.
Situated as far as he could possibly tread, away from the listening ears of his clanmates and other clan cats, Snakehiss lifts his starry eyes to Silverpelt. Green hues are heavy but rounded with the hope that he would be heard. "What has WindClan done to upset you, StarClan?!" The young warrior asks aloud to a vast sea of twinkling lights that he knew would never be able to answer. "Was it Sootstar herself? Was it any one of us? Why have you cursed us so?" Never mind that the other clans had also been facing hardships. WindClan was supposed to be StarClan's favorite — why were they not given the strength to stand up to the invading rogues in the first place? Why had they lost their deputy to treason before this happened, leaving behind a lingering feeling of unease and shaken trust? Why had they lost so many clanmates to Yellowcough, including a loyal lead warrior and his own mother? Why WindClan?
A pang weighs in his chest, hurting and tender. This had been the worst thing to happen to WindClan in his entire lifetime — the moors were his home. It was the home of his ancestors. Why would StarClan allow the rogues to take it away? "Tell me what I am meant to do. Send an omen, like you did about Cottonpaw." Snakehiss pleads. StarClan is cryptic at best, but their message about Cottonpaw pursuing the path of a healer had been as clear as day. Maybe they had their own special mission in store for him and it was only a matter of deciphering what it was.
The dark tom bows his head, finally, closing his eyes and whispering with the slightest tremble in his voice, "Nobody else believes in me. Please, StarClan, I beg of you to believe in me. Let me make things right again." He had never denounced his faith, never doubted their power. Snakehiss had always remained a loyal soldier in the warrior ancestors' names. He could be their chosen one... if they'd allow him.
