- Jun 7, 2022
- 418
- 150
- 43
These past few months have been… really hard, the tom thinks as he meanders along the water’s edge. He’s let himself wallow, allowed himself to grieve fully the loss of his beloved, but what comes next has always been Clay’s greatest question. He’s thrown himself into violence, into vengeance, and it’s soothed some of the ache—the taste of revenge on his tongue, metallic and bitter, has washed away some of the all-too-similar taste of loss. Still, without a purpose, what is he really? A mentor who can hardly pull himself from his nest on particularly terrible days, a warrior who made his mark and yet still finds himself an utter failure.
When something bumps against his paw, the tom frowns curiously, shifting to look at the object. It’s shimmering and yellow and star-shaped, clearly some sort of leftover garbage, but it reminds him so dearly of sunflower, of honey, of every beautiful sunrise that he’s seen in his life. And more than that—it’s a sign. He takes a deep breath, and settles onto the riverbank, framing the object between his paws.
"It’s… nice to believe that you’re still around, kind of," he says, voice hushed. His clanmates don’t need to walk in on him talking to himself, so he glances around before continuing to speak. Hazel eyes remain trained on the glimmering object, but in his head he can practically see a blue-hued figure standing on the other side of the river. "I just wish you didn’t have to go. I’m… alone. And it’s hard. And I’m sorry. But I… I’m sure you’re having a good time. Catch some, like, star-fish for me." His chuckle trails off into silence, the humor of the moment fading quickly.
He draws in a deep breath, lets it out as a sigh. "I’m so bad at being alone, Clear. I could never replace you, but maybe there’s… maybe I don’t have to be alone forever." He’s always had an open heart for love, never thought of monogamy as necessary. And he wonders briefly, what will happen if Clearsight doesn’t approve? Clay’s sure he won’t, so concerned with everyone around him being content and happy and safe. He would want Clay to find happiness again. He would want more than pitiful wallowing and disruptive shivering alone in a nest too large for just one cat, in a camp unstained with blood but also untouched by his mate.
It might be time, he thinks, to step into a new self, a new chapter of the tale that he’s spinning for himself. It’s what Clearsight would want, isn’t it? To see him happy, even if he isn’t pressed up against a wave-splashed pelt of blue and white. But he knows, deep down, that if that time ever comes, their eyes will be golden, like daylight.
When something bumps against his paw, the tom frowns curiously, shifting to look at the object. It’s shimmering and yellow and star-shaped, clearly some sort of leftover garbage, but it reminds him so dearly of sunflower, of honey, of every beautiful sunrise that he’s seen in his life. And more than that—it’s a sign. He takes a deep breath, and settles onto the riverbank, framing the object between his paws.
"It’s… nice to believe that you’re still around, kind of," he says, voice hushed. His clanmates don’t need to walk in on him talking to himself, so he glances around before continuing to speak. Hazel eyes remain trained on the glimmering object, but in his head he can practically see a blue-hued figure standing on the other side of the river. "I just wish you didn’t have to go. I’m… alone. And it’s hard. And I’m sorry. But I… I’m sure you’re having a good time. Catch some, like, star-fish for me." His chuckle trails off into silence, the humor of the moment fading quickly.
He draws in a deep breath, lets it out as a sigh. "I’m so bad at being alone, Clear. I could never replace you, but maybe there’s… maybe I don’t have to be alone forever." He’s always had an open heart for love, never thought of monogamy as necessary. And he wonders briefly, what will happen if Clearsight doesn’t approve? Clay’s sure he won’t, so concerned with everyone around him being content and happy and safe. He would want Clay to find happiness again. He would want more than pitiful wallowing and disruptive shivering alone in a nest too large for just one cat, in a camp unstained with blood but also untouched by his mate.
It might be time, he thinks, to step into a new self, a new chapter of the tale that he’s spinning for himself. It’s what Clearsight would want, isn’t it? To see him happy, even if he isn’t pressed up against a wave-splashed pelt of blue and white. But he knows, deep down, that if that time ever comes, their eyes will be golden, like daylight.
