Member
° Deputy °
☆ Moonclan ☆
° He•Him °
/
☆ Homosexual ☆
° 32 Moons ° years old
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Post by ♡ Witheredrose ♡ on Nov 7, 2021 17:06:57 GMT -5♡, Words "What is a King to a God?" They walked with grace, she and him. Each gentle step taken with care of the others wounds, yet not a word was spoken on the others condition. The both knew without a second thought of the aching the other suffered. Both inside and out. Witheredrose was hesitant to agree upon aiding Spiritstar through her walk, as they had both been bed-ridden for the past few days within the confines of the medicine-cat den. It was no insult to Baystorm herself, but the deputy had seen enough of this den, and it seemed Spiritstar agreed. Yet despite her desire to roam Witheredrose voiced his concerns on her poor condition, worry remained vacant from his gaze and tone out of respect for her resilience. "I think you ought to give yourself more time to heal. Given the state you were in." But alas the stubborn she-cat insisted, and who was he to deny her? In the end the albino caved to the wishes of his dear leader, a tightness within his throat as he led her towards a small stream that ran near the camp in the rainy seasons such as now. Step by step the two hobbled and winced as their healing wounds nipped their nerves in protest, even so, Witheredrose felt relief in being outside the walls of camp, a grimace wavering onto his features as he contemplated the events that had taken place. He had failed. Failed to eliminate the threat from existence, and failed to protect his leader. The thought wormed through his stomach like maggots, causing bile to touch his maw as the two reached their destination. A firm shake of his pelt brought his optics up to Spiritstar's, a gentle smile meeting her in turn as his tail waved for her to sit. For a mere moment, the deputy could not speak, wavering words struggling to reach his lips as ruby hues fought to keep contact. "A-..I-..Do you like fish?" Witheredrose asked awkwardly, unsure of what to do with the surge of emotions swirling within his chest. It was certainly something his leader wouldn't be use to seeing, as the albino tom was quite the charismatic one, and yet even so a strange awkwardness held him as he shifted uncomfortably. So many things he wished to say, so much he wished to ask. Sore paws dipped into the cold water gingerly as the tom turned away, a pleased sigh dragging past his maw as his body sagged in exhaustion. It seemed no amount of rest could cure the aching pain within him, and it showed despite his attempts to hold face. By the sagging of his eyes, the stray strands of fur upon his pelt. The days had granted a number on the pale furred tom, that was for sure. But it was nothing compared to her. Notes |
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Post by .·:·.☽✧Spiritstar✧☾.·:·. on Nov 23, 2021 23:47:13 GMT -5
with actions come consequences
without them, what sort of actions will be done?
without them, what sort of actions will be done?
Pain, was the one word that could describe her demeanor at that moment.
Physical pain; it spiraled down her chest, a thorn whipped vine. It curled in between toes, it wrapped around legs and paws and throats. It forced every movement to cut deep into her core, to be felt throughout every muscle, every fiber. It slowed her down, it brought seconds into hours, into lifetimes.
Mental pain: it cut and sliced it’s way into a beating heart, separating it into thousands of crying pieces. It churned the waters of her mind, dragging tentacles and gaping maws pulling her into the darkest, deepest of trenches. It pushed doubts into her thoughts and pulled her into herself.
However, the Queen of the Moonlit Night kept most of this inward, shoving it deep down into the safe of her mind and locking it with a skeleton key. The only part of this pain that anyone could see upon the surface was the struggle in the way her paws moved toward, heavy led upon the forest floor. Or the exhausted look in dulled, chipped sapphire hues, which gazed upon the earth as they walked in what seemed to be a rather heavy silence. It had been days since the incident happened, but it was fresh in the she-cat’s mind. She had failed to protect a kitten, failed to protect her warriors, who she all saw as her own children. They had come back bloodied, victorious, but forever marred by the event. A child who never needed to see the bloodshed and pain that the event would now mark forever in his mind as a trauma. It was almost too much for the Moonclan leader to think about.
The train of thought was promptly derailed, upon hearing the tentative voice of her dear deputy pipe up into the silence. His words brought her back to reality, and Spiritstar had enough energy to place a small ghost of her normal smiles upon her maw. It was small, but it was there.
“Yes my dear, fish are something my heart enjoys.” Her voice, lacking all of it’s normal luster, was quiet and tired. But it still rang with her normal warmth, even tired as it was. She did not want Witheredrose to worry for her.
A soft grunt followed her words as the injured leader settled herself slowly and painfully down upon the ground beside the albino, tail curling around sore paws. Her gaze turned toward the flowing water and she let out a quiet sigh, simply allowing herself to be washed away with the current, letting it’s bubbling waters attempt to calm her state of turmoil.
It was all she could do not to break.
Physical pain; it spiraled down her chest, a thorn whipped vine. It curled in between toes, it wrapped around legs and paws and throats. It forced every movement to cut deep into her core, to be felt throughout every muscle, every fiber. It slowed her down, it brought seconds into hours, into lifetimes.
Mental pain: it cut and sliced it’s way into a beating heart, separating it into thousands of crying pieces. It churned the waters of her mind, dragging tentacles and gaping maws pulling her into the darkest, deepest of trenches. It pushed doubts into her thoughts and pulled her into herself.
However, the Queen of the Moonlit Night kept most of this inward, shoving it deep down into the safe of her mind and locking it with a skeleton key. The only part of this pain that anyone could see upon the surface was the struggle in the way her paws moved toward, heavy led upon the forest floor. Or the exhausted look in dulled, chipped sapphire hues, which gazed upon the earth as they walked in what seemed to be a rather heavy silence. It had been days since the incident happened, but it was fresh in the she-cat’s mind. She had failed to protect a kitten, failed to protect her warriors, who she all saw as her own children. They had come back bloodied, victorious, but forever marred by the event. A child who never needed to see the bloodshed and pain that the event would now mark forever in his mind as a trauma. It was almost too much for the Moonclan leader to think about.
The train of thought was promptly derailed, upon hearing the tentative voice of her dear deputy pipe up into the silence. His words brought her back to reality, and Spiritstar had enough energy to place a small ghost of her normal smiles upon her maw. It was small, but it was there.
“Yes my dear, fish are something my heart enjoys.” Her voice, lacking all of it’s normal luster, was quiet and tired. But it still rang with her normal warmth, even tired as it was. She did not want Witheredrose to worry for her.
A soft grunt followed her words as the injured leader settled herself slowly and painfully down upon the ground beside the albino, tail curling around sore paws. Her gaze turned toward the flowing water and she let out a quiet sigh, simply allowing herself to be washed away with the current, letting it’s bubbling waters attempt to calm her state of turmoil.
It was all she could do not to break.
Spiritstar, mother of the night
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