@orchidbite
"Do you remember it?"
Her voice is quiet, nearly raw from how little she speaks. It is ill used, especially after the tragedy that was her brother's death. Yet, with her friend, she feels goaded into speaking. Orchidbite had not dragged her into a conversation, no - but the other's existence alone seems to inspire the white-furred moggy to try. Her paws balance on one of the higher branches of the pine tree they scale together. The ground is so far beneath them already, but she isn't afraid. Not as much as she should be, anyways.
"All that... came before. The journey, the gorge..." Is that what they even called it? Somehow, much to her dismay, she doesn't recall SkyClan's old camp. She much more remembers the front steps to her father's home, the stale floral scents that baked inside. The calloused hands of twolegs patting her back as she eagerly chirped at them. The hollowness of her stomach when she ate kibble for the first time, the warmth as she took a nap on the window sill... but not where they all once deigned from. It causes a new struggle in her heart, one fierce with self-made betrayal and frustration.
"We were so young then..." she continues with the same hoarse, meandering tone.
"Do you remember it?"
Her voice is quiet, nearly raw from how little she speaks. It is ill used, especially after the tragedy that was her brother's death. Yet, with her friend, she feels goaded into speaking. Orchidbite had not dragged her into a conversation, no - but the other's existence alone seems to inspire the white-furred moggy to try. Her paws balance on one of the higher branches of the pine tree they scale together. The ground is so far beneath them already, but she isn't afraid. Not as much as she should be, anyways.
"All that... came before. The journey, the gorge..." Is that what they even called it? Somehow, much to her dismay, she doesn't recall SkyClan's old camp. She much more remembers the front steps to her father's home, the stale floral scents that baked inside. The calloused hands of twolegs patting her back as she eagerly chirped at them. The hollowness of her stomach when she ate kibble for the first time, the warmth as she took a nap on the window sill... but not where they all once deigned from. It causes a new struggle in her heart, one fierce with self-made betrayal and frustration.
"We were so young then..." she continues with the same hoarse, meandering tone.