I'm a young soul in this very strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake
But why all this hate? Try to communicate
Finding trust and love is not always easy to make
.
Worry prickled beneath her fur as Weaselchirp moved through the territory, her paws crunching softly against the snow. The world felt far too bright, far too open. Her usual wide, shining eyes squinted against the pale glare, unused to so much white when she so often belonged to the dark, to the hush of packed earth and stone. The tunnels did not blind you. They held you. Up here, the sky pressed down in a way she did not like. She knew she had to hunt. The clan still needed prey, storms or no storms, grief or no grief. Her body went through the motions, ears swiveling, nose tasting the air. But her mind refused to follow. It wandered. Again. And again. Back to the meeting.
To Hollowmumble's shriek, sharp and raw, cutting through the gathering like a crack of lightning. To the worry threaded through their words, unmistakable and justified. To Silentstep's voice rising behind them, firm, alarmed, unwilling to let the concern be swallowed by order and obedience. To all the voices layered atop one another, fear and frustration and loyalty tangling until the air itself had felt tight. She had thought, at first, that it was only a hunt. A patrol skirting near SkyClan territory, nothing more than cautious paws and quick returns. Something manageable. But the realization had settled in slowly, cruelly. It was more. There was a very real chance they were being sent to take prey from SkyClan land. Not simply to observe. Not simply to pass by. To steal. And the thought sat wrong in her chest, heavy as wet soil. Her mind dragged up memories she did not want. Blood spilled during the First Gathering of the ThunderClan leader. The image of that pointed king standing tall, blood dark against her muzzle.
This was how things began. This was how the earth learned new names. Her heart trembled for the cats on that patrol. Ripplemist, her brother, fast and bright and too willing to run toward danger if it meant protecting others. Cloverbloom, her apprentice, clever paws and a thoughtful mind she had helped shape. Young Jaypaw, still learning what it meant to carry responsibility. Feisty Gorsehowl, fire in her chest. Sweet Nutmegpurr. Harvestseeker. Talonpaw, sharp-edged and hurting in ways few bothered to truly see. No. No, it did not sit well with her at all. As much as her grief burned, as much as she despised whichever SkyClanner had laid claws on Molewhisker, this was not the answer. Violence only taught the earth how to swallow more bodies.
She breathed out a long, quiet sigh, steam curling faintly in the cold air. Then she spotted two lone figures ahead, shapes against the snow. Her steps slowed, then quickened, recognition flickering through her gaze. A blink. " Silentstep. Jaypaw. " She bounded toward them, the tension easing just slightly at the sight of familiar faces. As she drew close, her thin tail brushed gently along Silentstep's flank, grounding, reassuring. Her large ears flicked back briefly as she looked to Jaypaw, concern softening her expression. Would he be alright? Would any of them? She did not demand answers. She did not pry. Instead, her voice lowered, warm despite the cold. " Words can sometimes do nothing.. " she murmured. " But presence... " there was a moment of silence, a thoughtful tilt of her head. " Presence can be a welcome companion. "
Her orange eyes moved between them, open and steady. " If you wish to trade words, to speak, or simply to walk without saying anything at all... I am here. "
Speech, thoughts/emphasis
