Camp RiverClan ear to the memory of a golden age ✦ jingle

[Galepaw Galepaw]

{$title} galepaw is incredibly interested in the whys and the hows

—————————————————— Rocked by an endless motion ✦

It was strange to have no purpose. He had always sort of had one—as a kit, it was simply grow older, and try to not die. It was surprising how difficult that seemed some days, but it was something to focus on. Something to sink his teeth into, something that kept him tethered. Then, he graduated from that existence. Sure, there was always the whisper of death in the back of his mind, but now he had to be useful. He had to be at the beck and call of his elders, had to bow to whatever Wavesong said. He didn't mind it really, she was kind to him and—more importantly—interesting... until she found herself a frequenter of the medicine cat den.

The tom never expected to have to scrabble for attention against little beings that didn't even know he existed, much less know anything existed, yet here he was. She could teach him well enough, but with the passing days the growing weight seemed to slow her. All of a sudden, things seemed to halt. Suddenly, the tom was far too aware of his own name, nothing more than a footnote these days. Wavesong... and Galepaw. But with her all but entirely incapacitated, he found himself as the second half of a run-on sentence. Interesting in theory, but severely lacking context.

Thus started his planning. It had always been an inquisitive thing, something that squabbled at others brains like some sort of leech, but he never made an effort of it. He never forced himself into other's lives, never left a particularly strong impression on anything really. Like the wind he was named for, the most he did was rustle a few bushes, blow a breath and then sweep it back in. He was existing, but that simply wouldn't do anymore.

Its paws found themselves moving steadily, moving rhythmically towards a familiar den. He had been in the medicine cat den a number of times, blue eyes wide and following Rainpaw's exploits. He didn't know much about herbs, nor did he know much about the why. Why was this the job given to Jinglemoon? What gave him the authority to usurp fate? To quell a wound and extend a life? It was... exciting, the prospect of fiddling with fate. It was new. It was a purpose.

With bravado far outweighing the size of the apprentice, he found himself wandering easily into the den. "Jinglemoon?" He echoed, a singsong-y call not unlike the familiar chirp of birds. "Where might you be?"

—————Whether truth or just a story

It's not up to you—————

• @Jinglemoon the boys here to ask you about herbs and also god
• 
  Galepaw
  ✦—Riverclan Apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—He/They/It
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A fluffy high white lynx point with curled ears and deep blue eyes
  #87878E #BAB2AC