A rake of claws against a mirror - grazing pelts we all once wore
It was not intended to go this way but as with most things in his life recently there was little he could do to alter the course. A hunting patrol of several cats slowly and gradually began to split apart as they moved through the new territory until eventually it was just him and Hawkstar walking a path that looked as if it was once well worn but the undergrowth and vines reached out to reclaim it over the years; he wonders if his paws walked where ancient SkyClanner's once did, he wonders if his mother's spirit had followed them to this place to reunite with the StarClan above the forests. It was certainly something he hoped to be true even if he could not confirm it; he knows there are cats who might. Swallowbreeze, despite her youth, was star touched and could reach her paws upward but he was already alongside Hawkstar as they moved in quiet indifference of one another. A pair who spoke with head jerks and tail flicks, who only opened their maws to bare teeth at one another. She would know, certainly, but to ask her felt like giving something up. It wasn't pride that held his tongue, but dislike - he didn't think he ever would like her, he didn't think he'd ever look on the one-eyed molly and not see a poor replacement for the cat Coffeestar was, for the warmth she brought when tabby striped limbs only carried coldness. Mousefang was one to talk about being aloof, uninterested, but a leader had a heavier burden than a mere warrior did to carry in how they acted before a clan and she had made the mistake of removing the foundation set for her: himself and Duskpool.
Best to gauge if she is even willing to speak to him before committing to his questions, "I dread the coming cold, I prefer it green. The snow is not good hunting backdrop for cats with darker pelts, but even still I just like the way it looks better - more lively."
"Have you seen my mother since we've arrived here?" The chocolate tom asks suddenly, voice calm and green gaze averted, despite his decision not to he found the words surfaced against his will - he didn't care to look at her as he spoke, she was probably going to dismiss him anyways.
Best to gauge if she is even willing to speak to him before committing to his questions, "I dread the coming cold, I prefer it green. The snow is not good hunting backdrop for cats with darker pelts, but even still I just like the way it looks better - more lively."
"Have you seen my mother since we've arrived here?" The chocolate tom asks suddenly, voice calm and green gaze averted, despite his decision not to he found the words surfaced against his will - he didn't care to look at her as he spoke, she was probably going to dismiss him anyways.
Ooc- @Hawkstar
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Mousefang
— SkyClan Warrior (Scout)
— He/Him
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— A black rosette tabby with high white & mint green eyes.
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