trigger warning
past child abuse (verbal/psychological, physical), mentions of injury, implied trauma. later in the thread: trauma responses. viewer discretion is advised.
(backwritten to sometime in july)
(backwritten to sometime in july)
RUFOUSPAW
Welcome to the celebration, baby!
Most of their waking hours were spent watching the cave exit. It was Vulture's turn, now, to keep vigil, and though it'd been a quarter-moon since they found themselves in their current predicament, he couldn't help but pick apart their memories once more. He didn't have many other options to entertain himself, after all... and he feared Hawk would forget. It always did, with things like these. How would it know to stay alert if it didn't even remember where it stood? The molly laid down on his side (even if the movement made his leaf-wrapped leg sting like hell) and huffed.
From the beginning, then.
Gyrfalcon had finally lost it. He could tell the day was coming: the white tom had been giving them the cold shoulder longer and longer, trying to force tears out of their eyes and apologies for made-up transgressions. He'd caught a certain vindictive undertone to his usually warm greetings; a strange glint in his eyes whenever Hawk asked about the world outside... he wasn't sure if it knew in full—not while it was still unaware of his presence in their shared body, as he was of the others—but he knew for sure their progenitor's strategy was chipping away at its spirit. At that point, Vulture had seen it cry itself to sleep night after night, after who-knows-how-long of their only companion toeing the line between pity and spite every time he spoke.
Vulture never thought being proven right would hurt as much as it did that day. When they woke up, in complete darkness, to Gyrfalcon looming over them, gloating about them never leaving his side again... he can't remember if it was terror or rage that drove them to strike first. He had to admit, even he couldn't recall much of what transpired then. Of course, he knew they'd all managed to get through to Hawk—and each other—at once, and he still thought of how overwhelming it'd been... but of the battle itself, all that was left in their memory was mere fragments of the full story. Earth-shattering fear and righteous anger fighting for dominance; the feeling of their "father"'s claws raking over their leg; the way they fought and pushed and ran the second they managed to squeeze their body through the gap they'd created, and never looked back...
It must've been Hawk who was running, he thought. Nobody else would allow a group of strangers to approach them in such a sorry state, let alone carry them off wherever; though he supposed he should've cut it some slack: it had fainted at some point. And now? There they were, captured and forced into some hole off the side of a dirt wall until they were "fully" recovered. Vulture grit his teeth. Oh, Hawk... it passed out not just in body, but in soul: it had yet to wake up in their shared mind since they were brought here. Was it their escape from the sett that did it in? Or was it "ThunderClan"'s fault, somehow? The herbs they had to take, the change in the air, being kept inside another damn sett? None of them had been able to sleep lately, so there must've been something wrong there... he simply didn't know what.
And so, he watched the cave exit, hoping that—under their keen eye and threatening presence—ThunderClan wouldn't dare seal it off. They'd been through this song-and-dance already.
From the beginning, then.
Gyrfalcon had finally lost it. He could tell the day was coming: the white tom had been giving them the cold shoulder longer and longer, trying to force tears out of their eyes and apologies for made-up transgressions. He'd caught a certain vindictive undertone to his usually warm greetings; a strange glint in his eyes whenever Hawk asked about the world outside... he wasn't sure if it knew in full—not while it was still unaware of his presence in their shared body, as he was of the others—but he knew for sure their progenitor's strategy was chipping away at its spirit. At that point, Vulture had seen it cry itself to sleep night after night, after who-knows-how-long of their only companion toeing the line between pity and spite every time he spoke.
'Doesn't he know we'll grow old and leave one day?'
He'd thought to himself one time, 'everyone does. He did. He must know, if he knows everything like he claims to.'
Vulture never thought being proven right would hurt as much as it did that day. When they woke up, in complete darkness, to Gyrfalcon looming over them, gloating about them never leaving his side again... he can't remember if it was terror or rage that drove them to strike first. He had to admit, even he couldn't recall much of what transpired then. Of course, he knew they'd all managed to get through to Hawk—and each other—at once, and he still thought of how overwhelming it'd been... but of the battle itself, all that was left in their memory was mere fragments of the full story. Earth-shattering fear and righteous anger fighting for dominance; the feeling of their "father"'s claws raking over their leg; the way they fought and pushed and ran the second they managed to squeeze their body through the gap they'd created, and never looked back...
It must've been Hawk who was running, he thought. Nobody else would allow a group of strangers to approach them in such a sorry state, let alone carry them off wherever; though he supposed he should've cut it some slack: it had fainted at some point. And now? There they were, captured and forced into some hole off the side of a dirt wall until they were "fully" recovered. Vulture grit his teeth. Oh, Hawk... it passed out not just in body, but in soul: it had yet to wake up in their shared mind since they were brought here. Was it their escape from the sett that did it in? Or was it "ThunderClan"'s fault, somehow? The herbs they had to take, the change in the air, being kept inside another damn sett? None of them had been able to sleep lately, so there must've been something wrong there... he simply didn't know what.
And so, he watched the cave exit, hoping that—under their keen eye and threatening presence—ThunderClan wouldn't dare seal it off. They'd been through this song-and-dance already.
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OOC: @rowanpaw me when i'm normal (so sorry for the lateness)
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KEY:
"speech"
'thoughts''owlpaw''eaglepaw''vulturepaw'
attempted action
"other character's speech"
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Rufouspaw is a small ginger bicolor tabby with tortie point patches and odd blue-green eyes. A former loner, she faces the world with her head held high and her claws at the ready—for she believes danger is lurking at every corner. It remains to be seen whether her foolhardy yet distrusting disposition is justified...
Click on the image to see my full
reference sheet!
9 moons, ages every 6th.
Genderqueer (she/he/it); any gendered terms OK!
Gyrfalcon x Unknown — Generation 1
Host of a plural system of 4: Owlpaw, Eaglepaw, Vulturepaw and herself.
Mentored by Owlbark
