The nights are restless. Frostmoth has never been a very good sleeper. From the time they had all been in the shipyard, he vividly remembers the night that their shelter had collapsed. The way he had been awake, listening to the storm rage out of control outside before their shelter had finally given in. But now there is an additional factor. Frostmoth no longer has to worry about silly clerical things and holding his fellow council members together. Now there is this great lurking shadow casting its ugly darkness over his form. He had watched Pikestar die and come back to life. And worse: he had seen Adderfang be the perpetrator of that event. He could realistically be pointed to as the cat who tore his family unit apart by exiling him.
Frostmoth tosses and turns in his nest likely to Stormswirl's chagrin, though she does not say anything likely out of pity for the unspeakable things they have gone through as a clan. He gives up on sleep. The bicolor pulls himself out of his nest and steps out into camp. The den had become far too claustrophobic. For once, the night sky is clear of clouds. He tips his head back to gaze at the stars and the waning moon. Frostmoth's eyes wander among the stars, but he finds that he does not address StarClan in his mind. There is already too much in his mind for him to consider spirituality and ancestors.
He turns eyes toward the camp entrance, pondering a midnight walk. It was unlikely anyone else was awake at this hour anyhow.
- @pineheart
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★ FROST — he/him, riverclan deputy, 21 moons
— penned by carat, feel free to ping or dm for plots!
— longhair black and white bicolor with blue eyes
— peaceful powerplay ok! all interactions ok!
- penned by carat!
