{$title} After a gruesome fight, Talonpaw returns after being gone all night injured and... Is he scared? Openly?
Talonpaw did not know much about cold. He did not remember when he was young, how bitter and relentless the cold really was. He was too young, too young…. He should've been allowed to be a child- but he never had been. Since the day his paws began to walk, they'd been walking tirelessly.
Since the day he could run, they'd been running not in strength- as he had once thought, but in fear.
Since the day he could draw his claws, they were used to learn. Since the day his teeth grew- they were meant to rip into flesh. He was inexperienced even now, but his entire life he had realized he had been cold.
The winds against the moorlands were harsh tonight as the moon settled high above. Stars shimmered as if blood did not drip a path behind the boy as he moved, staining dying green grass with his blood. For the first time in his life, he'd admit his paws were heavy- tired. They pulled at moss to settle between his teeth to try to collect the blood that poured, but it wasn't enough. His teeth bare against the wind he was unused to, but the pain his body felt did not match the pain he felt inside. He'd remember Dimmingsun had mentioned he was hurting- but he didn't realize what the tom meant fully until now. Until his heart thudded against its cage, until his blue eye expressed the tiredness he usually fought against.
For the first time in his life, Talonpaw really felt defeated.
The moon began dropping, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. His blood had slowly began to ebb and his pain had subsided to a numbness, but anxiety began to curl instead. He had lost the prey he was supposed to be hunting. He had lost the fight he should've been able to win. He had lost, not just the fight physically, but mentally as well- caved in to the stigma of violence he didn't want to crave anymore.
And more than anything- he was scared. It washed off of him in waves as he entered camp to waking bodies. He ignored the gazes, he couldn't hear the murmurs. But when his gaze settled on Merrystalk- perhaps he could see the fear in his eyes despite his attempt at the blank stare.
He'd been out all night… with nothing to show. "I got attacked," he explained, enunciating through the pain in his mouth, letting the bloodied moss fall from his jaws. His blue gaze was steady on the other, unwavering. "I lost the squirrel I had caught that ran across our border. I caught it on our side, an' I felt eyes, so I watched the shadows. Their body shot out," he shook his head.
"The specifics don't matter. 'm sorry." He murmured, his tail dragging in the dirt as he dipped his head. He was causing more trouble than he was worth. His shoulder, his face, his paws- they were stained with blood, and now- even Dustystar stood before him. He said nothing but the truth, except that he had lost. And to admit that was painful to say the least.
Somewhere in all of that, he had lost himself- and shame filled him. Anger towards himself. "I need… Dimmin' or Meadowpaw…" he admitted sheepishly, shifting on his paws as his gaze finally dropped from the other two, letting his eye slowly
closed in defeat. If he didn't get help, Meadowpaw would have his head, likely.
Return from this thread //
Please wait for @Dustystar and @Merrystalk
Since the day he could run, they'd been running not in strength- as he had once thought, but in fear.
Since the day he could draw his claws, they were used to learn. Since the day his teeth grew- they were meant to rip into flesh. He was inexperienced even now, but his entire life he had realized he had been cold.
The winds against the moorlands were harsh tonight as the moon settled high above. Stars shimmered as if blood did not drip a path behind the boy as he moved, staining dying green grass with his blood. For the first time in his life, he'd admit his paws were heavy- tired. They pulled at moss to settle between his teeth to try to collect the blood that poured, but it wasn't enough. His teeth bare against the wind he was unused to, but the pain his body felt did not match the pain he felt inside. He'd remember Dimmingsun had mentioned he was hurting- but he didn't realize what the tom meant fully until now. Until his heart thudded against its cage, until his blue eye expressed the tiredness he usually fought against.
For the first time in his life, Talonpaw really felt defeated.
The moon began dropping, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. His blood had slowly began to ebb and his pain had subsided to a numbness, but anxiety began to curl instead. He had lost the prey he was supposed to be hunting. He had lost the fight he should've been able to win. He had lost, not just the fight physically, but mentally as well- caved in to the stigma of violence he didn't want to crave anymore.
And more than anything- he was scared. It washed off of him in waves as he entered camp to waking bodies. He ignored the gazes, he couldn't hear the murmurs. But when his gaze settled on Merrystalk- perhaps he could see the fear in his eyes despite his attempt at the blank stare.
He'd been out all night… with nothing to show. "I got attacked," he explained, enunciating through the pain in his mouth, letting the bloodied moss fall from his jaws. His blue gaze was steady on the other, unwavering. "I lost the squirrel I had caught that ran across our border. I caught it on our side, an' I felt eyes, so I watched the shadows. Their body shot out," he shook his head.
"The specifics don't matter. 'm sorry." He murmured, his tail dragging in the dirt as he dipped his head. He was causing more trouble than he was worth. His shoulder, his face, his paws- they were stained with blood, and now- even Dustystar stood before him. He said nothing but the truth, except that he had lost. And to admit that was painful to say the least.
Somewhere in all of that, he had lost himself- and shame filled him. Anger towards himself. "I need… Dimmin' or Meadowpaw…" he admitted sheepishly, shifting on his paws as his gaze finally dropped from the other two, letting his eye slowly
closed in defeat. If he didn't get help, Meadowpaw would have his head, likely.
Return from this thread //
Please wait for @Dustystar and @Merrystalk
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Talon he/him, windclan 8 moons old.
black tabby with dark greyish brown undercoat and white underbelly. white crest on chest, and scars lining left side of face, blinding his right eye. icey blue eyes and white that is slowly starting to streak his features. Back scars non-existent for now.
mentored by Merrystalk // mentoring none
littermate to none
NPC x NPC / father/mother to none / mated to none
"speech" // "thoughts"
penned by Deidre ↛ deidre on discord, feel free to dm for plots. Art by PurpleCandyCorn.
