How to explain what we don't understand? [skyy/pinestar] Feb 15, 2016 18:11:16 GMT
Post by katnez on Feb 15, 2016 18:11:16 GMT
Continuing on, the leader made sure to address each voiced thought, opinion, and concern in turn, repeatedly giving the assurance that no, Skyclan was not going to war. The medicine cat could feel herself beginning to relax, though a detailed expression of concern was still painted across her angled visage. There was no question in her mind that Pinestar had meant his question only as a poll of his clan’s true thoughts, he had wanted to know the desires of the cats he lead to better complete his responsibilities; however, the prospect of getting more, taking more, was a delicate one, and urged the clan onto assumptions and leaps which they shouldn’t have taken. There was a reason the tom had repeated the point that this was no declaration of war, and that he wouldn’t be endangering the lives of his clan, because in those moments, especially after the sickly sweet tones of Spiderfang, those cats would have rushed off to battle without thinking. Out of the camp, through the forest, over the river to claim what was ‘rightfully theirs.’ But how could they be so entitled?
With a sudden jolt of realization, Tawnygaze found the forested tom’s gaze upon her, leveled with pointed awareness.
A word? Just one? How many words? How many words would it take for Pinestar to strip her flesh until she was nothing but an inadequate, uncertain husk? ’How many words Pinestar..?’ Hesitating to pass a half honest smile to her friends and a short goodbye, she padded after her leader in the direction of his den. Her hind leg bit every time she dared put pressure upon it, the joints bitter and resentful of their time spent cramped beneath her in stillness. Tawnygaze could do nothing more than hold it a delicate few hair lengths above the ground and pace in her distinctive hop-along-hobble.
”Pinestar..” The she-cat’s voice was a soft call as they reached his den, an unspoken question that she sought not be answered. ’How many words…?’ The ginger gradient fae could assume he wished to confer on the meeting’s direction, but if he wanted her thoughts then he should be prepared for a jumbled and writhing thing. Her head could no more wrap around one side than the other, and every proposal left her feeling tepidly uneasy. Was it wrong of her to feel so conflicted about taking territory from another clan if it was in the name of keeping her own clan strong? Did she not first have a responsibility to the cats that were her kin? Standing in an awkward hump, her disfigured leg still held hovering above the searing pain that was the ground, Tawnygaze tried – for all she was worth she tried – to pull herself together and display only the surreal calm of the medicine cats before her. The kit in her desperately wished for Juniperjaw, and the lost soul that she was cried pleadingly for her mother. But this wasn’t something she could show, it wasn’t something she was meant even to feel. Forcing her breathing to become slow and even, the bi-colored femme searched for her leader’s gaze. Calm, collected, coolly unaffected; she tried to be everything she was meant to be and hide the emotion swimming in her burning gaze. As she had been during the meeting, Tawnygaze was quiet still, choosing to await Pinestar’s voice rather than give her own without prompt. He had called her here for a reason, she would let him voice it.