12-27-2017, 07:29 PM
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; font-size: 8.4pt; text-align:justify; line-height: 125%; width: 400px"]it was cool on skyclan's territory, a rare thing in green leaf. he was lucky that his coat was so short, or else he'd be burning from the inside out. he visioned wheatpaw, the arrogant mouse brain complaining back at camp, and he was suddenly relieved that he'd left the camp. he just needed silence. peace for himself.
easily, he leapt his way from tree to tree, weaving between the branches as though he were still on solid ground. one moment, the wind was whistling between his ears. the next, he could hear his sister's voice, her jubilant laugh ringing in his ears. she called to him, "slow down, deadpaw!" from a couple of trees behind him. but the both of them knew that he was better at tree-climbing and in them, practically a bird. "you'll have to fly before i slow down!" he bellowed back.
deadpaw blinked away the memory.
willowheart was no where in sight. what he thought was her laugh, was only the wind, it's whistle like a sharp, cruel laugh. he dug his claws into the branch he stood on. it wasn't fair. she shouldn't have died in that border skirmish. it was everyone's fault for convincing poppystar to start a fight over prey. those stupid fools. they fought and wasted herbs for nothing, and now willowheart was dead. dead, dead, dead. she was in starclan and he was going become a warrior with her. they were supposed to fight side by side.
a yowl tore through him, full of grief and mourning. the sound reverbrated between the leaves and startled birds into the air. he leaped onto one branch after the other until he forgot about wheatpaw, about his clan, about everyone he loved dying.
he only knew the feeling of flying.
easily, he leapt his way from tree to tree, weaving between the branches as though he were still on solid ground. one moment, the wind was whistling between his ears. the next, he could hear his sister's voice, her jubilant laugh ringing in his ears. she called to him, "slow down, deadpaw!" from a couple of trees behind him. but the both of them knew that he was better at tree-climbing and in them, practically a bird. "you'll have to fly before i slow down!" he bellowed back.
deadpaw blinked away the memory.
willowheart was no where in sight. what he thought was her laugh, was only the wind, it's whistle like a sharp, cruel laugh. he dug his claws into the branch he stood on. it wasn't fair. she shouldn't have died in that border skirmish. it was everyone's fault for convincing poppystar to start a fight over prey. those stupid fools. they fought and wasted herbs for nothing, and now willowheart was dead. dead, dead, dead. she was in starclan and he was going become a warrior with her. they were supposed to fight side by side.
a yowl tore through him, full of grief and mourning. the sound reverbrated between the leaves and startled birds into the air. he leaped onto one branch after the other until he forgot about wheatpaw, about his clan, about everyone he loved dying.
he only knew the feeling of flying.