Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2021 16:24:35 GMT -5
TREECLAN LEADER |
54 MOONS |
THE PROBLEM IS YOU THINK YOU HAVE TIME
It was warranted, the division between him and the clan.
Pumafang stalked past TreeClan's forests like death, night ripping and tearing at his figure until his presence was but an empty, black void. Though it was peace, that void. A quiet place for contemplation, of which he suspected most of the clan hardly completed. Children. He equated. They're only children, and I'm no father. He felt the wet earth around him. The rain had lightened up.
Pumafang enjoyed his trips into the forest, though the darkness had yielded such crypticism, he could hardly deny himself active curiosity. He was pulled to the perimeters of the territory, yanked rather, by a force he couldn't quite place a paw on. Perhaps it was altruism, knowing they would be better without him. Perhaps it was insanity, knowing they would rather be without him.
He could feel it under his skin, the enmity TreeClan had towards his ideals, and yet, their acceptance or critique fell on deaf ears. Their abrasiveness only made his callouses thicker. Pumafang felt strength ripple through him from brain to bone, and an eerie grin kissed the edges of his maw ever so slightly. His paws carried him further, and despite his desire to see the clans prosper, he knew it would not be something he himself could address any more than he already had.
The problem was deeper than actions and words, in a territory Pumafang was quite unfamiliar and inept in.
Pumafang couldn't understand the intricacies of community and the social ties that leadership entailed. He hated to think that the death of Demon gave him one less piece to maneuver on the board of life, but it was true. And his best piece of all?
Lionstar's pride ripped him from his family.
It was an intrusive and damaging thought, knowing the sacrifices the tom had made to protect a clan so ravaged by dissent and disrespect. Pumafang believed in natural consequence. Honesty. Survival of the strongest, or smartest be it so.
And yet, he still retained some sort of familiarity towards TreeClan. He couldn't quite call it affinity, but it was one home, of many, rich with memories and ghosts.
Pumafang felt the night air bathe his skin, still warm from the day before like a fast-fading breath. Trees shivered as he passed stealthily beneath their boughs, a shadow darker than night slinking across moist loam. The breeze fled from him, carrying his paws forward towards the unknown.
Upward.
Scrambling.
Upward more, until he manifested along a rough-cut mountainside jagged with rock, stone, and moonlight. The wind strengthened, and the altitude made his head spin and his breaths just slightly shallower.
"You came."
A high pitched voice whispered lightly in the fading night.
Pumafang saw a shape emerge from the undergrowth of the beyond. Stars close to the horizon had blended into the rising dawn.
"Of course." Pumafang murmured, shifting in beside the brown she-cat like a panther.
"You sound unbothered."
Pumafang's tail twitched slightly, amber eyes reaching into the blue orbs of his new acquaintance. His chest tightened slightly, a soft flicker of familiarity and desire quenched by the unfamiliarity of her tabby stripes. The contours of her face. The redness in her fur. The warmth in her voice: something that Timberfrost rivaled with cold comfort and strength of character.
He sat beside the strange she-cat, perhaps a touch emptier than before.
"The choice was right." Pumafang rumbled, watching as the sun melted along the mountains, dripping over the icecaps with soft, rosy light. It was hard to believe it was the last sunrise he would see over the valley. He shrugged. The concept of clan would survive, and the family Lionstar spent so much of his life to protect will continue to fight, survive, and prosper in their own small minded ways.
It was time for him to let the dominos fall.
"Are you ready for your first treatment?" The she-cat murmured, softly gathering a few herbs together between her paws, the honeyed light dribbling over the ashen rocks around them.
Pumafang sent one last glance towards the valley before turning to his healer.
"I'll take your placebo," He muttered. "But in return, you help me send this boulder off down the cliff."
He wasn't going to be buried at the base of a tree.
He was going to be buried at the base of a mountain.
Pumafang stalked past TreeClan's forests like death, night ripping and tearing at his figure until his presence was but an empty, black void. Though it was peace, that void. A quiet place for contemplation, of which he suspected most of the clan hardly completed. Children. He equated. They're only children, and I'm no father. He felt the wet earth around him. The rain had lightened up.
Pumafang enjoyed his trips into the forest, though the darkness had yielded such crypticism, he could hardly deny himself active curiosity. He was pulled to the perimeters of the territory, yanked rather, by a force he couldn't quite place a paw on. Perhaps it was altruism, knowing they would be better without him. Perhaps it was insanity, knowing they would rather be without him.
He could feel it under his skin, the enmity TreeClan had towards his ideals, and yet, their acceptance or critique fell on deaf ears. Their abrasiveness only made his callouses thicker. Pumafang felt strength ripple through him from brain to bone, and an eerie grin kissed the edges of his maw ever so slightly. His paws carried him further, and despite his desire to see the clans prosper, he knew it would not be something he himself could address any more than he already had.
The problem was deeper than actions and words, in a territory Pumafang was quite unfamiliar and inept in.
Pumafang couldn't understand the intricacies of community and the social ties that leadership entailed. He hated to think that the death of Demon gave him one less piece to maneuver on the board of life, but it was true. And his best piece of all?
Lionstar's pride ripped him from his family.
It was an intrusive and damaging thought, knowing the sacrifices the tom had made to protect a clan so ravaged by dissent and disrespect. Pumafang believed in natural consequence. Honesty. Survival of the strongest, or smartest be it so.
And yet, he still retained some sort of familiarity towards TreeClan. He couldn't quite call it affinity, but it was one home, of many, rich with memories and ghosts.
Pumafang felt the night air bathe his skin, still warm from the day before like a fast-fading breath. Trees shivered as he passed stealthily beneath their boughs, a shadow darker than night slinking across moist loam. The breeze fled from him, carrying his paws forward towards the unknown.
Upward.
Scrambling.
Upward more, until he manifested along a rough-cut mountainside jagged with rock, stone, and moonlight. The wind strengthened, and the altitude made his head spin and his breaths just slightly shallower.
"You came."
A high pitched voice whispered lightly in the fading night.
Pumafang saw a shape emerge from the undergrowth of the beyond. Stars close to the horizon had blended into the rising dawn.
"Of course." Pumafang murmured, shifting in beside the brown she-cat like a panther.
"You sound unbothered."
Pumafang's tail twitched slightly, amber eyes reaching into the blue orbs of his new acquaintance. His chest tightened slightly, a soft flicker of familiarity and desire quenched by the unfamiliarity of her tabby stripes. The contours of her face. The redness in her fur. The warmth in her voice: something that Timberfrost rivaled with cold comfort and strength of character.
He sat beside the strange she-cat, perhaps a touch emptier than before.
"The choice was right." Pumafang rumbled, watching as the sun melted along the mountains, dripping over the icecaps with soft, rosy light. It was hard to believe it was the last sunrise he would see over the valley. He shrugged. The concept of clan would survive, and the family Lionstar spent so much of his life to protect will continue to fight, survive, and prosper in their own small minded ways.
It was time for him to let the dominos fall.
"Are you ready for your first treatment?" The she-cat murmured, softly gathering a few herbs together between her paws, the honeyed light dribbling over the ashen rocks around them.
Pumafang sent one last glance towards the valley before turning to his healer.
"I'll take your placebo," He muttered. "But in return, you help me send this boulder off down the cliff."
He wasn't going to be buried at the base of a tree.
He was going to be buried at the base of a mountain.
[attr="class","pftag"]TAGGED Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess Katara Justice Abyss Hellion Fae Magic Gemini ♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 | [attr="class","pfwc"]WORDS xxx |
For all the valley is concerned, Pumastar died in a rockslide on the morning of Newleaf 20. If they track him that far. His declining health was undiscernible, even to those closest to him. In the days leading up to Newleaf 16, Pumafang would be more distant than usual, fatigued, nausea/vomiting, and poor neurological health (headaches, balance, coordination, vision problems...etc.). It is suggested he has either brain inflammation or a brain tumor, though this isn't common knowledge to any besides the medicine cats and his deputy, Mossheart.
He would be absent from TreeClan as of Newleaf 16.