We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 28, 2016 20:12:11 GMT -5
LET THE YEARS WE’RE HERE BE KIND If someone had asked her before, Littlestep would have said that her most defining feature was her small size. Now, however, the mess of freshly healed scars across her hindquarters drew everyone's gaze, and she could not get used to the heat of their attention. The outcome of her meeting with the fox was not only aesthetic; nightmares with snapping teeth and angry eyes had joined the ranks of dreams about falling branches and broken friends that kept her sleep restless and ineffective, and the scar tissue limited her flexibility. Despite the changes in her life, she tried to keep everything in perspective. Had it not been for the NightClan patrol, she might be feeding the worms instead of walking along the NightClan border.
The scent of pine was always noticeably stronger in this part of the forest, and Littlestep found, as she walked along the winding path, that she did not mind it as much as perhaps she ought. With a warm breeze blowing from the other direction, NightClan's distinct smell was not as overwhelming as it normally was. Somewhat aimlessly, the she-cat arbitrarily paused to mark the border, pretending to have a purpose. She did not quite know why she was here. Her paws had carried her to the Deer Path of their own accord, and while she and her saviors had parted on fairly decent terms, she hardly expected to meet any one of them anytime soon. There was no reason for her to be here, no reason for the faint sadness that gripped her heart at the prospect of failure to fulfill something she shouldn't even want. Hazeheart was his name, she had learned, and he had a scratch on his nose because of her. She did feel a little bad about that.
Something in the air changed, and a prickling along her spine suggested that she might no longer be as alone as she thought. The rays of the afternoon sun trickled through the leaves, casting long shadows across the ground that danced as the branches swayed to the breeze. Littlestep looked around and peered unsuccessfully into the darkness for any sign of life lurking in the gloom. The forest had always felt like a fairly safe place before the fox. As the top predator, she had trusted that she had very little to fear and what she could not hunt, she could outrun or outsmart. Now she knew better, and it set her on edge. Littlestep | TreeClan | Warrior | North - Sleeping at Last LET OUR HEARTS LIKE DOORS OPEN WIDE Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Jul 4, 2016 0:02:43 GMT -5
[smear:fa401c]HAZEHEART[/smear:0693ab] 30 Moons || NightClan || Tom || Narcoleptic
It felt as if moons had passed between now and that fateful encounter with the fox, in leafbare. Truthfully, moons had passed, but Hazeheart's thoughts were still stuck in a different season, on a different face from a different Clan than the one he'd been born into.
Most of the prey would be near the ambush pond, clinging to what little clean water their territory actually had (as opposed to drinking out of stagnate puddles of marsh-water). Yet here he was, at the Deer Path, pretending as though he had a good reason for being here. Hazeheart flexed his claws experimentally on the hoof-trodden path, feeling the crunchy, dry grass that marked the territorial shift between NightClan and TreeClan.
Feeling the heat on his pelt, and comforted in his desire to lounge by the fact that he had already caught three toads this morning, Hazeheart quickly went over to the shade. Assorted lichen was his only companion when he reached the cool shadows of the trees at the border, careful to keep himself on the NightClan side of things.
Without Blackwolf being the tyrannical party leader that he was, Hazeheart had no reason to break any more border rules. Dimstar was, among other things, respectful of the Code as far as Hazeheart could tell. He was pretty relieved about that, honestly. Ravenstar's death had been a stressful, grief-filled time for NightClan, but Hazeheart, ever the optimist, liked to think of it as NightClan turning over a new leaf.
Ushering in happier times. Surely a Clan couldn't have bad luck forever?
As he normally did during the hotter months (and the colder months, come to think of it), Hazeheart dosed off.
It wasn't until a butterfly landed on his nose, tickling him awake, that he awoke with a sneeze. It was almost comical, really, and whatever frightening aura he'd been casting from the shadows of the NightClan border was dissolved under the friendly glimmer of bright blue-green eyes. He stepped out of the shadows, now craving the warmth of the sun on his mottled orange and brown and black pelt, when he spotted someone that made his heart dance in his chest.
"Littlestep!" He said, with none of the coolness he'd wished he'd said it with. "H-Hi," mewed Hazeheart, trying to speak above the joyous staccato beats in his breast. "How are you feeling? All healed up?" ☼☼☼ Word Count: 378 Words Tags: Phoenix Notes:
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jul 4, 2016 22:50:07 GMT -5
LET THE YEARS WE’RE HERE BE KIND The sound of her name had her whipping around as though a bee had stung her. “Hazeheart!” His name slipped past her lips with ease, like it had always belong there. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face and danced in her eyes at the sight of him, and it was hard to ignore the butterflies that had suddenly started flitting around inside her stomach. He remembered my name! Light steps carried her over to the border, and her loyalty to the Code prevented her from crossing it. Instead she kneaded the ground for a moment, unable to sit still when filled with happiness from such a pleasant surprise.
“I’m good! I’m doing well!” She hastened to reassure him, not quite lying but not quite telling the truth. He didn’t need to know about her nightmares and difficulty adjusting to life as an almost-but-not-really cripple (she got the sideways glances from others when they thought she wasn’t looking and the slight limp, but she could still get around), and he probably wouldn’t care anyway. Something like regret pierced her satisfied haze. He probably would care – of all the cats who saved her, he struck her as the one she could be very confident chased off the fox because he cared about others, not just because he was told it was bad to let cats be killed by other predators – but she didn’t want to dampen the mood with her problems. Or make him worry, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. Whatever. It made sense, right? She liked the NightClan tom (Not that way, she told her racing heart, Calm down. He’s a NightClan cat anyway.), and you just didn’t do that to those you care about. He had his own challenges, she was sure, and anyway, she could work through hers on her own.
In any case, she hardly knew him, and last time she checked, it was not common practice to turn near-strangers into make-shift therapists, even if said near-stranger was one of the reasons she was able to stand there right now. All of her perceptions were based off of her memories of him from her time spent in Smokefur’s den, and as those were rather stressful times, her memories were probably not very accurate. At the time, she would have likely welcomed such kindness from any cat.
“Everything’s mostly healed,” She brushed over the question quickly, briefly flicking her tail toward the fresh scars marring her haunches. “But how are you? How’s your nose?” Another smile, and then: “Chased off any foxes lately?” Littlestep | TreeClan | Warrior | North - Sleeping at Last LET OUR HEARTS LIKE DOORS OPEN WIDE Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Jul 10, 2016 21:19:35 GMT -5
[smear:fa401c]HAZEHEART[/smear:0693ab] 30 Moons || NightClan || Tom || Narcoleptic
She looked healthy. Leafbare had been tough, and almost all cats everywhere had gotten a little thinner and a little more 'wild' looking until prey had sufficiently returned by the end of Newleaf. He had first seen her caught in the throes of panic, wild-eyed and shaking as she tried desperately to claw her way free of a fox's sadistic chase.
It was like a completely different cat stood before him, and Hazeheart welcomed the rare opportunity to get to know her without the requirements of a Gathering. In the back of his mind, the young tom was aware that he shouldn't be quite so... happy to find himself in Littlestep's presence again, but Hazeheart couldn't help it.
As long as he stayed on his side of the border, as long as he didn't put his heart in his mouth and start saying ridiculous things, all would be fine. "I'm glad to hear it. You look all healed." Well, Hazeheart squinted at her flank, thinking for a moment that he had seen a few hints of scar tissue, but his mother had taught him well enough not to stare at others so he quickly directed his gaze elsewhere.
At mention of his nose, Hazeheart reflexively raised a paw to touch it, as if making sure it was still there. He mrrowed at his own sheepishness. "Still attached! And no, thankfully no more foxes. There are kits in the nursery now, so everyone's been very vigilant about that." Maybe that was something best said at a Gathering—they were Dimstar's kits after all, and the father of the litter as well as the leader of their Clan would probably want to announce it under more formal circumstances—but Hazeheart had a feeling Littlestep wouldn't go chattering away to all of TreeClan about this.
"What brought you to the border?" He mewed, half-hoping the reason was less practical and more... sentimental. "I hope I haven't interrupted your hunting."
☼☼☼ Word Count: 325 Words Tags: Phoenix Notes:
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jul 25, 2016 16:42:12 GMT -5
Her smile only grew at his antics, and she let out a quiet little chuckle, tail flicking lightly through the air. "Glad to see it." His genuine happiness was infectious, and combined with her own, it made her heart feel light enough to float away on the breeze. They barely knew each other, yet here they stood joking, albeit with the slight awkwardness of new friends still trying to get a feel for the other, as they might with a clan mate. The distrust between NightClan and TreeClan that had only worsened during Ravenstar's and Lionstar's reigns seemed nonexistent; Hazeheart seemed to bear it little mind, and she was certainly not about to give the tom a cold shoulder because he lived on the other side of the border. She liked him too much. And that was a sudden truth that had her pausing ever so slightly. She liked him... But not in that way, she quickly added. He just seemed like a good cat, and she wanted to be someone he could call a friend - maybe even a good friend. It wasn't a crime to have friends in other clans, and just because she wasn't very familiar with those in other clans didn't mean that couldn't change. Apart from the Gatherings, which were really too infrequent to befriend others, she hadn't really had the chance to get to know cats who did not belong to TreeClan, and she was realizing now that perhaps it was worth changing that. A little more friendship between the clans could hardly hurt them, and maybe it would even cut down on the bloodshed that happened far too often for her liking. They were all cats who loved and hurt and bled the same - why could they never simply get along? It was easy enough, she thought, just look at her and Hazeheart. "New kits are always wonderful," She responded lightly, a faint purr catching the tail end of her words as she thought back to the times when TreeClan's nursery had been full and brimming with new life. An air of wonderment always seemed to befall the clan when kits arrived, and the sight of the next generation of warriors curled up against their mother always warmed her heart. "I hope they grow up happy and healthy." Perhaps it wasn't the most tactically sound idea to wish good health on the youth of a clan which historically rivaled her own, but it hardly seemed fair to wish poor health or worse on an innocent litter of kits simply because they were NightClan. Why was she here? It was a question she hardly knew the answer to herself. Her paws had simply carried her here of their own accord while her mind wandered aimlessly. She had no reason, no excuse for ending up at this border, but she couldn't exactly say that she maybe secretly hoped she maybe would run into someone (which was totally not the entire reason because she had no business being that pathetic after one meeting). "Ahh I uh I just - I thought maybe our markings needed refreshing a little, but they don't, so now I'm just here," Littlestep bumbled through an answer, feeling her face heat up and embarrassment made her skin prickle uncomfortably. "No hunting was interrupted on my end! What about you?" And then the words slipped out before she could stop them: "Maybe if you have time, we could stay and chat?" Nerves hastened her on, making her wish she could take back the words. "I mean only if you have time and want to. You don't have to, and it's fine if you don't." Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Aug 1, 2016 16:41:56 GMT -5
30 Moons. Tom. Narcoleptic. ~~~~~ Littlestep invited him to stay and carry on the conversation (and hopefully a few more), Hazeheart's chest tightened, his heart filling up like a frog's throat so fast he thought he might burst on the spot. Hazeheart bobbed his head. "I can stay! I... I like talking with you, Littlestep."They were awkward, yes, and everything felt kind of new and uncertain right now, but Hazeheart was already getting the feeling that he was going to be able to talk to her with all the ease of speaking to Brightfeather or Darkblaze, or Smokefur. Hazeheart didn't want to think about the hunting he should probably do, and chose to blame this stolen moment to socialize on the weather. Even as short-pelted as he and Littlestep were, it was better to be careful in times like these. Especially when you were prone to falling asleep if your body underwent too much stress. In the back of Hazeheart's mind, he hoped the heatwave wouldn't harm Smokefur's supply of goatweed. He was still eating a little bit of those herbs every day, just to help cope with his strange condition. Speaking of that... Hazeheart flushed beneath his pelt, realizing that Littlestep didn't know. That was a first, for him. Every cat in NightClan knew about his peculiar habit of sometimes falling asleep mid-conversation. A kind of deep embarrassment pressed against the tortoiseshell tom's heart, like a bigger, bulkier cat trying to bully him back to NightClan. How would she react if he told her? What if she thought it was funny, or worse, pitied him? I'll... I'll wait to tell her. "Do you have an apprentice?" Hazeheart mewed, tail swaying softly, his tone content despite his internal struggles. "I'm hoping Dimstar might let me train one of the new kits..." Hazeheart smiled sheepishly, feeling self-conscious to have admitted such a heartfelt goal to another living soul, but he felt like that knowledge was safe with her. He hadn't even said anything to Darkblaze or Brightfeather yet. Actually, he hadn't fully come to terms with it himself. He wanted to be a mentor, but a part of the NightClan tom was conscious of the simple truth that Dimstar probably thought he was only half-a-warrior. And he'd never entrust one of his kits to half-a-warrior. Not when there were cats like Blackwolf or Sleekshade or even Hollystorm to teach the next generation. ~~~
Word Count: 400 WordsTags: Phoenix Notes:
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Aug 1, 2016 19:12:16 GMT -5
it just takes some time, little girl, you're in the middle of the ride He wanted to stay and talk! Not only that, but he also liked it. Something like relief broke through the anxiety that had started to build inside of her. He didn’t mind the way she had fumbled over her words as they tumbled out of her mouth in a way that never seemed to happen when she was talking to anyone else or the small, awkward silences that sometimes fell as they both considered what they wanted to say next. All of her life, she had been the quiet one who was more often than not talked over rather than talked to, and she had grown accustomed to it. Silence was a familiar companion, but having to find her own words to impress another tom – impress him? When had she started to care about impressing him? But suddenly she realized she did. – was new and unfamiliar. Littlestep didn’t want to mess this up; it suddenly seemed very important.
It was funny, she mused. Never in a million moons would she have pictured herself sitting on the border talking to a NightClan tom and feeling so utterly content. In this moment, she suspected that nothing could get her to move from this spot and leave Hazeheart behind. He wasn’t a bad looking tom, she was noticing now. Not particularly large, but then, she was hardly one to talk. His voice broke her out of her reverie. ”No, I don’t, actually,” She responded, shaking her head. ”I’ve never trained an apprentice before.” Lionstar had never given her the opportunity to mentor a younger cat, and she didn’t quite understand why. Since they had a den full of impressive warriors, she had never stopped to give it much thought, for she knew she didn’t really stand out from the crowd. As the moons passed by, Littlestep had just gotten used to it. She was good at that.
”I don’t know you very well yet,” The small she-cat offered, hope welling up inside her at the ‘yet’ that had slipped onto the end of her sentence. There would be a yet, correct? She wanted there to be one. ”But if it means anything, I think you’d make a good mentor.” It was true. He seemed like the type of cat who would offer patience and encouragement to even the most inept apprentice, and when all the hard work and training was over, he would be the one standing there with the warmest, widest smile on his face shouting his former apprentice’s new name the loudest. Those were the types of cats who made the best mentors, she thought. Her own mentor, Leafscar, could definitely be counted among those warriors, and she thought everything had turned out for the better because of it. At the very least, she thought he would definitely be a better mentor than some of the cats in her own clan. ”Surely Dimstar must see that; he’ll probably give you your own apprentice really soon.” Granted she was not very familiar with NightClan’s relatively new leader, but anyone with eyes could see the potential resting in the tortoiseshell tom standing before her.
Her voice turned softer. ”I remember looking forward to my apprentice ceremony so much when I was younger,” Littlestep mused. ”It seemed like the day would never come until it finally did.” The world had seemed so large at first, and then as she grew more accustomed to it, she had realized just how small it really was. Leafscar had impressed upon her that her clan mates would always be around and willing to offer guidance or support, and her own experiences had only strengthened her belief in that fact. There would always be help – and a home – for her in TreeClan. everything will be just fine everything will be alright
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Post by Fawn on Aug 3, 2016 9:17:11 GMT -5
30 Moons. Tom. Narcoleptic. ~~~~~ The kindness of her response warmed him like sunlight, and he smiled at her with almost bashful affection, amazed any cat could be so supportive of someone they'd just met. She's wonderful, he thought, stating it in his mind as though it were a fact and not just the opinion of a tom enamored with the goodness of another. "Thanks Littlestep, that means a lot. I... I wasn't made a warrior until my twenty-first moon, I had some difficulty with training and got lost in the mountains for a bit..."A sheepish laugh. Oh, why had he said that? Here he was, admitting that he wasn't a very good warrior, and probably came off as scatterbrained too. Or maybe she thinks you're brave, for surviving on your own in the mountains for three moons? The tiny voice in his head, the voice of an apprentice with feelings of hope he didn't fully understand, sounded small when compared to the voice of reason he usually tried to listen to. Self-conscious, Hazeheart smoothed down the splotchy orange and brownish-black fur on his chest, tongue rasping over the plush coat. For all the social anxiety he suddenly felt, this cat was easy to talk to. Clan didn't matter much to him, not when he had someone here who could see past his NightClan scent and see that he was a nice tom underneath it all. That was a valuable thing to have in a friend, and he silently promised to be a good one in return. He didn't know her well yet, but by StarClan, he was hoping to change that. Hazeheart smiled at Littlestep, wondering what her life was like in TreeClan. "Do you have any siblings?" He thought fondly of his littermates, of Darkblaze's silent protective nature, of Brightfeather's warm, pure aura. They were good cats too; NightClan wasn't all nastiness and unsheathed claws. Ravenstar might be right about TreeClan though, he laughed in his thoughts, heart light. They ARE a bunch of do-gooders.He liked do-gooders. ~~~
Word Count: 344 Words Tags: Phoenix Notes:
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Aug 6, 2016 15:36:57 GMT -5
it just takes some time, little girl, you're in the middle of the ride His twenty-first moon? And lost in the mountains? There was certainly a story behind that, but he seemed a little uncomfortable now, if the short laugh he let out told her anything. Entirely familiar with reluctantly answering other cats’ questions about experiences she would rather not revisit, she decidedly ignored her first instinct and did not ask what had happened. Instead, she gave him a small smile, tail flicking lightly. ”Well, better late than never, right?” Littlestep said quietly, feeling her own face heat up a little as she tried to get past the awkward spell in a manner she hoped wasn’t too conspicuous. She had never really been very good at this. ”You’re still a good warrior. I never would’ve guessed anything was a little when you came and chased that fox away.” A brief laugh of her own and then an added, ”And I don’t think the fox knew any better either.”
Spending any amount of time alone in the mountains, though, that was impressive. She did not know many cats, including the clan’s hardiest warriors, who could claim to have accomplished the same. If anything, those experiences should have alerted everyone in Hazeheart’s clan, including the young tom himself, that he was not as poor a warrior as he thought he was. She wanted to tell him this, to point it out so that he might not look so ashamed of himself in the future, but that desire warred with her urge to sweep the entire moment aside, to move on and spare him any further embarrassment. Silently she debated with herself, leaning more and more toward the latter decision as time passed, but in the end, it was the NightClan tom who made the decision for her.
Now it was her turn to feel an uncomfortable awkwardness at the turn the conversation took. Ducking her head in an affirmative, she gave a brief, ”I do.” Even after all these moons, her family had never quite repaired the rifts that separated them. When they were younger, her brother and sister had resented Littlestep for being their mother’s favorite, and though they had outgrown the grudge since moving to the warrior’s den long ago, some scars from childhood ran too deep for time to heal. There was a noticeable unease that lingered in the air during their conversations, and they danced around each other as if they were strangers trying not to accidentally offend the other party. Altogether, meeting with her family for an extended period of time was a rather unpleasant experience for everyone involved. ”We don’t really talk much,” She explained a moment later, a little of her disappointment at how everything had turned out seeping into her voice. ”But, I mean, it’s been like that for a while, and you get used to it, you know?” She wished she knew when to stop talking.
”What about you?” Littlestep continued on, glancing toward him. ”Do you have any siblings?” She hoped he had the family she wanted – warm and comforting and, if necessary, united against the world. Moons of relative loneliness had made her accustomed to her own disjointed family, but they could never quite erase the faint longing in her gut as she looked around at the many happy siblings in TreeClan. Never would she wish any harm upon the cats who had what she did not, and neither would she want anyone to have her own experiences. Everyone deserved having that group of cats who would support them no matter what.
everything will be just fine everything will be alright
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Post by Fawn on Aug 9, 2016 12:42:14 GMT -5
30 Moons. Tom. Narcoleptic. ~~~~~ With such a close relationship to his own siblings (and though it chilled him to even imagine it, he knew Darkblaze would throw himself in front of a fox if it meant protecting Hazeheart and Brightfeather), it was hard for the tortoiseshell tom to imagine anyone growing up with siblings without that kind of kinship. It must have been very lonely, to have family that felt more like acquaintances than real, lifelong friends. "My sister Brightfeather and my brother Darkblaze," he spoke fondly of them, his tail sliding through the grass to curl neatly around his paws. "They're great. Maybe you can meet them at the next Gathering? Brightfeather's very kind, and so is Darkblaze. I promise not all NightClan cats are scary." Unless you've met Blackwolf and Hollowcry and... Dimstar and... Poisonleaf...Well, maybe he should amend that statement. With a little laugh, Hazeheart corrected himself; "Well, a few of us aren't scary." It was hard to picture the likes of Sunpulse and Darkblaze putting fear into the hearts of other Clans; they always brought such a smile to his face, such a sense of belonging to a cat who had been lost for many moons, that associating such negative feelings as fear or distrust with those two was so alien to him. "I know what you mean, though. When you say you kinda get used to things." Could he trust her with this secret? It wasn't as though she would gain from it, and besides, he felt like he could trust her with anything. "Blackwolf is actually my half-brother. My father and his mother, Heatherflower, were..." What was a polite way to describe it? 'Fling' sounded silly, but that's sort of what it was. Flushing a little under his pelt, he spoke faster in an effort to get the awkward parts over with. "They were, uh, 'romantically involved' even though Heatherflower already had a mate... Anyway, Blackwolf's my older half-brother by 31 moons. Then my Dad and my mom fell in love, and that's how we got here..."He laughed a little at himself. Oops, really going off on a tangent. It was probably too much information, and she probably wasn't that interested. "He doesn't know we're half-siblings, I don't know if his mother will ever tell him." Hazeheart shrugged one shoulder up, letting it fall as he gazed pensively at Littlestep, thoughts on what could have been. "On one paw, it would be nice to have another brother, but on the other paw, Blackwolf's not a very nice cat. He's never liked me, so, you just kinda get used to not having a relationship, even if you could. Does that make sense?"Hazeheart's ears flattened with uncertainty, trying to smile to abate some of his own sheepishness. "Sorry, I guess I was talking too much! It's just that you're easy to talk to, I feel like I can be honest." He hadn't really discussed this with Darkblaze or Brightfeather. They were close, but his siblings were also busy with their own lives, and he didn't want to interrupt just to have a philosophical debate on 'what could have been' or something. ~~~
Word Count: 521 Words Tags: PhoenixNotes: This takes place BEFORE the Blackwolf PRP, so Heatherflower is still alive and Blackwolf hasn't told them yet. xD
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