Post by Taxx on Dec 3, 2018 0:01:55 GMT -5
In the end, Smokestorm didn’t bother taking over the night watch, stalking past Darkfrost and pausing in the middle of the clearing, her chest heaving with forced deep breaths, trying to calm herself; she turned her head away when she heard Cobrashadow push his way into the camp and head straight for the warriors’ den. Best if she stayed away from there, then, and almost as in response to her silent question of where she was going to sleep tonight, Mistcloud padded from the nursery.
Her sister paused and their eyes met; the queen blinked, her head tipping to the side. Smokestorm opened her mouth, intending to assure her that everything was all right, she’d just returned from a late patrol, when the words jammed into a lump in her throat. Eyes squeezed shut, ears flattening to her head as it lowered, shoulders hunching in the flood of grief. Nothing was all right, even if there was no danger, and she couldn’t speak words that she didn’t believe in. Not right now.
Mistcloud’s shoulder was pressed to hers in the next moment, a gentle purr rising from her chest as she gently rasped her tongue between Smokestorm’s ears; the deputy leaned into the embrace, listening to the wordless murmurs of comfort, struggling not to completely give in to the misery, her breaths ragged gasps that tore at her throat as her eyes burned. The two stood in the middle of the camp, but they might have been the only cats in the world as far as Smokestorm was concerned; she couldn’t give a second’s thought to anything but her own overwhelming emotions: grief, guilt, disgust in her own failures even when everyone else brushed them aside.
She was supposed to protect her Clanmates. How could she ever take her place as leader of the whole Clan if she couldn’t even keep her family safe? A slow shake of her head, choking on each breath, unable to stop and only just aware of Mistcloud’s body against hers, her sister’s warmth and her purr constant slowly easing the constricting feeling in Smokestorm’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” was what she spoke first, eyes still closed as she waited for some reply.
“Oh, Smokestorm,” Mistcloud sighed, and gently rasped her tongue between her sister’s ears with all the experience of a mother used to calming her kit’s worries. “It’s not your fault, and I could never blame you. I know you did everything you could. Their deaths didn’t happen because you stood by and watched. It was their time, that was all. StarClan called, and I know they are safe, watching over all of us.”
A deep sigh shook Smokestorm’s lean frame, but she kept her head tucked against her sister’s gray pelt, eyes closed, giving in to the gentle grooming. “I miss them… so much.”
“So do I,” Mistcloud replied, a catch in her voice now, her chin resting on Smokestorm’s shoulders. “But their spirits remain, and they would never leave us. You know that.”
A flick of her tail, a silent agreement before a moment of quiet peace. The two remained huddled together for a moment longer, before the chill began to make both shiver, and then Mistcloud invited her sister into the nursery, where they shared a nest for the night, curled close together just as they used to, sharing memories back and forth until the gentle rhythm of Mistcloud’s purr lulled Smokestorm into a much-needed sleep.
Her sister paused and their eyes met; the queen blinked, her head tipping to the side. Smokestorm opened her mouth, intending to assure her that everything was all right, she’d just returned from a late patrol, when the words jammed into a lump in her throat. Eyes squeezed shut, ears flattening to her head as it lowered, shoulders hunching in the flood of grief. Nothing was all right, even if there was no danger, and she couldn’t speak words that she didn’t believe in. Not right now.
Mistcloud’s shoulder was pressed to hers in the next moment, a gentle purr rising from her chest as she gently rasped her tongue between Smokestorm’s ears; the deputy leaned into the embrace, listening to the wordless murmurs of comfort, struggling not to completely give in to the misery, her breaths ragged gasps that tore at her throat as her eyes burned. The two stood in the middle of the camp, but they might have been the only cats in the world as far as Smokestorm was concerned; she couldn’t give a second’s thought to anything but her own overwhelming emotions: grief, guilt, disgust in her own failures even when everyone else brushed them aside.
She was supposed to protect her Clanmates. How could she ever take her place as leader of the whole Clan if she couldn’t even keep her family safe? A slow shake of her head, choking on each breath, unable to stop and only just aware of Mistcloud’s body against hers, her sister’s warmth and her purr constant slowly easing the constricting feeling in Smokestorm’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” was what she spoke first, eyes still closed as she waited for some reply.
“Oh, Smokestorm,” Mistcloud sighed, and gently rasped her tongue between her sister’s ears with all the experience of a mother used to calming her kit’s worries. “It’s not your fault, and I could never blame you. I know you did everything you could. Their deaths didn’t happen because you stood by and watched. It was their time, that was all. StarClan called, and I know they are safe, watching over all of us.”
A deep sigh shook Smokestorm’s lean frame, but she kept her head tucked against her sister’s gray pelt, eyes closed, giving in to the gentle grooming. “I miss them… so much.”
“So do I,” Mistcloud replied, a catch in her voice now, her chin resting on Smokestorm’s shoulders. “But their spirits remain, and they would never leave us. You know that.”
A flick of her tail, a silent agreement before a moment of quiet peace. The two remained huddled together for a moment longer, before the chill began to make both shiver, and then Mistcloud invited her sister into the nursery, where they shared a nest for the night, curled close together just as they used to, sharing memories back and forth until the gentle rhythm of Mistcloud’s purr lulled Smokestorm into a much-needed sleep.