Post by Phoenix on Nov 22, 2019 21:41:03 GMT -5
soldier keep on marching on
Hawkstar’s passing had shaken the clan like an earthquake. For the first time, the solid foundation upon which their feet had stood, the firm ground that they had taken for granted for being as such, had moved, fallen away and left little else except uncertainty and pain. In the era that had been Hawkstar’s reign, they had collectively forgotten that he, too, was mortal. Toward the end, his fur may have been grayer, his movements a little slower, but he had, nevertheless, still been there.
Until he wasn’t.
There was no reason Smokestar would not make just as great a leader; after all, she had managed just fine as deputy, and before that had been an invaluable warrior. But leadership was different, and never before had the responsibility of leading the clan fallen solely upon her shoulders. Whether or not their new leader could handle the burden of leadership remained to be seen, and though he did not expect the outspoken she-cat to crumble beneath that weight, he knew all too well that what he thought did not matter. This was a transition of power in StoneClan. It was a moment of weakness where experience gave way to untested mettle. The eyes of the valley were on them, and he would not put it past either of their neighbors to take advantage of their clan’s grief and their new leader’s relative inexperience. It was imperative that when they were at their weakest, they redoubled every effort to seem like they were at their strongest. Loss had been a close friend before he had even stepped foot out of the nursery; he was intimately familiar with its relentless waves. Ospreywing could stay strong. He would make sure the clan stayed safe, so that those closer to their late leader could grieve.
So to the border it was, with a quick word to Valiantstride followed by Birdtalon and Skunkspots falling into step beside him. He knew that in recent moons Hawkstar had reached a truce with Redstar over access to Sun Stones, and while that uneasy peace had thus far held, he did not trust it to last into Smokestar’s reign. There was little he trusted these days; the only thing he trusted of LightningClan was the inevitability of a fight. Historically, the border between StoneClan and LightningClan was the site of far more skirmishes than peace treaties, and he remembered all too well the horrors of StormClan.
“Do you think we’ll have to worry about aggression from RainClan or LightningClan more?” He mused out loud, the words following his train of thought. Or both. Yellow eyes flicked to the she-cat walking beside him, wondering idly if his sister had heard the silent statement that had followed. Both clans had different leaders, but he knew that history had a funny way of repeating itself. His gaze drifted to the other tom. Birdtalon still had the youth that had started to abandon Ospreywing and his sister, the youth that ensured that any stories he had heard of StormClan were elders’ tales and nothing more. It was strange to consider that, with the passing of older generations, the terror and bloodshed of that night and later battles had faded into history. For these younger cats, enemy warriors did not lurk in the dark corners of camp but rather safely beyond well-marked borders.
Ospreywing had learned early on, however, that camp was only as safe as their clan was strong.
---
Leaf-fall 27: A steady rain patters down upon the territories, refusing to ease for the rest of the day.
Until he wasn’t.
There was no reason Smokestar would not make just as great a leader; after all, she had managed just fine as deputy, and before that had been an invaluable warrior. But leadership was different, and never before had the responsibility of leading the clan fallen solely upon her shoulders. Whether or not their new leader could handle the burden of leadership remained to be seen, and though he did not expect the outspoken she-cat to crumble beneath that weight, he knew all too well that what he thought did not matter. This was a transition of power in StoneClan. It was a moment of weakness where experience gave way to untested mettle. The eyes of the valley were on them, and he would not put it past either of their neighbors to take advantage of their clan’s grief and their new leader’s relative inexperience. It was imperative that when they were at their weakest, they redoubled every effort to seem like they were at their strongest. Loss had been a close friend before he had even stepped foot out of the nursery; he was intimately familiar with its relentless waves. Ospreywing could stay strong. He would make sure the clan stayed safe, so that those closer to their late leader could grieve.
So to the border it was, with a quick word to Valiantstride followed by Birdtalon and Skunkspots falling into step beside him. He knew that in recent moons Hawkstar had reached a truce with Redstar over access to Sun Stones, and while that uneasy peace had thus far held, he did not trust it to last into Smokestar’s reign. There was little he trusted these days; the only thing he trusted of LightningClan was the inevitability of a fight. Historically, the border between StoneClan and LightningClan was the site of far more skirmishes than peace treaties, and he remembered all too well the horrors of StormClan.
“Do you think we’ll have to worry about aggression from RainClan or LightningClan more?” He mused out loud, the words following his train of thought. Or both. Yellow eyes flicked to the she-cat walking beside him, wondering idly if his sister had heard the silent statement that had followed. Both clans had different leaders, but he knew that history had a funny way of repeating itself. His gaze drifted to the other tom. Birdtalon still had the youth that had started to abandon Ospreywing and his sister, the youth that ensured that any stories he had heard of StormClan were elders’ tales and nothing more. It was strange to consider that, with the passing of older generations, the terror and bloodshed of that night and later battles had faded into history. For these younger cats, enemy warriors did not lurk in the dark corners of camp but rather safely beyond well-marked borders.
Ospreywing had learned early on, however, that camp was only as safe as their clan was strong.
---
Leaf-fall 27: A steady rain patters down upon the territories, refusing to ease for the rest of the day.
head down til the work is done
Ospreywing
