[Fae Magic]

[googlefont="Cormorant"]

FLINTSTORM

The scent of iron was heavy on Their tongue as the brown and grey fur tickled Their nose the feline had to stop from sneezing. They really weren't going to complain though. Leaf-bare had been tough on everyone so it was a relief to finally have the warmth of Green-leaf to allow more prey and plants alike to flourish while they come out of hibernation. So, perhaps it was the warmth of the weather or perhaps it was the pride of a good hunt that Flintstorm found a pep in Their step as They padded along the path heading towards camp; the sound of voices and the shuffling of feet graced Their ears as the streamline body slipped through the entrance and pale green eyes surveyed the scene of the lively camp in front of Them. Some cats were milling about in pairs chatting and enjoying the warmer weather whilst others were sharing a meal or dozing alone in the patches of sun. That's very good; it's exactly what Flintstorm liked to see. Things were still hard in the hearts and minds of the cats due to the earthquake that stole their homes and some friends or family so despite having situated well enough in their new land and camp the silver tabby was still aware that darkness and the fogginess of doubt lingered in some minds. Seeing Their clanmates enjoying a decent day out in the warmer weather was a good sign. Oh and looks like there were some smiles too.

Nodding almost to Themself, Flintstorm padded across camp to the pile of fresh kill that the morning hunting patrol had added to before placing the rabbit to the pile and the mouse that dangled by it's tail flopped on top of it. Decent kills if Flintstorm wasn't trying so hard but the feline could only carry so much in Their jaws so They did not kill as much as They wished to. No need for more anyways when hunting patrols came and went periodically to make sure that the pile stayed decently filled for the clan's consumption. The green optical turned from the pile to scan along the camp before finding a nice warm spot unoccupied by the another in the sun to lay out Their lanky frame. The sun warming the silver fur dappled and striped with darker almost black stripes while at the same time warming inside. A nice nap would do after a decent hunt while surrounded by the voices and presence of the rest of the clan to ease the tension from Flintstorm's shoulders. The warrior worried too much too often for the clan despite not spending much time talking with members.

A solitary creature that Flintstorm was didn't mean that the warrior disliked the presence or company of the clan that They grew up in simply that solitude was just what they were used to. Well, that was before the earthquake happened at least. Now it seemed that Flintstorm's life was filled with chattering and a firey bundle of the worst kind. Annoyance twitched the dark browns as keen ears picked up the specific voice that the warrior was unfortunate to be rather accurate in pinpointing. Having heard it so many times for long periods of a single day at a time that Flintstorm was well accustomed and conditioned to picking up even when They didn't want to. If Starclan was punishing the warrior for prior mistakes or for loving someone They shouldn't have well lets just say the silver tabby was paying for it tenfold.

They could sense the kit's presence before the annoying voice grated at the warrior's ears but then came the contact. Flintstorm was not one who was big on physical contact; a lot less than verbal conversations so when that fire colored tom chose to barge in on Flintstorm's quiet time the silver warrior's eyes rose to shoot a glare at the younger clan mate. Why in Starclan's name did he decide that Flintstorm was god all of a sudden? Saving the kit's life wasn't all that big of a deal if it meant the little leach would stick to the warrior's flank. Okay, maybe that was far too harsh. Russetkit was after all still young and Flintstorm was not one to abandon anyone regardless of what ties the kit had to the warrior's past but dear god was peace and quiet too hard to ask for around here?!

A black tipped tail lashed and brushed the ground behind the stretched form and green eyes glared at the bright faced and bushy tailed individual staring at Them as if Flintstorm was holding the secrets of the universe. A sigh that toned off into a groan was exhaled heavy and long from Their chest before Their voice spoke up breaking through what should have been a peaceful morning. "Should you be out here by yourself?" that was a far more polite way of Flintstorm asking why the hell the kit was bothering the warrior instead of playing with the other kits within the nursery. It wasn't like there was none to entertain and Flintstorm had been across camp; literally farthest away from the nursery for this very purpose but this danged kit seemed to have Flintstorm on his little radar at all times no matter where They were in camp.

"This is Flint speaking." And this is Flint thinking.

Galeclan Warrior

Abyss

WORD COUNT 983 | TAGS xvinn | NOTES: Sorry it took so long!

[xvinn]

russetkit (he/they) | galeclan

Full of energy and clearly getting too big for the nursery, a kit who could easily be mistaken for an apprentice by his size alone laid on his back, the sun shining down on his belly. But while he seemed to remain rather still in body, it was clear that the kit's paws were itching to run and move. The kit rarely seemed able to sit still, so it almost seemed a moment of respite when his head sat on a swivel, going back and forth looking around the camp.

Fact of the matter was, Russetkit was often lonely. They had heard Harestrike and Mudpelt's stories twenty times over, and could practically recall every story word for word by this point. The other kits in the nursery had littermates to play with and mothers to look over them, and sometimes they pulled the kits away when Russetkit came bumbling in, as though they were scared that they might crush the kits with their play-fighting, which he had overheard from more than one queen was "too rough".

Not only was he lonely, but this also often drew into boredom. Not having many others to really play with, and feeling as though he was taking up space in the nursery, Russetkit often found it hard to pass the time. The days often all felt the same, their imagination only being able to take them so far. The ginger-tinted brown tabby spent days watching the warriors and apprentices come and go, watching Owlstar and Nightrunner speak to one another, setting up patrols and talking of the news of the day. Even Sorrelheart, one of the older queens, who was known for being soft-spoken and kind-hearted, seemed to get tired of Russetkit asking her every day for things to do.

So when yellow eyes spotted a familiar silver figure, the kit rolled over onto their feet and launched themselves across the camp. "Flintstorm!" he called out excitedly, not entirely sure whether or not the warrior heard him. But as Russetkit got closer, there was some clear misjudgement on the remaining distance between the two as his paws skidded, causing him to bump into the older cat. He took a moment to step back, shaking his head from the collision before the shake naturally rang through his entire body to the tip of his tail. Still, excited to see someone who would actually talk to him and who had something new to talk about, Russetkit looked with bright eyes at Flintstorm, tail practically twitching with anticipation. "What did you do today? Were you out hunting? You smell of fresh prey! What did you catch?"

As the questions bowled out of Russetkit, they were soon met with a question in return. For a quick moment, he wasn't sure how to respond - he didn't want Flintstorm to pity the kit if he told the truth that it didn't seem like anyone in the nursery would even notice his disappearance other than the breath of fresh air from him not taking up room. So, instead, the ruddy coloured kit picked up their head and tried to look triumphant, "I'm almost an apprentice, you know!" they pointed out, which wasn't entirely far from the truth. He was five moons now, with six moons just peeking out from the corner, one of the things that made their paws itch with anticipation. "I bet Owlstar's going to have my naming ceremony soon - do you think you'll be my mentor?" they suddenly asked, their eyes going wide with the excitement of the mere thought in itself.

@flintstorm ● 596 words

[Fae Magic]

[googlefont="Cormorant"]

FLINTSTORM

If Starclan was trying to teach Flintstorm a lesson the warrior wanted to spite them for it. What exactly did the lesson entail? Patience? Humility? or was it temper? Jeez. Why wasn't this kit with his father instead of seeking the one feline who clearly didn't want company. Ever since the earthquake Russetkit had been glued to the tabby. Like a freaking bat with it's solar abilities seeking the warrior out no matter where in camp They may have been. Regardless if They were alone or not. A little rust colored shadow never too far away. It probably would have flattered any other cat to have such attention; to be looked up to by someone so much younger. But Flintstorm was not one of those; not after the kit's very existence was tied to lies and deciet. They couldn't be mad though; love was a fickle thing sometimes and judgement often mistaken or not foolproof. It could be something like that, or it could be that nagging thought, the little voice in the back of the warrior's head that kept poking at Them. 'Could have been Them. Should have been hers. Should have been the father and not that Weasel warrior.' but Flintstorm was not a sentimental creature. Every animal had some sort of sentimental ties that pulled at their heartstrings; the pining and the wishing. The longing to be a part of something or be something they were not. But when those pale eyes opened to see the excited face of the young kit in front of Them that little voice was quickly drowned out in favor of the feeling of frustration to boil over.

So high of a voice squeaking at Them like a baby bird. Eyes rolled a little as the lanky figure rose to sit up only if to put some sort of distance between their faces as Flintstorm stared down at the bouncing red furball in front of Them. So many questions man! What was this an interview or something? Forcing the ruffle of the silver tabbied fur back down the warrior finally graced the little thing with a short but curt reply.

"Yes. I just returned." one blink then two before the pale green orbs drifted over the kit's head as if they were searching for something. A distraction, maybe someone else more interesting to talk to as an excuse to brush the kit aside.

But then the voice of Their little sister echoed in Their head. 'Don't you remember what we talked about? Don't treat people like they are overlooked or unwanted; that sort of attention will cause a bad attitude especially for someone so young. Don't you remember when we were little?' ugh why was she so smart? Lips curling into an ugly snarl that was not actually directed towards the kit this time the warrior finally turned Their attention back to the energetic furball.

They'd blame the temper on a bad day or lack of sleep if anything and shoved anymore sarcastic or rude comments aside. Dang Their sister for being a sweetheart; They'd do anything for her so thus the silvery figure forced to answer in a little more detail to the questions.

"I was hunting earlier yes, I had just returned actually. I believe it was a..." brows scruched a bit. "A rabbit and a mouse that I caught. The rabbit gave me a good run for the morning but the mouse well...no wonder we have such insults as mousebrain." a shrug of shoulders ended the explanation before eyes narrow down at the kit as he went on to ramble about a ceremony.

Oh dear, was the kit actually old enough to be an apprentice already? Where had the time flown by? Last time They'd checked the kits were still well...young. Looking down at the rusty colored tom a moment with a more critical eye Flintstorm felt a small pang of equal parts dread and equal parts amusement. The idea that the warrior would be placed as the mentor of this kit was just a chaotic thought; the warrior would no doubtly be arriving to the Russetkit's warrior ceremony with patches of silver fur missing by the end of it if by chance Owlstar did in fact pair them together.

"So soon already? You will definitely be giving whomever is unlikely enough to be paired with you a run for their money." a sigh escaped before there was no real bite behind the words. Flintstorm was more dreading the idea of becoming a mentor; not so much as being Russetkit's mentor although that would be a terrible headache as well but more so because the tabby had no idea how to...well be a mentor.

Be encouraging? Yeah no, that's not Flintstorm's trait. Be a leader and show others how it's done? Nope, They preferred to be left alone to Their own devices. Be a role model? That's out the window, Flintstorm was using Their twin sister as a role model and they were the same freaking age! That'd be a disaster for sure.

"I'm sure Owlstar will choose someone more to your level of...energy. I am most certainly not on your wave length child." Flintstorm stated gruffly and looked away. "I am not exactly mentor material I promise you. But good luck with whomever it is you get as a mentor; I am sure they will need it." They added with a slight chortle behind words at the joke. Not so much as making fun of the kit but...well it would be entertaining none the less.

"You still did not answer my question though, what on earth are you doing out here alone? Do the queens know of your escapade?" one brow raised accusingly as Flintstorm turned Their attention to the kit.

"This is Flint speaking." And this is Flint thinking.

Galeclan Warrior

Abyss

WORD COUNT 960 | TAGS xvinn | NOTES sorry for the long wait!

[xvinn]

russetkit (he/they) | galeclan

Russetkit was quiet and at attention whenever Flintstorm talked, purring at their joke about the idiotic mice. He'd never considered why anyone used the term mouse-brain, but now it made total sense, making his eyes sparkle with amusement.

As Flintstorm went on saying that they might not be Russetkit's mentor, there was a small flush away of the kit's joy. They looked around the camp, almost nervously. They knew the way that the queens treated them, shooing them away most times and saying that they were too big to play with the younger kits and saying that they should find something more useful to do. They wanted him to play by himself, but a kit could only find so much entertainment. It seemed like a lot of the warriors would also shoo Russetkit away, saying that he was just getting in the way and tangling up their paws as they walked by. At least Owlstar always seemed to care, giving Russetkit a kind soft blink and purr whenever she saw him. But they knew that she was like that to everyone who was young.

Their head snapped back to Flintstorm, "Don't say that - I'm sure you would be a great mentor!" they exclaimed defensively, suddenly standing up on all four paws. It was when the kit was on his feet that it would make his size a little bit more clear. He was clearly no longer the size of an average kit, not even the size of a young apprentice, but rather, the size of a cat who'd been in the apprentice's den a few moons. It was clear with each passing day that he would grow into being a rather large cat, and his size perhaps made it a little more clear why the queens weren't as inviting of him still being in the nursery and wanting to shoo him out at nearly every chance they got. "Even if it wasn't to me, any kit would be lucky to have you as their mentor! You're kind and gentle and so smart! I'd bet you would be really good at pointing out where a cat needs to improve on their hunting crouch or their fighting skills!" Russetkit suddenly felt strangely defensive of Flintstorm talking poorly about themselves. Though it was true they would love to specifically have them as their mentor, the idea that they would never want to take on an apprentice almost broke Russetkit's heart. Didn't every warrior usually take on an apprentice eventually? Every cat should get the chance to help raise the next generation of warriors who would make GaleClan strong, teaching them different ways to stalk and fight so that certain techniques never died.

When the final question was pushed once more, Russetkit felt his fur get hot as he sat down again, ears flattening against his head. He knew he couldn't keep ignoring the question, but he hated the idea of Flintstorm pitying him. He looked down and played with his paw in the sand before giving a heavy sigh, "They don't want me in there..." he relented finally with a sigh. "They give me looks and won't let me play with the other kits - I'm too big so they think I'm going to be rough but - but I wouldn't!" he pleaded aloud to Flintstorm, finally reaching their gaze again, desperation practically streaming from his eyes. "I would be so careful! I'm not dumb, I know I'm too big for the nursery, but the kits play with the apprentices, so why can't they play with me too? They think I'm too dumb or careless ... they think I'm a mouse-brain ..." they said, defeated, bringing the coversation full circle to Flintstorm's earlier comment about how dumb mice seemed to be.

Fae Magic / flintstorm ● 675 words

[Fae Magic]

[googlefont="Cormorant"]

FLINTSTORM

They had to remind themselves that the future of the clan lay within the paws of the little ones that come after warriors like Flintstorm; it was the duty of the older generation to guide and mentor the younger ones in hopes the clan will survive and grow. But Flintstorm never thought Themselves as mentor material. They could hardly stand the attention of others who weren't very good at keeping their true feelings on the warrior from being written all over their faces. The individual enjoyed silence; gave time for observation. A lot could be heard and seen from simply taking time to really look at the scene around them. They were very good with picking up the smallest of details; unless it stared Them straight in the face. Silence did not always mean peace for Flintstorm; a cruel reality the warrior was familiar with. The cold loneliness that will not leave one's soul in favor of something brighter, lighter, and warmer. It was partly due of Their own accord; shoving away everyone else in fear of the inevitability that they will find Them unacceptable and leave Flintstorm cold and empty. For many many moons the warrior had perfected the art of distancing Themselves from others; fortunate or unfortunate for Them said tactic did not work on one particular furball that stood determined and earnest as he declared all the nonsense only a kit with unbound amount of energy and blind faith could possess.

What did this kit know anything of Flintstorm? One could only assume little as the warrior is not one who expresses much to the public eye so Russetkit's declaration of just how good the warrior was sent an arrow into Their heart. Flintstorm was not good; not in the sense of sunshine and warmth that others might possess. Their 'good' traits came off as distant and cold; a shadow of a caress that people overlook. Subtle actions were Their specialty and as of yet Flintstorm has not found one soul within the clan to see Their true potential; of what the warrior had to offer.

Brows turned down slightly as green eyes turned to stare at the kit who upon standing did not look much like a kit anymore. When had Russetkit grown so much? He would surely make a good warrior one day if only he would open his eyes to reality. A dull hum escaped the warrior's throat as Their eyes shifted to scan the clearing of the densite; an excuse to study others while attention was uncomfortably beaming up at Them through shining eyes.

"You see things in a light only one as young as yourself allows." Flintstorm finally rumbles out attempting to pacify the kit "You see what you wish to in others without truly understanding the losses they have endured and the triumphs they had succeeded in over time to make them as they are today. But you are young; someday you will see the world through new eyes and realize not everything..or everyone is as they seem." the words were spoken solemnly but quiet as Flintstorm attempted to brush away the uncomfortable heat of the younger's words of praise. It was not attention that the warrior was used to nor seemed to care for.

Upon the younger's shifting of tones Flintstorm turned to look at him with a narrowed gaze as keen ears picked up the strain in the rudy male's voice as he spoke. The fire within him seemingly to dim ever so slightly as he spoke. The innocent question of his whereabouts led to much more complex reaction than Flintstorm was expecting and They paused a moment to study the features of the kit; analyzing the response as best They could. seemingly reading between the lines.

"They don't want me there" - they find me annoying
"They give me looks and won't let me play with the other kits" - They fear me and do not understand me
"They think I'm dumb and careless, they think I am a mouse brain" -They do not care about me or my feelings because they won't give me a chance

It resounded within the warriors head as he pondered the other's words and realized the kit was probably as lonely as Flintstorm; something that made the uncomfortable feeling crawl over Their skin again. The pair were similar in the regard that understanding one another when it came to their peers was something they struggled with. It was a pity since Russetkit had so much potential with the energy he gave out to everything he did.

"They do not think you are a mouse brain. People do not understand sometimes; circumstances are overlooked sometimes and other times they are analyzed like a bug beneath the eye of a hawk; creating their own conclusions without thought of those they ridicule." dear Starclan was Flinstorm attempting to actually make this poor kit feel better? They felt the words come out more in the voice of Their sister rather than Themselves; leaving an odd taste on Their tongue.

"Perhaps, if the kits are not able to play...you could find an apprentice? I'm sure there are some who wouldn't mind some training help for the both of you." The warrior mused carefully as They glanced down at the kit.

"This is Flint speaking." And this is Flint thinking.

Galeclan Warrior

Abyss

WORD COUNT 891 | TAGS xvinn | NOTES So sorry for taking SO long to reply to this!

[xvinn]

russetkit (he/they) | galeclan

While Russetkit knew that Flintstorm was trying their best to impart their wisdom on him, there was still something that struck him oddly about the way they discussed losses and triumphs. Their ears flicked, not quite in annoyance, though they couldn't quite find the words to describe what it was that they were feeling about it. "What about my losses?" he finally brought up.

Sure, it was entirely possible that there was so much more to every cat around them that they did not know about, but it wasn't as though Russetkit had lived a simple, care-free life, either. It wasn't as though they were only born yesterday, having never faced a day of hardship or mourning, it wasn't as though they'd never experienced heartbreak (well, perhaps not of the romantic kind, but they had still experienced a love that they had since lost). Of course he was young, but that didn't mean that everything he had experienced was rainbows and sunshine, either. After all, the earthquake had brought a heavy devestation and killed more than half of his close family. He had lost his mother and both of his sisters, leaving him alone in his nursery nest that he had once shared with three others. His nest had once been cramped, being kicked by Tawnykit or feeling the heat radiating off of Honeykit in the middle of the night. Now, it was cold and empty, and while his sleep was now sound without his sisters waking him up, it made his heart feel just as lonely.

It made the hard feelings that Russetkit faced now even harder on most days. They used to have others to play with and run around with - playing with his sisters was always so fun. While he could easily overtake them with their brute strength, the sisters could easily outsmart and outwit Russetkit when they worked together (which they so often did). It had always made for a fun dynamic between the trio, trying to see if Russetkit could think a couple pawsteps ahead of his sisters for once and take them down by himself. But while they had brawn on their side, their sisters always had the brains. They were the tacticians, and Russetkit was the muscle. They would have been a powerful trio as warriors, able to protect LightningClan's most vulnerable. But now, LightningClan was gone. Honeykit and Tawnykit were gone. Embercloud was gone. All of them were gone and Russetkit had never felt more alone.

There was something in Flintstorm's words that made him feel almost undermined. He knew that the warrior probably didn't mean it that way, but it was easy to jump to conclusions when you were as young as the little ruddy kit.

"The apprentices are so much older than me, though," Russetkit pointed out, which was by and far a large truth. Murkpaw, Yewpaw and Canyonpaw were already apprentices by the time that Russetkit was even born. Even if he was nearly their size (and would likely be even bigger than Canyonpaw in no time, given that she was smaller than the rest of the apprentices), he felt looked down upon by them. They had never felt like they were seen as an equal, and presumed that even when they got their apprentice name, they would still feel like an outsider in the apprentice's den, joining the nests of cats who were so close to becoming warriors. In fact, Russetkit wouldn't even be surprised if they hardly even got to share nests for a single moon before they all became warriors, and they would once again be alone. It would likely take some time before any of the other kits became apprentices, after all.

Perhaps they were a mouse-brain, Russetkit began to think. After all, the apprentices were happy to play with the other kits, but seemed to have a harder time wanting to play with him. They had wanted to confide their feelings to Flintstorm, and while the kit appreciated the kind words, they couldn't help but feel rather downtrodden after finally opening up simply about their lonliness. "Do you think I'm mouse-brained?" Russetkit finally asked, not even really realizing that they had said their thoughts out loud, "After all ... you said yourself that I see things without truly understanding them, but I think I do understand better than others give me credit for!" he pointed out. He was now on his paws, having a bit of a hard time meeting Flintstorm's gaze, their tail flicking out behind them. "I know I'm young, but I've already lost so much! I lost my mom, I lost my sisters, my best friends. And now it feels like everyone around me is scared of me because they think I'm not worth talking to or playing with, even you don't seem to want to talk to me!"

Finally, he drew his gaze up to Flintstorm, unbelieving of the words that he had just uttered. "I thought you were someone I could talk to, Flintstorm ... but you just want me to go bother someone else," their voice calmed down as Russetkit sat once more, their tail awkwardly curling around their paws as they looked down again.

Fae Magic / flintstorm ● oop no worries about the wait because now russetkit is angsty and sad ● 868 words

[Fae Magic]

[googlefont="Cormorant"]

FLINTSTORM

The world was a tricky and often cruel place to live. Nothing is as easy as it's portrayed in words as it was for action so it's easy enough to people to mistake one thing for another when not given the chance to experience it. Perhaps Flintstorm did not take time enough to see things from the point of view of the younger clan mate. A fault only someone like Themselves would possess. Often gloomy and alone the tabby did not think that perhaps others even so young as Russetkit would and could endure more or as much as others larger and older than him. The question of 'what' he had lost gave the older feline pause. It did not come out as a way of confusion of truly not understanding what in his life he had lost but more of a question of 'what about' what he had lost because frankly, Russetkit had lost much in his young life. It is so easy to just brush aside the past of someone so young when a brand new life is open for exploration and a chance for a new beginning for them. It's so easy to just say to forget the past, to forget the old clan ways and life because it could never be returned and they had today and now; a brand new world, territory, and way of life that could be focused on. The simple question actually sent a shot of guilt straight to Flinstorm's gut because as They turned Their green eyes down to the other the warrior began to feel uncomfortable for a whole new reason.

To think back on life before the earthquake would bring heartache for many reasons for those of the clan. But not only that but it was a painful reminder of what was lost. The joining of clans with new faces and numbers within the clan could not replace those lost on either side before the join. They were still once upon a time living beings who had family and friends so familiar and loved. Flintstorm could be one hell of a cold cold soul sometimes because They do not like to think back on the past; They do not like the feelings thinking of such things bring. Perhaps it makes Them mechanical in a way that others don't understand how They could just brush it aside. But what is the meaning of life that one cannot look upon the past, the mistakes, the triumphs, and the choicest they make to lead them where they were? What was so wrong with wanting to remember even if it brings sadness in its wake? Flintstorm didn't like to remember, and because of that often implies others should do the same if only to save themselves from the heartbreak of what they have lost. It's what makes Flintstorm so unapproachable sometimes. But as the warrior listened to the other there was a light that burned within the green orbs of Theirs that could be mistaken for unshed emotions. The warrior swallowed; an audible clicking of Their throat muscles as they did so; feeling as if a rock was being shoved down.

"No, Russetkit," Flintstorm's voice was uncharacteristically soft as Their eyes took in the kit's features "You are not a mouse brain."

The tabby's ears fell back a little as did Their features as They turned to look up at the sky. "I am sorry, perhaps I misjudged your point of view." the silver feline confessed slowly

If They came to think about it Russetkit was not the only one who had lost something to the regards of his mother and sisters. when Flintstorm lost Embercloud many moons ago all because of stupid mistakes the possibilities that could have been Theirs were lost with her. Not to take away from the fact that Russetkit had in fact lost everything but his father was entirely familiar to Flintstorm. The warrior had more ties to the kit's family than the warrior cared to admit even if it was a single thread. Blinking down from the sky to allow the rusty-colored tom to once again fall into Their line of sight the warrior allowed a soft sigh to escape Their nose and Their posture to go lax; no longer distant within Their posture as They turned Their attention to the kit.

"You do have much potential Russetkit. More than even I perhaps see at first glance. It is easy to brush aside and push away others in favor of what we think is more important. Clans can be rebuilt. Homes can be rebuilt. Territories can be reclaimed. But we cannot replace those that we have lost." Flintstorm blinked slowly down at the kit and tilted Their head.

"I do not think I have openly spoken my condolences to you or your father for the losses you have endured...Your sisters were lively things and very smart; they would have made wonderful warriors someday alongside you...and your mother was a good one; I know she made other's lives a little brighter with her smile..." Starclan only knew Flintstorm was one of them. Even if the warrior refused to say it aloud; pride forbade Them from openly claiming their grief for not only the lost love They once shared but also the history the pair had together. Even after the pair had parted ways in that regard Flintstorm still watched from afar; her and her new mate but also as the kits grew as well.

Clearing the lump of emotion from Their throat Flintstorm decided perhaps it was time to help heal the tattered thread that They refused to fully sever. "I...am not one may wish to talk to, young one. For many reasons that you may not think are justifiable. I...I don't like to allow others to get close to me because I do not wish to be hurt. That is my own fault of character; one that my sister has often tried to teach me to change...I do not expect you to forgive any negative feelings or views I might have brought out in our interactions; it is not that I do not want to spend time with you it..." Flintstorm floundered for words looking as if they struggled with saying them aloud.

"After I lost your mother I swore I would not involve myself with that of hers...not because you or your sisters were something wrong...but because my selfish nature never stops whispering to me that you should have been mine." the feline snorted wryly at how utterly mad that sounded.

Did Russetkit know of the history behind Flintstorm and his mother? Had Embercloud told her children of Flintstorm? Had they known him in stories before ever meeting him or has Russetkit only laid eyes upon the silver feline when he's been snatched from certain death during the earthquake? Would the other be frightened of Them if they knew? Would he treat Them differently? Hate Flinstorm perhaps?

"This is Flint speaking." And this is Flint thinking.

Galeclan Warrior

Abyss

1,168 WC | TAGS xvinn | NOTES: Ooooh