one last shot at redemption [featherpaw, lionstar] Jun 9, 2013 22:25:27 GMT -5
Post by Phoenix on Jun 9, 2013 22:25:27 GMT -5
If there was one thing he admired about TreeClan, it was their resiliency, and the recent inferno had proven to him that his clan was very resilient. So soon after the blaze, and already most of their camp had been rebuilt, extra warriors were remarking the borders, and the apprentices were being sent out to train once more. This quality instilled a deep sense of pride in the young tom, and though he would have been far more content had part of their territory not been reduced to ashes, Wormpaw had a habit of looking at the silver lining. Out of the devastation came stronger bonds formed between clan mates, and memories of the way everyone, surrounded by smoke and dancing flames, had pulled together and united to survive warmed his heart.
A small smile touched his lips as he pointedly avoided thinking about those who had perished. He had done what he could to help and offered condolences, despite being deeply shaken by the experience himself. Though he had managed to escape relatively unscathed – sparks and flames haunted his dreams – his mentor, and TreeClan’s leader, had not. Yellow-green eyes glanced up at the large, golden tom padding alongside the smaller figure. Thick furred and powerful, Lionstar seemed invincible.
But the leader also confused him, and Wormpaw had a hard time sorting through his conflicting emotions about said tom. He had not forgotten that incident with Grayowl, which had done considerable damage to his opinion of their leader. In addition, Lionstar’s decision to take on a second apprentice had bothered him to no end, particularly after he had seen Featherpaw’s reaction at the ceremony. Knowing that his siblings had wanted the privilege, the small tabby had never considered becoming the leader’s apprentice. The guilt of taking the coveted position from his brothers and the knowledge that he was not nearly as grateful for it as he probably should have been churned in his gut. Perhaps it was one-sided, but Wormpaw did not enjoy conversing with Wavepaw and Wildpaw as much as he had before. He also avoided Featherpaw whenever possible, not even wanting to remind the she-cat of her mentor’s betrayal. The whole apprenticeship left a sour taste in his mouth.
That was not to say that Lionstar was a bad teacher. Wormpaw thought it nice that he took time out of his numerous responsibilities to train an apprentice when it would be just as easy to hand the duty over to another warrior. His gaze flicked up to the tom once more as they passed through the entrance to camp. A sudden pattering of paw steps caught his attention, breaking the silence that had fallen in the lack of conversation, and the tabby paused, body mostly obscured by Lionstar’s larger form and the shadows falling across the forest. Heart sinking, he recognized the silvery pelt of Featherpaw as the she-cat raced toward the pair. Guilt flooded him and he shrank away, hoping desperately that she would race past, that she had not come to talk to her mentor. Please don’t see me.