Post by Fawn on Dec 25, 2018 20:43:11 GMT -5
Whoaaa totally forgot about this for the entire month. >_> Oops.
Harestrike
"Family"Snow had finally touched the valley. It powdered the moorlands in a soft layer of white, threatening to thicken as the day stretched into evening. Harestrike's coat, already feathery in certain places, had grown dense and warm over the past half-season. He returned, triumphant, with a plump young hare clutched in his jaws. Expecting a greeting, Harestrike draped the corpse over the meager pile, grass-green eyes alight and looking for any approaching cats.
Well? Anyone? He would've even settled for his mother's warped approval. Instead, he only heard the low whistle of the wind, cats going about their business or hunkering in to keep warm. The soft mews of a fussy she-cat pricked Harestrike's ears forward - Dovecloud? Had to be - but when he turned toward the sound, it was someone else entirely.
Cloudyfeather was gingerly dragging over the rabbit he had just caught, her mien gentle and full of warmth as she ushered her kits - far too big for the nursery - closer to her. Sleetpaw and Windpaw had joined her, along with Cloudyfeather's sister Galestorm, and her brother Sunnyheart. With the exception of Gustclaw, and that skinny loner that had left the Clan moons ago, the whole family was here.
Something about the sight of it made Harestrike's stomach tighten, as if he'd been kicked just between the ribs.
It wasn't that Cloudyfeather hadn't thanked him for the fresh kill; that wasn't what bothered him.
"Aren't you going to join us?" Cloudyfeather's purr was as delicate as a dove's wing. Harestrike's heart slowed with disbelief. "I--"
But then a large ginger tom slipped past him. Blazefeather. One of three kits Cloudyfeather had adopted before her own brood had arrived.
Harestrike's expression soured, and he rolled his eyes at his own idiotic assumption. They were all a Clan - but they weren't all family. Hard truth, but truth nonetheless. Just about everyone had somebody. His own mate's family was so huge, he suspected they took up half the Clan just with their bloodline alone.
And what did he have?
"Get out of the way, harebrain!" Eaglescreech brushed past him with a clash of shoulders and arrogance, even stepping on Harestrike's paw as he cut in front of him.
Harestrike growled, about to spit an insult back at his obnoxious little brother - but something made him stop.
"Eaglescreech. Hey, I'm talking to you."
The tabby and white warrior, blue eyes as crisp and unkind as their late mother's, turned. Eaglescreech spit out the vole he'd been carrying. "What do you want?"
"Do you want to share prey?" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Harestrike regretted them. Eaglescreech let out a harsh laugh, like a trodden mouse with a sore throat.
"With you? Dovecloud finally dump you or something? Sorry brother," Eaglescreech retrieved his vole. "I have better things to do."
Harestrike didn't offer a retort. He had to care enough to come up with something equally as cutting; he cared more about defending himself with teeth and claws than some witticism. Not that Eaglescreech was particularly clever. Obviously shredding his stupid little brother's ears was going to get him more trouble than he needed, so Harestrike let him go, feeling his mood blacken and smoke like a wildfire burning itself out.
He couldn't remember a time when Eaglescreech had ever been a nice cat. Dawnflight was a little less spiteful and full of herself, or at least made less of a show of it.
Then there was Larkfeather, who might as well have been a ghost for how much she amounted to anything. Thrushwhisker, his littermate - the only one he'd felt any real sense of kinship for - had been buried last greenleaf.
As the cats of LightningClan went on about their lives, and Cloudyfeather's assorted brood and kin enjoyed the plump rabbit, Harestrike was hit with an overwhelming sense of... loneliness.
Whatever. Harestrike, despite his paws feeling chilled from his last hunting excursion, set himself moving back out onto the moorlands. Family's for other cats, not me. He was never going to have those warm and cozy memories. He hadn't cared before, so why did he care now?
Maybe he was just now starting to realize how much he'd missed out on. How much his mother had deprived him of a happy, healthy family life. Even now, it was still 'me versus them' when it came to his siblings. He measured himself based on his accomplishments compared to theirs. But what if he didn't have to? What if there were more important things to worry about? Like the love of a mate and the fulfillment a family, a proper family provided?
Harestrike's throat tightened.
It didn't matter.
Family was for other cats. Not him.
Well? Anyone? He would've even settled for his mother's warped approval. Instead, he only heard the low whistle of the wind, cats going about their business or hunkering in to keep warm. The soft mews of a fussy she-cat pricked Harestrike's ears forward - Dovecloud? Had to be - but when he turned toward the sound, it was someone else entirely.
Cloudyfeather was gingerly dragging over the rabbit he had just caught, her mien gentle and full of warmth as she ushered her kits - far too big for the nursery - closer to her. Sleetpaw and Windpaw had joined her, along with Cloudyfeather's sister Galestorm, and her brother Sunnyheart. With the exception of Gustclaw, and that skinny loner that had left the Clan moons ago, the whole family was here.
Something about the sight of it made Harestrike's stomach tighten, as if he'd been kicked just between the ribs.
It wasn't that Cloudyfeather hadn't thanked him for the fresh kill; that wasn't what bothered him.
"Aren't you going to join us?" Cloudyfeather's purr was as delicate as a dove's wing. Harestrike's heart slowed with disbelief. "I--"
But then a large ginger tom slipped past him. Blazefeather. One of three kits Cloudyfeather had adopted before her own brood had arrived.
Harestrike's expression soured, and he rolled his eyes at his own idiotic assumption. They were all a Clan - but they weren't all family. Hard truth, but truth nonetheless. Just about everyone had somebody. His own mate's family was so huge, he suspected they took up half the Clan just with their bloodline alone.
And what did he have?
"Get out of the way, harebrain!" Eaglescreech brushed past him with a clash of shoulders and arrogance, even stepping on Harestrike's paw as he cut in front of him.
Harestrike growled, about to spit an insult back at his obnoxious little brother - but something made him stop.
"Eaglescreech. Hey, I'm talking to you."
The tabby and white warrior, blue eyes as crisp and unkind as their late mother's, turned. Eaglescreech spit out the vole he'd been carrying. "What do you want?"
"Do you want to share prey?" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Harestrike regretted them. Eaglescreech let out a harsh laugh, like a trodden mouse with a sore throat.
"With you? Dovecloud finally dump you or something? Sorry brother," Eaglescreech retrieved his vole. "I have better things to do."
Harestrike didn't offer a retort. He had to care enough to come up with something equally as cutting; he cared more about defending himself with teeth and claws than some witticism. Not that Eaglescreech was particularly clever. Obviously shredding his stupid little brother's ears was going to get him more trouble than he needed, so Harestrike let him go, feeling his mood blacken and smoke like a wildfire burning itself out.
He couldn't remember a time when Eaglescreech had ever been a nice cat. Dawnflight was a little less spiteful and full of herself, or at least made less of a show of it.
Then there was Larkfeather, who might as well have been a ghost for how much she amounted to anything. Thrushwhisker, his littermate - the only one he'd felt any real sense of kinship for - had been buried last greenleaf.
As the cats of LightningClan went on about their lives, and Cloudyfeather's assorted brood and kin enjoyed the plump rabbit, Harestrike was hit with an overwhelming sense of... loneliness.
Whatever. Harestrike, despite his paws feeling chilled from his last hunting excursion, set himself moving back out onto the moorlands. Family's for other cats, not me. He was never going to have those warm and cozy memories. He hadn't cared before, so why did he care now?
Maybe he was just now starting to realize how much he'd missed out on. How much his mother had deprived him of a happy, healthy family life. Even now, it was still 'me versus them' when it came to his siblings. He measured himself based on his accomplishments compared to theirs. But what if he didn't have to? What if there were more important things to worry about? Like the love of a mate and the fulfillment a family, a proper family provided?
Harestrike's throat tightened.
It didn't matter.
Family was for other cats. Not him.
785 Words || Leafbare #6, Day 8 || 46 Moons || Prompt #25