Quote:
Originally Posted by Duststorm
Fur glistening in the moonlight, the starclan warrior positioned herself on the far edge of the meadow, grass rising above her paws as she quietly observed the group in the clearing. Her head was dipped ever so slightly as to show respect to the medicine cat receiving their name. Slatepelt adverted her gaze, letting it travel slowly back and forth before it rested on Shinefang. A faint jab of pain struck her heart, remembering their last conversation, but she quickly pushed the thought away and rose to her paws, making her way gracefully over to the skyclan medicine cat.
Her translucent form slipped beside him, her paw steps quiet and the lush foliage unmoved as she sat down. Her tail flickered back and forth before curling completely around her front two paws. Holding her head high and puffing her chest out, Slatepelt turned her attention back to the current ceremony. |
(You can go ahead and have Slate ignore Daypaw. I only mentioned @
woly and @
AbsurdJinx for stalking purposes. Shine would have just lost his first patient by the time this is taking place btw.)
Was it possible for the shecat sitting before him to grow more beautiful each time he saw her? The golden-furred tom looked at his long dead mate with a steady gaze. The last time they had spoken, he had declared that he would use his position to stop cats from going to Starclan by preventing them from dying. Then an apprentice with a bad bump on his head had fallen asleep in his medicine den only to never wake up. Shinefang bore a cold anger, the anger of cat losing a game with high stakes. He knew he couldn't actually make good on his threat. Cats died. That was the way of things. But why did Starclan have to keep taking? "Slatepelt," he said in greeting. His tone was cold. He wasn't as angry as he had been. She said she had fought as hard as she could, and though he still felt she could have fought harder, his mate had never lied to him before. Then again, could he even trust his mate now? She was one of them. His anger clawed at him from within, demanding he lash out, but a stillness had him that was sad and left him feeling... so tired. "I lost Acornpaw," he said simply. She knew what he was talking about, he was sure. That's what Starclan did, wasn't it? watched? "I came to see if Starclan would accept me as the medicine cat." Shinefang didn't need to add that he was only seeking Starclan's approval because he believed in tradition. His opinion of them was the same. All the while as he spoke to her, the memories of how awful he'd been tormented him. But he couldn't apologize for what was true. "I'm not the same cat anymore, Slate. I'm sorry." He couldn't be as angry with her anymore. She had died that day, but the tom she had loved had died with her. Starclan had made corpses of them both. The only difference was that his could still breath.