[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by AbsurdJinx

Featherpaw fought to balance her shaky breaths, her gaze locked on the ground before her as she struggled to focus. She was genuinely grateful for Grousestar's company, although there was that ounce of irritation in her in which she felt for him. Shut up! But as quickly as it had grown, her frustration with him disappeared - which was quick. It was replaced with self-pity and sadness. He doesn't know. He doesn't care. Why's he trying? He isn't even trying. He just wants you to stop because you're annoying. She continued to convince herself that he truly didn't care. He wants to get this session over with. Then he won't have to be with me. I can understand that, though... I mean, why do I have to be me? Her breaths quickened, and she shuffled her paws as if preparing to run away - but she didn't. She was afraid of moving, for a reason she did not know.

While Grousestar continued to talk about the bird within the trees, Featherpaw's breathing was becoming stable. However, her breaths remained slightly labored as if lacking the energy to breathe properly. Her chest would rise and fall in a shaky motion, and her entire body trembled. She took a risk, barely raising her chin to stare at the blackbird. From the corner of her eye, she could see Grousestar staring at the bird as well. But unlike her, he had a kit-like fascination with the bird - she found him and his reaction with the bird to be absolutely adorable. Featherpaw studied the black-feathered prey, wondering what was so amazing about it. Luckily, the bird became a distraction, and her anxiety was forgotten.

She could feel the tomcat's tail brushing against her side in a soothing rhythm, offering her warmth and comfort in which she appreciated. Featherpaw exhaled heavily, blinking at the animal of flight. It wasn't completely black, a few flecks in it's feathers being shades of gray. It's eyes were round, and and a yellow-orange - frightening, actually. It's pointed peak matched the color of it's eyes. However, it was a gorgeous animal. Her gaze fluttered to it's wings, tucked to it's side. Her jaw dropped slightly as she began to understand Grousestar's feelings towards the bird. She imagined it's wings spreading, the feathers twitching as it did so. It would launch itself off the ground, producing a pathetic excuse for a cloud of dust as it's feet left the ground. The wings would be a blur as they swung up and down, gaining height. Reaching towards the sky, flying away from all it's troubles. It would be free.

``I - I want to be a bird. I want to fly away from all my troubles. Far, far away from here,`` Featherpaw murmured in response, her eyes wide in fascination as she imagined herself as a bird, flying away from here. Hope and joy sparkled in her eyes as if her thoughts had become reality. A weak smile was on her face, and her whiskers would twitch whenever her smile faltered. Bird. I want to be a bird.

{Jeez I am so sorry about how late this reply is x.x"}

As patient as ever, the tom, after speaking to her, remained quiet knowing that sometimes things simply needed to sort themselves out, she needed to be the one to tell her mind to calm down because it wouldn't matter what he said, in the end it was her who had to be the one to calm herself back down. Grousestar could only help but so much, but he would most certainly try his best to help as much as he could. The tom couldn't imagine the whirlwind of fear that was going on in her mind right now, but he knew it couldn't be good, he couldn't imagine the thoughts that were there in her mind, be he guessed that they could be ones of frustration, or of denial, ones that berated herself. He could talk all he wanted, but again, in the end, it would have to be her who stops these thoughts.

With his attention focused on the bird, he swiveled his left ear just slightly, noticing that her breaths were starting to become more stable, hoping that this was a sign that she was beating her mental demons, that she was overcoming this small breakdown, knowing that she was a strong cat, that she just didn't know it yet. But meanwhile, he spoke about the bird, allowing himself to become nearly entranced by it, fascinated by it and truly admiring it just like he always did. He wished that he could be as graceful, as elegant as that bird, to have the wisdom of it that only a bird could have. Many cats didn't like to think of them as anything but prey, but he saw them as fragile messengers that spoke and flew with the wind, telling warnings of rain, of danger, of anything going on in the forest with their own language that in its own were songs.

As the sunlight hit the black part of the birds feathers, a beautiful, glossy purple seemed to reflect the light back, making the creature even more beautiful in the leaders eyes, causing his smile to brighten considerably as the creature cawed out in it's strange language. Everything about that bird, everything, was beautiful to Grousestar. The way it moved, the colors, the way the light flooded over it's glossy feathers to give it a touch of new color, the way it's beaks and eyes set it apart from it's otherwise black body and even the way it spoke. It wasn't like the song of other birds, it was solely unique to that single species, the small series of chirps, the four whistles that increased in pitch in the last two whistles and the way the calls seemed to fill the forest after just one lets out a single chirp. The entire thing was amazing to him and he found it a shame that not everyone could truly admire the beautify of this bird, or any bird in general.
The blackbird turned on the branch, calling out into the forest, it's wings opening as if it thought about taking off before folding back to it's side and the bird turning back around on the branch, cocking it's head at the two cats in the training grounds.

Grousestar's ears swiveled as he heard Featherpaw speak up, his head turning slightly and his gentle green eyes focusing on her, allowing her to finish before turning his gaze back up to the bird.
"I once wanted to be a bird too. So that I could fly wherever I wanted, as free as ever, and speak in song, warning others of danger." And sometimes, the brown tabby still thought about his naive desire to be a bird, fond memories of his kithood, imagining that he was a raven and making silly chirping sounds as he raced around his mother, pretending that was flying and warning other birds of a cat in the forest. The thought brought a fond smile to his muzzle, his whiskers quivering a bit as he recollected the memory.