nothing [thievingstar] Nov 7, 2019 1:56:28 GMT -6
Post by rain on Nov 7, 2019 1:56:28 GMT -6
Nightclaw was sitting solemnly by the river, sitting more patiently and still than he probably had his entire life, even in sleep. His eyes were glued to the calm waters, and the silver flash of a fish caught his eye. Not even instinct took over though as he followed his ignorant friend with his gaze. And with a few curious stops it was gone. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered anymore. Hell, he had to sneak out of his own camp just to snag some time alone. His last attempt at storming out of camp to clear his head led to Hemlockheart calling him out on his punishment as becoming his apprentice and as an apprentice, he was confined to camp without a warrior. But he was smarter than an apprentice. It took no time at all with compliments to his dark pelt that he slipped out of his prison, and now he was here. Nightclaw wasn't sure he felt any better.
But...something about the water put him in a state of mind he wasn't familiar with. Almost a meditative mindset. It was as if all his emotions and thoughts were drowning in those depths. It was as if he had used so much emotion, thought so much, that he ran out of fuel for both, and he was just simply dumping out the remains. And as the water ran, his body would further develop into a statue, his eyes clouding up in disinterest in the world.
Maybe it was motivation that was leaving his body. Maybe he was losing interest in fighting anymore. Maybe he was just sick of living in this Clan, and the thought of leaving these traditions forever allured him. Maybe that's why he was here. Maybe he should just turn around and live in rogue territory and let loneliness consume him. His love of his Clan, his loyalty, his pride, that was what solidified him here. But now that it was all gone, all that he was left with was complete isolation. He had always been alone, but now he was just an enemy. An enemy to his own blood.
Nightclaw closed his eyes tightly, frustrated with his own thoughts. Nightclaw wasn't the type to give up like this, but this nightmare was tearing down all his walls. Maybe that's what Hemlockheart wanted, was to weaken Nightclaw like this until he would either break down and become a zombie, or leave the Clan altogether and never see them again. The familiar flow of anger coursed through his veins, the thought of his current depression being caused by the cat he hated the most. What a selfish prick. The deputy might as well be deprogramming Nightclaw's personality and dreams out of him all so he could be their obedient little puppet. What a way to play with a cat's life.
His nose must have been snuffed out by his intense internal reflection, because it was sound that broke through his concentration. The sound of paw steps. Nightclaw's first instinct was one of his own collecting him after noticing his absence, but his nose kicked back in action and the overwhelming scent of pines would calm his nerves. Although a confrontation was definitely the last thing he needed right now. "Whoever is there, don't bother. I'm on my side of the border." There wasn't the usual sass that poisoned his voice. It was sassy word wise, of course. But Nightclaw lacked the energy to fight. Or do anything, honestly. He just wanted to continue being a corpse bonded by the river.
592 | Bandit
☆ WISH ☆