the lies we are told || tagged Dec 8, 2019 19:04:57 GMT -6
Post by wish on Dec 8, 2019 19:04:57 GMT -6
The sun threatened to burn into the lake and melt the ice until the island succumbed to its eternal rest beneath the waves. Lavenderpaw watched from within the recesses of the main cave as the red orb sank beneath the horizon and darkness enveloped the land. Her ear flicked toward a sudden sound, the usual clan noises, and then it redirected back toward the lake. She almost wished that the waters would raise, raise until the lake swallowed Lichenclan whole. It was almost easier. Outside, the island rested under a thick blanket of snow and another snowstorm threatened in the distance. This was her first winter on the island and already she searched for the sun and its familiar warmth.
Another sound stole her attention for a second. Minnowstar. The diluted calico watched from afar as the disheveled she-cat barked some orders to two warriors near the cave entrance and then vanished into her secluded den without another sound. Her stomach twisted. The leaders in her clan made her sick, and when she listened to the same senseless droll, the same blood lust that bled from the mouths within this cave, her sickness stretched from within her chest to her toes. Her late mother would not stand for the Lichenclan that existed under their rule. Her mind then flitted to the tunnels that snaked beneath the island. Find the truth...Her words echoed like a heartthrob in her ears, and then Lavenderpaw knew she had to return to them. She had to search for the truth.
With one last careful observation, the she-cat sucked back into the shadows and maneuvered silently toward the abandoned nursery. It had been moons since a litter had been born in Lichenclan, and due to this, the small cave was dusted with cobwebs and the stank with the scent of musk. The calico she-cat scrunched her nose at the smell but continued nonetheless. She stuck close to the cave wall, so her lithe form was shadowed in the darkness. Then as if on instinct, she slunk into the hole in the bramble wall and allowed the tunnels to consume her entirely.
The darkness surrounded her entire field of vision. Only the scent of water and the endless memories of her mother drew her onward. Littlestream, her late mother, used to sneak her kits out into the caves and tell them stories about the old Lichenclan, the Lichenclan that used to exit before Heronstar took rule. These were stories that she had heard from her mother and so on; and when both Lavenderpaw and her sister were three moons old, Littlestream told them the truth. Starclan loved all clans. Redwoodclan does not deserve to die. Minnowstar is evil. Her sister refused to believe their mother, but Lavenderpaw knew what she said had merit. It was the truth.
When her mother died, she had told them to not listen to them, to take their words and throw them out and Lavenderpaw did. She not believe a word out of her leader's mouth. Minnowstar lied. Hemlockheart lied. As the diluted calico continued to travel downward, the darkness waned and ahead the moon shimmered through the cracks in the cave. The she-cat slowed and considered her next move. A dozen or so holes stretched into the distance, and whichever one she chose would decide her fate. With a definitive nod, she selected one that would lead her toward Thistleclan.
She did not know where the tunnel ended, but she did know that it was somehow safer in the coniferous forest than it was on the shore. That much was true. As the she-cat entered the second tunnel, she allowed the darkness to swallow her a second time. The calico relied on her whiskers and nose to lead her beneath the island and far from her clan. She did not know what the truth looked like or what she would find, but Lavenderpaw was determined to make some sort of discovery that night. Whatever that looked like...Then a sudden familiar but unfamiliar scent filled her mouth.
The calico halted in her tracks. It was another cat, and whoever it was they were not from Lichenclan. She nervously swallowed, her body at once stricken with fear. While she had become a bit braver since her skirmish at the border, and the lessons she learned from Sandbriar had made her more confident, the she-cat was still far more timid than heroic. The fur over her back bristled as Lavenderpaw inched hesitantly toward the scent. While she was terrified, she also did not want to return her clan. With another swallow, she continued to move beneath the island until the tunnel broke into another cave.This one was also illuminated under the moon, and beneath a moonbeam, sat the owner of the scent.
A thin Thistleclan tom with white fur and honey-colored eyes.
wc 802 | maxx