Learning to Walk [Tagged] Jun 25, 2020 20:21:53 GMT -6
Post by moony on Jun 25, 2020 20:21:53 GMT -6
Song-birds filled the air with their music. Sun filtered through the pines, dappling the ground with golden summer light. It was comfortable in the shade, the cool shadows provided the perfect reprieve from the sweltering sun. While the air near the bog was muggy and thick, away from the swampy marsh and near the gurgling stream of fresh water the air was cool, breathable, refreshing. The twinkling of water running against rocks provided a back-track to the bird song. It was a perfect summer day.
As long as it was taken at face value, that is. A menacing undertone simmered under the surface of the peaceful forest. Threats of rogues, outsiders, and even other Clan cats trespassing on ThistleClan soil threatened to tip the balance of the scales and turn the picturesque forest into a zone of battle and terror. Mistflower tried to contain her anxiety. Today was not a day for worries. It was a day to spend with her siblings.
The three light pelted siblings trekked through the pine forest towards the sandy creek. Mistflower, injured from a rogue attack over a moon ago, had strained her injury further. The stocky bat-eared medicine cat, Ratwhisker, had prescribed her water therapy. It will strengthen your muscles, and the water will lessen the strain on the leg. So, diligently, after Ratwhisker attended her for the first couple of times, Mistflower had taken to the task of swimming. It became her escape from the worries of day-to-day life in the camp, and the trials of recent events.
Mistflower set the pace as her older brother and sister followed beside her. Cloudstep and Lilypad had been consumed with their own duties, and so it had been difficult for them to spend time together. When Mistflower had been a kit her siblings had always been there to support her. In many ways Lilypad was more like a mother to Mistflower than a sister (sometimes Mistflower found this smothering, but she would never say so to Lilypad, she cared to much to risk hurting the gray and white she-cat's feelings). Cloudstep had seemed even more distant that normal lately. Mistflower admired her brother, almost to a fault. To her he exemplified what a ThistleClan warrior should be. But ever since Mistflower had been named a warrior, she had spent less time with him than she had expected.
That didn't matter now. Now they were together again, and while their sibling dynamics were changing (Mistflower was a warrior, now, after all), they were learning that relationships, even familial ones, take effort to cultivate. That is what brought them together that day. Just as Mistflower had learned to walk again after her injury, they were learning to walk again as siblings.
"Ratwhisker was right," Mistflower observed to her siblings as they drew closer to the creek "Swimming has really helped my injury." She still had a slight limp, and Ratwhisker warned that it might never fully go away. But Mistflower wasn't faltered by that idea. I can still be a warrior even with this limp.