Post by watersong on Nov 7, 2018 21:36:32 GMT
Grief was never an easy thing to face.
It wasn't the kind of loss one could overcome in a day, or even a year. It wasn't like letting a piece of prey slip from your paws, and the disappointment and loss of the following empty belly. It wasn't like saying goodbye to a friend of another Clan at the Gathering, one you may not see again until you stood on the battlefield.
It was knowing that a very foundation of your life, one of the very things upon which you stood, slipped away and left you crashing down. It was when a part of your life suddenly caved in and cracked all the walls with the blow. It was knowing that no matter how many builders you contracted to fix it, it would never be the same again afterwards. It would always be different no matter what you did to try and bring the past back.
Watersong had never known their mother nor their siblings, but they'd always felt like something was missing. They'd always had their ears perked to listen for a gentle lullaby that the Queen they thought their mother to be had never once sang. There had always been an odd feeling of confusion and not understanding.
But they'd thought it normal. They'd thought 'oh, everyone must feel like this.'
Up until they were brought aside when they were old enough, and told the truth.
Then it all made sense, and they understood why they always listened for a gentle voice that would never sing again.
But it hadn't been quite the same as what they knew another faced.
They had been missing this key piece of their life's foundation all their life. They had grown up knowing how to live with it.
But their apprentice had known his sister. Had lived with her, laughed with her, loved her.
And now she was gone.
That kind of loss wasn't something they had faced. Their family had been gone all their life.
But they had watched as the young tom fell further and further into an all-encompassing sorrow, and watched as others, no matter how hard they tried, couldn't seem to pull him back up.
Their own apprenticeship had been formal. They had been taught what they needed to know, and their former mentor was but another clanmate, now. There had been little bond other than a mutual one of training and teaching. Teacher and student, mentor and apprentice, little more, little less. They held each other at a distance.
But Russetpaw was already holding the world at a distance, as if he wanted to leave it behind.
Maybe they weren't the same. Maybe the losses they had dealt with were different, but that was alright, no cat could ever be the same as another. They never would be.
But as Watersong stood in the camp, tail tip twitching contemplatively, they gave a slight nod of the head as if to confirm their decision. White and grey paws padded over towards the freshkill pile, nosing through it for a decent catch. Someone had managed to snag a perch, and it was assuredly big enough for two cats to share.
In their rooting, the poor cat accidentally knocked a few of the other fish down, and they had to spend a quick few moments trying to shuffle the pile back in order and hoping no one saw that. Picking up the perch again and decidedly ignoring the slight heat in their face, pale eyes searched the camp for a brilliant red, intent on a meal with their apprentice, and not letting him slip further away from this world, as if he wanted to follow his sister to the stars.