// @
spade [No worries!] | @A Wierdo [Apologies for Raven's attitude.]
Ravenpaw smiled at the remark.
"Yes, I suppose that's true... but I've learned my lesson. I won't be falling again." It would be an insult to her heritage, after all, for a skyrunner to fail in their natural habitat. Leafbare or not, they belonged in the trees, in the sky and the air. Luckily, she'd grown accustomed to the dense woods and flowing water sooner than later. Her mother... had not been proud.
And then Snowmask approached, and that reaction happened.
Before Cricketpaw had the chance to speak up, Ravenpaw cast a cool glare at the newcomer—Snowmask. But she'd messed something up with her story, and that would cost her any trust she might've been able to attain in the future.
"You lie," the black-furred molly pointed put softly, coldly.
"You say that you perished during the original raid against the shadows—I died long before you; you could not have watched me if I left the earth before you ever stepped into the stars."
And Cricketpaw died long before either of them. In that regard, the youngest of the three mollies was actually the oldest whereas the oldest, the only warrior, was actually the youngest. Thus, Snowmask had no power over any of them. Ravenpaw had no need to treat her fakely due to rank; give her a day and she would've been a warrior, too. As for Cricketpaw, her status as a medicine cat apprentice meant that she outranked them both.
Speaking of the former healer… Ravenpaw forced herself to relax at the touch of the tail. Frankly, she wasn't even sure why her fur was so ruffled around Snowmask. In theory, the windrunner had done nothing wrong. Though, the feline's penchant for assumptions certainly didn't help much. Ravenpaw rarely acted so… rude towards others. In fact, never had she spoken back until she ascended into the stars.
It was the stress, she bet. Before, the molly had no care in the world. She'd done what she wanted when she wanted, followed any orders given but still managed to find time to herself. Up here… the past haunted her. Ravenpaw's once companions haunted her, and they were still alive. It should be
her bothering
them, not… whatever this was! She hadn't found solace or peace in this supposed paradise. To her, it was an eternal prison.
The black-furred feline kept her maw shut and let Cricketpaw do the talking this time. Guardians knew that Ravenpaw opening her maw again would only make the situation worse.