The feathery tom entered the den wispily. He hung his head low and let his tail dredge beside his hind paws. He was only able to briefly look at the ground, which caused his shoulders to sag. His fur was only slightly tainted by the blood of his apprentice and kin, and he pondered how much more blood would be shed. To continuously stain his coat like crimson flowers in full bloom. His tear-filled eye bags were red as he reluctantly raised his head. He had clearly been grieving for almost a week. He was constantly in seclusion, contemplating ignoring his responsibilities. Or his heart was shattering from such intense shame. Cracking, but despite all the pain he was experiencing, it kept beating. He was in terrible pain all around. And now, what more? Starclan is undoubtedly pulling practical jokes on him. How can those haughty,
'hard-working' code devotees have the audacity to harm him in this way. Too much blood had been spilled, and it appeared that time was moving more quickly than usual. Like how many lunar cycles had passed, his life was flashing before his eyes.
As his gaze sunk into Sparrowstar's soul, his eyes were stone blank. He attempted to address his leader by opening his maw, but it hung open and he could hardly get any words out. It appeared as though his vocal cords were entirely torn. He was practically choking on the dryness of his already-dry tongue. His eyes were erratic. Everything felt so surreal because it kept going on and on. Attempting to choke out words, he nearly tumbled. He was feeling tongue-tied because something was preventing him from saying what he wanted to say. His voice trembled as he struggled to get out a few barely audible syllables as his pulse rate reached its peak.
"He's dead, he's dead. ." He sank to the floor, kneading his eyes as if trying to smash his insides. His eyes began to well with tears, leaving a salty stain on his paws and cheeks. He was trembling.
Cowering like a dog in front of Sparrowstar, his leader. The dried blood on his pelt trembled wildly along with his body. Too soon, too quickly.
Was he ever qualified to serve as a deputy, given the way he trembled? Was it the reason Rainpaw skipped on congratulating him altogether? Maybe his son was correct. He was failing as a deputy, but perhaps in the perspective of his clanmates, he was a brilliant deputy. He merely felt as though he was carrying out his obligations to support Sparrowstar. Undoubtedly, it is what a deputy does.
Just assisting, that's all.
[ @
Jayvines ]