[vellichor]

Originally Posted by RedHead

@Aurora Australis

A ginger-and-white feline paced in the clearing, her paws moving in a rhythmic beat as she traced and retraced her steps. She went a few paces in one direction, the whipped quickly around and went a few paces in the other direction. Her golden yellow eyes were focused on her paws as she walked, the bright orbs clouded with thought.
The molly was in quite a predicament with her life at the moment. After losing a lot of her family, some of them simply disappearing and others dying, she’d gone into a small state of depression. It wasn’t permanent, and she’d climbed out of it soon after, picking up her grief and continuing on with her life with her kits. But shortly after, she lost three of her kits, and though she never saw them die, she just supposed they were dead. She was only left with her son Flamespaw, of whom she’d grown super protective of. She didn’t want anything to happen to her remaining kit, and though he reminded her of what horrible things she’d been through, she loved him dearly, and he was one of the cats that kept her away from the brink of instantly.

Ambercrackle abruptly stopped in her pacing, realizing how stressed she must look. She didn’t want any other cats to think she was weak, no. She wanted them to know she was strong, and that she could handle what she was going through. And stress, to her, was a sign of weakness.
Forcing her rump onto the ground, Ambercrackle flicked her ginger ears, letting her gaze roll across the clearing. She saw cats, and birds, trees, and other things, but none of this she really took in. She was more staring off into the distance, her wild thoughts churning themselves around in her mind as she desperately tried to get ahold of them.

He entered proudly into the clearing, his jaws clasped around a grouse. It’s wings dragged on the ground, threatening to trip the tom, but he held his head high. Mostly because that refuced the risk of falling onto his tail and being laughed at, but it doubled as pride. He swiftly dropped it onto the fresh-kill pile, making sure it wasn’t too mangled. The thing he was proudest of was that it was a solo hunting trip. Well, he had gone into the forest to let out some of his doubts when he had happened upon the grouse, it’s leg trapped in a rare clump of brambles. Feathers were everywhere. It would be an easy kill; or so he thought. As he ran up to it, the grouse freed itself from the brambles and attempted to fly away. He had to pounce on it with a leap worthy of a SkyClan warrior. He landed square on its back. It’s wings almost slapping his face as he pinned it to the ground. He finally killed it with a swift bite to the neck. He did have to spit some feathers out of his mouth, though.

Windygale soiled as he recalled the swift kill. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. A blurred figure in his peripheral vision was pacing back and forth. He quickly turned his amber gaze to look at the feline, a she-cat, who sat down as soon as he turned his face toward her. He decided to approach her, ask her if she was okay. After all, she was his Clanmate, and he was the deputy. It was partially his job to make sure everyone was alright.

“Hey, I’m Windygale,” He smiled, dipping his head as he approached. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”