thistle & weeds [open]

The camp had been calm that morning, full of waking cats going about their duties and the last few late-risers being shaken in to awareness by fellow warriors or grumbling mentors. He was confident everyone was safe as he had padded out of the camp, nudging a few guards in the shoulder and telling them he’d return soon. It made Willowblaze’s heart swell to see them prosper even if what had been given to them was so much less than what they once had. His hackles raised slightly at the thought, tail lashing as he slunk through the flowers that reached to the sky.

It made his skin crawl, knowing the cats he adored and worked for and was sworn to protect were boxed in to a smaller area, losing that which had been theirs by the decree of the stars. Like Ruststar, he ached to take back was theirs, and Willowblaze’s crushed one of the long stalks of lavender beneath his paws. “It’s a little bit of a problem.” He admitted to the smashed purple plant beneath his feet. “Just a bit, though. And we’re awfully good at solving problems, aren’t we?”

The deputy’s whiskers twitched. It wouldn’t be terribly difficult to push Skyclan out- they were still weak, and they had few allies among the clans. But Windclan wasn’t exactly the most beloved, and Willowblaze was sure their other enemies would move in after the battle, claiming they were looking for vengeance for the newest clan. Not to mention their claim that Starclan themselves had sent them to this place.

His paws stuttered at that thought. It made things much more difficult, if their ancestors had meant for the other clan to come here. Bending the rules of the warrior code in desperate, strange times was one thing- disobeying a direct decree from the dead who watched over them and guided their steps was another thing entirely. Still, leafbare was hard in the hills and fields, with tree cover sparse and their most plentiful prey retreating to burrows to wait out the cold that had claimed the life of more than one cat. And, of course, before any of the clans, before himself, before even Starclan, Windclan was the most important- Willowblaze had sworn to do anything to secure their survival, and he didn’t particularly like to break his world.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that point though, huh?” The grey tom said softly, finally removing his paw from the lilac petals he had crushed and carefully grooming between his toes. The taste made him wrinkle his nose, but he stuck to the cleaning fastidiously. “Maybe things will work themselves out.” A pause. “No, I don’t think so. But it’s nice to pretend.” The deputy shook himself before rubbing up alongside one of the few trees that dotted the sea of violet. “At least, for a little while.”