Post by LupTacco on May 17, 2019 21:56:24 GMT
Brittlebark hummed restlessly as he padded through the forest, still adjusting to the new surroundings they'd moved to only a few moons ago. Everything was different- their ancestors now lived in StarClan, their home was beneath the earth, sheltered away as if all of them were Firstspeaker, and his own name felt alien and inorganic to his tongue- Brittlebark. It was only half of his true name; deep down, he knew he was still Brittle Bark of Dry Tree, and that he always would be. He would always remember that clawed up old tree husk he was named for, a beloved landmark of Stonehome, where he himself learned to climb and claw when he was little. Closing his eyes, he could even picture it: a sunny, warm day in the home, his heart racing and his head held high with pride as he finally latched onto the highest point of the shattered tree and peered into the shade of the stone structure trying to find the warm, laughing gaze of his father in the dark as Petal of Black Rose smirked and tried to catch up, and Owl and Rain played their own games in the arching roots.
The young tom winced, grimacing at the ground as he shook the memory away. It was only him and Rain, now. Rose had disappeared so young, and Owl had been lost in the crushing jaws of the metal monsters that overturned their ancient home. His mother had disappeared so long ago he almost couldn't remember her face, and Ash of Last Sun had died with a shuddering breath only a short time before his home collapsed, the final Firstspeaker of the Tribe of Ancient Roots. He sometimes wished he was closer to Rain; he worried she, too would disappear, and they were so distant it felt like a chasm between them. They never seemed to talk anymore. He shook his head again, rougher this time- he had a purpose, and he couldn't get lost in his thoughts again.
There had been a horrible crack in the forest during the recent windstorm. Brittlebark had been searching through the forest, looking for its source- plenty of fallen branches and scattered leaves, but he knew there was something worse to be found, and soon he found exactly what he had been seeking. A slender, greyish-white tree trunk was cast on the ground, its base a spiky node on the earth. A birch tree- pale, almost bone-like. This one could have easily outlasted him, but against the odds he had outlived it instead. Curling his tail around his hindlegs as he sat down in front of it, he placed one paw on the trunk and one paw on the base. Ancestors- whether you live in StarClan or the land of Endless Hunting, please remember... "...the prey feeds us, and we give our thanks for every mouse we catch. But the mouse must feed too- so let this tree be seen and remembered as a place of shelter and seed for the creatures that sustain us," his silent prayer became verbal as he murmured it aloud. He was so focused on his task that he hardly noticed it when someone approached behind him.
