burning through the bloodlineᵪ

the forest frost crunched and crackled under every pawstep he took. through the fog he saw charred, burnt trees, their trunks black from fire. even though the devestation ripped through the forest moons and moons ago, the scent of ash and smoke still hung in the air, an unwanted memory to haunt shadowclan for all time. a harsh shudder ran down gorsetalon's back but he shook it off, ears flattened at the memory of burning cats all around him, the infernos engulfing helpless kits, their home completely destroyed. they lost gannetstar that night when a tree combust into flames, toppling over on her. littlewolf returned to camp with a clump of her fur. the small she-cat tried to save their leader, but nothing could prevent mother nature from reigning down on shadowclan. had their warrior ancestors abandoned them? gorsetalon did not want to believe such things, but it felt so true.

that... that bitch. the she-cat who could not take care of her own kits. his kits! yet she became a hero when she returned with gannetstar's fate. gorsetalon couldn't believe wicked littlewolf would ever give mercy to another cat, let alone their leader. something didn't settle right with him, but without any proof, gorsetalon was left to speculate about that night. a monster like that doesn't deserve to live in a family, he growled to himself, tail thrashing at the very thought of littlestar's rendezvous to leadership. probably what she wanted all along. filled with sorrow and hate for his former mate, gorseclaw padded out of his den, head low, in search of the last possible scraps of food.

a few heartbeats later he landed in the ashiest part of shadowclan. a large, charred sycamore lay like a dead body on the ground, its roots uprooted, burned and maimed body exposed, and the last of its leaves dry, their singed, dark corners left the most heart-wrenching emotional tug gorsetalon felt in a long time. across from the sycamore gorsetalon encountered a small yet deep pool of water, the same lake they found his kit's bloated body, having been left out in the water for some time. apparently, they wandered too far from camp and, not knowing how to swim, fell into the pool and drowned to death. how littlewolf could be so careless as to leave her kits out of her sight was beyond him, and gorsetalon didn't even want to think about it.

he looked up from the puddle of memories and glanced across the marsh, where a small, furry figure stood, glancing at nothing particular. the mottled, gray body instantly registered in gorsetalon's mind, and his haunches raised in hate. "littlewolf," snarled gorsetalon under his breath, at first just to himself. but, as he mustered the courage, the tom's irascible orange eyes flared like flames. "littlewolf!" he called, this time with every intention of being heard.

ooc: fuck that post was fat. sorry!