Out of Character.
Nickname: Twilight (Cherry)
Other Characters: Russetfang, Yewpaw
Email:
Back In Character.
Name- Cedarkit, Cedarpaw, Cedarleaf,
Twilightstar
Age- 25 Moons
Birth Month- Spring, Moon of Bird Song
Gender- Tom
Rank-Leader
Personality- Twilightstar is still young. Very young, for becoming a leader. All the responsibility and pressure is causing the formerly quick-thinking tom stress and a loss of wit. Without the responsibility of leadership, Twilightstar is found to be a partially quiet, laid-back cat. He can be known as the peacekeeper, and not at all agressive; he would rather handle a situation with words rather than claws. Though he isn't always witty with his tongue, he will not stand for fighting among clan-mates, and will usually give them some kind of not-so-fun punishment (such as cleaning the elders den) for doing so. Another word can describe the rustic tom: a dreamer. More often now with his newfound leadership, he can be found staring off into the skies with a dazed look until somebody snaps him out of it. What is he dreaming of? Different things every time, he supposes. Overall though the tom holds a heart of compassion, even if he has trouble making the right decisions and showing it. Calling him a pushover would be going too far-- but he is amiable, and has an awful time making decisions related to Clan welfare or every day duties. Often times he relies on his Deputy to help him out. He knows it is a horrible quality, and is determined to become a more confident leader.
Appearance- Twilightstar is a medium to large-sized tom. He is tall with a well-set frame, strength emitting from his muscles with every step. However, his build is not large in the way of having strong broad shoulders and square hips, but rather everything is a little slimmer. His pelt consists of rustic reds and golds, a faint tabby patter etchings its way along his face and spine. Often he must take special care to keep his pelt clean—it is on the long side, and therefore is more susceptible to picking up leaves and other undergrowth. His chin is a pure white that moves down his neck and under his belly, and it contrasts rather greatly with the mostly dark hue that the rest of his coat holds. His eyes are not amber, yet not brown—more in between, a soft chestnut color. They are rimmed also in white, and to compliment them he has amazingly long ivory eyelashes and whiskers. The tom’s tail is of normal length, holding the color and markings of his back; it often can be found at his side, the tip constantly twitching in some anticipation of something. He has no scars to speak of—whether that is a good thing or a bad, another can decide.
History- Dawnpaw was an excellent apprentice. She was attentive, alert, and had full faith in her mentor. She was everything a clan cat should hope to be—hunting came with ease, and learning to fight was a thrill. Always eager to please, she often practiced overtime, and spent more and more hours with her mentor. While such eagerness should be desired, the rest of the apprentices (and a few other Clan cats as well), noticed that this young cat spent more time out of camp, away from her peers. The rest of the apprentices claimed they hardly saw her at all, and they rarely held training sessions with her.
“She overworks herself,” they would all murmur as she came staggering into the apprentice den to plop down on her moss bed with exhaustion. Sure it was normal for a cat to be excited about their training…but this was a little out of hand. But how could Dawnpaw help it? She felt a bond like no other to her mentor—it grew stronger whenever she trained with him, and she felt she would do anything to make him happy. She didn’t dare tell any of her denmates though…what would they think of her feeling such closeness to the Clan leader?
Her entire apprenticeship was spent this way. She worked fiercely hard, determination brimming in her amber gaze. It was almost as if if she proved she was an excellent warrior, then maybe she would prove her worth of being noticed by Birchstar. But it was silly, she felt…he was much older than she. Not to mention he was Clan leader, and her mentor. It was wrong on so many levels, and so she shoved whatever emotions away, and continued her training—though perhaps not with quite so much gumption. And her mentor noticed the change in her behavior too…she was nearing the age to become a warrior, and she was beginning to slack. Birchstar couldn’t figure the reason, but one day in a private battle training he questioned it. Dawnpaw tumbled to the ground, falling out of a clumsy leap. She sat up quickly, licking her ruffled ginger fur and claimed she didn’t know what he was talking about. With the confused, lingering look of her mentor she lowered her eyes and apologized, then asked if they could continue training. And so they did without another word.
The time of her warrior ceremony came. Birchstar stood atop Bigrock and gave each apprentice their new name. Then it came time for his own apprentice. His green eyes settled on her; her own gaze met his and she felt a flurry of butterflies swirl in her stomach. Dawnblossom. That was the name he bestowed upon her…and it was beautiful. A wide smile broke her features as she heard her clan shout her name aloud. It was a glorious day, and it extended into the night; they were expected to visit The Highflowers with the leader and medicine cat while their mentors sat vigil for them. Dawnblossom wondered what Birchstar, her mentor, would do. But as they were getting ready to leave it was clear that he was coming with them. Drywhisper gathered up the young warriors and led the way to the sacred lands. Dawnblossom hung back near the end of the group, and to her nervousness Birchstar walked alongside her, matching her step for step. The young she-cat wished in her mind she could think of something to say to her mentor…she’d never had a problem with it before. Birchstar glanced over at her, green eyes gleaming in the night—but she kept her eyes straight ahead, waiting before she felt his gaze move from her to relax.
The trip felt like an eternity, but finally the small group reached the cliff that lead to The Highflowers. All filing in a line the cats moved up the steep path. Finally she reached the top, stepping foot on flat ground, rather breathless. But the sight made the breath flow back into her as she stared in awe, stuck in her tracks. Her mentor brushed his nose on her flank, gently urging her to follow the rest. She started, glancing at Birchstar with embarrassment before picking up the pace to catch up with the rest of the group. They all settled down, nestled in the yellow flowers that glowed silver in the starlight. They murmured among themselves, sharing stories and laughing gently. As Dawnblossom was about find her own spot, she was surprised by the call of her name.
“Come here, please, I’d like to talk to you.” It was Birchstar. He signaled her to follow with his tail, and padded many tail-lengths away from the rest of the group. “
Y-yes Birchstar?” the young warrior questioned nervously, blinking at the older cat. The leader let his eyes trail toward the sky in silence before turning around to sit in front of the cat. He let his striped tail curl around his paws, long white whiskers twitching gently. He was silent still though as he gazed at her, and for the first time Dawnblossom saw him seem to struggle with words. She shifted on her own paws, glancing to the ground.
“Dawnblossom…there’s something that you’ve been hiding from me, isn’t there?” he ventured. She glanced up quickly, eyes wide with fear—was he accusing her of something?
“No! Birchstar I would never hide anything from you…why would I?” His steady gaze remained on her, calm and patient…and it was mixed with another emotion the she-cat couldn’t identify.
“You are beautiful, do you know that?”
And that just shocked her. Her eyes went wide as moons and her tail twitched.
“E-excuse me sir…?” she stammered. Birchstar let out a faint purring laugh, eyes smiling as he tilted his head.
“You’re so nervous…you know how I feel, don’t you? You must…you’ve been on edge for moons. Call me crazy to fall in love with my apprentice, but I have,” his voice was soft and reassuring, filled with a gentleness that no cat could ever feign. Dawnblossom merely stared at him in utter astonishment. A faint wind dusted the ground, causing the moonlit flowers to shift; it was as if StarClan themselves were whispering to them. And then she took a step forward, eyes wet.
“I love you too, Birchstar. I always have. “ With their mutual feelings realized, Dawnblossom and Birchstar became mates—a match made in heaven. And it wasn’t soon before their first kits were born…but it ended in disaster when none of them lived past a few days. With heartbreak they waited a little while before their second litter…and once again, there wasn’t any survivor to speak of. The two were beginning to think that they were cursed; did StarClan not wish them to have any offspring? Did they not approve for some reason…?
“Third time’s a charm,” Birchstar told his loved one with grim optimism. And finally Dawnblossom gave birth to two kits—both strong and healthy. The couple was overjoyed, and the agreed on the tradition of naming the children after a tree or plant of some sort. Ashkit was given to the gray tabby girl, and Cedarkit was given to the rusty-red tom. But tragedy struck again…at only a moon old, a fox broke into the nursery. It attempted to steal one of Shadowflower’s kits, Skykit, and trampled on Ashkit in the process. . The result was fatal, and Cedarkit would never grow to know his sister, though her death wouldn’t affect him like it did his denmate, Shatteredkit. But as he would grow, he would find her to be more of a companion and sister-figure anyway—he never felt the empty void of a missing sibling.
But then it was time for Shatteredkit to move out. Cedarkit watched the ceremony, sitting next to his mother with her tail around him. His father stood atop Bigrock, and announced that his deputy would be taking his daughter on as an apprentice. A smile beamed on his face as he watched Shatteredkit step up and touch her father’s nose with her own. Cedarkit’s tail curled up and he looked up to his mother. “How come Shatteredkit”
”Shatteredpaw his mother corrected. “gets to be an apprentice without me? I want to train too…!” he told Dawnblossom with a faint pout on his face. His mother gave an amused purr.
“She’d older than you…you’ll join her in the apprentice den soon enough, my Cedarkit.” the young tom blinked up at his mother, eyes flickering back toward Shatteredpaw. He didn’t like that…what if she made different friends, and forgot all about him? His ears twitched and the kit sighed, watching the black and white apprentice step down.
”Come on Cedarkit,” his mother swept her tail gently around him, and he followed after her back into the nursery.
Then the day came, the day he had waited for for two moons. Sure, he’d visited the apprentice den to see Shatteredpaw…but the older apprentices often got annoyed with his antics, and sent him on his way. But today he would rightfully join the apprentice den. After a thorough grooming from his mother, Cedarkit sat near the front of the group and stared up at his father with anticipation. Birchstar blinked down at his son, eyes smiling gently. And then he made the announcement that the older, well respect Smokebird shall be his mentor. Cedarpaw jumped to his paws and eagerly touched noses with the gray warrior, whiskers twitching with excitement. That night he had to find his nest in the apprentice den…and it was surprisingly crowded, especially compared to the roomy nursery. But eventually he settled down in a spot next to Shatteredpaw, no doubt. He curled into the mossy nest and let his eyes flicker around the dim den. All of the apprentices were asleep, and he could hear their gentle breaths. Even Shatteredpaw was asleep. His eyes rested on her for a moment, and the tom smiled briefly before tucking his nose beneath his paws and falling asleep himself.
Life as an apprentice served him well. Smokebird was a kind, patient mentor—perfect for Cedarpaw’s short attention span, and daydreaming mind. He often went out hunting with Birchstar as well, learning the old cats wise words and listening to stories from before he was born. But he noticed that his father was slowly becoming more and more forgetful, and tiring more easily. He brought Birchstar meals that he caught, not wanting to make the old leader have to get up and go out hunting with him…he didn’t want to tire him out. Along with bonding with his father, he was also ecstatic that Shatteredpaw hadn’t forgotten about him in the two moons they’d been apart. She treated him just the same, and was still the quiet she-cat that he was used to. He probably spent more time out and about with her than any of the other apprentices, or even his mentor. His ears would twitch upon the remarks he’d hear everyone mutter. Things about them together, how adorable, how cute, and so on. While Shatteredpaw may have found it annoying, he basked in it. The young tom agreed completely with them, and would smile widely upon hearing a comment. How special he was, to earn Shatteredpaw’s attention when she offered it to no one else. Cedarpaw considered her his best friend, and felt a bond that couldn’t be comparable to anyone else. He may not have realized it, but his emotions were probably stronger than Shatteredpaw’s, and he was setting himself up for disaster.
But his mind had to be diverted from training and Shatteredpaw when tragedy struck. Birchstar lost his final life to Greencough, despite the medicine cat’s best attempts to save him. Dawnblossom was heartbroken, sobbing on her son’s shoulder while Cedarpaw stared toward the starry sky with watery eyes. His father had been Clan leader for as long as many cats could remember…he was noble and fair, and lead with a gentle paw. Dawnblossom was clearly shaken by the event…but she had known it was coming. She couldn’t argue the cats age, and the addition of illness was fatal. But she made a request of Cedarpaw, one that would weight heavily on his shoulders—something his mother hadn’t intended. She asked for her boy to be like Birchstar…to grow up and be like him. Cedarpaw nodded, and was relieved to see some consolation in his mother’s tragic green gaze. But her words would haunt him…how could
he live up to be something as great as Birchstar had been? He was doing okay in his training; he learned the fighting and hunting moves…but he wasn’t outstanding. He daydreamed a lot, and often thought about…other things other than the Clan. He was sure he’d have to break his mothers promise…though he’d certainly try with all his being—and hopefully with the help of StarClan.
Newleaf came around, and it was time for him to become a warrior. After his father’s death he had tried considerably harder in his training with Smokebird (who became Deputy when Hauntstar took Birchstar’s place). He and Shatteredpaw stood together at the ceremony; despite his younger age, he was to be warriored with his denmate. As he stood there next to her, he watched Hauntstar. The leader gazed down on Shatteredpaw with all the pride a father could muster. He blinked sadly, glancing down to the ground before looking over to his mother. There was a sad sparkle in her eyes too, but it was masked by her own pride and excitement for Cedarpaw. He sent her a smile and pushed any sorrow away; this was a day to be celebrated! His ears perked forward as he listened to Hauntstar. He gave his daughter the name Shatterednight—it was such a fitting name for her. He sent the she-cat a warm smile, his tail twitching to touch her briefly. And then it was his turn, though he’d already spoken with Hauntstar days before. He made a request of the leader…and true to his word, Hauntstar granted the tom the name Cedarleaf, after his father. The newly named Cedarleaf sat up straighter, pride and joy beaming in his hazel eyes now.
They went to The Highflowers that night, and returned the next dawn to continue their lives as Warriors. Moons went by without anything monumental happening. Cedarleaf still spent as much time with Shatterednight as ever. He was older now, and his wits had calmed a bit…perhaps he was developing true feelings for the dark she-cat—he’d grown up with her, and couldn’t imagine being without her. Still the comments grew about the pair, and he’d wave his tail at them, still smirking each time someone made a comment. It was one day though, when a few she-cats were murmuring about the two, that Hauntstar overheard. Cedarleaf had saw the leader’s eyes flash furiously toward Shatterednight—he watched to see what she’d do. His heart dropped to find how she glared back at her father, and shook her head. His tail drooped slightly, and all prospects he had in his mind vanished. Whatever emotions he’d had bubbling inside him—whether it be a crush, love, or a simple best-friend bond, they were forced to subside. He often felt awkward around Shatterednight then, though continued to hunt and practice moves like every other normal day.
He never imagined his old mentors death could bring his life to such an astonishing change. After Smokebird’s vigil, the clan gathered around Bigrock to stare up at Hauntstar. He was expected to appoint a new Deputy…and when he announced Cedarleaf’s name, surprised rippled through the Clan. But the shock came most from Cedarleaf himself. His eyes were wide as moons as he stared up at Haunstar. The young warrior stepped forward as he was expected to do, but his mind whirled. He hadn’t had an apprentice yet! And…
He glanced back at Shatterednight, and was sure he saw something awful glinting in her eyes. Yet she didn’t speak…just kept watching. His eyes flickered over to another form, one who was smiling widely, eyes glimmering with pride. It was Dawnblossom. Cedarleaf realized this was his chance…if he trained as Deputy, perhaps he could become more like Birchstar…he could grow into a great leader some day. The tom accepted the position gratefully. When the Clan was dispersing, he sent a glance toward Shatterednight; a guilty, solemn frown came across his expression. This would create a riff between them that would perhaps never be healed.
Cedarleaf was right in his prediction about Shatterednight. The she-cat stopped her daily hunts with him, and rarely spoke to her father either. Annoyance rolled off her pelt whenever he came near her, no matter what he said to her. With a sigh Cedarleaf had to accept that his friendship was changed with Shatterednight…he couldn’t rely on her anymore…she didn’t want to be around him. He never had much time to stew about his lost friendship though, for he was bombarded with the duties that came with his new job, as well as learning important leadership tips form Hauntstar. And ontop of that, his mother gave birth to another kit completely to his surprise. And Hauntstar was the father. That caused the tom to take a step back from them both; he didn’t understand whatever relationship they had…how could his mother do such a thing? How could she betray Birchstar like that, and give birth to Haunstar’s child? Shatterednight was equally disturbed, and that was something at least that they shared again. Cedarleaf would not blame his new little sister Yewkit, and would grow close with her—but his bond with his leader and mother distanced.
Six moons passed, and Cedarleaf obtained his first apprentice. Farpaw was the tom he was going to train, a handsome young cat with a soft golden pelt and stunning blue eyes. But he was not the only one to obtain an apprentice…Shatterednight was to mentor Yewpaw. Cedarleaf wondered why Hauntstar chose his daughter to train his second child…he didn’t doubt Shatterednight’s ability to…but was it because he still felt his daughter the true leader? The young cat often got that feeling from the tough leader…and he felt like Haunstar chose him as deputy for every other reason other than he was the right cat for the job. Everybody knew Shatterednight was more suited for it, so why didn’t he just choose her? Ambivalence racked his emotions, torn between wanting to live up to his father’s reputation, and living up to who he truly was, and with the knowledge of who really was cut out for the job.
But he never obtained the chance to talk with his leader about it. A fox took the leaders life only a few days after he obtained his apprentice, and shock rippled through the Clan. When news came to him, Cedarleaf was stunned into silence, for he knew what that meant…and so did the rest of the Clan. A deputy took the leaders position when he died…and that was Cedarleaf. Before he knew what was happening, he was shooed away to the Highflowers by the medicine cat. This would be is second trip to the Highflowers within the past nine moons; most cats only visited the sacred place once in a lifetime. As Cedarleaf padded along the Cliffside, his paws shook. He was to be leader…leader…like his father. He would be the youngest leader Woodclan had ever known—would they accept him at such a young and inexperienced age? Would StarClan? Thoughts of doubt and fear streamed through his mind as he stepped foot onto the gentle grass of the plateau. His hazel eyes flickered to the heavens; it was a clear night, and he could see the stars for miles. For a brief moment his anxiety was swept away with awe. The sky looked like a giant dome above his head, and stretched in front of him were soft blue flowers, glowing silver in the shining moonlight. Taking a deep breath he moved through the blossoms before settling down in a soft tuft of grass. His eyes slid shut, and he tumbled into the dreams of StarClan.
”Twilightstar,” they spoke after he received his nine lives. Cedarleaf blinked in astonishment.
”You will be known as Twilightstar—Woodclan is coming on a new era, and so we bestow a new name on you. You will lead them bravely, Twilightstar, and show them that change brings new dawn.” He had repeated the name Cedarstar in his mind over and over as he traveled to the Highflowers…and it was a name that he would never know. Twilightstar…StarClan changed his name. He couldn’t argue with his anscestors, and suddenly felt like he was only a small part of something much greater. He stared around the group of glittering cats, and they stared back with their noble eyes.
“Trust yourself, Twilightstar, and lead Woodclan into prosperity.” they began to fade around him, and he woke once more. His eyes blinked away the sleep, trailing to the heavens. The skies were aglow with the coming sun, and the stars were fading back into the blue-gold sky. Twilightstar. The tom rose to his paws, and arched his back in a long stretch. StarClan’s faith in him helped ease his nerves…but now that he was back in the waking world, facing reality, he was nervous. But he couldn’t be nervous…leaders didn’t get nervous.
When the leader reached the bottom of the cliff, he suddenly felt new vigor. The cat sprung on his paws, and began at a sprint back to Woodclan. Running cleared his mind, and a smile slowly found its way on his short muzzle. He would announce to the Clan his new name, and they would support him, wouldn’t they? With that thought he realized he was expected to make a choice of a new deputy. It took only a second for him to think of who that would be, and suddenly his heart and spirits lifted further. This could fix everything…he could fix everything that had been broken in his life; in his and in Shatterednight’s.
Role Play Example- This is a sample from From the Ashes, a wolf site I roleplay at. It's of Genevieve, the last post I ever made with her. <3
Genevieve could find solace in the imaginary life she created for herself. For as she imagined it…that was the way she was certain it was supposed to be. That was the way she had wanted life to be…she wanted nothing of this. Nothing of what she had gotten…she was a wolf full of regret. It seemed that was the fate of Poor Genevieve Allscythe—it was a fate filled with anguish and remorse, right up until the end. Her spirit would never settle…it never even had inside her own body. And now that it was escaping her mortal form, it was sure to wander free from the gods, from the heavens and from the afterworld. She was not ready to leave the world, no more than Nerrek was ready to let her go. She was broken from her imagination, her faint-like trance. Thrown violently back into the waking world, where she struggled with the pain. If it was painful and difficult for a healthy wolf in her prime, it was tenfold for the weak Genevieve. Every push ripped another piece of life from her body, every gasping breath…
She was aware of Nerrek by her side though…and that was one thing in her entire life she could never regret. He was the only thing that was certain, and the only thing she ever trusted in. She never trusted her mother, and learned to distrust her father…she lost faith in her pack, and hope for even the world slipped through her paws. Genevieve was not ignorant…no…she was so knowledgeable of the world, of the world she perceived, that it tore her up inside. It was a strength—a mental strength that perhaps spurred her physical weakness. It was a shame how such polar opposite could be paired together—a powerful mind and soul with a weak, powerless body. It was a cruel fate from the start…and perhaps that is what had made her so bitter through it all. Because she learned life’s biggest, hardest, and yet simplest lesson, and it summed everything up in three simple words.
Life isn’t fair.
But some justice had been done to her…and that justice took the form of Nerrek Aislin. He brought some light to her dark heart, and graced her with the hope that not everything on this earth was self-serving. He lit something in her that died before she was even born…the ability to rely on someone other than herself. She found herself dependant on him now, and she could never have faith in anything but him. He was her guardian and her love. Yes…Genevieve Allscythe found room in her heart for love, or what she could believe was love anyway. It was all she was capable of…and Nerrek accepted her for that. He didn’t ask for more, didn’t demand her pledges of loyalty and adoration…just wanted to be with her. And that, dear friends, was something to be admired and adored, and loved indeed. Her ears swiveled as he spoke her name, and rested by her side. A whimper left his muzzle, and she was thrown into another pain filled contraction. Determination flared inside her though—once this was done, she could lay her head down. But now…now she had to keep going, keep her body alive, for just a bit longer. And her powerful soul could do that easy enough.
Several minutes passed, as did contractions. And finally the femme clenched her teeth, ears folded back as she gave one final push. And there it was. A gorgeous, wailing pup. Half of Genevieve, half of Nerrek…squealing there on the ground. Genevieve’s breaths were weakening, but she mustered energy to turn to the little thing, and lick it clean. ”A name of calm…we must give her,” she breathed, voice hardly audible. It was all she could to do think of words to speak…but they had to name it. They’d talked about several before…and she told Nerrek it was up to him to choose which one fit the best. But suddenly her body stiffened; her tired body that was about ready to give in. Her mind hissed in frustration and confusion, and she knew—another pup. How and why she would never know…but mostly she questioned why. She never fathomed creating two pups…and Nerrek couldn’t take care of two. “I can’t…” she murmured in a half sob, letting her muzzle fall against the ground as she panted. Give up give up give up, her mind seemed to wail, and she wanted to with all her being. But then she would be proving what she always thought the rest of the world viewed her as; weak. And yes…she admitted now, and knew that she was…but only in body. Only in body, and the body was unimportant, was it not? Only for the purpose of living on earth did you need one…and soon she would no longer need it. She must use it for all it was worth…she couldn’t give up, not just yet.
Genevieve tried to control her breath with all her might. She tried to steady herself, and regulate her heartbeats to make them last longer. Despite her willpower, she could feel things failing inside of her. She could feel her organs giving way to the strain. The femme gave a push, and then another. This one was smaller, thank the heavens…the young femme gave one last heave, and the little boy was born. Out into the harsh world with his dear sister—and both would be motherless. Genevieve was almost sad that she had to bring the precious beings into such a wretched place…but she’d spoken with Nerrek. She’d talked to him…she wanted her pups to remain ignorant. While Gen found power in knowledge, it was useless, and caused nothing but misery. Ignorance was bliss…and when one is ignorant, they know not what they miss in obtaining knowledge. She wanted her children to be dumb and happy…whatever it took to avoid the life she lived. But she knew already that their life would be better, for their father was Nerrek Aislin, who could spare more love than any wolf could muster.
There were no more pups inside her, she knew this for certain now. And itw as a good thing…for Genna wouldn’t have been able to birth them. Even will had to give in to mortal circumstances—and by this point, her will itself was fading. She could feel a haze flicker across her body, faintness crawling across her mind. She knew everything was losing power…shutting down. Genevieve could feel her breaths begin to shallow as her lungs had more and more trouble taking in air and distributing it. Her heart pumped blood through her veins, but it was slow and agonizing. And her mind…her mind was the strongest thing left. She hadn’t use of her lips or her tongue anymore…she couldn’t speak any words to her beloved Nerrek. Genevieve Allscythe was dying.
Her eyes trailed in a search for his yellow ones. And she found them, staring down at her. She couldn’t speak with words…but she could speak through her eyes, and only hope that Nerrek could translate. Thank you… she said. Thank you Nerrek Aislin…you made my stay worth while…something I never thought would happen. And then her eyes slid closed. Her muzzle rested against the bloody sand, and her strained dark ears gently moved forward in a lax position. Her breaths became more shallow, more separated and faint. Her heart slowed. And then her soul flickered from her body, leaving it completely.
At two years old, the Allscythe died. Two years filled with confusion and longing, insight and bitterness. Years filled with knowledge and with ignorance, with stubbornness, and with love…even for the briefest of times. However unfair it seemed…she was glad. Because what awaited her? Peace…peace at long last.
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