. ⊹ ₊ ݁ rhapsody of a songbird ꒱ srp

Instructions

The moon hung in the air, full and gleaming, a pearl, a promise. The night was cold, and the song of crickets was barely audible, echoing from the forest. The midnight wanderer sat alone, at the very edge of the twolegplace, across a small, quiet thunderpath from the endless sea of pine trees and paradise. This shouldn’t have been a hard decision to make. Family. All Starling had ever wanted. Something out of her reach, out of her control, not more than faded bloodstains on a thunderpath and scattered scales of butterfly wings, an unfulfilled promise, icy snow against her fur. She had it now, didn’t she? Starling looked up at the moon. She had Saint, her best friend. The cat who she would follow until the earth dropped into oblivion, until her paws fell off, until the sky crashed down. The sun in her sky, the warmth on her fur, a cat who voiced questions that really made her \think.\ A cat who made her feel something more than determination and resent. She had Eclipsingfate, a stranger who was so similar to her in so many ways, moondust and ambition and butterfly wings, filled with sadness and grieving for something she didn’t know, so weak and vulnerable, yet icy and composed. She wanted to protect him, even though he thought he didn’t need it. Even Sable, she allowed herself to think with a small huff. Even after that stinging defeat, it was what pushed Starling to better herself. She \would\ get better. She would defeat Sable. And… the thought of a rivalry made Starling smile a little bit. Finally, a cat who she could really compare herself against. Someone worthy of her directing her efforts towards them. The wander stared at her paws. The last name hurt to think of, to hold in her head, but she forced herself to cling onto it. Quailstar. Her mentor. Her… father. Her head was spinning suddenly. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t go to ShadowClan. She failed Raven. What if she failed Quailstar next? The thought made her sick, made her recoil, pupils narrowing in fear. The wanderer didn’t want to lose anyone anymore. She just wanted to be safe, to have a home. To close her eyes and not see the red creeping over her, to feel the warmth of the sun and the stars, and the shadows of pine trees over her fur. Starling closed her eyes. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. And maybe Raven’s sacrifice was a gift. To be loyal, to care for, to protect. Starling opened her eyes. She stood up. Quailstar. The thought she had left halfway began to finish itself. The cat who was so much like her, hurting inside yet afraid to tell anyone. The cat who had come from pain and suffering, and had risen to lead ShadowClan. Her mentor, looking past her kittypet roots, who saw the potential she had within her. Her father. A cat who had filled the hole that her mother had taken up, a hole she had gone her whole life buried within her. She looked up at the moon, the stars. A warmth rose up from within her. This whole time, she had been chasing it away. But not now. Too weak to save Raven. Too weak to escape from the twolegs. Too weak to find the cats she cared about when the calamity struck. For once in her life, she wouldn’t be weak. Starling embraced the feeling. It hurt, it burned like lava and froze her like ice. It tingled like stardust and stabbed her like thorns. And maybe that's what we all learn in the end. That loving, that caring is so, so hard. It’s grief and suffering, tears and blood. But it’s what makes us human. That’s what makes us who we are. We are defined by the blood \we\ are willing to shed. We are defined by the fear and weakness that holds us back, by the love that pushes us forward. Starling took a step forward. Then another, then another, until she felt the thunderpath vibrate and lights blinding. Just like all those moons ago, except this time, she didn’t step back. She didn’t run forwards. She embraced it, because the monster wasn’t real. It was the weakness inside of her that had held her back all along. It would trail her like a shadow until the day that she died. But maybe, weakness is what allowed her to love in the end. The lights rushed over her, the sun, the stars, the moon, swirling around her, rainbows and dark spots in her eyes. Shadows and starling. Starless. Starling. The midnight wanderer held on to the light, and took those last few steps forwards. No longer a wanderer. The grass beneath her paws, the stars above her head. The \family\ she had, close to her, ready to protect her, Starling ready to protect them. She was going home.