Soulfaith | He/Him | 17 moons | Leader of the… No. Not tonight. ~ The desert was quiet. It was as if it knew what he was preparing to do, as if the world was holding its breath. Every pawstep took Soulfaith further from the Dustrunners’ camp, closer to that place he had forsaken so long ago. Was he brave enough to do this? Was he strong enough to do this? Could he really… go home? There it was. Nearly untouched by time. A single den, hidden among a bunch of rocks and sand. Soulfaith tasted the air carefully. Nothing. No catscent, no scent of danger… just the expected scent of nothing. Silence. Soulfaith glanced around. Moonlight sparkled for as far as the loner could see. Soulfaith closed his eyes. Tears were already threatening to bubble up to his eyes, but he held it back. The den was small. Soulfaith didn’t remember it being this tiny, so compact… had he really lived here? Any sign that he had was completely gone. Soulfaith glanced around. There was no divot in the dirt where his mother had slept. There was no scent on the air that made Soulfaith remember a time long past. There was nothing. Soulfaith closed his eyes. It was just as cold, just as desolate here as he remembered. He should go home. Soulfaith, dejected, heart just as broken as the last time he left this place, turned to go. A single scratch on the wall caught Soulfaith’s eye. The scratch wasn’t thick, it wasn’t deep. Just a pale mark against a rock that had stood the test of time. Soulfaith stared at it for a very long moment. He… he remembered this. Warm memories flooded back in an instant. Soul– not Soulfaith, not the Leader of the Dustrunners, not the father of Theodore, just Soul– straightening up as much as he could against this wall. His mom laughing slightly, a flower crown dangling slightly over her eyes. Her beautiful, green eyes. “You’re getting so big!” The words wafted from a distant memory, ephemeral in its presence but strong in its effect. Soulfaith remembered her laugh. He remembered her gently scratching the stone where Soul had stood, marking his growth. Moon after moon. In this moment of blinding realization, Soulfaith felt a pang of sharp pain. Every claw mark as it went up got thinner, shakier. Almost as if the cat leaving it knew their time was running short. More, so many more painful habits crept into Soulfaith’s mind. Mom had stopped cutting up prey like Soul had liked it done. Mom had slept longer, walked slower. Mom had such a tired look in her eyes everytime Soul tried to talk about some story, some world a hundred shores away. Mom had been hiding it the best she could… but Soulfaith was good at what Soul hadn’t been. Recognizing patterns. Seeing paths. One thing had never changed though. Throughout all the exhaustion, every agonizing step, Mom had never stopped gently singing Soulfaith to sleep. A lullaby that stirred awake every so often, rising to Soulfaith’s lips. Just as tears now rose to his eyes. What were the words, what were those loving words that had long since slipped Soulfaith’s mind? Soulfaith shook his head. What was this, what was this feeling? Grief? Agony? Genuine, physical, heart-wrenching /pain/? Soulfaith stepped away. He looked around the den, his vision now half blurred with tears. “Mom?” His voice cracked as he spoke. Nobody spoke back. Only the silence of an abandoned den. Soulfaith shook his head insistently, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces as he collapsed to his knees, sobbing quietly. “I- I’m starting to forget- your voice, your words…” He looked up at the den roof, practically begging Starclan. “Please- please don’t leave me-” His shaking voice echoed against the silent den.
** “Please, Mom, one last lullaby before bed!” “Aha, Soul, I can never say no to you, my dear.” “Yesss!” “Listen closely, okay…?” ** “I love you, Soul.” ~ Soulfaith heard a quiet rustle behind him. He didn’t want to turn for a second, he didn’t want to be shaken from this gentle, warm stupor. But of course, he did anyways. There it was, fluttering in the wind slightly, as if it had fallen from the heavens. Black silk, red and orange embroideries, a single emblazoned symbol. Soulfaith didn’t need to look at it for long to know what the mysterious object was. He padded over, lifting it up in his paws. The ends of the eyepatch fluttered in the wind, gentle and tempting. Soulfaith peeled away his moss eyepatch. His scar twinged in the night, a combination of the sudden exposure and the salty sting of his tears. He tossed it aside. Quietly, he put the new eyepatch up to his eye, affixing the straps around his head. He looked up, his scar still peeking slightly beneath his new eyepatch. It felt solid against his face, lacking the familiar shifting and need for adjustment Soulfaith had grown used to. Soulfaith glanced back at his den. It was dark. But as if instructions had been whispered into his ear by some unbidden ghost, the word rose to his lips. “suno.” The light was dazzling. It sparkled all across the den that Soulfaith had left behind him many moons ago, casting light into corners that waited, ridden with dust. Soulfaith smiled slightly. His birthright. “suno ala.” As the light faded from view, leaving only an echoic memory of what the den had been in Soulfaith’s mind, he turned, looking out to the desert. Wind brushed around him, causing his fur to ruffle lightly in the night air. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, and just for a heartbeat, he thought he saw a glimmer of dark green eyes. But it was no more than a trick of the light. (ERP)
