[ retro to bloodclan's demolition ]
long legs powered the foreigner towards riverclan. from bloodclan to riverclan, the passing by of demolished cars changed to a scenery of spring reeds waving to him, from abandoned buildings to trees that brushed the undersides of clouds, from concrete to the soft leniency of moistened earth that seemed to almost slow his gait as he powered towards the land where the river ran sparkling, where birds chirped their merry song instead of a dreadful, ominous tone, where the siamese to whom he loved so much, resided.
as the day wind sung with ethereal delight, brushed up against his thin fur, his thin frame, whispering promises in his darkly-tinted ears, ears that had only heard of heartbreak and sorrow, never uplifting desires and hope. yet that was riverclan, he presumed. where the river's cool touch was enough to subside the growing thirst of bloodclan, where bo's light-filled touch could heal viper's own dark-stained.
the sun came down with a light touch, filtering through verdant green leaves with a delicacy as the spilling of sunshine pooled around his feet. the conifers, thickly-wrapped in their verdure, and birches, their white bark reflecting the sun with a brilliancy, showing no cracks of the darkness that lay within. and as he came to lay beside riverclan, his claws grasping at moistened earth, the rich soil collecting beneath his paws, anxiety wracked through him. wracked through him as if he were no more than a vessel for the dark energy that had been harnessed within, and threatened to release at the slightest pin drop; mercurial energy flooded his senses, and shot through his veins.
then there was the aggravation, that came on like a sweeping tide, washing away those feelings of anxious and pent-up energy to remain indignant in their pursuit. irritation flickered on his features, and was again replaced by anxiety once again, reigning supreme. irritation and dread, a dangerous concoction to be consumed and wielded, yet it was so by viper. bo's disappearance from viper's life had been noticeable, to say the least.
a part of him felt broken, as if he were clay cracked over a slab of granite, as if he were a vase thrown and broken into a million pieces. and he could only be repaired by bo's precious hand, through filling the cracks with gold and silver, making him ever more precious than before. as if bo were the missing piece to him, as he was more than a simple presence in his passage of life, he was the love that reminded him to be true to himself, to never yield in the face of adversity. he loved bo, and bo loved he.
/ lowkey not great but, bo.