Posts by Jet H.

[justify]Well, he'd been there to see the finale at least.

Ashton considered himself lucky for not having to experience the hell that Orpheus had put everyone through. From their haunting words, he was downright blessed to not have seen the worst. But he'd smelled the blood, the death that reeked from SunClan, where the scent of peony and daffodils usually bloomed. He had noticed the difference, and it had scared him, leaving him shaking as he watched the meeting go down.

"S-Sea ... oh my god." The serval choked out, covering his face. He supposed the leader wouldn't expect him to be here, as Ash had only gotten back a day ago. But still, no one could be as toppled over in shock as he was. Ashton ... couldn't even think straight! "Is a-anyone hurt badly?" He questioned, still trembling.

[justify]"Oui-oui!" The serval exclaimed almost a bit too excitedly, rocking on his feet by the group. He wore a proud grin, tail flicking gingerly. "That's all the French I know—wait, no—baguette." Ah, yes. He'd never really read much, nothing but all those comic books Mike had shared with him. As for speaking a different language—he'd never tried. He sounded funny enough to people with his Australian accent, but he supposed that was just because everyone usually had American or English accents.

The former leader took a seat then, smiling. "It's good of you to be learning about something so young—I'm still pretty young too, but I think it's too late for me to start learning something as hefty as that." Ashton mused, giggling a bit after himself.

[justify]SCREAMS
A SEXY MAN VOICE

[justify]ooooo
offers ashton up
wow this is great

[justify]"What's all this?" Ashton came bounding forward with a grin, blinking repetitively at the scenery set up. He didn't recall ever spending a Christmas in SunClan—perhaps he'd just forgotten, but he was enjoying the atmosphere that Teen had set up. It was a good break from the migraine inducing shock the past week had given everyone. Ash appreciated what she had worked so hard for—it was a big gesture in his eyes.

The serval padded forward, smiling. "This is awesome!" The Australian murmured softly, beaming at the sight of prepared food. Damn, she must've put a lot of effort into all of it.

[justify]He recalled a moment like this, back when he had been leader of SunClan. He'd been claimed a fool and was left helpless by a BoneClanner. But ... he had a hero. Michael had been there to pick him up, to save him. Even when he had all those demons himself ... Michael had been there to rescue him. And now ... now he felt lonely. He didn't have Michael anymore, nor any of his old friends. He was living in the world of the present ... but the past had come back to suck him in.

Ashton stood, shivering in the winter cold. His hazel eyes were dim, glancing from the onlookers to Atticus. The serval bit on his lip, hard, before shutting his eyes. He was going to die, he was going to die. This would be it, a release from this world. But he would be sad, for he did not want to leave, nor did he feel so well if he stayed. He just wanted the world that had consumed him and digested him with happiness back. He wanted the brightness back.

But he opened his eyes, and things were dark. "Dear god." He whispered. He thought of Emilie, of Seafoam. That was all of his past that he could hold on to. No matter how much he said he was over it, Ashton wanted it all back, he wanted his friends back. It was funny how near death was making him realize this.

[justify]Death was release, no? Then why hadn't it felt that way? Why had he gone through all of it, the death and everything, to be warped back here. Oh yes—his lives. The offering to new leaders of nine lives felt almost torturous. Six lives, he had six left to go. It was some sort of sick cycle. But what hurt the most? What broke him the most when he gasped and choked and woke up in SunClan's territory?

He didn't get to see Michael. Not him or Luke or Calum or even Jade. No one. It was lonely for that time, until he was jolted awake with a migraine. He was once again a cat, smoked black with one blind eye and another soft hazel one. He was handsome, but he didn't feel so. He felt ugly, he felt alone. There was a wound the shape of his past and it was too far along to heal it. He was hurt, not on the outside, but in his heart. He was sad and he would feel like that for a while, maybe.

Ashton would not move for a while after he'd been awoken, sighing sadly and staring off into the wild, waiting for himself to be found. He didn't really know what to think. To be publicly executed in front of an allied Clan? He couldn't even make it up when he said he didn't know how to feel. Every thought just made his head hurt more, really.