Posts by Birdshadow

Lastpath. Her name tasted like a song, and yet its owner didn't.

Her nose: twisted, forcing her muzzle into an unsightly smirk. Her pelt: scarred and ragged, a rusty red color. She was, as it is, rather ugly.

(She-cat.)

Hushpaw turned, a grin spreading across his muzzle. "Nothing," he lied easily. "Just thinking."

Hushpaw stretched out his limbs, a yawn emitting from his mouth.

"What's wrong with smiling? The alternative is cowardice; giving in to every pain inside," mewed Hushpaw, a blank expression crossing his face. "I could give a million reasons for me to act like you seem. I've seen far too many things. But if I didn't smile, I'd be lost."

Hushpaw's normal, widespread grin returned to his muzzle. "You're right about that." He let out a soft laugh and peered outside, then immediately yanked his head back. "Agh! Too bright!" The tom shook his head once and laughed once more.

"What's your name?" he mewed to the she-cat, for he hadn't the slightest idea of her identity. "I'm Hushpaw, if you didn't know."

Hushpaw weaved through the tangle of nests, blindly stepping into his in the pitch blackness. He heard the rustle of another cat's body nearby, and, surprised that not everyone was asleep, mewed quietly, "Who is it?"

Lastpath, a ruddy red tabby she-cat with a twisted nose that forced her mouth into an ugly smirk, darted through the trees, glaring at the tom behind the branches.

It was the lavender thread,
Packed in Mom’s sewing basket for
As long as I can remember.
Unmoving, so pefectly present,
Like the Chinese statue on the mantle
Or the flowers on my wall.
Tingling
With the aroma of laundry soap,
Wrapped crisply, a kite string before it unravels,
And the kite catches the air.
Stitching my rips,
Cleansing my tears,
Sealed into little parts of my life.
Like the jeans, skidding on concrete, sliced at the shin.
For the teddy bear with one eye lost,
Buried in the back of my closet behind preschool watercolors,
Gleaming, with an iris of lavender.
The needle,
One eye
Blinking,
As it slides,
Dips,
In and out
Like a swimmer surfacing.
A connector of continents,
stitching Pangaea.
That lavender thread edges the quilt
that warms me,
and holds together
The sweater that comforts me.
Takes, seizes
The fabric by its end,
Tugs it to the second shore,
Like a mother coaxing her child to play with the others.
The thread, sure in its steps,
Packed,
Unpacked,
As if we always traveled,
Resting
In the same place
In the sewing basket,
Next to the black and the green,
Almost used, always refilling our hands.
But the lavender thread seems infinite,
Holding in it,
Memories.
The old thread,
Worn,
And frayed at the ends,
But now wrapped around the smell
Of comforting fingers,
And apple pie.
It’s warm and soft,
Tiny pillows of cotton.
A needle still attached to the end.
It’s been through some hard times,
And seen enough of mine,
But it’s always been there,
Never judged me.
Almost a reminder
Through the wool of my sweater
And the down of my quilt,
Of memories,
And the sureness of hands.
But when it all
Comes down to it
It can also show
How easily
Life can
Unravel
And that when something is stitched again,
It isn’t always stronger.

~~~

Well, it's not obviously sad, but I based it off of an event in my life that was quite hard, and I connected it with this thread. You get a sense of that in the last few lines.

Lastpath glowered at him and poked her head out from behind the tree, her distorted face fully visible. "Yours truly, sir."

"Mooneyes!" Hushpaw cried, running up to his best friend. "I missed you!"

OOC: Thanks. XD

"Hello," she said, a laugh forming itself in her throat. "Name's Lastpath."

"You are?! Nice for you! I'm still stuck in the stupid apprentice's den!" He laughed, purring.

"Don't be formal. It's irritating." Lastpath scratched at her ear. "What's your name?"

"Hm. Hushcloud, I believe," he mewed.

"Who's your sister?" he mewed.

"Well, hello, Mosstail." Lastpath stretched.

"That's great. And your named fit together. Moon and Star," he commented.

"Fine. Nothing groundbreaking's happened, really. Just training and lazing around camp." His eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit at the flash in her eyes.