CONTENT WARNING: Referenced genocide
“Child,” her grandmother’s voice echoed in her head, “For every Troll they have killed, every sin they have committed, we will kill twice as many humans. One day, you will be there to see what a world clean of their carnage looks like.”
CONTENT WARNING: Blood and injury
Helgi could feel the way it weakened bit by bit with every breath, fading from his tail and underbelly like the sunset into night. His body was dulling it to conserve the energy it burnt, vital to keeping him alive through his injuries. He watched with intent blue eyes the same color as the borealis still shifting above him. The earth around him smelled like soil and pine needles and metal.
“Beware the one who will bring down the stars, and trust what grows in the dark.”
CONTENT WARNING: Mentioned suicide, survivor’s guilt
Surrounded by dark pines, it seemed like the gates of a unique heaven had opened up above the quartet, beckoning them in.
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Ravenpaw was weighed down by rocks of guilt. Her sister’s bird swooped above her head, wheeling above the thick ferns as they guided her back to Redwoodclan’s camp, but she could hardly find it in herself to look. She hadn’t meant to cause any trouble for the calico, she swore, but this was what she got for being a fool. She’d let the person who was quite possibly the coolest cat ever down. It’d been ages since she stood next…
CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of murder and genocide, coercion
Talons clicking against the marble flooring of the palace, Tomten navigated his way through the columns and corridors with a practiced sort of grace, one developed by the time he’d spent serving the queen and likewise the kingdom. Like well-worn migration patterns, the flooring felt familiar under his talons – almost comforting in the face of the dark clouds of emotion that often hung around the palace, namely in the form of stress. Today’s tension was so palpable that it may as well have been a storm.
CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of genocide
Teaching Ravenpaw to hunt turned out to be far more difficult than Chirpbreeze ever could’ve imagined. The black blur through the trees did not appear to understand “slow down” or “stop.” It was like chasing shadows blown about in the wind. She envied how easily Mew cruised along just a tail length or so above her, feathers brushing lightly against the ferns that covered the ground. “Ravenpaw! Ravenpaw!” Stars above, if that kid had a hunting accident like she’d had…
Her voice rang clear as bells across the landscape, as melodic and confident as Finner’s music, beautiful and haunting as kulning ringing over the fields and mountains.