Redwoods – Book 1 – Chapter 3
“You can’t see past the worst-case scenario, and that’s only going to do you harm. You have wonderful potential, if only you could learn to put your worries to rest.”
“You can’t see past the worst-case scenario, and that’s only going to do you harm. You have wonderful potential, if only you could learn to put your worries to rest.”
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.
Making his way to the edge of the schoolyard to watch the mist and the trees through the chain-link fence, Leroy found himself fixating on an old fire lookout tower and pondering it until the bell rang.
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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.
The lake had turned a much colder temperature than Peggy considered swimmable, so here she was with her girlfriend sitting in a kiddie pool with several cans of soda and miscellaneous other snacks, pretending that they were able to actually throw a pool party. It must’ve been a strange sight; two grown women sitting in a comically small pool with their knees pulled up to their chests, like something out of a cartoon. “I’m not ready for summer to be…