Technically, Houndheart faded to the back and didn't really die upon my leave from the site. When I heard Dacedream died, I was struck with a particular muse for writing this little blurb. Not sure if it can be **officially canon** given the circumstances, but it has been written nonetheless merely of my own desire. Hope you enjoy! For those who know of Houndheart's story... please don't hate me too much for what I have written.
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Dew drops collected across the waxy top of a freshly budded spring leaf. The way it sloped towards the ground and fell without a sound was a peaceful thing. Something so natural and beautiful in it’s simplicity deserved more than a spare glance. Down the narrow bridge of his nose, this was what the tom saw. One might have thought that he had found a hidden truth there, but in reality, he simply hated it.
It was underneath the pale evening sun that he had fled from camp. After pounding his pads on the earth for what seemed like moons, the former deputy found himself not far from the camp when his paw finally gave out. With a frustrated snarl, he had sunk into the earth and found himself here. A soft whistling and chattering of birds caused his ears to twitch with irritation. Nothing seemed to have changed in the forest. Each of these simplicities was aggravating beyond belief. There should have been some rage from the skies, storms that ripped the forest, and rain that told of unspeakable sorrow. But instead there was tranquility and order.
If only he could tear down this entire woodland with claws and teeth, so they could all see the churning torment in his chest.
When the tri-colored tortoiseshell pelt had been laid in the center of camp, whatever strands of sanity stretched through his mind had snapped. The unimaginable thing had happened. It was as if he could only see the broken body of the young and hopeful she-cat who had trotted into their camp at Sparkfrost’s side. Even faced with new surroundings and a whole new life at such a youthful age, the light in her eyes had not dimmed not even for a second; they hadn’t even dulled as he mocked her, no, instead they shown with an admiration he had fought to understand for seasons. Now, they were as lifeless and cold as the fur that stretched her frame. The scene was so surreal, for a moment, Houndheart had checked the earth under paw. And when he slowly padded to the side of the she-cat who had bore his kits, and managed to stay at his side all this time, he could hardly bring himself to press his nose to her. Instead, he could only stare.
Cats gathered near, the tale of her demise was sung from another’s mouth. Who? He hadn’t cared to see. All that mattered was it was Starclan who had tried to take her from him. And succeeded. At this, he snarled and snapped at any cat that came near. How many times had he heard his clanmates praise the voices of the long-dead ancestors above? Oakstar himself had spouted praise and devotion to those fox-dungs so many times. With heaving sides, he’d taken flight, and ended up here.
Whatever happened next, he seemed to not care. Staring at the collection of water in it’s constant cycle, he willed it with every fiber of his being to stop. Houndheart wanted to crush the leaf but found what fire had burned within him had vanished. There was a flicker of a futile effort as he struggled to his paws but it ended as his chin awkwardly struck the earth and he fell once more. Without realizing it himself at first, his paws began to shake, and his sides heaved. For the first time in his life, Houndheart wept. Not once had he allowed himself to grieve for things lost, but he had to feel it. If not for himself, for her.
Claws sunk into the earth, tearing it apart, seeking some semblance of grounding. Nothing helped. There had been a hole created in the only remaining kit who had been born to Ridgelight and Beartooth. As he had grown, it had expanded and resided with the many trials he had faced. It was Mossbloom, Duskrain, and Dacedream who had filled the gaping void that had tore into him at birth. Everything else had only served to worsen his piddling mind.
Beartooth’s death had been seared into his mind, as much as he had fought to dispel it. Duskrain’s presence had ceased to be something of pure comfort. And now his very best friend was dead. They’d all pressed their pelts together, meshing the scents, that very morning. How cruel and unusual this StarClan forgive us forest was. His body slumped to the side, legs cascaded in the most defeated way. The only effort he put into movement was tipping his head ever so slightly to reside on his fractured forepaw. Pale eyes which once had churned with defiance were replaced with immeasurable sadness and anguish. The soft sounds of Houndheart’s sobbing began to fade away as he fixed his gaze on a small sliver of the sky above. Those star-brain, filth-pelted fiends likely watched over him now, his own father’s eyes among them.
“You’re nothing but crowfood! Fox-dung pelted mouse-brains who do nothing but sit among the stars and kill the very things you claim to protect. Hiding the murder of my own father was more noble than anything you pathetic creatures have ever done!” The tabby’s dust-coated muzzle twisted as he raged. Once he might have cared about the admission that had parted from his teeth, but his own words hardly filtered through his mind.
“You cursed me from birth.” Now the words were nothing but a mumble, “My own mother left me to die but it was Starclan that made me this way. You filthy scoundrels let Beartooth die, allowed Lichenmask to exist, and StarClan forgive us this forest from the beginning. And now, Dacedream is dead because of you. It’s all your fault. But...” His voice cracked and faded as he looked at the ground, “But it’s my fault I never told Dacedream I loved her.”
For a long time he lay there, mulling over his own words. Every ounce of will had faded from his frame and his head fell to the side. His eyelids fluttered shut. The sounds of the forest were a muted background noise to what swirled about in the tom’s mind. Those oversized ears had fallen back across is head at some point. Even so, he was able to hear the light rustling ahead. Houndheart half-heartedly opened his gaze to catch a glimpse of the russet fur that parted the undergrowth ahead. Rays of sunlight glinted across the lengthy fangs from which saliva dripped. The Thunderclan cat made no motion to move. He almost laughed, but even that would have expended an energy he simply did not possess.
“Mossbloom. I hope you know I loved you too.”
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⌘ Auburnflare // Tier 2 Warrior // Thunderclan // SteelBlue ⌘
✿ Littlesplash // Tier 2 Medicine Cat // Riverclan // MediumAquamarine ✿
⁂ Heatherfrost // Tier 2 Warrior // Windclan // MediumOrchid ⁂
✲ Crabpaw // Apprentice // Shadowclan // FireBrick ✲
☆☆☆ Ask me about my past characters for lore, or Moonstone Journeys. ☆☆☆
