the rest is confetti [c]

The clan was meant to be healing with the new season. The plague had fizzled out, the beasts left behind at the lake, and new generations of warriors had risen to fill RiverClan’s ranks. But stars, her heart hurt. Though she hadn’t been very loud, without Milk, the camp felt so much emptier, so much quieter. And despite Newleaf’s arrival, colder. The aftermath of the war, too, drained Harebounce of her strength. RiverClan’s casualties had been minimal, at the cost of several ThunderClanner’s lives, as well as the alliance in and of itself. She wasn’t… she’d never been the sort to think on the political implications of events, but now her clan’s isolated camp on their island felt more than literal. It didn’t feel like a war won.

It wasn’t that she was unwilling to talk about everything that had happened. The words simply vanished before they reached her tongue. Nothing could describe it. She could hardly piece the thoughts together for her own sake, to sort through her own feelings. A soft voice pulled the older she-cat from her stasis, drawing her eyes up and through the face of her fresh, white-furred hare pelt.  It too brought up feelings that she struggled to parse. “You’re too kind, Poppyshine,” her voice came as a crackle that she then cleared her throat against. “Thank you, but I’ll be alright. I’m not hungry.” That much was true, but she couldn’t be sure if the answer to Poppyshine’s question was ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The days blended into each other now. “Have you eaten? You do so much every day, I worry that you aren’t taking time for yourself. Stay and rest awhile, won’t you? If you run around so much you'll go hairless!” How ironic that the both of them were hiding their own grief for the other's sake.