how the moons go by [closed]

She was surely surprised that no one had come to stop her on her journey towards the Sunningrocks. The elder adamantly professed her desire to bake on the warm stones once more before she joined her ancestors in the stars. She ignored the quiet laughs and disingenuous 'sure's she earned in response. As much as she felt respected for her service towards the clan, the she-cat felt ridiculed and pitied. Her injury had brought on relaxation from the forest that she had once longed for. Yet it caged her and left her in a small pit of loneliness only her sister and two living kits could quell after the first moon of rest.

Mistfeather was tired of her life as the poor, injured elder. Her legs were stiff and aching from moons spent sitting in her den alone. Her muscles groaned each time she rose from the moss to grab water or food, only to be ushered back into her spot by some eager young apprentice who rushed around camp doing his duty to help her with everything and anything. The tabby wondered how long it would be before Fishstar sent someone in just to help her breath. She was tired and fed up.

Newleaf finally came for the silver she-cat as she carried herself out of the den and into the bright sun. Most cats were out patrolling, hunting, sunbathing, or stuffing their faces in the fresh-kill pile. Camp was too busy to notice the greying cat almost drag herself out of their walls and into the territory.

While the journey was harsh on her weak paws, her mind was so set on her destination to pay any heed to her body's cries. Determination pushed her across the Twoleg bridge, down the border of ThunderClan, and onto the scorching heat that was the Sunningrocks. Mistfeather let out a huge sigh of relief as her pelt met the rocks. "I've missed this," she purred, rubbing her scarred face on the ground. It felt like a lifetime since she had last been here.