days move slow [C]

Today was warm. Many days were, lately-- and really, to say “warm” was a severe downplay. The temperatures were absolutely miserable, especially at the height of the day. Rowansong had never once been grateful for losing the fantastical life he was meant to have ahead of him… but under this heat, he managed to feel something close to it. He was not beholden to the patrols others had to labor through under the heat of the day. He could shelter in the shade of his den (which was a lonely space to be) until the hours grew cooler. That or he could spend his day down by the inlet that ran around their island camp, keeping his pads cool in the shallows.

It was not really better than patrolling and training apprentices and associating with his Clanmates the way he should have been rather than as an elder. But it was… it was something. And he had to take something where he could find it.

Rowansong was just returning from the bank when turning around revealed to him that Poppystar had taken up a position near the fresh-kill pile. So many things had happened to RiverClan in such a short time and he did not have as much time to talk to her anymore as he did when he was younger. He thought, briefly, of everyone he’d lost whom he should have talked to more and his heart squeezed a bit in his chest. Rowansong carried himself over to where she sat and butted his head against her ribs when he was close.

”Mama,” he said, a purr rumbling in his throat. There had been a damper over him that seemed permanent ever since the wolves, and especially so after Perchstar’s passing when he’d just begun to find himself again--but he was in better spirits now. Rowansong had remembered some of his liveliness. Tipping his head to the side, he chattered on, ”Did I catch you at a good time? You had better not be busy!” Humor made his eyes squint up. ”Because it has simply been too long since we were able to sit together. I would greatly appreciate the time.”