The Sound of her Pawsteps
Enjoy this little piece I wrote in memory of Brightshard.
Brightshard listened. It was what she did. She couldn’t conjure tidal waves, throw fire, or kill with a touch.
She heard Brightfalcon bemoaning her own worthlessness, but refrained from commenting. No cat was worthless.
She heard Egretshell playing in the rain when he thought no one was looking. He was right, but sight isn’t the only sense.
She heard Stormrush teasing her brother and heard the eye roll in Bushmask’s response. She heard the way the ash crunched under Nightingaletree’s feet after a battle, and the way that Shadestar prayed to StarClan at night to keep her Clan safe.
But most of all, Brightshard heard Skydawn.
Brightshard heard her comforting Brightfalcon and splashing water at Egretshell. She heard her praising Bushmask and tussling with Stormrush. She heard the way that Skydawn looked up to Nightingaletree, and how she always stood at Shadestar’s shoulder.
But beneath it, Brightshard heard the way Skydawn’s insecurity leached through her calm demeanor. She heard the sobs that Skydawn tried to stifle when she dreamt of death by her paws. She heard the darkness behind the dawn. And she loved it all.
Brightshard knew that her odds were poor. She knew her role. She wasn’t the best fighter or a powerful leader. She wasn’t the beating heart of the Clan.
But maybe she could be the silent support, the oxygen fueling the pulse. If Skydawn would let her.
So when she heard Skydawn approaching, heard the hesitant, steady, and gentle rhythm of her paws against the ground, Brightshard decided to ask.
Will you let me stand beside you? Will you let me love you? Will you let my heartbeat match yours?
That day, Brightshard decided that she had heard the most beautiful thing she ever would. It was a single word, but filled with all the love and joy that Brightshard had hoped for, and more.