New Horizons

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I took a little journey to the unknown[break]
And I've come back changed I can feel it in my bones

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Yellowstrike knew he should have slept; yet he had a feeling that even if he had tried, sleep would have evaded him. The first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, finding the large tabby tom sitting on the outskirts of RiverClan’s camp clearing.[break][break]

Exhaustion was unmistakably etched upon his facial features as he watched his clan mourn the loss of their leader. Slowly, the cats who gathered began to break away as Whitestar’s vigil was coming to an end. Yellowstrike himself had spent a considerable amount of time sharing tongues for a final time with the feeble, old tom’s form before drawing away to the sidelines. Though he had spent only a few moons as Whitestar’s deputy, he would miss the old tom gravely.[break][break]

Unable to witness it any longer, Yellowstrike turned his head as the clan’s elders approached to remove the body for burial. A sigh escaped his maw as something else caught his attention. Pride stirred in his chest at the sight of Nettleheart stepping out of the medicine den, placing two leaf wraps on the ground, no doubt their traveling herbs for the day.[break][break]

The journey ahead of him was daunting and uncertain, that was for sure. However, he knew he couldn’t ask for a better medicine cat. There was no one he trusted more to give him counsel. Never in a million moons did he fathom that the two of them would be at the helm of RiverClan. It would be an interesting partnership to say the least.[break][break]

Yellowstrike stood up and stretched, grimacing against the sore, stinging pains of his wounds from the prior day’s battle. A deep, ugly scar split his shoulder. Although he was in no condition to walk the distance to the highstones, he knew he must. The sooner he got his nine lives and appointed a deputy, the sooner RiverClan could start to repair.[break][break]

As he padded across the clearing to the medicine den, he stopped briefly to whisper his goodbyes and affections to Dovecloud, giving her a swift lift behind the ears before padding up to join Nettleheart. Yellowstrike prodded the leaf wrap open with his paw, as his lip curled in disgust.[break][break]

”You know, I never did like the taste of these herbs. I suppose that’ll never change,” he mewed flatly, lapping up the contents. Yellowstrike did his best to ignore the bitter taste that assaulted his tongue, hoping the herbs would soon quell the protest of hunger that clawed at his stomach. ”How are you holding up?” He meowed, turning his attention back to his former apprentice.

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-- lost