Between Bruises & Blooms

You did not
just leave them.

That would have
been bad enough.

You divided them.

Four kits.

Four little bodies
who had already
lost their father.

Four siblings
who should have
at least had
each other.

And you scattered them
like grief
was somehow easier
when everyone
carried it alone.

One here.

One there.

Different nests.

Different mothers.

Different Clans.

As if blood
could simply
forget itself
because StarClan
had a plan.

No.

Fuck that.

They had already
lost Micah.

Then they lost you.

And then
you made them
lose each other too.

I know
you were grieving.

I know
you were overwhelmed.

I know
the story wanted
your decision
to become tradition.

But I cannot
romanticize
a mother
breaking her children
into pieces
because she could not
hold them all.

Those kits
did not need
a prophecy.

They needed
their mother.

They needed
their siblings.

They needed
one familiar heartbeat
beside them
after everything
had already changed.

Instead,
they were scattered
across the forest

and everyone
called it necessary.

Maybe that
is what makes me
so angry.

Not just
that you left.

Not just
that you gave them away.

But that you looked
at four grieving siblings

and decided
even their love
for each other
had to be sacrificed.

Fucking hell,
Moth Flight.

You could have
at least
let them stay together.