W A S P S I G H T
A calico feline sat by his lonesome, his head turned upwards towards the night sky. But he wasn't staring at the stars. His eyes were closed, his ears were pricked forward, as if he were listening intently for something. And he was, truly. The whispers and words of those that only reached his ears. The words of the spirits and ancestors that whispered to him, told him their worries, gave him advice and spoke to him in ways they spoke to no other. He listened to every one of them. And every night, he sat here. Alone. His evenings, he would spend taking in the concerns of the dead. Waspsight took it all in as his one and only burden. For he was the only one that would truly hear their voices. He would whisper back to them, alleviate their worries and soothe their souls.
Waspsight opened his eyes. Quietly, he got to his paws. Normally, by now he would call it a night and return to his nest for some sleep, but tonight, he had a different matter to attend to.
The healer and spiritual medium made his way to the mouth of the leader's den. He paused for but a heartbeat, his mind returning to memories of Smokestar, of Juncostar, and of Mercuryrose... He had lived through more than one figurehead in his life and he mourned the loss of each one of them. But now, it was his duty to nurture the spirituality of his latest leader, Ravenstar.
He invited himself into the den and stopped near the mouth of the tom's nest. "Ravenstar," He quietly spurred the young tom awake, "I'm sorry to awaken you, but it's important. Would you join me, please?"
