You’re leaving the path.

There hardly is a path, anymore, but the reverse of a memory. How long has he wandered along it, watching its edges blur? Today, they blurred too much.

Tawnyapple felt the cool dirt beneath his chin, his paws, the rest of his limp body. What had been another day of moving towards his goal ended less firmly than previous nights. When had he fallen? When the sun was straight above? Only just before, when it began to sink beneath the trees? It didn’t matter so much.

The tom’s eyes cracked, going along with a long, exhausted breath.

Cats stood before him. Familiar. They didn’t have eyes, yet stared at him with expressions clear as day: judgment, regret, dislike. Hope.

“I’m coming,” He murmured to the one that stood tallest, the one that was welcoming him with a much softer, blank face of dirt, tail raised high. “I’m coming, I promise..”

—

Some GoldBloods stuff. I’ve had this 95% done in my WIP folder since December! Tawnyapple is mine.

The PSD of this illustration is available to my $10+ Patreon patrons:
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