@rooted-clangen
"Well, hello there, little one."
Mela has always been one to take to children; after being cursed by the gods to be barren for her treason, many hundreds of moons ago, she's had no qualms about taking in orphans. It may be a perpetual problem, actually- Mela's "children" span far and wide across the world they live in. Root is no different. Even though Mela can't remember the name of the now-gone clan (the names of these things and places have faded over her lifetime[s]), she's positive she can raise this little warrior into someone fine. It takes a lot to startle Mela; when she sees the half-consumed bodies of these warriors, she doesn't even blink. Worse has befallen her- worse is attached to her name and legacy. So what else can she do but pick up the kit and bring it back to her den? For the first time in moons, it's barren- no young cats tumbling about over her nest, no newborns settled into the crook of the feathers she's placed. Root is the first, right now. She is not the last; as she grows, so does their family. Mela almost seems to search for them. Their little family starts with just her and Root, and then it grows to a young tom named, simply, "Bright", then Mela grows warm with a she-cat named Whitefang and her small litter of kittens. They're not a clan- just a family, but it feels warm. It feels sweet, in all the perfect kind of ways. Maybe Root asks about her clan once or twice- curiosity streaking her voice, eyes wide and sparkling. She wants heroics; she wants grand stories of the warriors that Whitefang talks about, wants to know about the blood that has carried her this way for years, and maybe Whitefang tells her where Mela cannot, and maybe Root grows confident in the glimmer of these stories. Ambitious, even. Sweet, still, but maybe she wants more. And maybe one day, when Root is grown, and her family is older, she finally bids goodbye to her mothers, her siblings, the molly that took her in when she had nobody but ribcages. Maybe she moves on to finally re-found HymnClan, dig it out of the wreckage that it had become in the years since its demise. Mela is happy to watch from the sidelines- maybe, she even considers trying to find her way back here one day, when she is younger once more, and stake out her own place beside her daughter. You see, the thing about being cursed by the Gods, is that it can also be a blessing- endless opportunities to retry, to pursue a life you let rest in favor of something else. For now, though, this is good. StarClan's favored, raised by the Traitor of Gods. How sweet.
