LAMENT | periwinklebreeze



The smell of milk and blood pressed against Sootspot's nostrils as he moved past the Nursery, the inhabitants of DuskClan's attack barely offered a second glance. A larger cat, better suited to fighting could've ended the conflict before it began, but the chimera didn't find himself mourning the limitations of his own body anymore - it had become a weapon of survival, a way for moor-runners to underestimate him and tunnelers to appreciate the speed of which he could traverse the underground. No one on the enemy's side had spared the tom a second glance in battle, he was no threat, for that, he moved freely across the camp, marred only by the scabbing wound on his face left by a ShadowClanner days prior. Other WindClanners couldn't say the same, some hadn't walked away at all. Peri's figure was a withering form in WindClan's camp, the same as it had always been in the Tunneler's eyes, but this time, Sootspot paused to look at them. It was easy to say justice had been served, a mother for a sister, but the smug satiation revenge offered was woefully absent from Sootspot's heart. Nightingalecry had been no friend, but in the end, she was hardly the enemy her brother had become.

He tilted his head at shared memories of their apprenticeship, looked to the sky, then, looked back to the Queen. Small paws moved Sootspot closer to the Lead Warrior, his head craned high with a pride that had often come with interacting with the 'lesser' apprentices. 'I'm like you.' It sickened him how many lies of being WindClan's greatest clanborn were spread at the time of his birth when the truth was that he was half-rogue, half-the-brute that usurped his future throne. 'But... I'm still better. I'll prove I'm better. I'll do something you never did for me.' What was that, exactly? The answer came when Sootspot opened his mouth. "I have come to offer my condolesces." His head bowed in sympathy, the chartreuse eyes of the tom sneaked a glance at Periwinkle's fangs, wondering how many times now they had been coated in red. "Losing kin... is not easy. My ears are yours, should you have need of them." Envy gripped his claws and threatened to unsheathe them, but, with a heavy mourning in the air, he found himself able to keep his composure. 'At least you can bury your littermate.'

@Periwinklebreeze.
 
PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS
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periwinklebreeze 23 moons demi-boy windclan queen
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Periwinklebreeze comes out of the battle, shockingly, unscathed.

He'd nearly killed someone, and yet he hardly a scratch uponh im - a few scuffs and bruises sure, but even those had been of his own making. In truth, the queen is still stunned by this fact. Nightingalecry had died, and he had lived - without even a scar to show for it. He almost... wishes he had been hurt. Surely, then, this would at least feel more real, instead of a nightmare he can't seem to wake from. Or perhaps, it really was all a dream - another restless night filled with sleep deprived thoughts.

Eyes blink slowly, dully at Sootspot for a moment - as though he can't quite understand what is happening. And then brain catches up to reality, ever so slowly, and he nods. There's something about the tunnelers presence - his words - that tugs on his brain, but for the moment he can only manage a terribly tired " Thank you, "

And then it catches up to him, what has been left unsaid - a reminder that Hyacinthbreath and Moonshadow and Bluepool are far from the only empty graves in windclans graveyard. A sister, he thinks, reminded suddenly of the only of Sootstars kin he'd never truly cared to interact with. Jaws part again, slowly - words stiff " Thank you, " he echoes again, and this time he means it. Another pause, another quiet murmur. " I'm... s-sorry. Th-that you have f-felt this... this pain, " he admits. Loss of life has never been something he's cared for - wanted, save for a few 'exceptions'.

Eyes move slowly away from the toms face, because in truth Periwinklebreeze fears what he might find there. What Sootspot might find in his own. Things had seemed so... simple, just a few moons ago. He'd watched Sunstride lead another rebellion, another exile, and all he'd thought was 'I can't stand by again'. Followed not out of loyalty, but out of destiny - or so he'd thought at least. And in the end, he'd chosen the winning side - become a lead warrior under Sunstar. Windclan had been blessed with a bountiful newleaf for their suffering - until they hadn't.

Fire. Battle. Loss.

A new Windclan under a new leader, and yet somehow life remains just the same painful wreck he remembers it to be. " Do you... d-do you ever g-g-get tired of it all? " he asks quietly - blinking. He's not sure why he speaks - why he asks. Only that he can no longer keep quiet, moons of uncertainty and confusion at last bubbling to the surface.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​
Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​
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There was a flutter in his chest at Periwinkle's gratitude, not for doing the right thing, but instead for being praised for doing the right thing. It had felt like a strong start to the conversation, until his own wounds were mentioned and Sootspot fell silent. Periwinklebreeze looked away and the tom's expression dropped like a boulder in the gorge, a tranquil fury grasping at strands of logic within his head. 'You're not sorry. You caused it.' Cats like him had put the idea in Shrikethorn's head, that she could rebel and live, that she could be a hero. Then, instead of apologies, the seal point had offered fire and blood, the destruction of all the chimera had thought he held dear. He would have been angrier with the Lead Warrior, had the chase for his mother's approval not been revealed as a lie by Granitepelt. She never would've accepted him, but now, all he had left were the cravens and cut-throats that would've let the secret die with Sootstar. When he's certain the partial gaze of Periwinkle is back upon him, his sympathetic smile returns as naturally as breathing, eyes widening attentively as he listened to what the other had to say.

Do you ever get tired of it all? His tongue ran across his teeth in thought, his tail swaying to and fro with each new consideration. "Sootstar got tired of it all. The betrayal, the death, the sickness... and look where she ended up: the Mad Queen, shunned by StarClan and slain by her own Deputy." 'And you.' Sunstar may have been the executioner, but Periwinklebreeze had been the justiciar, rewarded handsomely for going against his moral decency. He didn't doubt such prizes had awoken a monster in his former friend, one that could tell him he could do whatever he wanted. If only Sootspot had acted out instead, perhaps the scar upon his chest would still hold the authority it once did. "I, for one, try not to carry so many graves upon my back. Pain is inevitable, it is what we do with said pain that matters." The chimera gave the scarred queen a once-over, jaw set with tension. "I will not succumb to mine. I doubt Nightingalecry would want you to give up either."