camp all this could've been avoided - open

Oct 15, 2023
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Time had run out, and there was no concealing the evident signs of his impending parenthood. The Lead Warrior's cold demeanor cast a pervasive attention toward the patchy feline. It felt as though countless eyes were fixed upon him from every direction. Once the swell of his stomach and the discomfort in his movements became apparent, he was instructed to refrain from his usual duties. Sequestered within the warriors' den, Harbingermoon tossed and turned, unable to find solace in sleep. The ambitious cat found himself in a state of pure anguish. His desires to vent his frustrations to the stars were hindered by his limited ability to move beyond the confines of his own nest. Harbingermoon faced this situation alone, with no Medicine Cat to offer guidance, and the father of his soon-to-arrive kits seemingly disinterested in their past liaison. His pride and greed had paved the way for this situation, and he doubted the hulking Lead Warrior was aware, given the latter's adept evasion whenever Harbingermoon caught a hint of him in recent moons.

As Sootstar prepared to depart for the Barn, Hollowcreek would inevitably be present, given the recent turmoil caused by traitors. Alone and coiled within himself, Harbingermoon resembled a ballooned raven splattered with white. His orange eyes remained hidden under heavy lids, glaring daggers at nothing in particular. Refusing proper nourishment, he snapped at any cat offering help, driving away those who crossed his path. Wolfsong's words enveloped him like a suffocating smog, the denial of his title felt like claws in his throat, and the knowledge that Venomstrike wouldn't face his ire served as a sickening poison. Harbingermoon struggled to comprehend the joy in childbirth, and he couldn't fathom why so many cats continued to pester him, knowing they lacked the skills to alleviate his suffering. The failure to capture Cottonfang dealt a blow to the clan's already dwindling numbers. Facing the impending birth alone, he questioned why he should open up when so many had left him to struggle, echoing the abandonment he felt from his family.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts from the entrance of the den. Hollowcreek. Fear, cold and wicked, caused his fur to spike, and he found himself floundering, coiling in on himself. He prayed that the tabby would depart, leaving him to face his predicament in peace, unseen in such a vulnerable state. Go away. Go away. Please. Harbingermoon wasn't ready for this, and he doubted he ever truly would be.


☾ OOC

This thread is temporarily private! @hollowcreek time for the disastrous reveal.

**Thread is now open!​
 
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( ) The retreat from the barn had left his mood in the gutter. Gravelsnap had been too easy of a target, he should have known to take on a cat worth his claws. Letting himself get distracted with kicking off the apprentices that couldn't tell the difference between their tails and bulrushes. It had been a mess from the beginning. It had been a failure, and he was ready to throw himself into his nest and forget this one loss. They would win the war, in the end.

"Does anyone know if those kits have been fed?" He glanced around at his remaining Clanmates, eager to throw himself into something other than the fact they had to retreat. He didn't wait for an answer before pushing his muzzle through the gorse, stopped after the first step the moment he saw speckled fur.

Hollowcreek hadn't look Harbingermoon's way much after he had been rejected. They hadn't even shared a word with one another and Snakehiss must have picked up on it when they hadn't shared any patrols together. Or it could have been the fact that he purposefully tuned out of anything his former infatuation was involved with.

"What are you doing in here?" Hollowcreek sounded in disbelief despite the clear evidence that lay in front of him. The first words he shared with the tom in several weeks, yet he only regretted continuing to not say anything at all.
( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )
 
With nowhere to hide and a familiar yellow gaze staring down his backside, the ebony tom knew it was time to confess. Still, nerves rattled him to the core as memories of their messy separation resurfaced. A moment most couples would find joyous, tainted with ugliness and his own nonsensical stubbornness. The worst being the way his heart still fluttered from their presence alone. Slowly, he rose on shaky legs from his disheveled nest, breath hitching as emotions strangled him. The Lead Warrior did not want to turn and face the tom he'd grown to care for, to tell them of his current stature. Given their cruel severance, there would surely be a number of questions and accusations thrown his way, and Harbingermoon was already open and raw. At last, trembling paws moved, and his hefty frame turned, except his orange gaze stuck to the floor—a silent refusal to make direct contact with eyes that would surely make him choke with regret.

Inhaling and exhaling, he prepared himself and steeled the writhing feelings digging from within like claws in flesh. His voice came in a low and hushed volume, his battered frame a pitiful sight to behold. "Resting." The smell of blood registered to the tuxedo, and he snapped to attention, a flicker of worry slipping through his hold. When he finally looked upon the hulking tom, his fears were quickly alleviated; it seemed the stench was of his opponents, not their own. The relief is short-lived as he was forced to see into the face he'd been trying to hide from. Swallowing back the rivers worth of apologies sitting at the tip of his tongue, he practically blurted out the obvious. "I'm pregnant. T-They're yours, Hollowcreek." He froze in place, unable to move, let alone comprehend the gravity of his admittance.

Words the tufted feline had feared so horribly were finally laid out bare before them both. I missed you. I'm sorry. Hold me like you used to. The thoughts came and went, but the urge to bring them into fruition did not leave him. He desperately wanted to push his head into the familiar mane of fur wreathed around Hollowcreek's chest, to regain a sense of normalcy and comfort with the one cat who had never seen him as anything more than someone to be loved. Harbingermoon did not wish to know what the fellow Lead thought of him now, being found in such an unkempt state.

OOC
Thread is still private!
 
( ) Hollowcreek's impatience bubbled as white-patched fur moved at a snails pace. The Lead warrior hauled himself like he was carrying the sky on his shoulders and at one point he would have believed it. But their time had come to a gruesome, ugly end and the tabby found it too easy to wear it on his face. Every time he caught the slightest glance or fleeting thought of his former friend caused his muzzle to pull and wrinkle in a grimace.

Resting, he says, and what followed had the tom sputtering in disbelief. Forceful- he refused to believe, to even entertain the idea that he could have shared spawn with who stood across him. He kept the seedling of truth to just that, keeping his disdain and doubt at large to protect himself from feeling what he did not want to. He did not want to rejoice at this news, he did not want to reignite the feelings he had at an attempt for a loving family.

Harbingermoon had torn apart anything loving from him. He would not ever know the sensation of care and love again.

"They're not mine. They're nothing." Hollowcreek hissed back, already beginning to step away. "Tell yourself what you must if it makes you feel better, but keep me out of it. Find another fool to play with." His words hurt to say just as much as he can imagine it feels for Harbingermoon to hear. In his stubbornness, his heartbreak still tender and he did what he knew best. Continuing to dig the knife further into this, sabotaging any chance that what they had was salvageable.
( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )