private AS THE SUN'S LIGHT TO THE MOON ✿ blazestar

[DOEBLAZE]

the moon is a swollen silver globe where it hangs in the sky, ever-present. that moon has seen her through hill and valley, over rivers and peaks, through forests and fields. the sky has always been a grounding thing for her—on late nights during the journey, unable to sleep, she would look to it. knowing that leagues away, blazestar was watched by the same pale rays, soothed her heart. the knowledge that they were still connected by the gossamer strands of moonlight was what gave her the strength to sleep.

it watches her now as she steps, doe-legged on sore paws, across skyclan's camp under the watchful eyes of the stars. moons ago, she'd made this trek on hesitant paws—after untold miles, it feels no less intimidating. the thick scent of elderberry and pine washes over her as she approaches the verdant bush with its glossy leaves, no longer dripping with flowers as it had on that hot night so long ago. bobbie inhales, the air feeling thick as pinesap, green eyes glinting against a canvas of tired lines etched over many days.

she steps furtively for some reason, as though she'll be caught like a mischievous kit—which is especially ridiculous given her freshly bestowed rank. disbelief still ices her heart like mountain snow, but bobbie exhales slowly and stops outside of the gap in the elderberry leaves, waiting. for what, she doesn't know; perhaps listening to see if instinct calls her away. she has no good reason to come here in the night, but she finds she doesn't care, and she isn't sorry for it. he makes her careless. she's always known this, and she suspects she always will.

bobbie stands with one milk-white paw half-lifted, searching herself. why is she here? she isn't sure, standing outside blazestar's den with no collar and new scars on her back. her heart, awoken from a long slumber, murmurs something secretive and tempting. she knows how she feels about him, now, and the icy mountain winds had whipped away any bitterness. the feeling is both tooth-achingly sweet and as dangerous as a flame, ever tempting her to do something she might regret. if she goes in there, will she say something she can never take back?

"blazestar?" she calls, eerily reminiscent of a scorching night in the belly of green-leaf, when she was a different cat. the tabby steps forward, fire catching in her chest, uncaring of what she might say. six times over she has escaped death, six times she thought of dying moons away. many more times she thought of little wolf and hailstorm, tragically in love, confessions coming all too late. "it's bobbie. could—could i come in?"

only the sun has come this close ✿ ( only the sun )

• @BLAZESTAR !!

• 

• 

  bobbie ; warrior of skyclan
  x. she/her ; 42 moons ; tags
  x. small, scarred lilac tabby and white she-cat with green eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  x. mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, and drowsypaw.

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Her voice rouses him from a sleep he relishes leaving. Blazestar hears the whisper of her paws against the earth, her fur swishing against the elderberry bush that guards the mouth of his den. He stirs from dreams of snow, of blood, and lifts his head wearily to see her. Outlined by burning silver moonlight, she stands alone, a mimicry of the shyer she-cat he’d known before. This time, when she speaks, hushed, it’s with an underlying confidence he had never known her to possess. “It’s Bobbie. Could—could I come in?”

Blazestar closes his eyes. His tongue feels odd, cold, like he’s licking frost from another cat’s fur, and there’s a trembling quality to his voice when he bids her, “Come in.” There’s a throaty quality to the whisper. It resounds throughout his den and spills into the velvet darkness of the night behind her.

Before she has the opportunity to come too far, Blazestar will close his eyes and inhale the scent that fills his den. It’s changed, he realizes. There’s the piney spice she’s come to carry because of SkyClan, but overlaid are unfamiliar and troubling scents. Marsh, bitter and cool; the achingly familiar tang of the oak forest’s undergrowth; the river, clear and salty; the moors, open and peaty. Lastly, there’s the scent that he believes haunts his dreams, his waking hours, too—the mountain air, sharp, biting into his nostrils with cold teeth.

The place Little Wolf rests, forever.

“Bobbie,” he murmurs. He opens his eyes, and he drinks her in, the curl in her pale tabby fur, the flecks of snow scattered throughout her coat. He whispers, and it’s scandalously loud in the dark: “Will you—will you share my nest tonight?”

, ”​

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[DOEBLAZE]

his voice is throaty, low, as furtive as she feels, creeping into his den. her pulse is weighty in her throat, a lightning-fast thrum under the silvered moon, as though every drop of blood in her veins reaches for him. the mountains, the blood, the death, are as far away to her mind as they are to her body. all she knows is the heavy midnight smell of elderberry and juniper, undertones of the spicy pine-scent they all wear, a fragrance that leaves her heart a straining beast against her ribs. all she knows is deep blue eyes, golden fur traced in stray moonlight, the thinly spun silence between them in which she can hear every breath.

bobbie steps into the den, watching him, like a second sun brought to earth. golden fur, glowing even under the blackened sky, drawing her in like the spilling warmth of greenleaf. setting her alight, kindling the fire nestled beneath her new scars and pressing against her chest. his voice is low, carrying on the velvet night, its very whispered quality turning sordid in the darkness. will you share my nest tonight?

in the silence until she replies, they will both hear her next breath—taken sharply in, feeling thick as the smell of pinesap and mountain frost in the air. such a simple question, and yet so dangerous, pulling those unspoken words up from her throat like wildflowers under snow. fire scorching her ribs, blazing in green eyes, she whispers, "yes."

when she moves forward, it's hesitantly, as though asking permission, as though offering a prayer. she folds herself into his nest, soft moss and soft fur an unfamiliar respite after moons of sleeping on rock and grass and snow. and oh, this is what she'd missed without knowing it, the warm golden fur cushioning her own compact form, elderberry and juniper thick in her nose. they fit together like two old trees grown together, lilac pressed to flame, twisted by tragedy. it feels unfamiliar, the press of another's pelt, after moons of lonely nights, but most of all it feels right.

"i—i missed you," she murmurs, an offering to keep more dangerous words at bay. she thinks of their first meeting under the holly bush, of hushed words in the medicine den, of herself bent over his bloodied body. she thinks of his muzzle fitting against hers, of the last time she'd slunk into his den, those same words unspoken on her breath. finally she lets them free, "every—every obstacle, every danger, all of it. every time i faltered, i thought of you." bobbie's voice is a low rasp, choked with emotion. a beat, and she murmurs, "you make me careless."

only the sun has come this close ✿ ( only the sun )

• 

• 

  bobbie ; lead warrior of skyclan
  x. she/her ; 42 moons ; tags
  x. small, scarred lilac tabby and white she-cat with green eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  x. mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, and drowsypaw.

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar can sense her hesitation in the sharp pull of her breath, but she whispers, “Yes.” It’s almost haunting in the darkness spanning between them. He fears to look in her direction as she creeps toward the nest he has slept in alone for almost a complete cycle of seasons. Every movement Bobbie makes toward him is one like an insect suspended in honey. Her sweet amber prison leaves her suspended—until she reaches him, and he can feel the warmth of her breath upon his whiskers. Her scent is sharper, curling like woodsmoke into his nostrils, and he nearly coughs in his rush to inhale it.

The sensation of her pelt pressing against his is almost too much to bear. It has been so long, so long, and the last time—the last time he’s dared get this close to another, it had ended in tragedy—but he finds himself curling around her, tail drifting protectively to draw her nearer. This has been a long time coming. Had StarClan seen this? Had they known, then, that the two lost souls in the holly would be driven here by desperation, by grief, by indescribable emotion?

Blazestar almost gasps—her touch sears him, but he does not pull away. Tears dampen his eyes, but he does not pull away.

He reaches for the top of her head with his muzzle, and even still, he waits…and he waits…

“I—I missed you,” she confesses, and he feels himself melt just slightly. It’s like a wildfire has fanned awake in his core, and its intensity not only frightens him, but drives him toward the cliff named guilt. Little Wolf would not get this chance—her new mate’s nest remains cold, doesn’t it?

But he is selfish, selfish. He rests his chin, tentatively, on the top of Bobbie’s head, letting himself meld to her small figure. “I worried about you every moment you were gone,” he says, his voice shaking. “And I used every spare word I had at night to pray for your return.” He sinks closer to her, until his muzzle is somewhere among the soft, fragrant fur around her throat. “I don’t want you careless. I want you safe—I want you with me… I want you whole, and beautiful, as you are—”

His instincts beg him to draw away, but he does not. He thinks of his last goodbye. He thinks about finality.

“I want you to be my mate. I want you here, so I can never let you go.”

, ”​

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[DOEBLAZE]

bobbie feels herself drawn closer, a fluffy tail curling around her smaller shape. there's vulnerability built into the motion of being swept against him, a vulnerability she hasn't felt for moons. one she hasn't allowed herself to feel, for fear of it being snatched away. at least not so completely, surely, but in a thousand smaller moments reaching up to this one. her muzzle pressing against his cheek like it was meant to be, the bitter vine choking her chest at their goodbye, the scars dancing down her side when she had run to him so thoughtlessly. but she's always known this, hasn't she? that he makes her careless, that he makes her selfish.

guilt and grief and love are a desperate fire in her chest, consuming all they can find, set aflame by the rays of the sun she'll always follow. it's a warmth she's denied herself for far, far too long, and she drinks the sight, the scent, the sound of him in greedily. both of them meeting so many turns of the moon ago, both lost and looking for something that had left long ago. desperation and so many days with only the moon to share leaves that great fire to drown out the guilt, the thought of little wolf and hailstorm separated by endless distance.

"i...." his words are shaking, muffled by the soft fur of her throat, aching with heartache and truth. tears bead at the corners of her eyes, swell and spill, emotion clogging her throat. how can she describe this feeling? how can she ever tell him in something as simple as words? time is beautifully still now, under the moon and the scent of elderberry, so she tries. "yes—yes, more times than i can say," bobbie whispers, warmth spreading down to white-dipped paws. "you're all i want, all i ever wanted. before i knew anything else to love in this forest, i loved you."

"i never want to leave again. i never want to say goodbye to you again." her voice is choked with tears and emotion no words can express. "i would follow you to the place where the sun drowns, i would follow you across the mountains before i said goodbye." tears turning her voice to a rasp, she manages it, loses the battle she'd been fighting without knowing. "i love you."

only the sun has come this close ✿ ( only the sun )

• 

• 

  bobbie ; lead warrior of skyclan
  x. she/her ; 42 moons ; tags
  x. small, scarred lilac tabby and white she-cat with green eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  x. mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, and drowsypaw.

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

It’s the way she answers him, as though she’s stunned, that give him pause. The way her words tremble—stars, she seems so delicate, but he knows the truth now, doesn’t he? That though there is such tenderness to her, there is strength beneath the softness. “Yes—yes, more times than I can say,” she whispers back to him, and Blazestar’s whiskers tremble with his smile. He rests his muzzle against the white-streaked fluff at her face. “I loved you as soon as I saw you for who you were,” he murmurs. “Even then, I could see how determined you were, how fierce. You, my LionClan warrior.”

She tells him she never wants to leave him again, and he tightens his tail around them both, feeling like the stars themselves are blooming between them. Blazestar moves to nudge the tears away from her cheeks, the gesture feather-soft. “I will never make you chase me so far. As long as you’ll have me, I am yours, Bobbie.” He melts into her confession, her declaration, and returning it is simultaneously the most difficult and the easiest thing he’s ever done: “I love you, too.”

, ”​

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