astronomical — duststorm

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Before he realized, Duskpool had slipped out after Duststorm with a spew of muffled curses, woolly plumage twitchin’ angrily. The cream-hued warrior had been present, tucked away in the nursery when the sight of his brother’s battered form entered the camp, overhearin’ rogues and rushin’ out with angry-tinged hues. The older warrior had barely noticed if it weren’t for the familiar twitch of Duststorm’s tail slipping out of camp when Duskpool pulled away. Damnit, kid.

Where did he think he was going?

The obsidian warrior knew the answer, but foxdung have some common sense. “Duststorm!” He snapped, Voice gravely speaking at the fawn’s hide going rigid, helm whippin’ in a light sneer, but instead of stoppin’ the warrior whipped around, carryin’ on toward the upwalker nests. “Damnit! Duststorm! Quit actin’ like a fool! What do ya think ya can accomplish, huh? Are ya that in a hurry to make Hollywhisper a widow?” He all but snapped, voice a low, guttural thing as anger peaked and dwindled. His breathin’ grew labored, starin’ at the scarred tom’s hide with a conflicted expression.

He knew. Probably more than he dared to admit about the unbindin’ rage coursin’ through yer veins and heart-shatterin’ grief that left one barely makin’ it day by day. Tatteredlight at been part of his family. A son that shone so brightly despite the marks that lined his skin. And so, Duskpool felt a deep sense of guilt thinkin’ about Hollywhisker, but foxdung Duskpool didn’t want him to suffer the way he had. The unmistakable grief that latched onto ya like a parasite, refusin’ to leave till ya come knockin’ on death’s door. Or the regret the dusty-hued warrior would face. “Duststorm.” His voice takin’ on a dangerous tinge, the older warrior veered away, comin’ to a stop in front of the younger warrior, ignorin’ the wrinkled muzzle and bared teeth. “Kid —”

Knowin’ and believin’ were two different things Duskpool discovered early on in life, just as he stood before Duststorm blockin’ his way from the upwalker nests with unwaverin’ conviction, molten pupils slitted knowin’ Duststorm wouldn’t lash out, but believin’ it was a bit more difficult when the dusty-hued tom snarled ( not directed at him, Duskpool knew that for certain ), lungin’ forward with outstretched paws —

@DUSTSTORM ​

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thought speech​

 

[DUSTSTORM]

this is who i am . nobody said you had to like it .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

/ some minor fighting toward the end ! nothing too graphic ^^

He knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind but … staring at Tatteredlight dead and not — Duststorm swallowed heavily, tongue getting caught in his throat at the whistled wheeze that escaped clenched teeth. Tatteredlight. His baby brother. Gone. Dead. And … And he hadn’t been there. He had wanted to cry out loud then, watching them bring his brother’s body back covered in sanguine, but Hollywhisper was there and Duststorm didn’t want to subject his mate to whatever this is. Will be if he didn’t get out of there and find whoever killed his little brother.

His teeth clenched painfully, borderline harmful if he didn’t let up, but refusing to because the unnatural need for revenge overcame everything else. Find them. His mind repeated like a mantra, echoing his thoughts to find and kill when Duskpool came shouldering through the undergrowth, words muffled did the coursing anger crescendo, roaring with a frustrated sneer.

Logic. He wanted to laugh. Duststorm knew better, but now? Stars no. He was far beyond logic. “You have —” Swallowing painfully, repeating his words with a broken cry, “You have no right! None! What would you have done, huh?! Sit back and think like a cold-hearted fox?” He snapped, words meant to burrow into the older tom’s backside and he knew he shouldn’t be saying any of this, but the grief and anger? He didn’t know what to do with it. “Don’t you dare bring him into this Duskpool!” He seethed dangerously. He wouldn’t leave Hollywhisper. Their children. That much was true, but —

Gone. Gone. His brother was dead and someone did that. Did that to his brother. They killed him. The fawn-colored warrior shuddered, breath coming in short raspy pants, unable to quell the rising anger and Duskpool was just there that he lashed out, paws outstretched to slam full-force into the warrior with an angry, heart-wrenching cry, bringing the two toms slamming into the unforgiving earth, grappling with each other ( more so Duststorm than Duskpool having taken on a defensive approach ).

Unwanted tears brimmed his waterline, dripping down scarred cheeks without prompt, chest shuddering with muffled cries and a headache that pulsed unsteadily behind his eyes because it wasn’t fair, but life wasn’t fair, it never was, never will be and that was …. “Why him?” He pleaded to empty air, not expecting Duskpool to answer after another harsh slam to the shoulder, attempting to strike the dodging warrior with a wrinkled sneer.

“He was good. He didn’t —” Another harsh jab, claws slipping out to gouge a semi-deep gash against Duskpool’s cheek, dark sanguine coating peeked claws did the tables turn, world turning upside down with a harsh wheeze settling deep within his chest, mind still reeling when he shouted, “Get off of me!” ​

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thought speech​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

At the sharp stinging sensation, Duskpool willed aching muscles to act, slammin’ the angry tom to the ground, usin’ the bulk of his weight against the smaller warrior with a wrinkled sneer dancin’ across a scarred muzzle, molten hues slitted. “I suggest ya listen real well, kid because I ain’t gonna repeat it —” A low, guttural thing, timbre like angry thunder that drummed onward, never pitchin’ nor fallin’ but a slow steady rumble. “I know ya want revenge, but this ain’t the way, not when you’re keyed up and about ready to explode.” He snapped, hefty paws pressin’ deeper into Duststorm’s shoulders, ignorin’ the steady throb of his cheek, ichor beadin’ against the deep gash stainin’ the white of his fur an unnatural hue that bled into the obsidian tinge of his wooly fur.

“Do ya really think marchin’ in there blazin’ hot is gonna solve anythin’? It’s a fool’s game, Duststorm.” He grounded out, breath jagged against the younger’s cheek, watchin’ the fawn-hued warrior breath angrily, nostrils flarin’ outward. “Don’t be stupid, kid. I might be thinkin’ about Hollywhisper, but don’t ya dare think I don’t care just as strongly about ya. I want revenge just as much as ya, but get yer head out of the clouds.” He finished with a snapped breath, body still pinnin’ the other when the clogs began to turn, emotions givin’ way to logic, muscles saggin’ in defeat with angry tears beadin’ Duststorm’s waterline.

He breathed a sigh of relief, pullin’ away with a low, rumbled grunt, molten hues brimmin’ with permanent tiredness it seemed to tuck the younger tom against his chest, ignorin’ the weak pulls succumbin’ to grief, silent except for the occasional sniffles and full-body shiver. “It won’t be the same, but I’m here kiddo. I ain’t goin’ anywhere, alright? And Tatteredlight’s always gonna be watchin’ over ya, no doubt.” He mumbled against wooly fur, barely able to hear the croaky apology drawin’ a loud snort from the warrior.

“Grief ain’t somethin’ ya gotta apologize for, kiddo. It ain’t pretty and I knew what I was gettin’ into when I followed ya. Don’t gotta apologize to me.”

With a tired sigh, Duskpool pulled away, nudgin’ Duststorm toward camp. “Now get goin’ before I drag ya by the scruff. Get yerself cleaned up, alright? Don’t go regrettin’ not sayin’ goodbye, but do yerself a favor and lean on Hollywhisper, alright? I know he ain’t all that great at takin’ care of himself; bein’ mates ain’t always gotta be stayin’ strong for each other.” Foxdung. He rarely spoke this much, but it was the truth and Duskpool needed the dusty warrior to understand before goin’ down a path he knew the tom worked so hard to avoid.

The obsidian warrior watched Duststorm stare ahead, resignation deep within golden orbs to veer away toward camp, not before apologizin’ again for the gash durin’ their tussle in the shrubbery, earnin’ a shake of his helm. Don’t go apologizin’ to me now. “I ain’t gonna repeat it, but remember this kid — I ain’t mad so stop those thoughts, now get to camp before Hollywhisper starts worryin’ where ya went.” ​

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thought speech​