BLOOD OF MY BLOOD — sootspot

[GRANITEPELT]

He has not been this near the border since the night he'd fled, the night he'd left Sootstar dying under Sunstar's claws. The smell of WindClan is pungent here, but his eyes gleam with pleasure as he detects smoke-dusted shrubbery, scorched prey beneath the heather nectar. He moves through tender new shoots of grass with meaning, purpose in every stolid step. Granitepelt finds his brother's silhouette in the darkness, aimless, restless, perhaps; he sits, a foxlength from the scent line, and dips his head.

"Sootspot. I come in peace." When he lifts his eyes, he studies the build—inherited from his mother, not their common father, small and slender and huddled. The pelt is the same slate-gray, but it's thick, windswept, and his eyes are streaked with badger-like stripes of darker fur.

"I was looking for you, actually, brother."

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: @SOOTSPOT
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — "duskclan" leader. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

'She is dead.' His aunt's demise was a difficult thing to wrestle with, but seeing the love his clanmates had held for getting her patrol to declare it had been a euphoria that had almost overshadowed it for the chimera. She had left a gaping wound within Sunstar's council, one only he could close, but getting the rest of WindClan to admit it was a challenge that could only be mulled over with the moon upon his back and his foes in this endeavor far, far away. Despite the familiarity of darkness, the night was hardly the epitome of safety within a territory that lacked trees - little did he know how soon his safety would be tested. Chartreuse eyes settled on the scent line, where, a familiar creature calmly stood. Sootspot's tail lashed. Granitepelt. Sootstar's true heir on a technicality - the nausea that crept into his belly was a mixture of envy and disgust. The only comfort came from the fact that he wanted Sunstar's throne far more than Granitepelt's, WindClan being a far better prize than wherever the slate-furred tom had come from. Once, he had told of the other's scent to his leader, today, he moved closer with a wary curiosity.

Granitepelt declared peaceful intentions and Sootspot offered a duplicitous smile. It was doubtful, but he would indulge the other until the threat revealed itself. I was looking for you, actually, brother. Confusion made his blinks incredulous and the tom tilted his head as if pointing an ear to the exile would make his hearing any better. He'd have thought it a figure of speech, if not for the sincerity of the word. Limbs tensed in a mixture of surprise and distrust, the smaller tom scoffing in disbelief. 'This must be a trick... what does he stand to gain by manipulating me?' Loyalty from within WindClan, legitimacy in the eyes of someone who valued bloodlines, there was some motive behind such a lie... his mother would have told him if they were truly kin... right? But Sootstar declared him a successor, nor had she ever spoken of his father. Despite it all, the possibility of truth was there and that was the only thing that kept him from walking away from the other. "Tell me the story of your parents." Something twisted in his gut, a cold knife of betrayal that sunk deeper and deeper with each passing moment.

"And how it is we have come to share one of them."


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[GRANITEPELT]

To his satisfaction, his half-brother offers him a tight smile and sits, wary, eyeing him with familiar green eyes. Granitepelt sees the incredulity on his face, and then the doubt gives way to something else, something cold and clear. "Tell me the story of your parents," Sootspot rasps, and Granitepelt's ears flick. "Flint was our father's name. A marsh colony soldier." His father's name tastes strange on his tongue, but he continues, low and slow. "Flint had a mate who expected kits. She was a... a kittypet, of no real repute. Sandra was her name. She had a Clan name, too, eventually, but she'll always be Sandra." He spits his mother's name; unlike his father's, it's foul in his mouth.

He scrapes his claws against regrown earth, something glinting in his eyes that isn't just starlight. "But Flint took a second mate behind Sandra's back. You may have heard of her... back then, she was only Soot, the marsh warrior." Granitepelt smiles, then. "Our father was a greedy creature. One she-cat wasn't enough for him. It's only a shame he died before he was able to look upon any of our faces." He lowers his muzzle and gives the pale fur on his chest a few licks.

"Your mother left, of course, for the moorland, while mine stayed and became one of ShadowClan's first queens. She was proud of the tom who'd died for Briarstar's cause. She named me after him, and she used to tell me... about him. His legacy." He frowns, remembering the nursery, his tabby sibling who had died, Siltcloud beside him, Sandra's warm, earthen scent, Starlingheart and her littermates nearby. "That is how you came to be firstborn of WindClan, and I one of ShadowClan's firstborns. We are..." He exhales, "not so different, though, really."

He considers it, the littermates lost to circumstance, the father lurking in their blood, forsaken by their Clans. It's enough to bring a small smile to his face.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — "duskclan" leader. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

When a truth couldn't be confronted, it was buried so deep that not even the Tunneler could find it. It was a lesson he had bestowed upon any young apprentice patient enough to listen to him talk of WindClan, that sometimes, injustices would be hidden and that was ok. Granitepelt was no WindClanner, but his slate-grey paw had reached further down than Sootspot's ever could, and plucked a part of history that the chimera thought erased. Sootstar, against all logic, had been his only parent for two years. Now, Granitepelt told him of a marsh colony cat who'd sired him, someone undoubtedly non-WindClan, someone undoubtedly unworthy of his mother's attention if she was a second choice. It seemed asinine for the Moor's Queen to degrade herself in such a way, but there were no holes in Granitepelt's story, nothing to poke at that would make him disbelieve his former accomplice.

'We could not be more different. For one, Sootstar would've never...'

His thoughts go to the confidence in which Sootstar had spoken to the other when Sootspot had thought they'd first met and a choked noise escaped the chimera as he realised she'd known. She must have known, there would be no other reason his mother would associate with half-kittypet trash. 'Mother... why?' He blinked and the creature before him grew blurry, nausea creeping around his throat like tendrils. 'Why didn't you tell me I had a brother?' He thought about the battle between rebel and loyalist, how in a dying breath, it was Granitepelt that been declared a successor instead of him. The trees at his kin's back spin and Sootspot took a step back and another, a silent snarl ripping through his throat as he fought to keep his balance. Nothing made sense unless he speculated the worst; and the worst made him bare his neck to the stars for the truth. 'I'm you, Sootstar, I did what I had to to keep myself alive, to keep our family's name in WindClan. I'll be smarter than you, live longer, any child should want to surpass their parents. But you ignored my efforts and focused on this creature instead. Did... did you really want Granitepelt be your son instead of me?'

The night sky was still, unanswering, complicit. It had known just as long as his mother, Soot and star were once so interchangeable that he could not separate them. Sootspot laughed so hard that black dots swirled in his vision - of course, he wouldn't get answers. Of course, he would be expected to figure it out all on his own... what the point of him was, if not to be the legacy. He turned his head sharply towards Granitepelt, an obsidian paw swiping at the corner of a chartreuse eye. He cringed at a wet patch upon the pad, rolling his eyes at the outwards vulnerability. 'We're different, I'm better. I'll prove it to you and I'll prove it to Sootstar, that I don't need to turn into a rogue to get what I want.' "Firstborns besmirched by their clans... I can see the resemblance," he rasped, meeting Granitepelt's level gaze. He smiled, forcing the facade of friendliness but knowing Granitepelt would know it was hiding a deep despair.

"If we truly are so similar, then..." A voice crack, followed by a dismissive chuckle from the Tunneler. 'Pull yourself together.' "I know better than to be indebted to you for this information. What do you want?"



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[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepelt can feel the despair radiating from Sootspot's thick pelt like sparks from flame. It does little to warm him, though he watches with a placid smile all the same. My brother does not seem happy with the news of our shared blood. It means little to him; he hadn't expected immediate camaraderie between the two, not like he'd had with Siltcloud up until the end. The lean-bodied gray warrior leans forward, green eyes glimmering dimly with stardust. "What do I want? Why couldn't I just be here to meet with my kin?"

His smile grows a touch hollow. "Although you have betrayed your mother's name, I am a forgiving brother. I forgave our sister for abandoning me, and I shall forgive you for doing the same. Surely we have more in common than you do with the rest of Sootstar's brats." He chortles; it echoes, empty-bellied.

The gray DuskClan leader pulls himself upright, straight-spined. "How much does this WindClan mean to you now? I'm curious." His tail flicks, back, center, forth, hypnotic. He must know what really lies in Sootspot's heart.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — "duskclan" leader. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

Why wasn't Granitepelt just there to meet with his kin? "Because you did not tell me before." Before, when he had handed off ShadowClan kittens to a stranger. Before, when they had served the same leader for moons. Before, when it was kin or clan, and one more of the former may have made Sootspot stay loyal to his mother. It was like the snap of fingers, or the strike of lightning on a lone tree. There was a sudden sharpness to his eyes, an inwards anger briefly cast outwards towards Granitepelt. A smile as tense as a bungee settled upon his ivory muzzle as he let Granitepelt indulge in his delusion of forgiveness, his reply nothing but silence. He tucked his tail around himself defensively, the night's gentle breeze muted in his ears by a racing heartbeat. The danger was separated by a scentline neither of them respected, and better a wounded pride than something tangible, permanent. He knew how his family treated each other, brotherly bonds with no time to forge would not stand in the way of an insult. 'We are still enemies. I can't let myself forget. Do not forget.'

Sootspot nodded his gratitude, desperately seeking clarity of thought now that new stakes had revealed themselves. 'She... she didn't tell me. I don't understand, I don't...' A question from the other and, like clockwork, the chimera answered. "WindClan means as much to me as it always has." Charteuse eyes looked straight through emerald ones, wanting to focus, wanting to find weakness and cursing the very ability to feel emotions for denying him such an opportunity. A racing mind considered what the other could've wanted if he wielded the idea of kin like a weapon and, decided not to speak to Granitepelt, but speak to a mirror instead. "Though I do see a certain... injustice nestled atop the Tallrock, the three-legged rogue who took what was rightfully yours." Acknowledgement of Granitepelt followed a split second of contemplation. "He has left a grievous wound upon our moors, too often I find myself wondering whether I should nurture it back to health or put it out of its misery. Which one would serve my mother better, I wonder, to restore what was hers? Or get revenge on what destroyed her?"

What was destroyed could be rebuilt, that had been a lesson philosophical cats had taken from the moorland fires. But what of death? Death, the ultimate destruction, what could heal that? "What would a merciful cat such as yourself decide?"


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