private call me an omen // a serious conversation

[✧ Siltcloud.]

THERE'S A HOLE IN MY SOUL ( CAN YOU FILL IT ? )
siltcloud | 14 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #905d5d

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It's been days now, she thinks, since loampaw had been promoted to loampelt, since he'd joined her in the warriors ranks. And yet - nothing had changed. They simply worked as the days passed them by, as she wandered her way out of camp most nights, remaining friends. She doesn't know exactly when she'd got such ideas, but she supposes she'd thought such an event would change things, change the. That they'd be like granitepelt and starlingheart, unable to hide nor deny the feelings she's so certain they share... right?

Dull green gaze is focused as she weaves her way over to him, pawsteps careful and quiet, and she does her best not to look away - no, she wants to face this head on. "Loampelt...." she starts, voice quiet and dull, though she quickly pauses - uncertain. The words are hard to find, because really it's something she feels shouldn't have to be said. "I like you. I.... have for a while. And - I thought... you liked me too," she finally says, words slowly drawn out and lilting, a carefully cautious thing, and yet she doesn't beat around the bush, instead getting straight to the point.

She needs to know if she's wrong - or if it's something else. Perhaps he's just.... not ready yet? Something like that would make more sense to the molly, confident as she is of her observation, but she waits for his response anyways. She needs to know.

// @loampelt

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[loampelt]

Warriorhood feels like an exhale. It isn't exactly what Loampelt was expecting — he has a new nest in a new den, even if his paws try and steer him elsewhere out of habit. He doesn't need to waste his time on fruitless training with a mentor whose never cared about him. Loampelt is allowed to be useful in his own way, without the need or worry about mastering skills that exist at complete odds with that Loampelt is capable of.

And then there is Siltcloud.

Loampelt catches himself waiting for something, whatever that something may be. He notices things, Loampelt has always been good at noticing things, and he suspects that Siltcloud must be waiting for something too. But then she is gone for too long and vague about where she had been, and Loampelt knows better than to press. They'd never made any sort of promise to be honest with one another, but Loampelt doesn't want to force her to lie to him anyway.

Then Loampelt recalls the times when he'd done that thing he does — had a fit as his clanmates put it despite his personal hatred of the phrase — and told Siltcloud in the time after that he'd been fine. They lie to each other, and Loampelt doesn't want that if they are to be something. When Loampelt sees Siltcloud approaching, he cannot help but to smile. Despite whatever gap Loampelt feels, real or imagined, Siltcloud is still Loampelt's best friend. But then he sees her expression and that smile falls, and then she speaks and Loampelt's own face has shuttered into surprise.

"Ah," Loampelt says, and for a moment that is all he can say. Not out of any fault in his tongue or in his head, but from the wholly unfamiliar feeling of being completely dumbstruck. Confirmation leaves him giddy nearly as much as it causes dread to pool in his gut. "That's — uh, we sh-shuh-should t-tuh-talk," Loampelt knows it isn't what Siltcloud wants to hear. It isn't what he wants to say, "You, uh, I-ee-uh..."

StarClan, he is bad at this. Loampelt presses his brow to Siltcloud's own and wishes he could simply press his thoughts into hers.

"We uh-uh-are a bad idea," Loampelt murmurs and then pulls away. He should be looking Siltcloud in the eye when he says this, "And 'm still tr-truh-trying t-tuh-to figure things out." ​

tags ∘ shadowclan warrior ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 13 moons​

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[✧ Siltcloud.]

THERE'S A HOLE IN MY SOUL ( CAN YOU FILL IT ? )
siltcloud | 14 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #905d5d

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Loampelt's touch is gentle, and for a moment, silt thinks everything will be fine - her thoughts finally confirmed.

And then he speaks, and she listens. 'We are a bad idea,' he says, and her breath catches in her throat - the pounding of her heart against her ribcage suddenly too much, too loud. A bad idea - has she done something wrong? Has he discovered what she's done? Have their tangled web of lies finally come unspun, fragile and delicately woven as they are? But certainly - certainly, if loam had known, he'd understand - right?

That she'd do the same thing if rols were switched, if it had been her friend hovering over sabletufts corpse instead. That her nighttime wanderings, her sudden disappearances - the blood spilled by her paws, it was all for him. All for them.

She just... couldn't be powerless, not when she knew who was really behind ghostpaws drowning. Not when even starclan themselves were against shadowclan - when her brother, when brairstar, when flickerfire, when poppypaw had all fallen into their clutches by one tragedy after another. She won't - can't - let loampelt become just another body to be buried.

But then he speaks again, and suddenly she's letting out a quiet, shuddering gasp - eyes and cheeks feeling far too damp. When had she started to cry? 'still trying to figure things out'

So there is still hope - he's not denying the love she knows is there, the affection that she has seldom felt before. It is not a 'no', but a 'maybe'. She - she can work with that. Dull gaze glimmers with unshed tears as she strangles down the last of her unpleasant emotions, shoving them into the dark recesses of her mind where they belong. "I... okay. okay." she starts softly, voice leveling out into something more stable as she continues. "i don't.... I disagree. I don't think we're a bad idea - think we're the best idea we've ever had," she says, something hysterical slipping into her tone.

She's not sure who she's making such a promise too - herself, or him. Or perhaps to neither - perhaps she is calling out to the heavens themselves, staking her claim. "... you can think, you can figure things out but... but I'll wait. I'll wait as long as it takes," green eyes meet hazel, as though perhaps if she looks long enough, if he does, her determination, her sincerity might show through.

Loampelt will be hers - it'll just take time. And in the meantime, she'll work hard to show him that they're meant to be - she'll show him that she can protect them both from anything, from the world, from granitepelt, even against the stars themselves. Because he is hers.

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[loampelt]

Siltcloud says they are the best idea for a brief, weak moment, Loampelt wants to go back on his word. He sees a future where he is too afraid to push Siltcloud and where Siltcloud is too afraid to not coddle Loampelt. He can close his eyes and imagine all the ways bitterness can bloom as numerous and hardy as dandelions between them; he can feel it now without the weight of a label.

Her declaration that she'll wait is a balm to his heart that he hadn't known he needed. Siltcloud doesn't hate him, even if something in her quiet determination rankles Loampelt, "You sh-shuh-should figure yourself out tuh-too," Loampelt says, as gently as he can manage, "And th-thuh-then I'll have a chance oh-oh-of understuh-stuh-standing you." ​

tags ∘ shadowclan warrior ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 13 moons​

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