private CAN I STAY BY YOUR SIDE? ☆ BEEFANG

[CICADAFLIGHT]

Sheepish and scabby - legged, he ducks into the medicine den, Claythorn's chastisement still ringing in his ears. The fiery - furred she - cat had stepped in to visit Beefang before he had, the monochrome warrior under hard orders from someone ( he was a little hazy, the vision - red kind, on the details ) to take some time and " cool off " before going in to see his sister. It was probably warranted, he realizes when he spots the red still spattering the pristine white of his leg—

—and then thought ebbs away when he catches sight of the smoky form collapsed in one of the nests, breaking into a brief sprint that ends with him at Beefang's side, odd eyes wide and nearly watery with relief when he sees that her lone amber one glitters with life.

" Beefang! " The tom exclaims in low tones, fighting the impulse to press his muzzle into the black curls that match his own, fearful of causing his sister further injury. He settles for laying with his paws tucked under him by the side of her nest, forgetting the barely - there pain ebbing through them from his small ( ish ) destructive spree outside. Husky voice a little choked, he manages " You're . . . alive. "

" I thought . . . " he trails off, unable or unwilling to finish the thought as he nestles himself as close to her nest as he's able without touching Beefang or hurting her any more. Cicadaflight tosses a repentant glance over his shoulder, towards where Moonbeam is busy at the other end of the den. " I'm lucky she let me in here at all, with how I was acting, " he mutters, managing a raspy chuckle.

// @BEEFANG !!

" speech "

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[BEEFANG]

ᨒ AN EYE FOR AN EYE, A LEG FOR A LEG. A SHOT IN THE HEART DOESN'T MAKE IT UNBREAK ᨒ​

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ — The curly furred smoke rests in her nest with her face, tattered ear, and the scars that went down her chest to her throat stinging from the marigold poultice that had been carefully slathered onto her wounds. The sound of excited pawsteps makes her body tense up knowing that it isn't Moonbeam since she's on the other side of the den and soon enough the sudden approach has a voice. She's quick to recognize her littermate watching as he draws close to her but not too close so he didn't end up hurting her, Beefang's gaze sharp and alert at first but then melts into a softer, warm one as she regards her younger littermate with love. "Cicadaflight..." She mumbles in return trying not to strain her voice too much as she recalls her raw yowls during her battle with Hush.

"You're... alive." His voice a little choked up as he utters these words and her singular amber eye examines him carefully for a few heartbeats before a weak smile pulls at the sides of her mouth. A part of her wishes to say why she wouldn't be alive but then she remembers how both of their fathers had died in a quick sweep, a blink of the eye, and she pauses to let herself think her words thoroughly. "I thought..." Cicadaflight continues but stops not finishing what he's going to say but Beefang knows and she's well aware of what he had thought when he found her the way she had been left to bleed out. Dead. And perhaps, if her littermates hadn't found her before the rest of the patrol that fate likely would've been sealed. "No, no... don't think of that..." Despite how rough her throat may feel, she manages to speak in a gentle voice one that's never heard by those out of their small family.

"I won't leave you. I'll never leave you and Cricket..." Beefang murmurs to him as he nestles closer, she shifts her body to that she could close the distance even by a little, she winces slightly at the ache in her body and bones but ignores it. Her head leans forward so that her rosy nose may brush against his cheek for a moment then inches closer so she could swipe a tongue over the curly locks of fur that rested atop of his head only to settle back down into her nest. Her inky paw with two snowy dipped toes pressing forward so that it rests on one of her brother's as she speaks once more "Starclan itself would need to come down here and force the air out of my lungs before I join their ranks." A promise.

She's not above death and she knows that nobody is. She does not wear the thorny, heavy crown that weighs on Lichenstar's helm with several lives gifted to protect their clan. No, she has just this one life but she would fight for it and it would be her choice on how she would want to be taken out of the world that belongs to the living. It would be defending her clan, her littermates, her kin, and her mate. What he says next is enough to make her own dry chuckle leave her maw and she shakes her head gently "I heard it was bad..." A brief glance is spared in the direction of her mate only to focus on her brother once more as her expression contorts into a thoughtful one before it melts into a more serious one.

It makes her face ache yet she doesn't care as her nonexistent brows furrow as she stares at him for a few heartbeats "Cicadaflight." She clears her throat as a shaky breath rattles out of her throat and continues, "I want you and Cricket to be careful... That rogue is still out there. And—" Beefang closes her lone eye as she takes a deep breath and a long sigh with a small shake of her head "That rogue. He's mine." Her lone eye opening as the fire in her gaze burns and the flames dance with a sudden determination and hunger, a certain bloodlust. Her voice clear and firm as she speaks when she declares herself as Hush's grim reaper.

"If anyone will drain the life from his body... It'll be me."

⡠﹞SHES NOT A BAD KID ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ BUT THEY HAD TO DO IT, SHE HAD TO CRACK﹝⠢

• 

  WARRIOR SKILLSET;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ HUNTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ TRACKING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ COMBAT
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ STEALTH
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ STRATEGY
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ SWIMMING
  — ✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ CLIMBING
• 
  ✦ a shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and a singular amber eye
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. distrusting of outsiders and will snap at you if y/c walks up to her on her blind side. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 12 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ asexual homoromantic; mated to moonbeam
  ✦ currently mentoring... n/a ; formerly mentored by smokestar
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadaflight and cricketchirp
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[CICADAFLIGHT]

Beefang's remaining eye looks barbed, reflecting the frayed mind behind it, as he doesn't doubt both of his own do—but it melts into softness, into the smoky bonfire warmth of three small bodies in a den that smells of clouds waiting to break. For just a moment, he can pretend that there's still two eyes that mirror his own, glimmer - bright and shiny with the unsullied joy of youth. Pretend that they're tucked not in the bitter - breathing world of the medicine den, but under nodding ferns that drip dew onto a pouting kit with too - long legs and bug eyes. Pretend that the red that blooms in his fur isn't a mix of his sister's blood and his own, but brightly colored petals carefully concealing patchy curls. Pretend that they're back when home still felt like home, when somewhere still felt like home, watching the star - bugs.

" I can't help it. The way you looked when me and Cricketchirp found you . . . " he trails off when her voice breaks his reverie, flexing claws that drag him back into the cruelness of reality. In an unconscious mirror of Beefang, his voice drops into an even lower register, attaining a softness around its gravelly edges rarely heard anywhere but between him and the two others that remain of their family's legacy ( and perhaps, on occasion, his cousins, although they've found a family all their own ). The warrior leans into the soft touch of his sister—it's rare that he feels such a caring touch, even rarer that he permits it—and sighs. " I know. "

" I know, but . . . stars, Beefang, you looked . . . " Hurt. Mad. Dead. The words catch thorny in his throat and his next exhale is heavy with their unspoken weight. " . . . bad. " The split - hued eyes, now only half - mirrored, are glossy in a rare display of emotion as he places a second forepaw over where hers is already stacked on top of his own; pressing her snow - dipped paw between his own as though it will tether his sister to this earth.

" You heard right, " he manages with a shivering sigh. " I'm lucky for Ferngill and Claythorn . . . and Driftwood, " he admits, tone curling upwards at the end. Glancing back, her tone attains a sudden sharpness, a seriousness that makes the black - and - white tom tense on instinct as her lone eye meets his with unspoken ferocity, their father's flame dancing behind it.

" I'll be careful, " he replies, feeling the weight of the lie on his tongue like a beating heart he's quick to choke down. He can promise, he can swear, but he knows . . . when tragedy strikes, when it does, because it's always waiting . . . stalking their Clan like a vulture catching the scent of rot, he will not be careful. He may very well be the next cat sprawled in Moonbeam's den, harlequined with blood.

His next words are more truthful, thank StarClan, though he still feels the dead weight of his half - truth sinking into the marrow of his chest. There's a heavy sigh, but a genuine promise when he mutters, voice low and rasped where his sister's is clear and determined, " . . . and I'll leave him for you. " His next words carry the coppery tang of a soldier's humor, paired with a grim smile. " Though if I find him first, I can't promise you'll be getting him whole. "

" speech ( theme week edition ) "

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