private chaos & kindness // lichenstar

[splashdance]

The stars still glitter above. Splashdance does not delight in their watchful gaze, but she stares on, as if the defiance in her bones will shed the odd guilt and fervent worry she harbors. This is because of your so-called blessed rules, she accuses them in her silence, her stomach roiling as she dares think of their deceased in dastardly light. If the code had never been masterfully crafted by long gone paws, then maybe they wouldn't be as troubled as they are now. It's a childish thought, quickly dashed by slowly loping pawsteps behind her.

Tired blue eyes shift to look over her shoulder, the dimness fluttering as she seens Lichenstar approaching her. Their wounds are stitched together by the same starlight the molly had cursed moments before, yet still so much of them seems to ache with death and decay. She instinctively leans away from her leader, as if the other's touch would damn her, too, before turning her gaze outwards again.

"... Is Pebbletail okay?" she asks quietly, thinking of the tom she's abandoned once more. His pelt was crusted red, his cheeks stained with tears. She presses forth, as if talking of another soul will cleanse her own of ill gotten guilt. Her maw opens, as if to inquire of the tom again, to press him as a good warrior beneath Lichenstar, and a good son atop of that. But the point leader should know that. They do not need her feverish repenting in his favor. They approach her because she left at all, because the few wounds she has have scabbed over in the interim but the one in her heart still weeps.

Her mouth is dry. Her gaze falls to her paws, the imagery of a mottled feline pressed beneath them, the fear of a life taken by her own action. Splashdance wonders what butterfly's flap has lead her here, today, to witness so much pain and suffering. To witness the Clan's feelings about controversy yet again.

"Lichenstar?" she murmurs the leader's name softly. Her tail curls around her paws. "Did you... did you know about Iciclefang? Did you..." there's a numbness to her tone, a vague sense of understanding. "Did you protect her, too?"
​

 

[lichenstar]

✦˚.✧˚✧˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✧˚✦˚✦.˚✧

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Hazecloud was busy... resolving whatever matters it was that Beefang had been assigned to attend to with her. Lichenstar had waited with impatience as bloodied snowy paws had worked to wrap and bind what injuries could not be fixed by the mourning denial of the stars. Once more... a fragment of the soul left behind. Every visit, she saw herself grow more opaque- she'd begun to wonder if her clan-mates saw her translucently every time she rose... growing more alike a ghost with each death.
  
  Perhaps her pursuit of a missing drop of inky night was selfish... or maybe a subconscious understanding of what truth remained to be revealed. Splashdance was an example of graciousness... of a kinder self that had not become so jaded by the betrayals of her clan. How they avoided her like she were their enemy... chose to hide the truth as if she'd ever raised a paw against them. Maybe they had a reason to be afraid now... toiling in their own secrets, witnessing the ways their leader wielded a blade to those so bound in the red ribbons of fate in all the same ways. Watching the line go slack where she cut through it...
  
  She sits like a shade of a softer self... one with more empathy... one more willing to bend. "Is Pebbletail okay?" She didn't think she'd been loud upon approach.. but perhaps the discomfort of her tattered figure had encouraged a heavy gait, favoring what few muscles did not hurt. It's such an odd question... Lichenstar isn't sure how to answer. After all they'd fought, endured and won... she does not celebrate in the arms of her mate but pines after her son instead. "He's..." Terrified? Sick to his stomach? "Going to be... okay..." It was the only promise she could really make.
  
  Guilt lances through her, remembering a harsh accusation wielded at her by her deputy. That she could not continue such a flagrant, reckless sacrifice of her lives... could not traumatize their children (as if she'd done it on purpose). "I thought... you two... were friends?" Why does she ask his mother... instead of pressing stony fur into obsidian flecks and asking him herself?
  
  She pads closer, trying not to wince at the way the young warrior practically flinches away from her presence. She says her name... or rather.. the only name that she's ever known. In this moment, Lichenstar misses Lichentail, who may've been more awkward but still warmer... Still hopeful. Who did not so wildly fear the empty spaces and what enemies might leap from them. "Splashdance...?" There is a pause as she seems to curl up tighter into herself, and then a question.
  
  Protect her...?
  
  Iciclefang had never needed protecting... had never asked for it. She searches her memory for what few, private conversations they'd had. She was young, brash, hot-headed... stubborn. And they butt heads even in the best of times. Lichenstar had never felt she needed holding... coddling... reassurance... She was as frigid and unrelenting as her namesake. Sharp.
  
  "Protect her... from what...?" Her whiskers twitch, glancing towards whatever middle distance might offer her the space to unpack her memories, her thoughts... what theories she could build with just a little bit of room. The only advice she'd ever given that girl... was to not isolate herself... right? She'd mentioned that the clan were fresh and suffocating at the same time.. they demanded alienation- but they were all still just cats hoping to survive.
  
  She'd lost track of such open-mindedness moons ago, when Smokestar's blood had splattered across her chest. Suddenly everyone seemed like an enemy. "She... never asked... for protecting..."
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[splashdance]

"Going to be okay," is not the answer she wants, but it is the one she's served. The tension in her shoulders does not lessen with the meager promise, but she accepts Lichenstar's attempt regardless. It seems they have similar thoughts in this regard; neither of them can truly dictate how the tom may feel about the battle and his loss. The pacing silence between them is unsettled by Lichenstar's rasping, and a watchful eye may catch how Splashdance's gaze skates across the sky once more, a little to eager to avoid her leader's concern.

"I..." She croaks, and pitifully gasps out a sharp laugh, a mocking false smile. "It's a long story," the warrior tries. She cannot tell Lichenstar of Midnightash's isolation - her tactless demands of separation. Every time she has put it into words, she can hear her own foolishness and self sacrificing nature. She does not need her leader to hear it hilt off of her own tongue. "Call it... new warrior blues...?"

Perhaps she presses the question into the air to avoid this discussion. Perhaps in her unwillingness to sort her now she dwells in her desperation to discern her then and later.

But Lichenstar is... confused.

Splashdance takes it in stride, assuming humility and modesty of her leader. "I suppose I hadn't asked you to do that, either," a warmer chuckle, even if the edges scrape down her throat. "But - from her kits? From the council and the rest of the Clan? It must've been difficult..." Splashdance swallows and her tail pulls even tighter around her torso. "I was a kid when I got here, and some cats were... ruthless, y'know? I get it. You want to protect your own..."

From her perspective, it's honorable. She doesn't mind being the test run in a series of mistakes, the example as to what happens when fools step too far. Swiftfire was the next, and unknowingly to Splashdance, Gladefrost after her. Iciclefang must've foreseen this pain through the many bouts of it. Lichenstar must've done all she could, up until that ThunderClan molly squandered all of their silence. To save Pinepaw, she reminds herself, turning her gaze to Lichenstar finally.

"With a ThunderClanner though, huh?" she tries to light humor in her eyes, but it fizzles by every syllable. "I suppose it's easier to forget the rules when territories don't divide you. Sunningrocks was right there after all..."
​

 

[lichenstar]

✦˚.✧˚✧˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✧˚✦˚✦.˚✧

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• She's unwilling to pressure... to poke and prod at a sore wound. It is covered carefully in the cobwebs of her false smiles and soothed with her own self sacrificing salves. It was for the best, the young she-cat probably told herself... and Lichenstar is no mother of hers to turn to. Had she told her father about these 'new warrior blues'? Did Pikesplash stand a chance against the shadow-stream heart that he'd helped to foster? The lynx point sometimes doubts she knows her own children that well... had not broached Pebbletail's sinking demeanor over the last moon. Didn't dare touch her kin with a scalpel that might cut away the truth of their feelings.
  
  Hazecloud was far better suited to nurse their wounded hearts... Lichenstar had only ever left cuts in tender, adoring skin. A possessive, uncertain beast that could not articulate itself.
  
  "You'll... have to tell me... sometime," the door is left slightly ajar, an invitation on the mat out front just in case Splashdance ever got cold, standing in her own rainstorm just outside. She could listen... wasn't like she had a knack for chattering away anyways.
  
  But this nebulous 'protection' comes around again, a vague creature that they circle... Splashdance can see its shape clearly, knows its name, how to address it. To her, it is invisible... shifting and stuttering among its sharp facets with each tiny adjustment, trying to unmask it. "I suppose I hadn't asked you to do that, either." Her ear flicks, growing agitated by this weird game of keep-away, "You were... a child..." Children do not have to ask for safety... it is given, freely.
  
  "But..."
  
  The cascade of admissions starts as a small pebble down a craggy cliff face... jagged and unsteady, growing unstable with every echoing clack of the stone against the rocks. It splits... creates rifts, until there is a landslide of revelation to slam into the ground below, crushing the unwilling observer. If she'd known she needed to get out of the way... she would've. To play in ignorance just a little longer. To not be forced to dance with the reality of what slow poison had been fed to her for moons.
  
  When the territories don't divide...
  
  There is a time in not so distant memory that Lichenstar can remember a world without borders. No territories and laws to split them amongst themselves as sovereign groups. She'd encouraged it... hadn't she? To seek broader horizons, to respect the differences and learn from them. Grow from experience... do not run from it. Her stomach twists, feeling as if she is somehow complicit... that she had said something wrong that had inspired the tortoiseshell lead warrior to pursue this foolish romance.
  
  "What... do you mean...?" Her mouth is dry, struggling to keep the lid of an overboiling pot on tightly, lest the steam burn those in its thoughtless path. ThunderClanner... Her kits... The pieces click together like they are the locks on those Twoleg traps- they will not release, even when fearful teeth gnash at them. She is stuck in this box now... plastered against the side while the truth shrinks around what freedom she'd had.
  
  "What does.... Iciclefang's kits... have to do... with ThunderClan?" She knows.. she knows the answer, it has been set up so neatly before her with manicured context clues, lined up so precisely. They're not-... The reason she never-... How could she- These aren't spirals that Splashdance can swirl around and navigate, they are questions only the accused can answer. Her first instinct is anger... righteous fury... She had spat in Lichenstar's face time and again to spite her choice to allow this young warrior to live with them, had crowed for Pikesplash's exile all the while fussing over her own half-clan children? She had made a fool of her leader... and did not even have the modesty to remove herself from her position, knowing herself for the traitor she was....?
  
  She swallows down the fire-breath that scorches the back of her throat, shifting her jaw to try to dispel the tension there. "Who all.... knows about this...?"
• about
  
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ .
  
  . ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦ . . ˚ ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦ ˚ ✦ . . ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  
  . ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ . ✦ ​

 

[splashdance]

A giving chuckle, to provide levity to a conversation that leaves them with the tide. She doesn't think she would, in truth; the tangibility of her leader is already a contested thing to her. Lichenstar is too busy to bother with the inner machinations of her youthful workforce (yet, all the same, is that not her purpose? To be empathetic to their issues and pain, so that they may be solved with heartfelt paws?) Splashdance takes the reprieve from talking of the woman's son and forces instead chatter of Iciclefang, and one of the many other matters that trouble her this night.

She doesn't mean to speak in meandering paths. It is almost as if in her effort to relate and mind her tact, she is entirely too scared to say it outright. It's not her secret to admit (it's not a secret at all, anymore,) and for all intents and purposes, Lichenstar knows. Their lead warriors couldn't have hid it from them, too... right?

The click of chattering teeth and Lichenstar's eeking, grating tone. Splashdance feels she must vomit again, with how quickly her heart sank into her stomach. Blue eyes widen as they find similar hues, finally, and search them. Anger, suffocation, confusion - You didn't know. Splashdance blinks, her lips parting for a moment. It's not hers... but in the moment, she made herself its vessel. She is a living remnant of sin and now must continue on delivering the disrupting news on behalf of others.

"You were dead." Her tone has an edge of finality, of a fear that had once been dulled by acceptance, but now briefly sharpened again. She will not be at the end of Lichenstar's anger, not after tonight at least (she's sure she will have follies of her own,) but for the time she speaks, she troubles with the knowledge that she is not Iciclefang. Iciclefang is in camp, comforted by Ferngill and abandoned by her well loved, well trained children. It's everything she feared, everything she battered into Splashdance's mind over and over again.

There is no selfish happiness in the reversed roles.

"Flamestar killed you," a fact, "and while she was distracted, Pinepaw had gone after another apprentice. They... must've been kin, I don't know -" she's never claimed to care for the ties in ThunderClan. "- Pinepaw... I think Pinepaw killed her, the apprentice, and Flamestar was angry. Pushed Pinepaw over, gave her that nasty..." a vague gesture to her own face, mirroring the ugly scar that now mars the young mottled she-cat, "... and she... I think she was going to do more. A life for a life, but -"

It replays in her mind in vague uncertainty. There's a shake in her paw as it finds footing once more, and all she sees is her own opponent, begging for freedom. She almost killed someone - others did and hailed home as champions. She hopes Lichenstar doesn't see the weakness as she continues.

"A ThunderClan warrior bowed her head between Flamestar and Pinepaw. She said - 'She's my daughter!' Something like that. It could be heard throughout all of Sunningrocks... Flamestar called a retreat after that - Beefang cut down some hefty tom in the water, so they probably just... wanted to get away before they lost more..." she trails off, honestly losing the purpose of her words for a moment. The ghosting of war fogs her eyes, and so she turns to look down at their paws.

"When you woke up - back in camp, the shouting was... because of them," she doesn't say it with venom, more purpose. More... hope? Iciclefang is being punished by her own kin, but it is not her judgement to serve. "Pinepaw snapped at Iciclefang, Ferngill snapped at her - Moonbeam had to step in..." There's an indication hiding in her words, that it seems like Ferngill knew; no surprise had laced his words, just simple and honest understanding. A brother defending his sister, regardless of the tarnished honor.

"I left because -" she starts again, quick, before immediately dying in her tone, "- it was... too much. I... I thought you knew, and I had some... some comfort, Lichenstar, that it was a secret to protect the apprentices. That I was some lesson learned..." Her teeth grit and suddenly the weight on her shoulders grow too heavy and she leans away to hide her expression. Lying to herself that she had been of use to Lichenstar is not easy when the leader is confused; the truth that she was utilized and bullied stands taller, clearer, and strikes her down with repeated blows. She was no more than a puppeted frog, no more than a fool in a game of geniuses. She says no more, clenching her jaw to hold herself together.
​