DRAWING OF AN ANGEL | dawnglare

[Oleanderkit]

Dawnglare had all but forbidden her from the medicine den, but cats have forbidden her from more than that, and Oleander had ignored them anyway. Don't bite, Butterflytuft had instructed. She had bitten Foxglovekit all the same. Don't leave camp, Butterflytuft had also insisted, and while she hadn't broken that rule yet, she certainly had her plans to. Not that the grown-ups needed to know, of course. That was an Oleanderkit-only secret — even Birchkit would threaten to tattle on her, she thinks, so nobody else can know. When she breaks free of camp's confines, it will be nobody's achievement but her own.

But if boredom is what drives her to seek fun in new places, then denial is what draws her to the hazel bush. This is not your place, some part of her insists, a warped echo of Dawnglare's own voice. But why not? She had been brought there the day she had been drafted in to SkyClan's ranks. They had cured her sniffling nose, her crusted eyes (though she still gets regrettably crusty from time to time). Why had she lost her right to the herb-laced den? Why could she not ask its patients her burning questions? And, most importantly, how can she convince Dawnglare she is neither a thief nor a nuisance?

"Excuse me," the girl chirps, daring to step deeper into the den, finally mindful of her small repertoire of manners. "Dawnglare? Can I ask you stuff?" It is less an ask for permission and more a judgment of how much time Dawnglare can allot to her — and it better be a lot, because she has quite a few rounds of questions in the chamber. "Like, about being star-blessed? And salvay-shun? And what you do down here?" Oleanderkit tilts her head. The den seems to stretch, her words bouncing off its walls, the longer that Dawnglare does not reply to her. She hopes that he is home at all — it would be terribly embarrassing if he wasn't. Still, she continues, "and also I wanted to tell you I'm not a thief, really and truly, even though you said that's something a thief would say, and Birchkit's leftovers don't count because she lets me have them so it isn't stealing."

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc. @DAWNGLARE
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 03 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

...Oh. Interloper. One of the two kitten - fluff morsels without the brains to mind his space. And yet the both of them — they cling to questions, pick apart his earlier word so they can pick their way forward with questions at the ready. This one, at the least, was less like an insect with eyes too - round to crush without some.... repentance. This one mews, excuse me; acknowledges her mistake and presses forward anyways. Still obscured by shadow, Dawnglare turns to her slowly, her very presence enough screw blue eyes deeper into his skull. His nose wrinkles. Well — evidentially, he cannot pull at the strings of what it is she can do. Her mouth is all her own, and said mouth is practically spitting up bile on the other side of his den.

She betrays more thought with her word than he thought was possible for someone as easy to swallow as she. And perhaps it dredges something out of him, the reality that she has been pondering him for many sunrises, now. What cruelty would it be to deny her of knowledge she so evidently craved? ...Well, a just one. His time was in high demand ( was it? ) His word, just as sorely wanted ( was it? ) There was nothing that made him spare a dollop for this kit, but then...

His tongue runs along his teeth, and in split, nonsense decision, he makes toward her. In an ideal world, his gaze would be enough to send her squealing from his hovel, but his ideal world shattered moons ago, now... " You've asked me plenty of "stuff" already, " almost woefully, he informs her. " And, again — " A velvet head snakes down to meet her more plainly. One large paw prods her leg in an attempt to usher her further from his den. If only for the sake of sermon, she may toe the border with care... A huff sends a puff of hot air to her face. With no passion does he acquiesce " I suppose since you've already started... "

And to her final note, he eyes her with cynicism. " I'll see if I believe you. " The curl of a tail around white paws implies time given, then. The narrow of his eyes says, go on.​

 

[Oleanderkit]

The shadows bow gracefully out of Dawnglare's way when he finally makes his way to her. Oleanderkit greets him with a wan, winning smile. Oh, joy! Oh, sweet victory! She has summoned him, and now she may speak so that he may hear her, and what a wonderful gift is that!

He stares at her as if he is on the hunt. For a brief moment, she wonders if they wear the same pair of eyes — both so blue they are nearly clear, just jelly in the socket. But Dawnglare's eyes are much more piercing than her own, she thinks. She's not quite sure. She has only seen her reflection in the scarce puddles on her trek to SkyClan's border, and not after. Does that make him her father? No, that's not how it works. My father was Laurel. Pity she never met the man. How odd... how delightful that she and this Clanner share the same features, anyway. Maybe it bodes well for her own integration.

He rebuffs her at first. At his prodding she relents, retreating to the mouth of the den once more, confusion worn plainly in that mirrored gaze. "Well, yes," she concedes. She has asked him plenty of stuff. But she hasn't asked about any of the things she's got in mind today, so isn't he excited by that novelty? She squints against his sigh. But as he continues, her heart bumps its tempo, delighted by opportunity, a baby bird struggling to fly right out of her ribs. "Oh, good!" And then, remembering herself once more, "thank you! See, you'll know I'm not a thief when I'm done." Never mind that none of her questions have anything to do with thievery.

Seated now in the daylight, she readjusts her posture, straightening her back as well as she can. Dawnglare should be quite impressed with how she holds herself, she thinks. "Okay, so first, um... when do I get to be star-blessed?"

She does not realize the sanctity of the power. The gates and cages it is locked behind; the gauntlets that cats must run in order to attain it, and all of the suffering it brings thereafter. She knows Orangestar has this power, nine lives bestowed upon her by StarClan, someone had called it. But Oleanderkit fails to understand it thoroughly. That is why she is here, after all — in order to make up for what knowledge she lacks.

She inclines her head a few degrees forward, thick cream lashes lifting so that she can see Dawnglare in all his velvety glory. "I think I'm ready, so if you know where to start...."

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 04 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He is satisfied enough, he supposes, by the acceptance of her place — of what he is so graciously allotting her. Understanding is optional, truly. She ought to get it through her kittenish skull now that he would always know more than she could ever hope to. So long is that word is heeded, all is fine and well... Most of her stone-headed clanmates could not even make it so far... Her excitement snags him in a way he does not anticipate. Little paws skuttle to fix themselves, her mew of thank you is small and worm-like. The scrutiny of his gaze unknowingly softens. From him, she goads a short, close-lipped giggle.

His expectations had been lower-than-low... chatterings of what this and that herb was, or some such. Never would he have expected something as presumptuous as a blessing. He ought to be offended — but finds that he cannot be under such a wide blue gaze. Surely with all her bird bones, she would dare tread into places she could not hope to return from? With such soft sincerity, she tells him she's ready, and Dawnglare cannot help but meet the doll-like lift of her eyes with a slow loll of his head. A smile meets pink lips with tentativeness, and he coos, " Oh dear, no... I'm afraid it isn't something as meaningless as... hm... warriorhood. Not everyone can be, I do hope you understand. "

To say it was a future impossible to her would be untrue... The other Clans' Medicine Cats brimmed with insecurity. Orangestar's role was one not intended for her like... Somehow, he was meant to believe Twitchbolt would one day find the star's fortune, despite the body he inhabits clearly being far from his own.

" Now, if by some miracle you find yourself Leader... That is when you can say for — for certain. " He stumbles on the thought... Would Blazestar speak through her too, then, in that watery future? " Otherwise... " Dawnglare's head tilts. He hesitates on his next uttering, but really, the little thing ought to know where her hopes and dreams lay... With him, that is. " It's something you could only find through— hm, me. " It's less subdued now, the stretch of his smile. Though still close-lipped, it crescents his eyes...

Oh, but he's inviting further interrogation, is he not? Perhaps he does not shy away from the thought as readily as one may expect... " Such is not as easy as asking, I'll have you know. "​

 

[Oleanderkit]

A bell rings hollow in her chest at the small sound he makes, evidently a giggle, but without a source the kit herself can discern. Is he... laughing at her? At her? Oleanderkit's eyes flash, growing a hair guarded, but guarded in the way a near-dead dog guards its house. Shaky, unsure, willing to roll over. She ought not to close herself off, lest she lose his interest, but she is not certain she appreciates the idea of being a thing to giggle at. These are serious inquiries. Surely Dawnglare, kindred spirit that she finds him to be, should understand?

But she need not worry, it seems, for he hears her question all the same. It is unfortunate that the answer is not as satisfying as she would have hoped. Not everyone can be star-blessed? Cloudy brows hang low over her clear eyes, shading them in stormy gray. "Really?" she asks, tone lilting pleadingly upwards, because she cannot quite believe it. Nobody got the star-blessing except for... Leader, he says, and she thinks of Orangestar and her plethora of lives. "That's awfully greedy," she observes. Why should one cat hoard all of the stars' fortune? How should Oleander be expected to survive without more life to fall back on? Had Laurel only died because of Orangestar's avarice?

Something wicked and twisting rises through the column of her throat, scoring threads all up the esophagus. She had never met Laurel, but if he'd lived, her family might never have suffered the way they had — she might never have suffered, living under Nightshade's pawpad. Forced to flee that familiar violence, picking up illness on the way. Confined to a camp she still cannot fully reconcile as her own. The seams of her marionette composure become stressed under the weight of newfound anger. How in the world could Orangestar hold on to that star-blessing for herself, when other cats were so dearly in need? What about Violetnose? Did she not care even for her own?

The child grows huffy, tail flicking backwards and forwards in an anxious pendulum. But Dawnglare reveals a crack in the wall, a part in the curtain, an avenue through which she can escape this feeling into a new one: ambition.

"Will you tell me?" Oleander no longer makes the face of a child. Her eyes become sharp, the point of a viper's fang; her focus is cold and cutting against the flesh, as if she could part Dawnglare's fur just by staring at him. She does not seem to mind the way silver threads of fate have begun to bind them together. "I need it. I don't want to be like Laurel."

Laurel, dead in a ditch; Laurel, warm just until he needed to be; Laurel, the tom who broke her mother's heart by being just too mortal. She wills Dawnglare to understand the gravity of her situation — wills him to impart upon her the wisdom he carries. She needs the star-blessing. Surely he would not toy with her now, when she needs answers most of all.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 04 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Her eyes are large. The note of her voice is beseeching. His word alone could bring this mood of hers crashing to halt — and it's the way it ought to be; weight in every word. Refreshing, is what it is. Dawnglare tilts his head just so, meets the watery grave of her eyes with ice-capped sincerity. With his slow blink, he bids the answer. " Really. " That's awfully greedy, a similar notion shared. Blazestar had never cherished those nine lives, no... Had he never been crowned by them at all; never taken on that mantle of Star... He would be very much alive, Dawnglare is certain. Pearly teeth reveal themselves in his smile. Rime eyes slit thin. " Isn't it? " Easily, he agrees.

He beholds her with buzzing curiosity, privy to the glimmers of her mind, webs that are whisked away and reformed... What a look that overtakes her then, a determination threatening to transcend that of a mere kit. Resolution in the name of something she could not possibly understand... but it is intriguing, nonetheless.

Will you tell me? Dawnglare lowers his head, looks down past his nose to glimpse her in full. The wideness of his eyes ought to swallow her own. Oh, he'd like to pick apart this mind of hers; wear a crack through her skull with the scrape of a claw... Just what urgency grips her with such a suddenness? Was there a ghost swimming in those rheumy blues? Something more past that dewy exterior and kitten fluff? Oh, she needs it, and Dawnglare is no stranger to tending to necessity.

" You don't know what you ask of me, " nonjudgmentally said. He does not understand the mutterings of Laurel... perhaps he would, with time. " To give it to you would mean a lifetime by my side. " She did not know it would cost her everything. It'd forsake her of the ignorant bliss the rest of her clanmates could frolic in; and though it grated on him so, he can see it for what it is: mercy. " You do not know how much you would lose. You could not hope to until its far too late. "

The bright smiles, the curiosity... Yes, he think he ought to preserve that, for now. " Live for a little while longer, Oleanderkit, " he rumbles. Dawnglare does not think before he says it, murmured low for her ears only. " ...I believe there's something grand waiting for you. " Even if she did not know it, the ghost fluttering within her suerly did.​

 

[Oleanderkit]

He agrees that it is all very selfish. Oleander feels very grown up in her assessment, suddenly; she has glimpsed a truth that many of her clanmates fail to see. She has parted the exoskeleton of that chrysalis and peered straight into the nebulous goop within. She finds a rather self-satisfied smile stealing across her features at that moment. She is awfully clever, isn't she? And it is so rewarding to be clever, when Dawnglare doles out his conspiratorial smirk, when being in on it forms the impish crescent of his eyes. She knows not of the memories that flicker through him in that moment, but she does know she'd like to have more moments like it regardless.

But of course, she has serious matters on the mind. When she implores him so earnestly for his illustrious secrets, though, he finds a way to rebuff her once more, waves against a bluff. Oleander can no longer hide her wilting, even for as subtle as it begins in drooping ear-tips and a stilled tail. She knows he does not begrudge her for her curiosity — can hear it in the clear-cut timbre of each velvety syllable. She supposes she can appreciate that much; knows that many warriors would have laughed her away much earlier in to this conversation. Dawnglare is being... generous. Generous with his time, his knowledge, his mere presence. She isn't sure she came into his den believing it, but he is infectious, and she is a willing thrall.

What she can be indignant about, though is that he would assume her ambition. "But I'd have so many lifetimes! Giving one away wouldn't be so bad then," Oleander reasons through pouting pink lips. "And I'd like —" "You do not know how much you would lose."

She shuts her maw, then, frowning and petulant, but at least silent. "Live for a little while longer, Oleanderkit." She falters as intrigue needles her spine. "I believe there's something grand waiting for you." She blinks. Oh. So she's special?

"For me?" she asks, double-checking. Something grand is so... elusive. A fox in the night. She can only hope to catch glimpses of that future in the rustling pine needles overhead, in the shadowed ripples of their drinking water under rain's siege. Oleander cannot begin to know what blessed vision he must have received about her, but now that she knows there was something she can work her expectations into thousands of different molds, each more exciting than the last.

She hardly has time to think about what all she could lose in search of this divinity. She hardly has a concept of it, anyway; she is a mere kitten, who wants for little more than a next meal and, apparently, immortality. She cannot understand Dawnglare's insistence on living her life as it is now, so mortal and easily compromised, but... if he is to be stubborn, then she must relent, it seems.

Still, Oleanderkit has not asked everything she would like to know. "Okay," she finally acquiesces, only to launch into a change of subject. "Well, next, I wanted to ask about, um...." Her passerine-silver face scrunches in her contemplation. Oh, what had she wandered in here for? The star-blessings have overtaken her working curiosity. It is much to her despair that she cannot find a new thread to pick up; at least, not one that feels worth his time. What could she ask that could keep her in this den?

With a fluttering blink, she continues, "um, Florabreeze brought me a mouse the other day, but it was pink and not very mouse-like, and it didn't have any guts or bones." It takes a second to realize this is not exactly a question. Oleanderkit works quickly to amend this. "Do our guts and bones look like mouse guts and bones? 'Cause I also saw bird guts the other day, because Chrysaliswing was eating really messily, and those were different, so I wasn't sure...."

Hopefully it is enticing enough. Oleander would like to not be escorted away so soon after learning about her star-blessed destiny.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 04 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​