EVERY COLOR BLOOMING | sedgepounce

[SCORCHSTORM]

It is not a secret that Scorchstorm is less than thrilled about Thriftfeather's return. About Bluefrost's kits, about the swath of betrayal that WindClan's council members have seen fit to execute. And truthfully, she finds Sunstar's judgment in it all to be imprudent. Bluefrost's mere demotion seems a reasonable punishment considering she has kittens to raise, but Thriftfeather? Why allow him to stay, nursery-bound or not? The mere notion of his return puts burrs in the warrior's pelt; spurs her down the path of contempt for the budding family.

It is maybe a selfish thing to indulge her spite, but Scorchstorm scrabbles to assign more concrete morality to it all — ascribes codebreaking to the wound a lonely creature leaves behind, tacks devil over the face of a traitor who is luckier in love than she is. It is easy to count the toppled marbles in her garden; easy to find fault with the cat who had first captured the heart that Scorchstorm thought she'd stolen. It is easier to hate him than it is Bluefrost. For all their sordid history together, for all of the times they'd butted heads or clashed claws, Bluefrost had become a close friend in the past few moons. It is easier to blame Thriftfeather for the gorge between them now — easier not to examine the retreat Scorchstorm has made, too ashamed of wanting so explicitly when Bluefrost had never felt the same.

And StarClan, it is so much easier to hate Thriftfeather than to hate his children. She doesn't hate the kits — not even Sootkit — or so she tells herself. But seeing them in the den, the day she had asked Bluefrost why.... It had flipped her stomach. Turned her inside out completely. Sootkit. StarClan, what a name; she had not said anything then, and she is resolute not to hold it against the kit who must bear the cross now, but it is so... ignoble. Isn't it? Or does Bluefrost get a special chance at reclamation?

Lost in thought, Scorchstorm scoffs at the idea before she realizes she has company. She and Sedgepounce had come from a dusk patrol shortly before, prey in their mouths (thank the stars, they need it now, all these traitor mouths to feed). She has been picking sparsely at an ouzel shared between them, but only now does she remember to take a real bite. She swallows, and then turns to him. Something spiteful winds her tongue today.

"What do you think of Thriftfeather's return?" Scorchstorm pitches, orange ear flicking idly. Sedgepounce has extensive experience with DuskClanners, she knows; has extensive experience period. A fellow journeyer and now a true peer of her own, she finds herself eager to hear his judgment of it all. Perhaps most notably, he is one of the dwindling population of cats that remembers Thriftfeather from before DuskClan. He'd been a friend back then — but not anymore. With a sniff, she offers a cursory overview of her own attitudes: "I cannot believe Sunstar has let him stay."

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ✧

• ooc. @SEDGEPOUNCE <3
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 17 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Sedgepounce takes a hearty piece of the ouzel as Scorchstorm chews absentmindedly on a bite she probably finished seconds ago, staring at a patch of the gorse wall like it's insulted her mother. Her stark brooding makes her a sorry dinnermate, but Sedgepounce has grown accustom to her silent moping over the moons and easily resolves to let her ruminate until she eventually explodes with whatever's bothering her so much. It's almost fascinating watching the waves of thought coalesce across her face, but he can only take so much of seeing the same eyebrow furrowing and whisker twitching scowls before he truly gets bored. He can guess what she's so upset over anyway.

The nursery's nearby. Not within earshot, but close enough to see. There, Thriftfeather and Bluefrost crouch around their snuffling little brood, deigned toward immunity within the heather. He can't imagine them whispering secrets or making plans—they're stuck in the middle of the veritable lion's den. But it's only a matter of time before the other shoe drops. All it takes is one slip-up, one perceived glance at opportunity, before Thriftfeather's leading another attack on WindClan camp, just because he can.

Scorchstorm's voice finally peals from her throat just as he's turning back toward their meal, making sure he hasn't eaten more than his share.

"Mmf," he mutters around a bite. It takes a moment to gather the thoughts, the words. He sighs deeply.

"Sunstar's probably doing what he thinks is kindest," he begins, a prickle of anxiety at his nape. "Thriftfeather must have told him something to change his mind like that, but..." There's a dark, troubled expression on Sedgepounce's face. He picks at one of the fallen ouzel feathers at his paw, dark with dried blood. "Not everyone's cut out for second chances."

It was as shocking to find out that Thriftfeather had fled with Sootstar's loyalists as it was Rumblerain. He remembers them both in that camp, trapped beneath the iron claws of her true benefactors. It was cats like Sootstar and Ghostwail and...Snakehiss that made Thriftfeather miserable growing up—or so he'd thought. Apparently, he was all too happy to follow their whims even after they were all gone. Not only to stay with DuskClan, but to serve as their second in command.

Sedgepounce understands that Thriftfeather wouldn't want to raise his kits there, of course. Who would?

"Ugh, I...I dunno. Normally I'd say that kits deserve to be with their parents," he says, turning to look at Scorchstorm's stony expression. "But he can't be good for those kids, right?" A traitorous, conniving father can't be good for any kits. It certainly wasn't for Rowanpaw and her siblings.
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