private FASTER THAN A MILLION MILES [✦] blazestar

[SQUALLMIST]

Silvered fur moves through camp, a squirrel carried between a frosted maw.

He’s been rather reclusive in recent moons, often keeping to himself outside of the usual patrols. Healing, mourning — a mixture of the two as life in the clans go onward, as his father’s name fades in SkyClan’s legacy - his brother’s, his own.

Squallmist stands outside his childhood home, a den he hasn’t stepped foot in since SkyClan’s birth, but one he’d once known well. The lingering scent of elderberry reminds him of his youth, of Rain — of times vastly different to now. He half expects his father’s scent to still remain as he pokes his head into the entrance, but it’s long gone now, silver replaced with gold, and lilac too.

It’s only gold he seeks, and only gold he finds. Squallmist nods to the leader in greeting, dropping the squirrel at his paws.

" Here, " he says, " You’ve been looking like you need it, lately. Share it with Bobbie, if you want - everyone else has eaten, I think. " Really, the silver tabby tom had initially grabbed the squirrel for himself, but he could eat later. Blazestar probably needed a proper meal more, he's sure, with all that’s been going on as of late.

" Go on, then, " A dark paw pushes the squirrel forward. Half-sighted eyes looking to the flame point, before scanning their surroundings. It’s how he remembered it, in some ways, but different still — changed with time, with leadership.

" I used to sleep in here, did you know that? " Squallmist says, " Back when Haze and I were young. " This, to some extent, was his nursery, his apprentice den. How things have changed since then.

" I don’t know how you do it, " he finds himself admitting.

For so long, he thought it would be him in Blazestar’s position, that it would be him taking over for Rain when his time had come. Had his father deemed him not ready? He’d begun to wonder, as his world shifted, as he shifted from pine cat to SkyClan warrior. Perhaps he’d never be fit for this, for leading the clan his father laid the foundation for — he’s wondered more often, as of late.

// @BLAZESTAR
​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

The last cat he expects to find at the mouth of his den is the fluffy-pelted silver tabby, sole green eye fixed on him with an unreadable murkiness. Blazestar trills his own greeting, ceasing his grooming session and eyeing the squirrel Squallmist had brought with appreciation. “Thanks. Bobbie will appreciate it, too. She’s eating for so many now, and it’s still leafbare, so it’s hard,” he says, dipping his head. With a large golden paw, he pulls the bit of fresh-kill closer to the nest, aiming to keep it nearby so it stays warm. Though the den is substantially less cold than out in camp, leafbare sucks the fire from prey’s blood so quickly, turning it into something remarkably less appetizing.

Squallmist lingers, and Blazestar wonders what the tabby is thinking. Soon, he reveals just that—when he’d been a kit, tumbling between his father’s paws, curled into Rain’s nest with his littermate. “I know,” he murmurs. He has a familiar prickling sensation of guilt that Squallmist inspired in him—guilt for stepping into Rain’s position, for inadvertently driving Haze to his untimely death.

“I don’t know how you do it.” A queer and surprising admission, one that sharpens Blazestar’s focus. “What?” He is clearly surprised. After a few heartbeats, he mews, “Sometimes I… I don’t know how I have, either. But it’s been so many moons, and SkyClan has grown.” After a moment, he asks, hesitant: “Do you think Rain would be proud? Of what we’ve become?”

, ”​

​

 

[SQUALLMIST]

Of course, Blazestar knows the fact Squallmist shares with him — it’s nothing fresh, nothing of revelation. The silver tom’s paws urged him toward the elderberry den in the days surrounding the Great Battle more often than not, whether to seek the company of his father beforehand, or his memory after the fact.

“ It feels… smaller, “ he notes, soot-tarnished paws shifting beneath him, “ It's smaller than what I remember. “

It’s unlikely — if anything, it grew in space without his large-formed family settled within it. Perhaps it shrunk with time; with the loss of his father, his brother, his legacy. Something once a staple of his life is no more, diminished into a bush merely given a passing glance to. Briefly, he wonders if history will repeat itself; if Blazestar and Bobbie’s kits will replace him in its shelter too.

A stormy gaze returns to the ragdoll with his admission, surprise evident upon the leader’s face that he partially shares. Ever since the former kittypet’s arrival to his home, Blazestar has been a key piece in Squallmist’s losses. If it weren’t for him — for his lead, his forging of SkyClan above the Pine Group — Haze might still be alive. He could’ve been Squallstar, himself. It’s an image he still mourns, though an idea tangled in daunt. Things would have been different for him, if clumsy golden paws had never stumbled into the pine forest.

Things would’ve been different for all of them.

“ SkyClan has grown, “ he agrees with a small nod. Squallmist sleeps among warriors now who don’t remember the Great Battle — who never met Rain or Haze, never had to mourn the loss of either — and even they aren’t among the clan’s youngest, these days.

And then, a question: one of his father.

“ I would think so, “ the warrior answers after a moment’s contemplation, “ He was… He was always proud of the Pine Group, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t be proud of what it’s become. SkyClan is strong. You made it strong, and welcomed many new faces. My father would be proud of you, too. “ Squallmist wonders if Rain is watching them from above as they speak — if Rain is proud of him, too.

“ You’ve done good so far, “ Squallmist adds in assurance, a dark-tipped ear twitching. SkyClan still remains, still thrives despite moments of darkness. The warrior isn’t certain he could pull off the same in Blazestar’s position.
​