- May 2, 2023
- 615
- 184
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He must've known. Just like the sun knows to rise and set each day, the buried bulbs of tulips know when to hide and slowly unwind new sprouts each new-leaf. The ice knows to form when the winter is harshest and then knows exactly when to break apart come spring. The rigidity of her muscles, taut with frustration, mimicked the harsh river stones that gouged their spot despite the pulling rapids... they are painfully obvious in that way.. stepping stones to a forest of storms and frantically running raindrops.
Even now... there is a blessing of the lightest drizzle... misting them in a softly pattering blanket of noise. A moment of quiet... a deceitful peace. So few and far between. A brave droplet dives from the canopy to splash at a small, half-torn ear which smacks it away in passive retaliation. A hundred words sit on her tongue, caged behind carefully clamped teeth like they are a dammed stream, contained for the safety of those downriver. Why has he brought her out here... amongst the rivulets that run down the soaking leaves... the soggy sound of dampened soil under-paw. There's a familiarity to it that sings to their history as peers... as two-toned echoes tumbling along the same path towards twinkling, starlit sanctuary. Twilight is written in his pelt like he was born to embody it- shrouded in the shadows of the fading sun, desperately clinging to those scraps of life to hold something beautiful between his paws. RiverClan was his painted horizon of pinks, purples and soft golds...
A shared dream... beheld in the tender hours of the evening where pale clouds race across the sky to unveil the stars.
The soft chirp of cricket song has been a consistent symphony in recent days... a careful orchestrion of the death of dawn, gently plucked strings accompanied now by the drum beats of rainfall. The path is familiar as they disrupt the bowing, performers leaping in wild, sky-high hops as their stage is swept aside until it opens into emptiness. Far below the cliff's edge the distant rumbling of the river hums its familiar tune and they stop.... They stop and she finds the light of a fire staring back at her.
"What?" The silence that echoes between them grows louder than even the din of the joyous bugs... A scrutinizing ember burning into her cheeks with hot embarrassment. Nothing had to be said... Shards of ice slide away as they are melted, struggling to escape to a colder environment where they might yet float along in their frigid demeanor.
Their journey resumes, tracing the edges of a molded canyon... hushed whispers exchanged under the slowly dimming buzz of life as it laid its collective heads to rest. Confession of mutual dismay, raw wounds that remained untended... a conflicted dance between want and need. It simmers as shoulder bumps against shoulder, tails flicking to punctuate their stanzas- Slowly the will to fight dies on a dry tongue, in a hoarse throat and thrums instead in silence in their ears. So loud is that rush of blood that the crackling scream of exhausted earth only finds one member in its audience.
The moment just before... it should've lasted forever. Finding hope in common goal, in fostering something new... cradling what future remained yet unborn, that they could sculpt with wet, careful hands. Conversation that spoke to growth, to change, to the tangle of light and dark pelts that were now responsible for the delicate red string that wrapped around the whole of RiverClan.
If she could hold onto the way the roughness of his paws felt against her shoulder forever, she would.
If there were a way to keep the smell of willow leaves and spring water locked in perfect memory, she would.
Instead all the tumbling fog can feel is the way the earth grinds against a shoulder that had once carried his secrets... The way the shadow of night rises on the skyline as his falls beneath it... The clatter of rocks cascading in hollow, echoing racket down the side of the gorge- "SMOKE-"
There is tar in her veins, far too slow to be the reality that unfolds in shutter-speed agony before eyes that beg to deny what they see. Too slow... Her paws lunge for the precipice like it is prey to be caught, sliding harshly against the jagged edge with claws outstretched to grab at something- anything- "SMOKESTAR!" A cord strung so tightly it threatens to snap, hardly more than a wheezing screech. I shouldn't have moved. The words rattle against the inside of her skull like a caged bird slamming fervently into the walls of its prison, losing its feathers in its panic... breaking tender bones for the chance at freedom- Why did he make me move...
To have that gift, to fly with wings that beat as wildly as their heart, they might be able to wrap claws that would be talons around him, to grab him. Decorate him in colorful plumage as a sacrificially coffin of feathers- that he might be wrapped in a soft embrace and find himself saved at the expense of a stupid, dead bird. It was just... a stupid dead bird.. she could be a stupid dead bird- would do it happily, would be that stupid dead bird that kept him safe, that held him tight, that didn't let go-
"I... I'll find you!... Wait for me! Just hold on." Begged by a mouth that refuses to move, by a voice that refuses to speak. What reassuring yell she thought might reach him, might convince him to survive against all uncertain odds... it does not echo like the clattering stones down the cliff face. Stumbling on fawn-like legs, they shake so furiously it is a wonder they can even claim they know how to walk- had known how to walk for years, done it constantly.
Like the sky itself pitied her, the rains cease... Leave her to drip in her sorrow on appendages that feel like they belong to stranger. To walk home without the ambiance of peace... of quiet... without the sun... without the Star.
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speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
ooc notes ✦ smokestar's candle burns out...
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penned by tieirlys -
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