private FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND [ splashdance ]

() he has avoided her for the better part of a moon. partially because of how busy he has been, with his mother injured and clan starving, but mostly because she has ordered him to. who is he to deny her? he sleeps in a nest that feels far too vacant, curls into twinkleflight's side at night when he's cold, wanders away from patrols that she too attends. she has stopped making eye contact, and he doesn't push it. he thinks perhaps he has ruined this relationship for good.

pebbletail dreams of soft pitch fur and snow-speckles, of a river too blue and too deep for him to climb out. he drowns in the water nightly, pushes himself under and lets out his breath until he can feel his body sink. it's almost peaceful - he will do this for the rest of his life if he has to. in the morning, he avoids watching her wake, avoids her accidental touch and the flaming gaze of her mate. he mutes himself, holding himself back until he can once again collapse in his nest and begin to drown.

everyone knows - everyone who cares at any rate - and everyone talks. pebbletail sticks to owlpaw, to turtledove, to valesight, their quiet friendship buoying him up. he seeks out emerald and new-leaf greens, odd eyes, instead of haunting blues. still there are some things he cannot avoid forever, and it seems fate has a knack for finding the worst times to push two cats into the same path. in the chill of the snow strewn world, pebbletail treks, alone but for his thoughts. they are focused resolutely on the state of lichenstar, his mother finally healed from her death wounds, on the excellent job he and his fellow warriors have done patching up the dens for leaf-bare, on the walk he took with valesight not long ago. he can feel his whiskers twitching at the memory, comparing a sharp green herb to his friend's eyes. he wonders vaguely if this is what it is to grow up, this finding new friends, moving to new places, getting new responsibilities. two moons out of apprenticehood, has finally he grasped the concept of adulthood?

it is with these thoughts spiraling in his head that the young man ducks under a low hanging willow branch and collided face first with another figure. "stars!" he gasps before he can have the chance to recover. fresh snow puffs up from where he steps off of the path, one paw raised to rub his muzzle. "sorry about that, wasn't looking where i was goi-" sunspark eyes find crystal. "splashdance. ahem, sorry."

  • // @splashdance xoxo " #848DAE"
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  • PEBBLETAIL ☼ HE / HIM, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. 12 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
    89442564_9uTfRAqzspiDh6I.png
    a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebbletail's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
 
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Moonbeam assuages her worries; but in light of the truth, she finds darkness instead. A thundering discomfort that no longer hides in the trestles of her fur, but instead sinks into her thinning sides. She should be thankful, and to a degree she absolutely is - but the manner of her gratitude feels dirtied with mud and tactless regret. Guilt, even, clouds her mind as she trudges along, the freshly fallen snow an odd nostalgic memory beneath her night-dark paws.

She's not pregnant; never was, evidently. Shock of the rapidly present news had churned her gut and panicked her mind, and though she has since quelled her fear and confusion, the matter of the issue still stands. Splashdance is disappointed. Not because she is not pregnant, for bearing kits in this season would trigger far worse in her mind. Instead, the festering grossness in her mind grows like mold over her broken heart. She cannot raise kits in her current mateship; something about mothering a litter inbeside Midnightash upsets her terribly. She knows what, but the words are not clear. The snow has stopped falling and the night shows with such clarity, now, and yet she cannot parse the necessary words to describe her discontent.

Like he, she is lost in her mind. Like he, she dips naturally beneath a willow branch. And like he, she knocks her muzzle against that of an unknown other - she recoils, slipping on the powdery snow and landing on her hind end. The chill is unwelcome, but unfelt, as she hears his voice and blinks her wide, river blue eyes at him.

His reluctance once he recognizes her is palpable.

Her heart sinks; she's done this, she knows.

An apology drips from his tongue. "I'm sorry," she murmurs in kind, though he may never know the true extent of her tone.

She stands to her paws again, the edges of them still numb from what Moonbeam called frostbite. She watches Pebbletail with a wary look, and instinctively she glances over her shoulder, looking for the fire hot gaze that usually lingers too close. To burn in her light would be a painful, torturous end; Splashdance tilts her gaze down and away - for to dwell in his would melt every last snowflake that has landed around them. And she cannot do that. She has forbade herself a realm of happiness and security.

She cannot be seen with him. She cannot let Midnightash know that she has been alone with him.

And still... a subtle extra beat in her chest. "Are... are you busy?" she tests the frozen waters between them. The tom of riverstone fur and sunray eyes has been a source of comfort since her very beggining here in RiverClan. She aches for his reassurance, even if she has ruined her chances of ever having it truly again.

A silent plea. Just a moment, she says with her gaze falling to the willow tree. I won't tell, and it shouldn't be like that. But it is; and Splashdance regrets every paining moment.
 
() one look, and he is drowning again. locked in her gaze, the young man breathes as if struggling for air, chest rising and falling as he stares. his muzzle stings where he has collided with her, and his paws burn with the cold. but he cannot make himself move. if he moves, he must leave, and this will be over. he will never see those blue eyes again. "it's okay," he will gulp in response to her gentle apology, because it is, and because it has to be. she glances over her shoulder, and his blood runs cold, picturing the same fire hot gaze that has burnt dull his friend's bright river eyes.

midnightash does not come, and pebbletail does not have long to ponder the reason for her absence before splashdance speaks again. it's soft, a spoken peace offering, and he tries to cling to the words as they float out into the air. her eyes say please, and his heart says please. his mind tries to be angry, sends him images of pitch and flame intertwined, of heartless blue eyes scorning a moons long friendship. (she had not been heartless, rather on the verge of tears, but his brain forgoes that reality.)

"are you…" are you going to string me along again? he almost asks, tongue thorny, forked with venom. am i going to be abandoned again? his gaze is still locked with hers, and his lips falter. "no, i'm not busy," pebbletail lets the words hang in the air. he steps toward her, gaze finally shifting to her muzzle, then to her hollow flanks, her mussed up fur.

"splashdance, are you okay?" it comes all at once, the pent up worry for his friend finally spilling after moons of silence. her azure gaze glinting with hidden pain, her lonesome walk in the fresh powdered snow, her despondent nature since the flood. midnightash's absence. "splash… snowy," the nickname, slipping from rubbery lips with ease. her eyes say i won't tell, she won't know. slowly, he reaches out, neck extending, the fog from his breath mingling with hers. they are a whisker's length apart now, citrine meeting sapphire. if she does not pull away, he moves closer, a snail's pace, until he presses his cheek to her cheek, shivering as he breathes in the familiar scent. the smell of home.


  • // " #848DAE"
  • 89442467_tOIzd3yHU0nBWAA.png
  • PEBBLETAIL ☼ HE / HIM, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. 12 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
    89442564_9uTfRAqzspiDh6I.png
    a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebbletail's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
 
Her blindness has all but ended. She cannot claim to fully know the pain behind sunspark eyes, to know how much of it is inflicted because of her. Splashdance almost foolishly decides that not even a drop could be driven by her paws - for she is just a shadow in his effervescent light. How could she tarnish his warmth and glimmer? Self deprecation lives so vibrantly in her blood, edged on by the callous words of her lover. Her gaze falls over her shoulder, his gaze finds the space between them with a sharp want for disconnect (which, unfortunately, will never come.)

His tone when she begs for his mercy is quick, at first - two syllables uttered with a downturned countenance. Does she look pathetic enough, then, to drown his want to snap? Do her eyes mist without her noticing? He isn't busy. Should she be so gleeful that he's abandoned whatever task plagued him prior just to dance with her once more? Who's knife is twisting, dragging, pulling and striking once more - and who is left bleeding in the visceral carnage?

"Are you okay?"

The story of her parents could not compare to that of her and Pebbletail. His composure to her prior demands slip with worry and care, and as does hers as she loosens her grip on what is supposed to be. It's him. It's always been him, and though she's ruined that chance, Splashdance relishes in the fact that he will offer her morsels when she needs it. Her heart thrums as he steps closer, the cold air misting his breath. He murmurs her star given name, one no longer lost to the realm of shadows and mud. He holds his cheek to hers, tentatively, carefully, and it's painful.

She presses back. In assured silence, she holds her cheek to his, not caring as she wets them both with lost tears. With all she could say, all she could do - her voice cannot manifest itself in the moment. The pain reverberates in her buckling legs as she tremors a sob, tucking closer to the tom should he not pull away. Words are unfathomable. She takes the seconds with slow, heaving breaths - her tail loosely settles on his, as if he may anchor her to the snowy shore. When she finally pulls from his embrace, finally collects herself enough to speak, she looks towards his warm gaze... and wants to shatter all over again.

She deserves this, Splashdance thinks. The thought does not blow away in the wind. She deserves the stabbing pain of knowing that it'll never be her for him. That her position in his life is now cemented elsewhere, by the mottled paws of another. But does he?

No, a paw lifts to his cheek, wetted with her tears. A mournful laugh creaks out between the hiccups as she tries to glide away some of the salt. But I can't stop.

"I'm sorry," she repeats again, her voice cracking. She takes in a deep shuddering breath, teeth clenched together as she tries, desperately, to put words forth. Anything, everything, nothing - something. She's made him stay, made him a witness to her wholly broken pieces. He deserves some explanation along the way. Her maw opens, her gaze falling to the wayside, and she tries - "My... My mom..." she winces, tenses her jaw. The paw that held Pebbletail's cheek now lifts to her own eyes, swiping away the tears loosing themselves once more. "Not - ... ugh, not the one you met. My..." a long pause. Her tears twist and pin to her head, her jaw tensing further. "She's dead. I don't - I can't..." another long, trembling breath, "I can't tell... Middy. She'll just..."

Splashdance leaves the air empty, leaves whatever she wants to say... unsaid. Perhaps she's spoken too much already.​
 
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