pafp FOUR EYES ENTWINED | an odd request

It had been several nights since Slateheart stood at the RiverClan border, contemplating what it means to be in love, and to be loved. It was still as mysterious to him as ever, except, now he felt the need for answers. It pained him to be so uncertain of his and others' feelings, to not know what lies beneath the surface emotions of joy and sorrow.

Maybe, before Bluepool died, he would have asked her or Scorchstreak. There's not a chance now, for he wouldn't see his ears clawed off today. Perhaps if Rattleheart had the free time, he would ask her as well - but she is busier than ever now, caring for her own kits and possibly looking after the newly made orphans. Maybe he is just looking for an excuse to talk to Sunstar instead, to hear one of his well-told stories and maybe forge a friendship. It has been a while since he's heard one of his stories, after all..

It's easy to visit the medicine den without bringing suspicion. Slateheart never thought himself above the menial tasks of changing bedding or delivering prey that was often assigned to apprentices - as long as he was busy, he was happy. It's what he does now, with prey in his jaws, as he makes his way to the medicine cat's den where Sunstar resides, hopeful for the conversation to bring a sense of peaceful nostalgia rather than fester yet-unhealed wounds. He would like to see the conflicts of his mind settled, in as subtle of a way as possible - but not to his leader's detriment. At the first sign of discomfort, he decides, he will be out of Sunstar's fur.

Thankfully, the leader is awake when Slateheart enters, and he will not have to wake him for a story like a bored kitten. "Delivery," he mumbles half-comically through the rodent's fur, before setting it at Sunstar's paws and taking a seat himself. "If you don't mind," he adds quietly, referencing his company. Sunstar did not seem to want much company these days, but perhaps things have changed since he temporarily moved in with Wolfsong. Maybe he isn't so tense and unsure.

"I actually have uh - err, a question. For a.. a story, if you would. A - A love story." Awkward as he is, stumbling over his words, Slateheart still manages a hopeful smile. "How did you know.. that you were in love with Wolfsong?" Maybe, if time and temper allowed, the medicine cat would chime in as well. Slateheart hadn't even thought to check if he was around at this time, but wouldn't have approached him anyway. The scent of blood and herbs rests heavy in the space between cats injured cats.

// please wait for @SUNSTAR !
  • slate-page-doll-low-res.png
    slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
    ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
    ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
    ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
    ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
    ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
    ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH
    ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  • 78016217_relDzXG2vj7CiMr.png

  • speech is #bbbb88

 
In the medicine den as he once had been, Sunstar feels mired in his own mortality. What had once been a source of joy, to know that he would live and die and celebrate all that he had done with his ancestors, now lingers as an axe above his throat. Prepared, at any moment, to drop upon him and take what remains of StarClan's blessing. (They had not fixed his leg. He knows they could not fix this.) The celebration of a life well-lived becomes the tragedy of living nine. Slateheart worries about his presence being a detriment to his leader's health — existence alone does this well enough. From the very first moment that StarClan blessed him with these lives, he had felt consumed with the fear of death. How terrible a thing to grant a once fearless warrior. Receiving their blessing had cursed him, he is sure of that.

To die for his clan until he has nothing left to give. . . once it had seemed an honor. In a way, he knows that it still is.

A rustling of noise betrays his wakefulness. Slateheart approaches with silent permission. Since the loss of his life he has not been so content to allow the gnawing of hunger in his belly. Glancing down at the offering is enough to compel him closer, and Sunstar uses his remaining paw to sweep it in and feast. Somewhere in between bites, the warrior's words sink in. He pauses mid-swallow. Looks up. Finishes. Does not go in for another.

Their surroundings do not escape him. That this question is asked when his mate is so terribly close sends prickles of something akin to unease up each pinprick of sun-burnished fur. As if each filled nest is looking upon him. As if even through the top of this burrow, StarClan can peer down upon him and directly into his soul. It is a question that takes him off balance, undoubtedly. He remembers– much. And he speaks little of it. For all that remains in his head, what is there to share? A love story, Slateheart requests. Is that what this is?

"I did not. . . know," he admits. For how smooth his stories may be, the words are stumbling. There is a long pause. Still, Sunstar does not eat, but his gaze and mind are both miles off.

"There was a time, many moons ago, and many, many days of travel, that we lived together in the mountains. You know of this. At least what I have told you of it. There is more to it than I could ever describe." Every time that he opens his mouth, he wishes he could pull his history into the present. Combine the parts of him that made him — become everything that they had hoped for him to be. As if it is possible to be what they deserve; who he had always hoped to be. It is easier to remember who he was. To compartmentalize. To shatter like the ice beneath their paws in a distant memory. He is ice. His paws skid along it. Snapping fangs fix around a small throat, and behind him he can hear his father's paws crashing through the snow.

Sunnvar sucks in a breath. "We were young– terribly young. Celebrating what was meant to be joyful. A celebration of good moons between colonies. We were not quite like clans. Our borders were larger, less rigid. We would fight and make peace, and fight again with joy on our faces." He speaks as if he is old. An elder telling stories of better times. Seaglass eyes are far off in time. "Ellisif thought himself brave. His paws were still too large for his body, his legs long and ungainly. But he fought against the wolf as if he stood a chance at killing it." (A poor story this was, jumping between thoughts. He does not correct where his mind had gone.)

"He spent weeks in recovery. Though our healers were not like yours," as if Wolfsong is not one of them now; as if he knows anything about herb-stench and the patterns of leaves, "the cobwebs remained. His face was covered in them for what seemed a lifetime. In my father's nest, he seemed smaller than I had ever seen him. He would tell us stories to pass the time."

"I did not know," he repeats with more certainty. "I am not who I was. And my heart is not the same as it once was, either. But it grew like my body, to always fill the same amount of space." I have always loved him, he does not need to say.
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  • ooc:
  • ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.    ⋆̴͖̻̌͛⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀
    ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.

    82190121_9CSsSGfEk2LJ5dF.png
    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
 

Featherspine was a dutiful warrior as much as a dutiful son; he found himself wandering close to the medicine den often, if only to let glinting yellow eyes rest upon one or both of his parents for a few moments. To see their ribs rize and fall, the light in their eyes whir with thought. Slateheart was not someone she had wanted to see, and was in quite the mood to demand he move- but the tail end of his request stilled her, had a horned ear blurring in a flick.

Sunstar spoke in an intriguing way - Ellisif, your healers- like he was not WindClan's leader, as if his mind existed temporarily in the past and he had not built a life here. I did not know. That he was in love with Wolfsong was not something to be known, then ... Featherspine concluded it with a brow-furrowed blink. And Featherspine supposed it made sense... love wasn't, had never been for her, something that had come on suddenly. That had struck the head with a realisation, the little rap of a rock against a skull. Sharp, knocking, echoing... no, it was fostered like moor-heather and lights, and swelled like berries.

Featherspine swallowed, wondered whether, for a moment, there was anything within her that could relate. If her heart had stayed a child's all this time, while she had honed her body to carry all the strength a warrior should have. But... he thought of autumnal spots, of blue-ringed eyes. He thought of a smile that had followed him all this time, a pitching voice that had once wormed beneath her skin but now spotlighted him in sunbeam. Yes, his heart had grown to let Pinkshine close to it... she was not that same kitten, sharp tongued and needle-fanged.

It would be a lie to say that ... that it was always there, that blooming flower. Once he had, indeed, found her worryingly insufferable. Featherspine decided to shove his own feelings further back, instead eyeing Slateheart with a sharp look and proceeding to ask the question Sunstar had omitted. "What's made you so c-curious?"
✦ penned by pin
 

[ ༻ ❊ ༺ ] Lakepaw had been passing by when he overheard the conversation, ears swerving as he push his way through the den to listen into more of what Sunstar spoke of after the question, or well request from Slateheart came to mind. Something about... love, something he remembers from when he was a kit, of Frightpaw saying she and Spotpaw were in love but, that felt like a long time ago and he took a soft breath in before curling his tail around his paw. Even Featherspine seemed to of join into the conversation about his parents and asked Slateheart about his curiousity.

Meanwhile he stayed silent, trying to figure if he ever loved someone the way Wolfsong and Sunstar loves each other but none came to mind. Of course not to say he didn't care for anyone, he cared for his younger kin, for his friends but, nothing compared to what Sunstar spoke of or the question that came from Slateheart before focusing his attention back to their leader, the tip of his tail tapping the floor below him while his ears perked forward and he took a deep breath of the herb scented den.

"What made you realize?" he asked calmly, tilting his head slightly at their leader, did everyone know when they felt their heart flutter for someone? Or was it something that actually hits someone in the face, something that came quickly, hard and gave you little to no time to settle with those thoughts,
he never understood these things, nor did he think he would, perhaps he needed more time to grow to realize those feelings but for now, he enjoyed to hear the story of their leader and medicine cat, of their days before the clan, and finally getting answers to wolfsong's scar that left him blind in one eye.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Lakepaw AMAB, He/Him, Apprentice of Windclan, 8 moons.
    LH Rosette Lynx Minx with low white and bi-color eyes, blind in left eye
    NPC X NPC
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.