private HERE'S TO OUR PAST LIVES — blazestar

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— her steps are soft, hesitant, under the dusky sky of first darkness; the path to the elderberry bush that shields the leader's den is unfamiliar beneath soft white-tipped paws. she moves like a startled deer on long legs and a small frame, cautious, nervous. the fruity scent of the first elderberries does not soothe her nose, soothe her spirits; she worries with each step. they have talked beneath the open sun in the space of camp, under filtered moonlight in a den with other cats in it. is it going too far to approach him like this, to .... to invade the quiet of his den?

this is what her mind says; it says to back away, to leave this conversation for tomorrow, for the daylight, for never. it's her heart that calls her forward, that betraying thing shielded between her ribs; not always what is good for her, but always what she chooses. she should sleep, she thinks, should nestle her doubtlessly frightened, now-drowsing kits against her side and get the rest she needs after a night sitting up waiting for an attack that, thank the unfamiliar stars, never came. but .... it haunts her, doesn't it? in more ways than one. the heart-wrenching moment when the patrol had staggered into camp, blazestar's huge form slumped against johnnyflame's shoulder, that moment when she had thought a golden chest would never rise again. fear. but at the same time, the suspended moment in time when she had pressed her face so thoughtlessly to his, that moment.

she shouldn't think of such things, she thinks with a pang, padding lightly closer to the shielding leaves of elderberry. is he asleep? stars knows he needs it, yes, she doesn't want to disturb him. she will call out, she decides, and if she receives no response she will do what she should be doing now. turn away. she can't until then, though, not without knowing, couldn't go to sleep thinking of unspoken words. face cradled against an unkempt mane, spring eyes soft and worried, she calls quietly into the den's mouth, "blazestar?"

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: @BLAZESTAR !!
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

He should be sleeping—but he lies on one side, wide awake and gazing out at the sliver of moonlit camp he can see from his position within the den. In his head, warriors walk on starry paws, and their whispers keep him from dozing. “Four lives left,” they murmur, voices velvet-soft unfurling in his ears. “What will you do with them, Blazestar?” They speak to him as though he’s underwater and they loom just above, tantalizingly out of reach.

Dawnglare’s anger sears him again. “Plenty of life to go around,” he’d spat, and the remark colors him red all over again.

No—he does not have plenty of life to go around. The sun is beginning to set on his reign as SkyClan’s leader. He feels it like he feels a dog’s teeth breathing against the back of his fleeing paws.

Blazestar raises a golden paw and presses it gently to the now-closed wound in his stomach. Sootstar’s gift. He remembers the dull tearing sound of his flesh parting beneath his massive claws, and he wonders if she had met StarClan too.

“Blazestar?” A voice—not filled with stars, tangible and real, delicate like a newleaf blossom—breaks the silence. He lifts his head, eyes focusing on the mouth of his den and the silhouette who perches there. Bobbie. Her thick pale fur is ruffled by the muted greenleaf wind. The honeyed glow of green eyes catches generous starlight as she peers into his den.

His voice is hoarse. “Bobbie?” He hesitates, but it’s a fraction of a heartbeat before he’s inviting her into his den with a dip of his head. “It’s late… did something happen?” He remembers the regrettably soft touch of her cheek against his, more alluring than comforting, and he makes a point to examine the moss pulled up by his paws. “Can I help you?”

Blazestar’s voice is low as a cricket’s song, beating away in the heart of their shadowed forest.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— somehow, she hadn't expected her late-night inquiry to be actually answered—tired limbs stiffen nervously when a hoarse voice calls back, her spine bristling. not with aggression, but with some emotion she cannot place (or perhaps she doesn't want to?). either way, he's awake, deep blue eyes gazing out at her before he dips his head in invitation, turning them down to look at his own nest. she approaches hesitantly, shakily, with all the caution of one with a heart held together by hope alone. it feels strange to be in his den, too presumptuous, too .... close, somehow. the space is much smaller than the medicine den or the wide-open camp; she can smell the nearby scent of pinesap and elderberry, see the starlight bristling along his golden pelt.

this time it's him who doesn't meet her gaze, eyes on the moss beneath his paws—suddenly for all of her own avoidant eyes, she wants to pull his to her own, to see the reassuring spark of life in blue depths. at his questions her heart thrums guiltily in her chest like a startled deer, an alluring call she can't answer; it had guided her here by its strange rhythms, and now she has no explanation. in the light of his asking words her impulsive visit seems odd and bobbie tucks her face against her shoulder, avoiding his gaze again, as she offers the weak explanation, "i ... no. i guess i w-was just worried about you."

she presses her face against her thickly furred shoulder again, the excuse (is that what it really was?) feeling weak in her throat against his more formal questions. she feels sharply aware of where they stand now—the leader of skyclan, the founder of skyclan, with a warrior ex-mate to be proud of, and her. a kittypet, really, without skills; who is she to invade his time? i should go, is what she wants to say, what she should say, but for some reason those words aren't what comes out, "i ... i thought you had died th-this morning," she admits, voice quiet but feeling loud in the closeness of his den.

fur rumpled by the breeze of her slow approach, she can't bring herself to meet his eyes now. again the words she should say linger behind her teeth; an apology, perhaps, for her presumption. her presumption, in thinking he would want her to press so close in front of the gathered clan, or an explanation. except she has none. all she does is repeat, "i was worried."

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Her movements are whispers in the darkness of his den. He can feel her gaze on him, faltering but steady—and when she speaks, he lifts his own to see her. She tucks her face against her shoulder, cloaked in shadows and shyness. “I guess I was just worried about you.”

Blazestar’s eyes become rounder. The starlight that flits in specks through the roof of his den become silver flecks in their ocean-blue expanse. “I was worried about you,” he murmurs, and even the hushed quality of his voice seems too loud and vulgar for their scene. “I was worried for you, your kits, all of the cats here who might have been hurt by her.”

What ifs are a chaotic tumble in his mind. Bobbie bowed in front of the nursery, her impressive teeth bared to their root, while Sootstar raises claws dripping with SkyClan’s blood to the delicate softness of her throat.

“I’d give up all of the lives I have left…” He fumbles, his breath unfurling like smoke, “…for SkyClan.” There’s something so intimate about her here, in his den, in the hushing twilight after the eve of his death. A yearning in his heart stirs like woodland creatures. It has been so long since he’s looked into a pair of green eyes that wore worried for him—it’s been so long since a cat pressed their muzzle to his, as she had done earlier that day.

Pain begins to creep into his voice. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry to have worried you.” He doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t want to send her away.

Blazestar hesitates. Silence spans between them. Finally, he says, “Why don’t you stay—stay just a bit.”

Don’t leave, he thinks inexplicably.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— she presses her face into her shoulder, shielded, but her eyes draw themselves willfully back to his. a disobedient gaze, refusing her thoughts, green snagging silver-starred blue in those careless glances that have haunted their friendship. friendship, is the word she uses, the word she speaks to herself; it's as flimsy a shield as her shoulder is now, a thin glass that she needs only tap to break. but she doesn't, as always, skimming its surface but never questioning (or does she?). it's a safe name for what they are.

"i was worried about you." he returns her words in a murmur, low and steady, and she wants to ask why. again her heart twists in her chest, a traitorous bird, long ago crushed into silence under the reckless paws of another—or so she'd thought. it thrashes against the glass of her mind, of the reason she's trained to overpower feeling; he'd worried for her? safe as anyone could've been, tucked away in camp with little to do except mind her kits and run the same tired, worried paths in her mind. safe, and he'd worried for her—out on the battlefield, out facing the might of the fabled sootstar's claws, and she'd held a place in his mind?

the proper words follow it, encompassing, telling; duty. it had not been her alone lingering in his thoughts, of course it hadn't—how could she have ever thought it was her alone? he makes her forget herself, makes her forget those silent vows she'd sworn when she'd been set adrift in life; makes her forget that she is merely one in a sea of cats he must worry for. heat laces her throat, the delicate shield of her ribs; its presence in the tips of her ears is a mere afterthought in comparison. it's as though he sets her alight.

"i .... you didn't have t-to worry." another short reply is all she can offer, safe in its bland impersonal words, or so she thinks. when she speaks to him these simple words carry an unacknowledged weight, the thoughts she doesn't speak pressed against the safe replies.

"i'd give up all of the lives i have left for skyclan." the words pull her head from the safety of her shoulder, make her drag her eyes to his again. how many do you have left to give? she wants to ask, choking the thought into silence, knowing too well that's information between him and the stars. still she thinks: how many more times will i watch you die? worry traces itself in the lines of her face, a concern she never thought she'd hold for another besides her kits, the idea curling around her throat until she can't summon the words she knows she should reply. a world without him is suddenly a crushing idea, an unthinkable future she prays she'll never see.

silence unspools between them like the warning of a summer storm, filled with the words she can't say, the thoughts she refuses to touch. the new memory of his heavy muzzle against hers, safe and strong and there, pushes its way unbidden into the empty space in her mind. she knows she should leave, again knows what words she should speak, and yet for some reason they refuse to offer themselves. her mission here is long accomplished, those shadowy night worries she would find his nest empty assuaged, and she should leave. but she says, "i will." it's his words that keep her here, in the close quiet of his den, unsaid thoughts singing her throat like flames.

you make me careless, she suddenly wants to say, the words arriving unbidden. instead she only says, voice sore with old memories, "could .... could you t-tell me more about your life b-before i met you?" she knows so little about him, she realizes now, and she wants to. she'd like to hear about his favorite prey, his old housefolk—the things a friend should know.

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

“I… you didn’t have t-to worry.” Oh, but he did—every step toward the unknown threat toward SkyClan had been heavy with thoughts of those he’d left behind. No, not Bobbie alone… but hadn’t she been at the core of all his worries, hadn’t she? Blazestar does not allow himself to consider this, shoves the beat of butterfly wings away from his heart. “I’ll always worry,” he says. He means to add, about SkyClan, but his tongue falters and stills. He’ll always worry. It’s still true. It’s still a complete statement.

The quiet lull between them is spoken with a promise he hadn’t anticipated. “I will.” She’ll share his den—at least for now. Blazestar shifts painfully in his nest, so that the two of them can face each other in the gray, velvety twilight. The air is scented with cobweb, spilled blood, memories, elderberry, of so much that risks being identified and yet dances just out of reach.

When she speaks again, it’s almost muffled. “Could… could you tell me more about your life before I met you?” He swallows, throat lined with feathers. “My name was like yours, once. My housefolk called me Blaise.” The name Dawnglare had carried like a badge until Mallowlark had cursed their friendship—the name StarClan had stripped from him, along with his old life, his old responsibilities. He blinks, bleary from poppy seed and the heady closeness of Bobbie’s scent. “I had a mother, but I don’t remember her name… she was not in my life for long. My housefolk were my kin. They were older. Their paws were the softest, gentlest things I’d ever felt. They were good to me.” He looks at her earnestly, knowing she will understand. “I left them for a different kind of love… but I will never not consider them kin, in my own way.”

A different kind of love. Surely, she does not expect him to speak to her about Little Wolf. He has, already, and her name still smolders on his tongue, full of regret. “I never expected to become SkyClan leader. I didn’t fight in the Great Battle that formed the five Clans. I was no real successor to Rain.” His blue gaze is clouded with the memories of his first full moon in the forest, ascending the Great Rock to stand beside fierce feral cats wearing battle scars. “I staked my claim to what was left of his group, though. I don’t know why, except I felt… I felt like it was my destiny.” A strange thing to say, and something Squallmist and Haze would have furiously rolled their eyes at—

--But even now, even here, with his fellow LionClan warrior, he believes it to be true.

He coughs, and the action causes him to wince deeply. “Now you… you tell me. Not the stuff I know—before. Before that.” The look Blazestar gives her is kind, not prying. An invitation to share herself with him.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— he moves in his nest to face her, spilling blood-scent into the air, before she can say something. his face turned to hers is more than she can bear and she turns her eyes away, guilt (is that what it was?) racing electric up her spine like summer lightning in the soft twilight. it smells like blood, like elderberries, like pinesap; it should sound like crickets and wind, but all she can hear is his voice and the blood thundering in her ears. it should look like a regular den, like a regular night, but it doesn't. it looks like more. it feels like more.

she finally turns pale eyes on him, silhouetted against the rising moon where she sits, as he begins to speak, to answer her question. she finds herself leaning in without knowing it, round ears turned to listen to his tale. blaise, then. a name so like her own, a name gifted by housefolk instead of the stars or a leader atop a branch. the den is a small space, her own lavender-scented pelt breathing into the air alongside pine, elderberry, blood—she shivers a touch despite the greenleaf warmth and focuses on his words with a soft mental chastisement to herself. the night makes her bolder, she supposes (or is it him? she won't entertain that thought), makes her careless.

he speaks of his own housefolk, older, elders as her own had been? perhaps; soft-pawed, like hers, certainly. he had not known his mother as she had, but her few conversations with other kittypets had taught her she was the exception rather than the rule—though her time with champagne had been far, far too short. his blue eyes are earnest on hers, the small tabby shifting on her paws with a nod and a mew, "i know most skyclanners w-wouldn't agree, but i think ... i think housefolk love us, in their own way. as much as they can." she falls silent again, waiting for him to speak; torn, unsure whether she wants to hear more about the still-mysterious little wolf or not. he makes the choice for her, glossing over the topic, and a gratitude of sorts rushes into her veins, warming her chest.

he speaks of his leadership of skyclan, of the great battle that formed the clans; an event she hadn't witnessed, a history she'd never know. her scars come not from hallowed battle but from kittypet cowardice. "… I felt like it was my destiny." some might call it childish, some might call it wishful—she agrees. it was destiny that had guided her here, from the paws of her ex-mate and the jaws of a dog and the claws of the loners to this place, to this cat. these cats, she corrects herself hastily, nodding again, voice soft and hesitant, "i ... i would like to think destiny b-brought me here, too."

"are you ... are you al-alright?"worry laces her tone like woodsmoke when he coughs, something that seems to come from deep in his chest, wincing, but he continues speaking and she trails off. his eyes are kind; they don't pry, rather, they draw her in; an invitation, a kindness. she nods, dips her head a bit for some reason (she chastises herself again), and begins, "my housefolk was an elder. i knew my mother .... we had a tr-tradition, of sorts, i suppose." she pauses, thinking of how similar it feels to the clans, almost, "she was my housefolk's before i was, you see. and her mother before her, and so on, you know." that she is the one who broke this vow she leaves unspoken.

she debates whether to say it, to divulge this thing that catches the inside of her heart like barbs, but it leaps from her mouth before she can think, "her name was champagne—my mother. she d-died when i was quite young. to a monster." she will not speak of duke, just as he had left little wolf to be a cat-shaped hole in his story, in his heart. he knows enough (for now?) about that. she shrugs, trying to let it flow over her back like clear water, but it clings to her like blackened mud. it hurts to think that there's so much she can't (yet?) tell him, that duke had held so much of her lifetime in his paws. her voice is softly amused when she summons it again, despite herself, "i suppose you know the r-rest. it's why ... why i like skyclan, i suppose. it .. it keeps that sort of tradition, that memory, alive for you all. when you honor your ancestors, just like i did."

she has barely stuttered as she's spoken to him. she doesn't notice.

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 39 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​