I don't wanna breathe incompletely || Doeblaze

[SORROWTHROAT]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

Paws lead her to the cat she knows will fill the hole she leaves behind. Least she can do it make it smaller. Make it easier to filled.
"Doeblaze," It is... a new name in her mouth. But not, she thinks, in Floras. And that is who matters. Her war path had blazed it's way through camp. Slatesnarl. Figfeather. Howlfire. Blizzard. She had torn them apart, traded blows. Doeblaze probably heard about it. They probably went crying to her. A fowl thought she swipes aside with a flick of her tail. She does not wish to harm another - if she can help it. Doeblaze has thoughts on the actions she took today, Sorrelsong is sure. But that was.. the plan, wasn't it? That was the point. Besides, she has something more important to ask.
Swallowing anger and pride alike, she finds the older molly. The moon makes the white on her muzzle pop. It weaves the wrinkles and lines and well-won scars into a tapestry. How will Flora look at this age? Even as she thinks this, she knows there is no use worrying about what you'll never see.
"I, I don't mean to fight," She sighs. Weary. Tired. But her fangs are still sharp, if they needed to be. Her tail lashes. "I- look. Can I talk to you about her? Flora? I just - " She swallows. Pelt on edge. Claws shift in their sheaths. Her flesh deforms in tandem. No longer simple paws. The last time she had talked to cat about this... it had resulted in that hollow look in her sister's eyes. Those scars on her chest. That hurt. I did that to her. I can't... not again. I cannot be trusted with her heart.
"I encouraged her to go after - it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. I." Her eyes search the stars. Her throat exposed to the molly. On purpose? On accident? She finds herself nodding along with their twinkles. She is assured again.
"Will you look after her?" Dull eyes find Doeblaze's. She gutting herself. The next words a knife through her stomach. Clean. Effortless. Somber. "Will you look after her? Promise me."
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— A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
— 71 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
— aro/ace. ; currently not looking
— child of NPC and ANWIR :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
— Mentoring Mercurypaw and Plumpaw && Mentored Flora
— loyal to Flora
— hates Orangestar and Duskpool
— "speech", thoughts, attacking
— peaceful powerplay allowed

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Warily, Doeblaze watches Sorrelsong's approach with a cool green eye. The tabby cat's accusations still ring silently off the walls of the hollow and around Doeblaze's head. Words spoken in the heat of the moment were not easily forgotten, at least not for the tawny lead warrior. Sorrelsong had been wild, mad with vengeance; hungry for justice, selfishly so. When Doeblaze looks at her, she sees something simmering under the tabby's pelt, sparks roiling into flame.

" Sorrelsong, " she returns tersely. As with any wildfire, she keeps her distance. It's as if she worries whatever madness afflicts Sorrelsong is catching—draw too near, and it will singe her paws and belch sooty sacrilege from her own throat. Doeblaze regards her tabby councilmate—if she can still be called that, in the charred wake of their last council meeting—with a muzzle pressed into a taut line. I will not fight you.

The hard line of her shoulders eases a little when Sorrelsong declares the same, but only just. Though she meets the other's gaze steadily, all she can see is the pointed face contorted with rage, words dripping selfishly from parted jaws. Flora, she says, and Doeblaze stills until she's a statue limned in winter light. Finally, she exhales: " Yes. " Her own jaw tightens, fangs slipping against one another as she waits for Sorrelsong with a look that says, make it quick.

" …I will. " Doeblaze draws herself up wearily to what little height she boasts. Not because of Sorrelsong's demand—never will she be subject to the whims of a madwoman, or so she hopes—but because Florabreeze is her friend. She had saved Doeblaze's life, and if Doeblaze couldn't do the same for her, the least she could do was be there now. Even if she hadn't… the dark tabby was good to be around, too good to deserve what Kite had done. " I promise you that. "

" I promise it, but make no mistake— " she repeats, bluesteel determination gathering behind her words, " —I do not agree with what you've said before. I'll take care of Florabreeze as best I can, the way I can, because she is my friend. "

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[SORROWTHROAT]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

There is an undeniable sense of relief when faced with Doeblaze's anger. It dances over her pointed features, playing with the shadows cast by the moon. Could Doeblaze see her?
I don't expect you to. You hold no loyalty to me, only to that queen. The words press against her throat. She swallows them, instead uttering, "Thank you." To the elder molly.
Her paws shuffle, her duty done but something stops her.
"I know what I said was wrong, but - I -" Her ears sting. One because of Orangestar's opportunistic daughter and the other because of her would-be friend.
"Figfeather was questioning her too. Everyone else saw it. I just, I wanted to help." She shrugs, eyes not finding Doeblaze but instead studding the grass next to the molly's paws.
Doeblaze, so perfect and poised and respected. Sorrelsong did not mean that in backhanded way, she truly thought highly of the molly despite her anger towards her. Sorrelsong was never perfect. Never liked. Never respected. Not when she was born, not when she was a loyal warrior, not now. Nothing she ever did was enough. She was simply a nobody who cared. And she knew how much all of this would hurt Florabreeze. Thats why she had to do - there was simply no other way. I've made mistakes. I've made a lot of them, Doeblaze. Can you tell her that I'm sorry? That I did it all for her?
"I know I can't be forgiven. I don't expect it." Is all that she can say. Anything more and she might be missed when this was said and done. "What I do, I do in the name of justice for Sky Clan, for my brothers for Chi and for Florabreeze. And I can't stop until they're safe. " Do you understand? She hopes that she does.
She opens her maw, words failing. With a shake of her head, Sorrelsong turns to go.
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— A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
— 71 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
— aro/ace. ; currently not looking
— child of NPC and ANWIR :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
— Mentoring Mercurypaw and Plumpaw && Mentored Flora
— loyal to Flora
— hates Orangestar and Duskpool
— "speech", thoughts, attacking
— peaceful powerplay allowed

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Moonlight paints strange masks on both their faces, faces of comedy and tragedy that shift with each flutter of thin clouds over the moon. When pearly light passes over Doeblaze's face, it reveals little; flutters of dismay, of tension, beneath a fluttering veil of neutrality. Her voice is cool and heavy as autumn rains when she sighs, " You're welcome, I 'spose. "

" Figfeather… " she trails off. Is there even a point? Can someone as lost to vengeance's flames as Sorrelsong clearly is understand the distinction Doeblaze sees? She can almost smell the smoke, hear the crackle of splintering wood, see the soot dusting Sorrelsong's limbs. Rage scorches the pointed molly, lingers on her like woodsmoke. Contagious, fast-spreading, deadly. Gutting, and new growth is slow.

" Do you? " The tawny warrior's voice starts out low and hoarse. She straightens her shoulders, drives the question quietly into Sorrelsong's just-retreating back. Does she genuinely believe she's doing this for justice? For the good of SkyClan? After she's just piled more timber onto a growing fire? " Are you doin' it for SkyClan's justice, or for your own? "

Tension tinges her scratchy voice, but there's a genuine backing to the questions. Just how far gone is she? It seems like wherever Sorrelsong goes, she leaves burnt bridges behind. Surely there must be some reason for this madness, this destruction. The pointed warrior seemed so hellbent on her righteousness, her so-called justice. Doeblaze's voice isn't even angry; it's just weary, dismayed. " It's… selfish, Sorrelsong, what you're doin'. Nothin' more. "

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[SORROWTHROAT]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

I know. Do you think florabreeze will forgive me?
The moon illuminates her foes face, weary and tired and true. It is the most comforting, and dismaying, thing she has seen all day. She wants to curl up beside the molly. Lean into her, as far as Doeblaze would let her. She feels the pull Florabreeze must feel, as if Doeblaze was able to bring out the best in her with simple words alone. I see why they love you, she thinks, eyes flicking to the leaves in the trees and the stars above. Perhaps, if there was enough time, enough forgiveness in this world for the rage-burnt molly she would've dragged her smoulder corpse next to Doeblaze and they would talk. Perhaps Doeblaze could illuminate her misgivings about her brother. Her weariness with Orangestar. Perhaps she could tell her that Sorrelsong still had a chance. Perhaps Sorrelsong would be able to listen. But the tears that leak out only add fuel to her fire, they do not douse it.
"Whats selfish is seeing a problem and doing nothing about it. What selfish is letting your clan die beneath your paws. Whats selfish, Doeblaze, is telling someone - a good warrior who did everything right and just wanted to have a family for ONCE," Her voice is raging now. "- That they do not matter. That their kin don't matter, that nothing will be done when someone has admitted to murder. I thought she'd care. I thought she cared about us but she doesn't." A trickle. A drizzle. A stream. Rapids out of words flow from her mouth, and she is caught up in the emotions they produce.
"She doesn't care about Shadowfire and Smokefang. She doesn't care about Florabreeze and Kite. She only cares about her and hers. You have to be able to see it Doeblaze. You have to."


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— A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
— 71 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
— aro/ace. ; currently not looking
— child of NPC and ANWIR :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
— Mentoring Mercurypaw and Plumpaw && Mentored Flora
— loyal to Flora
— hates Orangestar and Duskpool
— "speech", thoughts, attacking
— peaceful powerplay allowed

 

[DOEBLAZE]

For the space of one moonsoaked moment, Sorrelsong nearly seems to waver. Her madness wanes in time with the slow drift of filmy clouds over the moon, setting a dim shade over the both of them as uneasily silence sips in. Muted moonlight casts Doeblaze in flat relief, in an expression that swings, pendulum-like and bladed, between hope and dismay. In that one, lonely moment, Sorrelsong nearly looks sorry for all she's done; more than that, she looks like someone who could be forgiven.

The silence breaks, and the moment with it; the moon returns in its lurid brilliance, and Sorrelsong's voice breaks white-hot into the chill air of a leaf-bare night. Wind rustles through the pines, sets Doeblaze's dense cheek fur to ruffling featherlike around her face, tawny wings stretching and contracting with each gradual gust. She sits in a quietude so absolute it borders on the churchlike, letting the pointed warrior rage for as long as she cares to.

Then, she lets that blessed quiet linger in the air a little longer, pockmarked only by Sorrelsong's heaving breaths.

" Shadowfire and Smokefang? " Memory is a dam broken. Bile pooling on her tongue, a long time ago, when death at the paws of a Twoleg trap was the greatest horror she thought she might ever witness. A collar tight around her neck, and Duskpool's teeth tighter around the twitching, dying warrior's. A mercy kill, Blazestar had called it. " Sorrelsong, they— "

She starts, then stops. Is there a point to an explanation? From the furious look in her eyes and the coarse rage of her voice, Sorrelsong is too lost to her withering justice to care. Doeblaze worries if she looks away, there might be foam speckling the point's jaws when her eyes return. An unfortunate end for a promising warrior, a dutiful one, but Sorrelsong seems intent on backing herself into this corner. The stalking lions are an afterthought; the point seems intent on heralding her own exile.

" I told you, Sorrelsong, I'm not goin' to fight with you. " She sighs, and it's weary, bone-deep, twisting up from the catacomb chambers of her heart and their satin-bound skeletons. " You want someone to yell at you, you've got the wrong cat. " Doeblaze lets her eye flutter shut for the space of a moment, drawing in thick, icy breaths through her nose. " Whatever it is you're so hellbent on seein' in Orangestar, in your Clanmates, I'm blind to it. And from the way you're actin', I'm glad to be. "

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