i used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along [p]

[QUILLSTRIKE]

NOW IN ITS' PLACE IS SOMETHING NEW
I HEAR IT WHEN I LOOK AT YOU​

---

Quillpaw had never considered himself a protective cat. He'd stood up for others in the past, sure, but that wasn't so much because he'd felt anything in particular about the individual as he did about the situation itself. Sometimes, seeing people get treated like shit just pissed him off to the point where he'd intervened. It was never anything personal- until suddenly, it was.

Because with Twitch it was very personal, and that's the only word he could come up with to describe it. Every molecule of misery and grief that existed in his friend seemed to set off a possessive fire in the chimera that flooded through his veins and burned away at his bones. It had him hovering even more than usual, close enough that he was sure he'd accidentally broken the touch barrier between them several times, setting a mismatched glare on any who sent the other a sympathetic look or tried to bring up what had happened. Quill knew the other was trying to put it out of their mind, that he'd been throwing himself into work to the point of exhaustion in an attempt to focus on anything else, and he understood.

So he did his best to support his friend whenever he could, in what limited ways he knew how; be being a constant presence and trying to keep the pain at bay.

Days slipped by though, and it was getting to the point where Quill couldn't exactly keep overlooking the missed meals, lack of sleep, and the sheer look of exhaustion that had been steadily sinking its claws into his friend. And it had slowly began changing the meaning of that mantra in his head urging him to protect, protect, protect, and underneath his desire to keep the other safe from his agony came the impulse to care for as well. It wasn't enough anymore to just follow them around and try to keep the mood stable, because now Twitch was barely eating and always looking dazed from lack of sleep and Quill just wanted to take care of him.

It was fucking terrifying.

He'd never taken care of another cat before, had barely been able to take care of himself, and he wasn't really sure if had the right pieces to even try. He wasn't a fixer like Deer or Firefly, he didn't have the right things to say or that upbeat optimism that seemed to draw people to them.

Hell, he was broken himself.

But it wasn't really a choice, was it? Because that voice, the one spilling that mantra into his ears day in and day out, was something that ran deeper than any soley concious thought. It was a physical need, an instinct that he couldn't just drive out of him because he was afraid. He had to take care of Twitch, because if he didn't something inside him was going to snap and he wasn't sure he could handle it when it did.

So in the early hours in the morning when his friend had finally fallen into a restless sleep, Quill had snuck out of camp to hunt. He had made up his mind and he was going to see it through, even if it led to an argument.

He returned to camp with his catch clamped securely in his jaws, entering the apprentices den just in time to see the other stirring in their nest as the other cats began to wake up and make their way outside, Twitchpaw rising to sleepily shuffle out after them. Only -no, he wasn't, because Quill was quick to step into the doorway, all height and broad shoulders, easily blocking the way out as he placed the squirrel he'd been carrying down.

"You have the morning off. We're gonna stay here and hang out."

It wasn't quite a demand, but it wasn't really phrased as a question either, sitting in some strange in-between. Quill seldom made decisions for them, usually just following the other around, easily convinced into whatever activity was being suggested with a careless shrug of his shoulders. When he did make decisions though, they were typically spoken like this, a strange hybrid of suggestion and statement that seemed to lack the room for a 'no'.
​

---

skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

As weary as ever, Twitchpaw barely registered the yawn that split his maw in twain, green eyes idly flickering with heavy blinks. Wasn't sleeping supposed to refresh you? Maybe it had once upon a time, but Twitchpaw doubted he'd ever sleep well again. His slumber was continuously fragmented, interrupted by the piercing insertion of nightmarish wandering. Thoughts of things that had happened and could happen. Bodies he'd seen, and bodies he hadn't. Where his mother and father had been, sometimes it was someone else and sometimes it was them. Sometimes it was him, looking over himself... cruel simulacrum.

A reluctant awakening, then. He knew if he went back to sleep it would just be fraught with more terrors, so resolved to head out. Quillpaw would join his side, of course. Of course. Weird, that it seemed a given now... that the chimera tom wanted to spend time with him, and the feeling was very mutual. Usually Twitchpaw found himself worrying in any sort of company- letting his mind wander to thoughts of terrible possibilities. But even though Quillpaw often attempted to mess with him- and often succeeded- there was some mutual understanding between them that he didn't mean it. That below all the teasing lay a certain sort of fondness, one that Twitchpaw felt stupid for only recently having noticed.

As he trudged through the threshold of the den- or almost through it- he realised that Quillpaw had not bugged from the entrance, and now kept the form of a soot-dusted shadow looming over the entrance and blocking the feeble light of the morning sun. Baffled amber-struck eyes examined the tall tom for a moment, looking up to him with unmistakeable incredulity. You have the morning off, he said. Stammering response began to tumble out of Twitchpaw's wobbling maw, before his friend continued- We're gonna stay here and hang out.

Tangled fur lay a bit flatted, though the mahogany-and-white tom's pupils danced around Quillpaw's face. "I- I- I- I..." Incomprehensible, again- that stammering. And he was always trembling, trembling even now. With every stutter, an eyelid clamped shut in a spasm. It was worse, recently. His namesakes. The- twitches he was named for. They were always worse when he was nervous, and- he was always, always nervous at the moment. Since...

"If you- say so. If- if it's okay. I..." He was reluctant, a little, to let himself relax. But maybe he needed it. But then- his mind might wander. His mind might... he might... think about things he didn't want to think about. But it was rare for Quillpaw to suggest they do things. This must be a special occasion, and... Quillpaw had always been there. Always been kind to him, for some unfathomable reason. Always liked him, and... it was reciprocated. Someone to do nothing with, someone to give him the time he'd never been afforded.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

NOW IN ITS' PLACE IS SOMETHING NEW
I HEAR IT WHEN I LOOK AT YOU​

---

Quillpaw had never allowed other cats to hold power over him. If they challenged him physically, he fought back. If they tried to order him around, he remained defiant. If they wanted to argue, he stubbornly shut them down. Control in itself, was not something the chimera easily gave up to others. It's what prompted him to almost kill the apprentice who'd threatened him, it's what had kept him stubborn and silent in the face of Thistlebacks training, what kept him blank-faced enough to convince another he didn't feel a thing for them or their opinions. And yet, he seemed to hand that particular leash over to Twitch happily enough most of the time. Where they went, what they did, who they shared their time with; all of those things were seldom steered in any particular direction by the tom. He would suggest things if asked, would contribute to conversations and opinions, but in the end it wasn't in his nature to put up a fuss one way or another about most things. At least, as long as it was Twitchpaw making the suggestion or asking the questions.

And he only seemed to realize it in that moment, with the mahogany and cream cat staring up at him, the potential of a 'no' leaving him with an unusual feeling of apprehension. Quill wasn't used to having to convince others. If he wanted to do something, other cats could either join him or fuck off- there was no convincing them about it. Only there was, because like always Twitch was the exception to whatever ridiculous rules Quill lived by, and the raven definitely would try to convince them if they said 'no'

But it wasn't a 'no', and maybe he should have expected that, too. Because on some level, he knew Twitch liked him. He liked him enough to let him follow him around constantly, to share in silence or conversation, to just exist alongside him. And he'd never really thought about it before, but that meant a lot to him, that a cat he cared about might care about him just the same. It was a type of simple understanding, of basic fucking companionship he'd never been able to get from his parents or the street cats back in twoleg place, and he knew it was a part of what made Twitch special to him. Because there were a lot of nice cats in Skyclan that would happily tolerate and even like him, but there were few that Quill felt drawn to that were just as drawn to him in return.

Hell, Twitch might even be the first. The only. Because he liked the others fine enough, but there wasn't a single other cat inside or outside of Skyclan he could picture being like this with, hovering around them and wanting to just be with them.

"If you- say so. If- if it's okay. I..."

The words brought relief he hadn't been expecting, but he was grateful to avoid the confrontation he'd been worrying about.

"It is." he assured them, and it was. He'd asked if Twitch could have the morning off and had basically told Thistle he wouldn't be going out with him and Snowpaw that morning, happily taking on whatever extra punishments he'd throw at him for it. Thistle hadn't fought him too hard on it, but Quill had sensed the shift from irritation to understanding only when he'd mentioned Twitchpaw, knowing his mentor was sharp enough to have noticed the other apprentices condition and Quills concern for them.

"Come on. I caught us a squirrel to share." he said, leaning down to pick the fresh caught prey up before heading back over toward their nests.

He frowned slightly as his mismatched eyes landed on his friends bed, the thing half torn apart from restless, sleepless nights and neglected of the proper repairs. So, making yet another decision, he dropped it in his own instead. While he didn't like to admit it, the months of having to weave nests and walls together for the elders and queens had instilled a talent in the young male for nest-making despite his large paws, and he was secretly glad for it in that moment. Twitch would be more comfortable in a nest that was well-made and fresh, and since Quill was a big guy it was roomy and plush to help make up for it.

"We can share mine for now- it's pretty big."

And it was another first, because Quill and Twitch both understood that the other liked their personal space, and while they drifted freely in and out of that space with each other, it wasn't often a prolonged thing. They didn't cuddle for warmth at night like some of the other apprentices, didn't do a ton of physical rough-housing, had never even shared tongues over a meal like the other Skyclanners. And it was almost funny -hilarious, even- because if you said those things to someone else they'd assume the pair weren't nearly as close as they actually were.

But Quill was proposing it now, as casually as if it was a daily occurrence and with all the confidence that could naturally be perceived beneath his usually lackluster tone. Because he was confident- at least, he was confident in the fact that he was okay with this. He didn't mind sharing a nest or prey with another cat if that cat was Twitch, didn't care if they were laying in his personal bed or pressed right against him because it was technically only made for one cat despite its size.

It might even feel right.

So he took his place, settling down and making sure to leave enough room for the other to slide in with him, the squirrel propped up on the edge of it, still warm and waiting.

Much like Quill, in that moment.
​

---

skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Even as Quillpaw confirmed that his day off was, apparently, approved- and thus moved to settle into whatever activity he had in mind- Twitchpaw felt as if his paws had grown roots. Burrowing him into the ground, anchoring there- how could he sit back, at a time like this? Chill out and relax, let himself think about anything except doing? A stunned expression softened slightly at the mention of squirrel- mismatched eyes flickered a little less wide, pupils darting from the prey to his friend to the prey to his friend.

A squirrel. Not a bird. Everyone thought he liked birds because he'd always tried to catch them, but that was because they were a lunch food apparently- according to the inane ramblings of his faraway father, the most wandering and absent mind he had ever met. Now- now that mind walked with the stars, though. Was he just as insufferable there? Going off on stupid tangents... talking about how refreshing the sun was in winter because it's heat was cooled like the snow, silver, shining- that linguistic labyrinth he had always been forced to navigate was gone now. Was he happy about it?

Those thoughts, the shadowed kind that he'd rather not touch on- he nodded his head, purging them with the movement and shuffling toward Quillpaw's nest. Quillpaw's nest. It was in a better state than his, that was for sure... a much better state. Twitchpaw's nest was just as good as sleeping on the floor. A smile, weary and wobbling but tangible, weaved small across his lips. "Thanks," he hummed.

Settling at the expectant side of the taller tom, Twitchpaw kneaded his paws against the earth as he settled, feeling his breath hitch a little as it skipped in and out of his throat. Tangled tresses of white and brown brushed just slightly against Quillpaw's flank, mimicking a bramble bush in wildness and barely-there poking. Bowing his head he took a bite out of the meal- and given a few moments of sadness, chewing, he felt his eyes mist up with the threat- and then the reality- of tears.

He did not sob- it was simply as if his eyes were drizzling, a small and silent rainfall dripping onto the fur of his paws. He swallowed the lump in his throat with his meal, forcing it down and choking out, "Sorry," unsure what exactly he was apologising for but feeling as If he had to. Was he even apologising to Quillpaw, or was he apologising to himself? Letting himself down- letting the wall fall. He shouldn't be sad. They weren't nice to him, weren't... nurturing. Weren't how parents were meant to be. Why did he weep over them? They might not have done the same.

His eyelids twitched one after the other, a rapid-fire spasm, ever present. One of the neck, par for the course. "I... just can't believe we'll b-be warriors soon." And it wasn't a lie, because the nervousness for that whole ordeal was probably enough to make him cry, too. He'd not been a crier before- more of a screamer. But he'd done enough screaming. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

NOW IN ITS' PLACE IS SOMETHING NEW
I HEAR IT WHEN I LOOK AT YOU​

---

Its a feeling Quill can't quite put words to as Twitch settles beside him in his nest. Like walking for the first time or learning to ride a bike, it's the feeling of discovering your able to do something you didn't think you could, the feeling of flying when you thought you were going to hit the ground. He isn't sure if he can take care of Twitch the way he needs to be cared for, but he isn't fucking it all up either and that tastes suspiciously like victory to Quill as the other settled beside him and begins to eat. Because maybe he can do this, maybe it is possible for him to do these things despite still being broken himself, and that thought - that idea that maybe he isn't too far gone to be something useful- feels better than he expected it to. Because he can still give things to Twitch; can give him a good nest to relax in and warm food to fill his stomach with.

His flight, as sweet as it is, was short lived. His wings are clipped the second he notices the tears slipping down his friends cheeks in silent trails, and understands he hasn't fixed anything. Maybe none of this was the comfort he thought it would be. Maybe he doesn't know what people need.

He bites at the inside of his cheek as he considers his options, as he tries to think of what the normal thing to do in this situation is. Its probably something like a hug, right? Only, Quill has never hugged a single person in his entire life, and the idea of being rejected on his first try keeps him still as a stone in his seat.

"It's ok." he replies lamely, the words lacking the comfort or warmth Twitch probably needs in that moment, and he wishes his voice didn't sound so empty in his own ears. Is that how it sounds to Twitchpaw, too? Bored? Disinterested? Like he was constantly running on auto-pilot?

"I... I just can't believe we'll b-be warriors soon."

He knows this isn't whats truly on his friends mind, and he isn't sure weather he should just let it go or not. Twitch had given him an opening to breeze past the emotional stuff and pretend things were fine, and judging from how the other had been handling things so far, pretending things were fine was exactly Twitches gameplan for coping with it all. Probably not the healthiest, but as a cat who's defense mechanism was avoidance to a dangerous degree, he couldn't exactly say anything- Quill couldn't even look at his own problems, would even find his voice stolen from him if he even tried to talk about it, as if his body refused acknowledge the issue altogether.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that." he replied after a moment, leaning down to take a bite of the squirrel and chewing as he considered the others words. Maybe he'd been living too much in the moment, but Quill didn't spend a lot of time thinking about the future. Thistle had once asked him what his goals were for the future, and he'd disapointed his mentor most likely with the answers he'd given.

"I hope they don't give me a dumb name." he nots with a frown as he swallows his mouthful. "If I end up as Quilltoes or Quillbunny I'm throwing myself headfirst into the river."

Its only after this, when the silence wraps around them again, that he addresses the tears.

"It's okay to cry if you want to. I don't mind." and they both know he doesn't mean about their warrior ceremonies, he's sure of that.

If Twitch needed to cry, to scream or throw things or vent about whatever was going on in his head, he was allowed to do those things with Quill. He wouldn't think less of him for it, couldn't even if he tried.

Maybe if Quill had cried more instead of bottling things up, he wouldn't have turned out the way he had.

"It's normal to be sad. They were your parents." he says as he takes another bite of the squirrel, the words falling casually from his lips with all the confidence in the world. Because Quill knows.

He knows how much it sucks to chase approval you couldn't get, to bare those burdens. And while his parents were still alive and breathing out there somewhere, to Quill, who would never see or speak of them again, they were just as dead as Twitches. Had been, for a long, long time. That was really the only difference between them. Twitch had lost his parents suddenly and violently, without choice.

Quills had been a slow death, something he'd tried to deny again and again, telling himself things would get better if he could just be better, but no. He'd been living with ghosts, with fucking shells of cats who'd once been a family. Whatever love he'd had, whatever hope he'd squandered away in hopes of salvaging it later on, had withered away in his paws until he too was just a shell, dead on the inside, afraid and angry.

Hurting.

And even after everything they'd put him through, everything they had and hadn't done to him that had resulted in the emotional fuck-up sitting there today, he'd still mourned for what they should have been. Still mourned for the mother whose touch he'd never truly know, for the bright-eyed sister who he'd never been a proper big brother to, for the man who'd beaten and ignored and humiliated him at every turn when all Quill had ever wanted was his acceptence.

No, his family was long gone, as lifeless to him as the stones on the ground, but he'd still missed them.
​

---

skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

He figured they might have moved past the crying thing- Quillpaw shrugged it off, saying it was fine, and Twitchpaw thought that was what he wanted. Pushing away the empty feeling in his chest, it felt good enough to look toward the future. To look forward to a time when he probably wouldn't feel like this, that he might have forgotten them and forgotten everything that they did and didn't mean to him.

He wasn't particularly surprised that Quillpaw had forgotten that they were to come warriors soon. The thought was almost insulting to the chimera, but it wasn't intended as such- Quillpaw seemed to take each day as it came, mainly concerned with the moment and not the bigger picture and vaster consequences, Twitchpaw's perfect opposite. In some ways he wished he was like that- someone who could put wilder and more spiralling concerns behind him, could forget about them and throw them to the curb. Quilltoes or Quillbunny- it made him laugh all of a sudden, small and hoarse, the idea of Quillpaw getting such an affectionate warrior name. Tall and dark, the other apprentice was anything but cute- "No, Quill- Quillbunny totally suits you. Sh-should tell Blazestar that one," he joked, lightly bumping Quillpaw's shoulder with his own. For a moment he had forgotten...

It was not good to forget. And he was not upset at Quillpaw for reminding him of it once silence had fallen between them again. And- well, why would he be crying if he didn't feel like he needed to? Yet- part of him didn't feel like he needed to. Didn't feel like he should. They didn't... didn't deserve it. All they'd weep for, had the situation been reversed, would be the loss of an errand-boy. The inconvenience of catching their own food. Eyes aswim with the wobble of tears, he cast his gaze over to the taler tom, expression pulled in a quavering frown. It's normal to be sad. They were your parents.

"I just-" His voice caught in his throat, catching. Tone thickened with the presence of tears, he let himself go. "Why should I be sad? They- they didn't even like me. They didn't- want anything to do with me really. And, and they weren't even mean, it was just- so obvious they preferred each other. They probably wouldn't have- have cried if... if it was me." And that was a horrible accusation to make, but he felt it in the moment. And felt how selfish he was being, talking so much, but... but Quillpaw had said it would be alright. Alright to be upset, so- this was his upset.

And yet, the tears began to fall again. Like a leaking tap- a drip from his eyes, there without fanfare, teardrops that dripped as he blinked and twitched. "But I am sad. I- I think maybe they could have... they could have learned to be better for me. M-Maybe they were learning, because- because why else were they hunting? I think- they listened to me. For the first time ever. And- and then they died." In rambling, had he hit the nail on the head? That he was not simply mourning them, but mourning what he had missed?

"Sorry, I just- spat that all out." Stupid, stupid, stupid- why would Quillpaw want to hear all of that? He'd said it was alright, though- said it was okay. To cry, and he was crying now. He felt the tears wobble in his throat, the sobs shuddering his breaths.​

penned by pin ✧​