private i will beg ☆ cherrypaw

[edenberry ?!]

‧₊˚ .☘︎ ݁‧₊˚.​

The void is an unwelcome comfort... one always interrupted abruptly. It felt wrong to try to sleep but hard to ignore; an overtired body struggles to take what energy it needs when the mind runs rampant instead. It was a mistake or a misunderstanding or an accident or- did it even matter? They kept circling back to the feeling like it was bile at the back of their throat, the way fear felt like ice. The way anger felt like fire. They were such unpleasant sensations... ones they thought incapable of feelings; they were just that nice, right? Just that friendly! What could they possibly have to be upset about when they had so many cool friends, a warm bed to crawl back to at night and a mentor that-

Tears burn like fire too.

"How could you...?" A question for many but to be answered by none.

Thinking about Tawnystripe is enough to remind them of their own mortal being, the fact they live and breathe, the fact their eyes had lost focus of the world awhile ago. Blinking felt like being ripped back to an unfriendly place, drawing them closer to reconnecting to the pile of flesh that operated as a body. How unfortunate... how miserable... how imperfect and stupid and awful and everything that was wrong with the world and-

Their ear flicks subconsciously, hearing something that their over-active thinking doesn't even remember catching.

Distant, distant still.... to keep away from remembering, from thinking, from feeling. But the sensation of someone close by snaps them to attention, flinching away as they tuck their chin close to their neck. Nerves jitter with the instinct to flee all together, run, run home! run! and their claws flex into the dirt as if to prepare to sprint at a moment's notice... but the split second reaction finds itself a silly thing when faced with a soft, sienna-colored silhouette. The black stripe down their spine, which had become akin to needles, slowly settles again.

She'd come home... and their gaze softens ever so slightly to see her. She floats like some sort of sun-dappled dove... like her paws hardly touch the earth, like she is untouchable in turn. Maybe if they were more like Cherrypaw... The thought leaves them floundering for whether to adore her more or resent her for it; what was it like, to be an unstoppable force? To simply have the will to do something, to succeed, and to do it?

They realize they've been staring, remember that they can be witnessed in return and they shrink like a wilting daisy under the shadow she cast. She was so perfect! And Edenpaw was just... They turn their face away to hide their shame, struggling to make peace with the permanence of their appearance. "Had enough of listening to Slate complain at you," they ask, striding for a casual conversation to deflect with.​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Edenpaw's eyes now remind her of Scorchpaw's, despite it all. Untarnished by the tendrils of flesh wrapped round their cheekbone, plush meadows of green lie in patches above their smile, the very same that'd heralded their passage into the mountains, as open-armed and exciting as the memories had been. They are nothing like Scorchpaw, she thinks vaguely. Where the tortoiseshell would be solemn they are invasive; where she'd be tender they are exhausting. The WindClanner had looked at her with all of autumn swollen in her gaze, colors gliding into one another like leaves and crisp air, brimming with end.

Edenpaw is none of that. They push and they push and they push, and while Cherrypaw's walls had never been thick, there was a feeling like they'd broken through them anyway. The daylight apprentice is none of what made Scorchpaw special, but it's no surprise she's drawn to the company of a friend. Cherrypaw thinks she likes Edenpaw for Edenpaw. Lingering is the fact that they may be loud enough to drown out what remains of Scorchpaw, and Stormpaw, and Little Wolf; they are exciting enough to pull her away from the avalanche of faces, one cry away from collapsing in on itself. They're there, for her, and that should be enough.

"Hey, Edenpaw," Cherrypaw purrs, lightly tapping the unscarred part of their shoulder with her tail. Tawnystripe is dead, and Edenpaw had looked a fourth of the way there. They haven't told her what'd happened yet, but the girl knows what it's like to make mistakes and pay for them with a life. Edenpaw hadn't done exactly that—they probably hadn't done anything at all. Why should it matter, then? the bitter, wrinkled voice in her head gripes. The most she could do was distract them from it all, like they do to her. Otherwise, what would she even say? "Oh, you know, I've always had enough of him," she smirks, but not without a practiced glance around.

"I'm on moss duty today." A dismissive flick of her tail. "And I was wondering," she adds, drawing out her words in an effortlessly tantalizing manner, "if you wanted to come with? I was thinking the Twolegplace," she meows mischievously, the upwards curve of her eye and lip making it very clear she doesn't mean to collect moss at all. "You could show me around, you know."​

 

[edenberry ?!]

‧₊˚ .☘︎ ݁‧₊˚.​

Her touch is so gentle it's hard to believe it enough to send their heart galloping, blood roaring in overgrown ears. She speaks in easy, breathy words and does not hesitate to dance with Edenpaw's weak attempt at conversation. She is, as ever, always annoyed with Slate. It seemed the journey had not changed that much but really, who could blame her? To be as ancient as that lumbering oaf was and to still act like he had swigs shoved in unmentionable places? It was not an attitude they would deign to have themself... kindness, though painful at times, was the better virtue.

Moss duty, is echoed for nothing short of the umpteenth time. Did he hate his apprentice? To always be punishing her with menial chores like she didn't have better things to do with earth-traveled paws and the wit of someone moons her senior? Edenpaw gives an exasperated, "Eugh, of course," in reply, shaking their head as if the lead warrior might be able to sense their admonishment in the ether itself.

They hang onto every drawn out syllable as she ponders aloud. A bid for companionship and one that the bicolor cat is not quick to pass on! "Twolegplace," they meow, narrowing their gaze playfully as the scheme becomes more clear. There is no secret stash of moss in those concrete-covered alley ways... There might be some gardens worth raiding but the trees of the territory were far more efficient in their proximity. A devilish smile is returned, frustrations quickly forgotten at the chance to have some time without an adult looming behind the both of them. "You know I do think I remember seeing some on my way here this morning," they reply, sitting up straighter as confidence for mischief finds their bones again. "If we're quick, we can get you home before the sun falls," Best not to get the autumn-hued girl into trouble with them.

They stretch out their front legs, eager to shake the tension from their muscles, before flicking a bobbed tail with excitement. An adventure of their own! And somewhere Edenpaw could actually be of use- nothing like trying to go hunting together and less gross than slug racing (Lupinepaw had been nice enough to participate but the reaction from others nearby suggested the goofy black-and-white was one of the few that truly didn't mind the bugs). With brisk steps they lunge towards the camp's walls, ready to be free of such a confined space. "Let'sssss goooo!"​

 

[Cherryblossom]

"Get you home." Once again, Cherrypaw has to be reminded that they don't share a den at night. She does not have to contend with whatever nighttime quirks the cat possesses, but she would gladly if it meant trading them for someone more loathsome. Her smile stays secure on her face, a pink ribbon threaded easily through her jaw. "Of course," she purrs. The pale feline's stretch is mirrored in her own, and for a moment they are just two cats stretching in the sunbeams, nothing more than the hedonists twoleg eyes would see them as.

Cherrypaw's saunter somehow matches Edenpaw's stride as the two break free of camp. A laugh escapes her at their outcry, and she picks up the pace into a trot. "Feels like my ma sends me to the Twolegplace a lot," the apprentice remarks as they walk, crunching their paws loudly into the snow without regard for prey or patrol. She'd rather be walking in the canopy as she does when besmirching her duties with Lupinepaw, but the opportunity for it hasn't yet presented itself in conversation.

Suddenly, a foreign feeling pokes its head up. Not a meteoric sensation, no throes of loves or agony to be held anywhere in her empty chambers, but a slight sensation. As though a lense had unknowingly been brought up to her eye and shifted the color of the world ever so slightly. All of a sudden, she is a little guilty. It's immediately scorned—she's enjoying life with a friend and sticking it to her mentor, what was there to be guilty of? It feels like someone was...not watching her, scrutinizing her, but keeping an eye out for her. Lurid green eyes, brighter than any needle or leaf, and kinder than she had any right to be. Cherrypaw was enjoying the life Little Wolf had protected; there wasn't anything wrong with that. Should there be?

Cherrypaw shakes the feeling off with a sudden burst of speed, rounding a little to face Edenpaw directly. "You know, Slate was a kittypet before he was a SkyClanner," she adds, impish spark returning to her eye. She has no idea, to tell the truth. Rumor must have infiltrated her somewhere, but where she'd attracted such a parasite is unknown to her. Some loudmouth around camp, probably—there was certainly no shortage of cats looking to get their digs on her mentor.​

 

[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 Edenpaw didn't really pay much mind to the rotation of patrols... They didn't go on a ton of them anyways (probably a good call, for all their lacking talents) and largely they just felt like moments of time where all their friends had real jobs. Real jobs while the black and white cat just hung around at camp to do less high-stakes things. Kittens were easy enough to interact with and herd around, to keep them within the camp walls - their mothers were outnumbered so the extra paws were nice. Butterflytuft was also just... really nice in general... they liked hanging out with her in quiet comfort.

"Maybe she thinks your scent will scare Doompaw off for awhile longer," they tease, knowing Twitchbolt might die on the spot if he heard such a suggestion within earshot. "Or maybe she just wants to keep you safe! I don't have many troubles in Twolegplace... it almost seems silly to patrol there at all." Granted... there were the occasional dogs but that was easily solved for with a lofty jump onto the fences.

They bump against Cherrypaw in a wandering walk, their gaze skewing their gait a little too far left. They relish in the contact, however brief, but offer a sheepish smile nonetheless. The flame and shadow dappled girl rounds on them with a mischievous grin and offers the most scandalous rumor Edenpaw has ever heard of- it seems almost completely fabricated and the way their jaw hangs open in a gawk suggests that surprise completely.

"There's just no way! Slate?! You don't think that's his kittypet name do you...? Wowwww.... the hypocrisy! He gave me such a lecturing when I wanted to join SkyClan and to think he had some secret Twoleg back home! I wonder what made him hate them so much... Does he actually hate them? It could be an elaborate cover-up." They lean down and shift a glance around to make sure no one else might be listening as they hiss a sinister speculation, "Yanno when he sneaks off for a couple of hours in the middle of the day- you don't think he's got house-folk around here he's visiting huh?"​