backwritten IF ALL GOES WELL 𓆩♡𓆪 MALLOWLARK

[DAWNGLARE]

Newleaf brought rain. Grey skies and muddied floors, but some how, it was not as dreary as a shower in Greeleaf, or any other season for that matter. New growth abounded, both the toddling of kits, and sprouting on Mother's surface. Somehow, you could not be so frustrated by slipping your way into a puddle when you knew that it came along with so much growth. Dawnglare's paws are dirty, but he doesn't quite mind. His tail trudges itself through mud and dewy grounds, but he doesn't quite mind.

When he looks into the puddle, though, he sees quite the ghoulish figure. There blinks foggy eyes, and a coat, that, despite being groomed just the way its always been, lacked its telltale luster. It wasn't about what he's done, but what he hasn't done. What he hasn't yet told. Knowledge felt like a curse in that moment. It would all be better if he'd had nothing to tell, nothing to teach. And perhaps as well: no reason to follow.

( It's a lie, he knows. A lie to ever imply a future without any clan cat could have been better. ) Grey faces always sag, when met with his own. There were, perhaps, two exceptions, and one of them was before him now, glimmer uninhibited by a less-than-perfect sky. Dawnglare approaches on unsteady feet. One in front of the other — it is not so straightforward. There is a quiver in his tail, a certain nervousness he afforded for few. A pink lip is bitten in anticipation of something wretched he ought to say...

Good comes before the bad. In the sigh from his nose as he lets his pelt slide beside his mate's. Stress threatens to mar a face like his, but first, he only closes his eyes. He stews in this feeling they have not always been afforded. One that the both of them desperately needed— and that Dawnglare would soon take away. Of his own volition, of all things. " Mallowlark... " his voice carries love, as it always would, with a name like his attached. But it wasn't as obvious as it had been, beneath the glow of the red moon, nor as it would be, bliss - soaked on a lazy Newleaf morning. The taste of what's to come is bitter, and before he can even say what he has to, he finds himself squirming in his reluctance. " Th-this is difficult to... explai-n, " syllables catch on themselves, and he is ahead of himself already, he realizes. " I have something to tell you, " is tacked on hurriedly, with an attempt to glimpse a dull gaze.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

• ooc: @MALLOWLARK backwritten to a wittle before the eclipse...
  

• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 63 moons old as of 4.8.24. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest. Delusional and very much stuck in his ways. The death of his closest friend has helped him none, in this
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

You belong here, with him. Blazestar's words remained in his memory like a blood-stain on his fur, the stubborn sort that'd never come out. In nervousness, in uncertainty... they'd shared that little agreement, and he was glad that it was known- that he couldn't be anywhere else. His kin remained on the moors, even through the hell-tearing, and even still he was a Skyclanner- he was Dawnglare's.

Maybe it wasn't the way everything was supposed to be- that his loyalty lay primarily with a medicine cat, and everything else came as part and parcel. But he lived for himself, and for the natural order, and both of those glimmers had brought him to Dawnglare's side and rooted him here, in the pine forest.

He questioned nothing when Dawnglare drifted to his side, murmuring his name. How nice it was that this was normal! When- one bloodsoaked evening it had been something so rare, something wrong-seeming and right-feeling. Not that it was any less special- no, because he met the touch of his phantom's silken pelt honey his purr, fix his smile so fervently. "Dawnglare," he murmured, adoration-drenched but softened with the sense that there was something not-quite-right. Gentle as feather fall, he brushed his muzzle against his mate's ear, whiskers skimming flowing fur. Beneath the skin, like worms in a carcass... ill-befitting, for a ghost... shuddered anticipation that set silver eyes with a glaze of concern.

I have something to tell you. With wide silver, he met blue, sky and storm, together forever. His fangs tightened together- the suspense, it was killing him slowly! "You're..." but he trailed off, realising guessing would only worsen whatever it was. His jaw snapped shut, again... inquisitive blings fluttered like wingbeat over grey eyes. "You can tell me anything," was what he settled on, meant truly.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

A nervous laugh, one that pushes his smile too high to be real and brings bells chiming, guilty, guilty! in the crevasses of his mind. He could tell him anything, he knows that to be true. He could say he speaks to songbirds and thread the needle of their word, and Mallowlark would believe him. That's what he likes about him— what he loves about him, devotion he need not probe a mind to see. It's crystal clear, no matter how murky the waters of his eyes could be. That kind of appreciation is what's always been meant for him... and it briefly draws a hapful purr from him, even though its a guilty, guilty thing. He's not in the rush that he should be. No, he cherishes the slide of their pelts as if it may be the last time they ever feel it.

That was not quite the case, but...

No more smiles, then; teeth tucked away. " I'll be going to ThunderClan, " quietly, he reveals. And he would let it sit for a moment, just a moment. " They need me. They asked for me. " It gave him some odd sense of relief, to be needed by an entire Clan. He'd had that once, but now he fears that number has dwindled to a very special one. He would bring him if he could. If he could, if he could... These wild cats and their borders. If they were bound for death tomorrow, and Dawnglare would only help with his mate at his side, would they deny them both, more willing to battle something they cannot than face an innocent smile? Pine swaths him so wholly now— and to think, Mallowlark had once stunk of heather instead.

" ...Will you be alright? " Will we be alright? he had almost asked, but such a question was not meant for him to answer. In his nest, he had prayed. This night, again he would. Did ThunderClan accept him, his song would linger there, also.​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

Silence, for a few moments... a few long, long moments. Not even a chitter of a laugh bubbled from him- nothing, nothing at all. Even breath reached stasis, it seemed. It froze in place, froze him. They need me. Oh, their old medicine cat had died, hadn't he? Dead, and unreplaced... an apprentice in his wake. That'd been mentioned in a Gathering, hadn't it? Grinning jaws tightened a little, and his fangs disappeared beneath a clamping lip.

"... How long?" And even through this, he was still happy to be at his side. It was why he smiled still, even if the curve didn't show teeth. Sadness and uncertainty danced in silver expanse, but he thought not too hard about it. Slowly, Mallowlark nodded his head. Dawnglare knew the best thing to do... and it was kind of him to help their neighbours. They'd always been good allies, ThunderClan... even when he'd been in WindClan, he'd met their deputy. Flycatcher, how was he now?

Yes- he could trust them to cherish his mate as he should be cherished... holding sacred knowledge, impervious to harm. He would drown them in their own blood if they did anything but.

"I'll be fine," he murmured, lacking only slightly in conviction. For he didn't know for certain that all would be well... and there was sadness in parting. He knew that intimately. Being apart had lead them both into snapping jaws, when they couldn't bear it anymore. They wouldn't do it again, surely, surely? "I need you too, you know," and his voice was soft, but feather-brushed with conviction. "So I'll miss you."

Again, his nose met the velvet-softness of Dawnglare's pelt. Herb-perfumed breeze butterfly-kissed his tongue. A reminder, in that touch... he would be here, he would wait, and he would always need him.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

In the silent space that remains, he seeks to fill it with only himself. He dares not breathe, he dares not to blink, for what if Mallowlark needed the grace of his gaze completely? He braces for whatever it might be, disappointment, sadness... maybe anger— even though that was a face he has yet to see his mate bare. Dawnglare has always adored his fangs, how they glimmered pearl - like be it sun or moon; how they gave him that beastly - impression, far and away from the truth. They disappear now, ever - brimming shine dulled by sadness. Dawnglare replies with a mournful coo and a further press of red - on - white. There gives a small, anxious flick of his tail. Impatient, Dawnglare leans closer.

" Not long, " he says. He wasn't certain what disarray he would step into, across ThunderClan's border. either way, Orangestar would be hovering like a gnat in his ear. " A moon or so. "

Acceptance comes. Of course, he knew that it would— what he dreaded, rather, was what it would come with. If sunlight brought a glint, it best be from teeth, and nothing of the eyes. No dampness, no nothing. Dawnglare levels with him carefully. Tufted ears angle for words only the two of them should hear. I'll be fine, and Dawnglare tilts his head in his, are you sure? But Mallowlark is not so fragile. Not so... frail.

" I do, " Of course he knew, because it was something he pondered and purred over often. None around them would ever come close to what they had. What sad lives, those must be. The two of them more than deserved their's to be bigger and brighter than the rest. For all that they've been through, they deserve that and more. This closeness was something that he'd never take for granted. " You are no Medicine Cat... " His head tilts sideward, seeking their union. " And yet I need you just the same. "

Between them is more than just Newleaf's warmth. Despite the circumstance, it went wherever the two of them did, together. A little coldness is all it would be. Just for a little while. " I will come back to you, " he promises. ​