i'm sorry, don't leave me // nettlepaw

[✧ Siltcloud.]

HUMBLE MY BONES WITH A CARDIAC
siltpaw | 09 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold color

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Despite her sudden bout of confidence in the face of fire, all her borrowed courage seems to have fled Siltpaw the moment things had settled down. Greif fills the air - almost as tangible as a taste or a scent. Pitchstar was one of many siblings, and a respected leader... if not the most well-loved. It is a blow to shadowclan as a whole.

But the girl does not care for the clan as a whole - never has, not really. She knows she is not quite right, a broken little thing, but she cannot find it within herself to regret her actions. She'd chose them again in a heartbeat. But... she does wish it hadn't hurt Nettlepaw. Dull green gaze have not left her friends brown-and-black frame since the moment she'd came careening into the camp with her sob story on the tip of her tongue. Nettlepaw, poor Nettlepaw. Nettlepaw who had already lost his mother. Nettlepaw who had shared her grief, had been there for her when even Granitepaw couldn't and wouldn't. Nettlepaw who's brother was now gone because of hers. How cruel this world was.

She feels... guilty, she thinks. It's a sharp sort of feeling, painful and bitter, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. She dislikes it evenly. Green eyes are worried, her actions warm but stilted, uncertain. She has never been good at this, not once has she ben able to say or do the right thing when it matters most. But... she want's to help him, if she can. Mouthfuls of feathers begged and borrowed and stolen, scraps of the plushest of moss, the softest ferns - all have been gathered together as an offering - an apology for a deed she will never speak of, will never think of again after today.

A plump frog, freshly caught and killed herself after hours of patiently waiting and persistently searching held in her jaws. She doesn't know his favorite prey, but she can offer hers if only it could make up for... everything, she supposes. Placing the prey down alongside the rest of the pitiful collection of comforts, she watches the boy with a pained gaze, the words slipping past her lips without her permission. "... Nettlepaw," She doesn't know what else to say. Is there even anything she can say? Would she just make it worse? Could anything ever make it better?

// @.NETTLEPAW.

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[.NETTLEPAW.]

So much had happened after Siltpaw had busted into camp. He couldn't bring himself to look, he couldn't. All he could think of was his mother's body, broken and twisted, and it wasn't until Pitchstar's body had been brought into camp did Nettlepaw finally force himself to look. And it was wrong. He didn't look right, fur haphazardly cleaned by cats who didn't fully grieve... cats who never liked the bitter leader, and it took so much in Nettlepaw to look at him, to see how... not broken and brutalized his body was, for the most part. It was almost wrong in some messed up, twisted way, to see how most of Pitchstar's body was... fine. And, afterwards, he just went and hunkered down in his small spot by some grass, slouched and staring down at his mottled tail as it sat near his mis-matched paws, gaze blank and glazed over with a far-away, shell-like look to it. His mind just rolled over every bitter glance, every snappy word exchanged, every time he had stared at his brother with sneering defiance and it wracked him with guilt. What he could given to have just... sat down with Pitchstar, talked maybe, before then. How every mocking word said behind the leader's back was replaced with a joke or some other sort of familiarity that would have ensured that Pitchstar knew... Nettlepaw cared. In some fucked up, twisted way. They were all the kids had anymore anyway-

As the frog hit the ground, Nettlepaw's ear rotated toward it first before his eyes looked and, finally, his head turned, looking dumbly at the things next to him. His mind didn't register them well, tail-tip flicking, and then slowly his eyes dragged up to look at Siltpaw's face before he raised his chin. Mechanical, unfeeling. His eyes, usually so harsh and glowering in anger, were puffy and red, threatening to spill more tears than they already did, sniffling past the pressure in his sinuses. Gods he looked so pathetic, he could tell he did, but, in that moment, looking at Siltpaw, he didn't care. "I-I-" He croaked out, words dying on his tongue. Part of him wanted to shrug her off, turn her attempts at pity and comfort away out of reflex, but she was the only one who had been beside him when he grieved over his mom and that familiarity... he craved it deeply. His brows knitted, lip quivering, as he looked at her. What could he say? What was there to say? His brother was dead, another family member taken from him and he was powerless to do anything about it.

"speech here"

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OOC Tags

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  8 Moons | Angsty | Anti-Authority | full biography​

  
  General Information
  - NETTLEPAW, Transmasc (He/Him)
  - 8 moons, ages with littermates
  - Apprentice of Shadowclan, clanborn
  - extra info
  
  Appearance
  Small spiky-haired, chocolate-tabby-and-black chimera with low-white and stark green eyes , reference by me(angelkisses) | 100% physical health, 76% mental health
  - smells like mud, wet-animal, filth, and just plainly gross
  - injuries, if applicable
  
  Mentality & Interactions
  - INFP, Chaotic Good
  - values family, equity, mercy, and respect
  - finds it sort of hard to trust others but mostly because he's focused on his family and ensuring they are protected
  - fears the thunderpath; has a resting bitch face
  - will start fights / may flee / likely to show mercy
  - skilled in stamina based skills | very weak in strength-based skills
  - attack in underline
  
  Relations
  BRIARSTAR xx AMBER | mate to [who] | crushing on [who]
  Littermate to Starlingheart, Lilacpaw, Marrowpaw, Twilightpaw, Ravenpaw, Dustpaw | Younger sibiling to Pitchstar, Lichentail, Adderjaw, Hollyfrost
  children, if applicable
  
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[✧ Siltcloud.]

WHAT AN EXPENSIVE FAKE
siltpaw | 09 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold #ddadaf

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What has she done? She knows it is not truly her fault - pitchstar would be dead either way. But... if she hadn't been there, would granitepaw have been caught? Would that give nettlepaw comfort? Would it give him closure? They'll never know. resolve almost wavers before she hardens herself, a quiet weary sigh slipping past her lips.

Step by step, she inches her way forwards, cautiously, carefully. As though nettlepaw is a wild animal ready to bite her or perhaps even flee at the smallest of sounds. As though she is worried if she makes the wrong move he might simply break. Perhaps they both will. Perhaps if it does it is only right - only fair, only just. Penance, punishment for her crimes. Words are hard to find - its as though she's swallowed her prey wrong, this lump in her throat, and her eyes burn as though there is smoke. Still, she does not cry - she does not deserve to cry. This is not about her, this is about him. As she takes that last step, she finally decides to throw caution to the wind - pressing her face into his fur and hoping he'll feel comfortable enough to do the same. they are no longer naïve children - or had they ever been? She does not know - cannot remember.

"I'm so sorry," she says, words soft and hushed and choked - and yet utterly insufficient. She takes a deep breath to try and calm herself, to keep the truth from spilling past her lips. His scent is an all to familiar one - not the most pleasant but hardly worse than her own. He is a creature of the dark and damp, herself the dry and dusty. Similar yet different. Her best friend - once her only friend. Perhaps someday not her friend. There is no way to know she supposes... though with her current track record it would hardly be unexpected.

No other words come. She doesn't know what else she can say. Her condolences? Meaningless words he's probably heard a dozen times the past few days. That pitchstar would be proud of him? How would she know. That it's alright? It's very much not. That they'll avenge him-? She selfishly hopes not. But she knows what she can do - be there for him, like she always is. Go with him on his stupid wandering if he'll allow her to. Keep him safe - from that rogue... from granitepaw himself if she has to. He's hers.... and she is so utterly done with losing what belongs to her.
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