private ink from a desperate pen .. cicadastar

[lichenstar]

It was a wispy place of quiet and rest... shadows of familiar faces moved in tandem dance and moved like memories in review, played and replayed and warped into fantastical ideas and adventures--

Not lately.

All that waited in dreams now was the red-tinted eyes that stared with heartless intent and cruel grins that spread impossibly wide. A maw of sharp teeth that seemed more monstrous than any beast she had encountered in the years of her life- no fox or badger could compete with the blood-thirsty snicker that followed her. Rest, rest, rest-- advice insisted upon and repeated and enforced and though the injured bird did their best to listen, to obey, to recover they felt the claws of a hungry beast in their back always, eyes in every dark corner hunting them.

Icy eyes opened with alarm at the almost life-like sensation of teeth digging into her throat and with a few alarmed breaths, Lichentail could at least gather her bearings in the place between sleep and reality. Tearing her visual path through the entire surrounding area just to be sure that she wasn't wrong (was she in danger even in the safety of her camp- Clearsight had been...) before lifting a single ear to strain for the hushed breaths of the young raven-furred boy fast asleep.

Determined not to make herself more of a burden on that poor child than she already had been, they shifted ever so softly to exit their nest and eventually the den itself.

The water moved so steadily through all hours of the night and day, offering RiverClan the calm ambiance it had sorely missed for months and as the moon shone in its brightest in its reflection, somehow the light was not enough to settle the fur along her spine that threatened to jump off her completely if so much as a leaf jumped in a way she hadn't anticipated.

A light step and then a heavier one, a struggle of mending shoulders that required so much involvement in the basic task of moving. It made her sound clumsy... loud... it disturbed the peace that every cat was enjoying. It disturbed her peace of mind. Settling to sit at the shore of their little at-home stream she stood like a statue other than the way her paws shook- willing herself to look into the reflection. There was a fear that hadn't been there before that looking in might show her something she wasn't ready for.

Vanity wasn't her primary concern in life (though her parents did always comment on what a lovely young girl she was... all those moons ago) but what could you do to get rid of the reminder of why? Smokethroat surely didn't have an idea on how to cope with that kind of loss- he sought revenge with every ember-fired glare that he shot, dragging it with harsh fury over the WindClan land he could see. Was it a resentment that no one could escape? That controlled them to dance a dangerous path towards an inevitably unsatisfying end?

The reeds swayed as she stared stubbornly ahead, unwilling and afraid.

Her ear flicked at the sound of the dirt shifting somewhere behind, eyes flicking towards the bottom right corner of her vision, tucking her chin closer to her chest as if to protect her throat (and adjust her view). With a hesitant paw, the pale cat turned to face whatever monster lingered there with an airy apology,

"Sorry if I woke you!"

@CICADASTAR​

 

[CICADASTAR]

pallid eyes watch her slip from the medicine den from tall rock. the moon slants like a curved claw and his figure remains dark, flattened to the boulder’s top, the long drape of his tail hanging over its greyed edge. sleep never comes easily, too restless a thing he was — skin crawling with worry and almost - anger, sharp gaze flirting the outskirts of their pebbles camp for threats lingering beyond the swaying waters. his paws itch with the need to pace, his eyes twitch with the need to stay awake, stay awake. corneas burn, but he watches the unmoving camp from above, skirting by the she - cat’s eye as she exits camp. escapees from the medics den was no rarity, but his head lifts anyway, narrowed pupils blowing against the darkness.

the lanky feline lands silently amidst the damp soil, curls falling into place around the ruff of his throat. the lead had been in such a hurry — an ear swivels. was there something he should know about? was there something to hide, something for him to suspect from one of their newest council members? surely not. the mottled tom parts his maw, tastes the lingering sweat - stress taste of fear permeating from where she’d skittered from. what was there to fear? ivory paws bring him after her, but he takes his time ; pawstep after creaking pawstep, icy luminaries flitting around towards the night guard as if on instinct.. but there was none. why would there be, when he could do it himself? the leader looks over a shoulder as paws push through brittle reed.

for what, he couldn’t say.

it does not take long for him to find her, rustling noisily amidst the leaves and she hears him, as expected. she turns, and the monster that linger there does so quietly at first — a long - limbed beast of a thing, slim and bony where moonlight illuminates the ivory of his sunken form. early morning fog drifts about jutting ankles, swirling in waves of ash - white, " to wake, i would have had to slept. " a simple response, cool germanic vocals brimming with a quiet curiosity. she’d not gone far — she was not going anywhere, it seemed. a kindling dies in his chest, shoulders seeming to relax against his consciousness. what had he thought? what had he been thinking? ” and sleep never comes easy, im afraid. “

the man takes a step towards her, haze swaying at sharp - knuckled paws. the night is quiet aside from siren song of crickets and distant owl, fireflies beaming around the swaying grass, ” does ravenpaw know youve escaped? “ cicadastar hums teasingly, settling aside the lead warrior to gaze out over where she stares — the waters ripple, pond skaters darting over the gleaming, star - studded surface. a nice, greenleaf night. if only his nerves would quell to match.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i.
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  
  
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"
  

​

 

[lichenstar]

The shadows part with flickering clarity, shapes moving like warped tendrils as if clawing to grab at the illusion of her shape on the crispy dew-coated blades that lived there. For a moment those pale, round eyes felt more like a threat and a façade than the welcoming gaze of someone she could trust, of someone that trusted her (he had to, it had been her honor to be amongst that small number). The smaller cat hunched down slightly, tucking her feet in tighter as the reeds parted and those curls of inky black became more familiar; the silhouette of a watchful king, come to find her amongst the pebbled shore like a queen finding a kitten who had wandered off too far from the warmth of their nest.

The answer is of little relief for his lack of rest does nothing to benefit either of them, truly. His throne of fishbones did not serve him well enough to give him comfort, to keep him safe- they could only imagine the way that crown dug like a rose bush into his temples, enough to drive anyone mad with the constant tingling pain, the way it never ceased.

She wished for better. That the smoky and mist-colored tom might yet find enough calm to close his eyes and dream.

In a silent motion of solidarity her side becomes less lonely as the king-fisher settles and roosts nearby, shifting his feathered form to rest and watch with a gaze she could not decipher. He was so elusive... even being this close felt like watching a doe in the middle-distance, reaching towards the bark as a helpless snack that might satiate a growling belly before it disappeared into the brush again as an unsolved mystery of nature.

"does ravenpaw know youve escaped?"

The lilt of his tone changes the meaning and just as quickly as the fur on her spine had stood on end for fear of what punishment might await her, it was quickly dismissed by the humming amusement that followed.

"Pray forgive my request if we might keep it a quiet secret between us," the blue responds, corners of her eyes squinting in a small smile that doesn't quite match the slit-pupiled stare that sits there.

It should be a relaxing moment of respite... why is it not working? Her toes curled as anxious claws sunk into the water-logged dirt, crumbling between them like sand. A deep breath to fill her chest with something she could pretend was bravery before she broke the early day's bug-song with a question, "My König--" A brow furrows as tightness wraps around their throat like a vice, making it harder to ask and harder to pretend it is courage in her belly rather than cowardice, "Are you ever afraid?"

Stupid to even suggest it, Lichentail chides herself- he is a monument to the successful of the entire clan. He is hand-chosen by the stars that litter every night sky and is held tightly in the loving embrace of ancestors since passed. A proud crane that walks through the waters unflinchingly, unbothered... Standing far above the petty struggles of the fish he wades between.​