private IT'S ONLY FOR YOU / Cicadapaw

[BEEFANG]

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳˚❥ Despite her injury, Beepaw pushed herself up from the gnarled roots of the Burnt Sycamore and begins to search around for her brother, her polar opposite, and her other half. Her bat-like ears flicking as she looks around not enjoying the feeling of mud squelching underneath her paws and she nearly bumps into a few different cats that she's unsure of what clan they're from due to all their scents mingling and mixing with one another. It overwhelms her nose and she ducks her head as if hoping that would make her stop smelling everyone, ears pressed against her head, and she wishes that she could go somewhere else that was less crowded. Beepaw isn't paying attention to where she's going and ends up bumping into another cat, her patience running thin yet when she looks up its exactly who she's looking for and her eyes wander over him briefly before pressing herself into his thin frame.

"Cada... Are you alright? They didn't hurt you again right?" She asks him completely disregarding herself just to ensure that he was okay, he had already lost a tooth and got smacked around by a rogue when they first raided them. The molly sits down wincing a little at her own injury and glances up at him with a small frown, he looks so much like their father and it makes her insides churn for a moment wondering what had happened to Cicadastar. She tries not to think about it, she doesn't want to think about it as selfish as it may seem. Beepaw tries to think of better and simpler times... When her and her brother were kittens waiting for the fireflies to come out so they could watch them. She starts to wonder if the marsh has any fireflies.

𓆟. ° .• . WHEN DOES A RIPPLE BECOME A TIDAL WAVE?

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  ❥ 4 moons old
  ❥ riverclan apprentice
  ❥ sexuality unknown; single
  ❥ daughter of cicadastar and smokethroat
  ❥ sister of cicadapaw & starlightpaw
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ easy; still learning how to fight
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[CICADAFLIGHT]

tired. he is so tired. bruises and aches line the skin beneath his matted curls, and his gaunt frame is made thinner by the conditions. cicadapaw looks more like a walking skeleton than a cat, really, all skin stretched taut over too-prominent bone as prey dwindled. the crusted wound that notches his shoulder announces itself with a persistent throbbing, and the divot in his jaw remains lacking in a pearly tooth. a headache wraps pain around his jaw and his temples, digging down to the flesh of his brain.

he's trudging through their makeshift "camp", head pounding with the sound and sight and smell of so many cats. it's like camp when he was a kit magnified by five, a cat stepping on his crooked and messed-up tail with each lurching step or swinging a wayward paw into his thin limbs. finally drawing close to the outskirts, he meets a final collision with rage digging spears into his eye sockets. it dwindles like a doused fire when he spots his sister's bottlebrush tail and mirror eyes, so like his own.

"bee," he rasps, pressing his alarmingly bony frame into hers, jutting bone meeting thick curls. "i'm okay," cicadapaw confirms, sitting and glancing at his sister after a moment. "i'm fine. are—are you okay, though?" his gaze jitters over the wincing, the injury, pearly teeth snapping with a click of unhappiness short one. it stutters to the crowd of cats and he finally mews, "i miss being kits. i miss— miss when everything was okay. i miss when father was with us."

anguish tears at the tender flesh of his throat, words barbed like thorns he chokes back. leaning against his sister's solid form, ever-present, cicadapaw murmurs, "where is he?"

if you keep swallowing the anger back ✦ ( it's going to choke you )

• 

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  cicadapaw ; apprentice of riverclan
  x. he/him ; 4 moons ; tags
  x. unsightly black-and-white tom with heterochromatic amber and blue eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  cicadapaw is the wayward son of cicadastar and smokethroat, veritable riverclan royalty who fails to live up to his legacy. veiled in a perpertual miasma of internal conflict and rage, he finds solace in his anger when he can find it nowhere else.

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