JUDGE ME FROM ABOVE || daisyflight

Blazestar finds himself weak as he enters the nursery, eyes scanning wildly for his deputy's patchwork pelt. He's not slept, and the rings of exhaustion beneath his eyes speak volumes about both his physical state and his mental. Stress drags at his pelt like burrs and brambles -- and his movements are almost somnambulant. He avoids eye contact with anyone but Daisyflight, instead pointedly asking her, "When you get a moment, can I see you in my den?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He knows she will heed his call. It's not appropriate to talk about death and the potential of war in front of children as young as her's, and he won't do it, won't entertain the thought. Nor will he do it where nosy warriors can hear him and judge him for his words.

Once obscured by the elderberry bush, Blazestar turns to Daisyflight and shakes his head so that the silken ruff of fur about his face flies like a lion's mane. "I--we--we have to do something about Haze. About Sootstar and WindClan. But what? What can we do without making everything worse?"

He exhales -- the breath is ragged. "These cats aren't ready for more war. I can't be responsible for causing more death over the death of one cat. Even if he was Rain's son. But I also can't let WindClan walk all over us like we're a well-trod Thunderpath." He grits his teeth. "If she knows she can do it, something tells me she will."

PENNED BY MARQUETTE
 

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
Heavy limbs tugged themselves up at the sound of Blazestar's tired tone. Daisyflight had been prepared for this conversation, if it was about what she thought it was. The unpleasant situat- no, she shouldn't let herself gloss over it. The murder of Haze.

She had been anticipating their leader's announcement of the plan going forward. Because, well, something had to be done. Ears pricked, her right charcoal plume still struck with scarring, the deputy listened to his concerns. "We- we do. Thank you for coming to me. We are going to navigate this." An unusual nervousness piqued in her mind as she spoke. Daisyflight hoped he took her words as support, rather than as patronising. Though begrudging, she wanted this to work. They had to.

"I agree. No more blood should be split. In the past I might have strode up to those cold moors and tried to gut her myself... but... but. We need to let her actions gut her instead." Absently, pearly crescents slid from her paws rhythmically. She was painfully aware in that second, of the subtle marring that laced across her back leg. Groomed over compulsively, by design, it was never visible. Out of sight, out of mind.

Clarifying, Daisyflight sighed out, "We cannot retaliate. So we have to take things away from her."