- Jun 7, 2022
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( * ˚ ✦ ) Blazestar stares with wide, unblinking eyes as Deersong shuffles into his den, guilt dulling her aquamarine eyes. She kneads her paws, over and over, and he's transfixed by the motion. "I can't carry on after you," she tells him, and mentions her kits, still in the nursery. He flicks an ear, lifting his bruise-blue gaze back to her face. "Then go. Leave me, like everyone else," he says, hurt cramping his voice. Uncharitable, childish, but damn it, is he cursed?
He sinks back into his nest as Deersong leaves, relieved of the burden he had rested onto her shoulders only a moon ago. Back to her kits, her children who will greet her with eager purrs. To her mate, present and loving.
She leaves his side to enjoy everything he's had to give up. Perhaps she's seen what leadership has made of him -- the whole Clan, nay, the whole forest has by this point.
The flame point tucks his nose under his paws, breathing in old scents, inhaling memories. The other leaders had not switched deputies like he seems to be doing. As erratic or cruel as some of them are, each of them has maintained a loyal following, but Blazestar?
Blazestar is showing his Clan exactly what being leader can cost a cat.
He supposes they should thank him for that, he thinks sardonically. After several heartbeats, he lifts his chin again, peering into the gloaming behind the elderberry bush protecting his den. The camp is busy but quiet. He wonders what he's supposed to do now, who he's supposed to choose. He's the one who started the damn tradition of appointing a deputy, and now he's left again with no one to succeed him when he loses his ninth life.
After what seems like hours, Blazestar emerges from his den. His tail drags behind him in the dust. A careless leap onto the Highbranch, nearly off-balance, sets him at his rightful place as leader of SkyClan -- a position he's held onto despite the blood its cost.
"SkyClan," he says, sounding old, sounding tired. "Deersong has chosen to aban--step down as deputy. I must choose another for when I join StarClan." Dark eyes sweep the gathered cats. He hadn't spent much time thinking about the cat who should succeed him -- what does it matter? He'll be gone, with his kits, with his mate. He'll be in a place without borders and politics and responsibilities.
At least, that's the dream, he thinks.
"I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice." Blazestar shifts, a cool wind ruffling his pelt coat. His eyes seize on a ginger and white pelt, a stern expression, young but resolute. He gives her a stare so intense every individual hair on her pelt must be prickling. Could she be trusted? Could she be the one to lead SkyClan, to take the burden from his broken shoulders?
"Orangeblossom will be the new deputy of SkyClan." He has made this mistake so many times now, though at least Daisyflight still serves on his council.
But he isn't done. He finds another pelt in the crowd, tawny and full of curls and snarls, and he gives her look that's almost as intense. "Sheepcurl, you will serve on my council as lead warrior." It's not a question. He doesn't word either of them as questions, out of some strange fear both she-cats will deny his proposals.
He needs cats to rely on, now more than ever. Thistleback and Daisyflight can only carry so much of his burden. He waits for the cats to say something, anything, to confirm his appointment.
// HUGE GIANT SHOUTOUT TO BOTH @orangeblossom AND @sheepcurl !!! we are so happy to have you guys on the team. i know you'll all do great!!!
( AND EVERY TIME IT RAINS , ALL THE ANGELS CRY FOR ME )He sinks back into his nest as Deersong leaves, relieved of the burden he had rested onto her shoulders only a moon ago. Back to her kits, her children who will greet her with eager purrs. To her mate, present and loving.
She leaves his side to enjoy everything he's had to give up. Perhaps she's seen what leadership has made of him -- the whole Clan, nay, the whole forest has by this point.
The flame point tucks his nose under his paws, breathing in old scents, inhaling memories. The other leaders had not switched deputies like he seems to be doing. As erratic or cruel as some of them are, each of them has maintained a loyal following, but Blazestar?
Blazestar is showing his Clan exactly what being leader can cost a cat.
He supposes they should thank him for that, he thinks sardonically. After several heartbeats, he lifts his chin again, peering into the gloaming behind the elderberry bush protecting his den. The camp is busy but quiet. He wonders what he's supposed to do now, who he's supposed to choose. He's the one who started the damn tradition of appointing a deputy, and now he's left again with no one to succeed him when he loses his ninth life.
After what seems like hours, Blazestar emerges from his den. His tail drags behind him in the dust. A careless leap onto the Highbranch, nearly off-balance, sets him at his rightful place as leader of SkyClan -- a position he's held onto despite the blood its cost.
"SkyClan," he says, sounding old, sounding tired. "Deersong has chosen to aban--step down as deputy. I must choose another for when I join StarClan." Dark eyes sweep the gathered cats. He hadn't spent much time thinking about the cat who should succeed him -- what does it matter? He'll be gone, with his kits, with his mate. He'll be in a place without borders and politics and responsibilities.
At least, that's the dream, he thinks.
"I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice." Blazestar shifts, a cool wind ruffling his pelt coat. His eyes seize on a ginger and white pelt, a stern expression, young but resolute. He gives her a stare so intense every individual hair on her pelt must be prickling. Could she be trusted? Could she be the one to lead SkyClan, to take the burden from his broken shoulders?
"Orangeblossom will be the new deputy of SkyClan." He has made this mistake so many times now, though at least Daisyflight still serves on his council.
But he isn't done. He finds another pelt in the crowd, tawny and full of curls and snarls, and he gives her look that's almost as intense. "Sheepcurl, you will serve on my council as lead warrior." It's not a question. He doesn't word either of them as questions, out of some strange fear both she-cats will deny his proposals.
He needs cats to rely on, now more than ever. Thistleback and Daisyflight can only carry so much of his burden. He waits for the cats to say something, anything, to confirm his appointment.
// HUGE GIANT SHOUTOUT TO BOTH @orangeblossom AND @sheepcurl !!! we are so happy to have you guys on the team. i know you'll all do great!!!
