private LEFT AT THE WORLD'S END — dawnglare

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— politely, bobbie does her best not to let her muzzle twist in distaste when she steps into the medicine den. she doesn't particularly like it in here, she never has—whether it's the thick perfume of herb-scent or the perpetually dark, confined feeling of the space, she doesn't like it. still, occasionally her duties as a queen call—in these last sunrises of queenhood, she's trying her best to enjoy it when she can, knowing she'll leave the nursery alongside her children. though skyclan has several cats occupying the nursery at the moment, there's always enough motherless kits to go around; somehow, many loners and kittypets seem to take it upon themselves to leave their kittens for skyclan to care for. the small tabby doesn't exactly approve of such behavior, but she'll gladly take it upon herself to handle the new arrivals when they come in.

that's why has brought her here today; a reluctant but sniffling kit is nudged forward by white-tipped paws into the admittedly intimidating depths of dawnglare's den. she glances around for the healer's telltale rose-frosted fur, or at least the large form of his apprentice—who she would rather prefer, but she really needs dawnglare's knowledge today. she can only pray mallowlark isn't here, she thinks, repressing a shudder at the mere thought of his menacing smile emerging from the shadows. when she finally casts rosemary eyes on the white-dipped tom, bobbie prods the darkly furred kit forward with soft paws, anxiety rising like bile in her throat at the thought of holding conversation with the medicine cat.

"hazelkit says he has a sn-sniffle." she offers, unsure of what this means. the tabby harbors no delusions of understanding the strange work of the medicine cats, unsure of whether the little tom's runny nose foretold a simple cold or a ravaging plague—she couldn't hope to know. hopefully, she thinks, it's merely a greenleaf sniffle, the result of too much sun and kitten-play. the stars know that their nursery has seen enough tragedy the last season for moons to come, it seems. bobbie gives the kit a last nudge towards dawnglare, seating herself carefully to hear his diagnosis.

as dawnglare does .... whatever he does, she turns her eyes around his den. it feels different in the daylight—plainer, bigger, simpler, though perhaps that had been the strange feeling that veiled the last time she'd been in here. it's mostly empty, a bit dim without the lacework of moonlight to filter through the branches woven above. foreign leaves and blooms are stored here, unidentifiable to her, bleeding their aromatic scent into the air to overpower the slight odor of hazel. she's tangled in her own mind, her murmur soft and thoughtless and entirely to herself, "it's so much ca-calmer than when me and blazestar sp-spoke here."

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: @DAWNGLARE !!
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

An appraising eye drifts towards the shudder of his den. It was much unlike his old place of living, where storms could howl past and the walls would never give. This bushel, in comparison, gave clarity to ever paw past it walls; this one dipped white; pushing in a scrap of life. This kit was not the queens own, he notes. Blearily, he can recall... Yes, this was Bobbie. Though that realization in itself holds no weight to him. Jaws part in a yawn, and he only waits for her to come forward, feathered tail curling round his paws as he does. Hazelkit says he has a sn-sniffle.

" A sniffle, " sleepily, he repeats. With a last nudge from the queen, Dawnglare would leer over the little patient, nose twitching for any sign of sickness. He can see the snot dripping from a pink nose clear enough, and if he couldn't, he would've known from the kits sniffling every few heartbeats. He nearly begs for the child to stop, but he would rather tear his ears of than have kitten snot seeped into his ground. Dawnglare resolves to keeping his jaw clenched in compromise, beginnings of a grimace hopefully hid by the wedge of his downturned muzzle.

No, this child does not smell much worse than is expected of them. Perhaps it was one of those things that came with Newleaf and went with Leaf-fall.

It's so much ca-calmer than when me and blazestar sp-spoke here.

From where he remains, nose craned down at the child, eyes drag upward to gaze unreadably at the queen. Perhaps expecting her to say this was a mere jest, or– or something. His soul does that strange twist it seems to do whenever he sees the sun - bleached face. He isn't, though– Isn't here, and Dawnglare's head snaps upward, suddenly alarmed. Once, Blazestar would have been allowed in his space, but now–

It takes a moment, to recall that Blazestar had been here not to long ago. Because he could not resist having his throat torn from him again and again.

It is pieceing together so, so slowly, and he cannot fathom why. " You– In here? " You could speak– certainly you may, Dawnglare (most unfortunately) held no dominion over spoken word. Perhaps it is that the space was His. Perhaps it is that he had most evidently been away when the stranger had crept inside his den. Perhaps it was that Blazestar would rather speak to this strange woman in Dawnglare's den, than to him, himself.

In the end, he laughs. He laughs because he does not know what else to do; warm in a way that did not suit this situation, and one that left an unsteady smile crawling upon his face. " But why... would he talk to you? " he says wonderingly, not truly looking at her. The kit is all but forgotten.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: —

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— oh, she does not like it here at all. yes, the sun traces light dapples through hazel-leaves, breaking up the oppressive gloom; yes, the heavy odor of herbs might weigh sweet in another nose. it doesn't for her. she shifts uncomfortably on paws soaked in white, tufts of a tawny mane dancing with each movement, weaving and tangling yet never quite matting. hazelkit's dark fur blends with the den floor, dawnglare cutting a stark figure against it, dredged in crimson and white as he sniffs at the kit. her eyebrows knit together despite herself, curious; could you smell illness on a cat ,with the proper training?

he's not as sharp as she was expecting; they'd barely seen each other before, but with the whispers wreathing the cinnamon tom, she'd expected someone with a mouthful of venom and paws full of stars. she's proven incorrect; he yawns sleepily, blinks molten eyes at her and her charge, her words repeating on the wind in drowsy tones. pale eyes, shadowy in the light, more like a snake's belly than sweet rosemary sprigs today, dance about the den towards the exit. she's unsure; does she wait for his decree, for him to pull from a lake of knowledge in which she's never dipped a paw? she wants to leave badly, quite badly, but she wouldn't leave hazelkit to his care, of all cats.

it's her own words that break the peace of relative silence, interrupted only by the dark kit's sniffling; the murmur entirely her own, or so she'd thought. eyes that bleed sky snap up to her, nothing able to be divined from them, fixing uncomfortably on her; his head follows a heartbeat behind with a disturbing quickness. she almost glances behind herself to see if some rampaging monster lurked there; almost, before she focuses on dawnglare and his puzzling behavior. his words are hooked, catching, short; fire kindles in between her ribs, nervous and brightly flaring, not the smoky warmth of her last conversation here but a pain that scorches the inside of her chest.

he's laughing. it's what scares her, what lights that flame higher, is his too-warm laugh, his wobbly crawling smile; his wondering tone as he doesn't quite meet her eyes, not that she'd like to. hazelkit's sniffles go unattended beneath his paws, forgotten to her own mind, heat licking her sternum, a strange twisting fear. "i - we were chatting, af-after the dog attack, that's all, dawnglare." the words pour out too fast, oil to a spark slithering up her throat, a gasping and stammering justification. she thinks she may get out of this cleanly, might avoid any more of this, when a last tangled ember makes its way out on a whispering breath of soot, "we're - we're friends."

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: i'm experimenting with style so please pardon the weirdness :'-)
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Her words tumble forward too-quickly; and it brings him solace that she knows she has done wrong. Oh yes, he is vindicated her fear, and that knowledge makes his smile a hint more genuine. Tiniest victory, and it has paranoia rolling within him, leaving a ruff of red to tremble along his neck. That is all, she says, if she had a case to plead. That's all, she says, because she knows that Dawnglare suspects them well. Ghosting eyes snap to focus again. wide blue eyes narrow into crescents. In his effort to keep himself rooted, he is uncomfortably still, muscles pulled taut.

" Friends, " he repeats, and it's in the form of a breathless burst of laughter. He looks at the queen as if registering her as someone for the very first time, and in many ways, he truly was.

Valentine never had to worry about friends before, because in a room of faceless heads, he was undoubtedly the one that mattered. If Dawnglare tells him the sky is falling moons later, Blazestar wouldn’t even look. Dawnglare could curl himself up with some satisfaction, knowing that Blazestar would be miserable without him. ( Wouldn’t he? )

Oh the sunny smiles. He came to her first when he returned, hadn’t he? Was it more than nerve, to press herself to his fur? Dawnglare feels cold claws curled into his stomach, and he desperately wishes it were her instead. He could press claws into her neck till she answers him fully; he could wrap teeth around her neck just to see if Blazestar would cry for her, like he hadn’t for him; he could snap tendons with teeth just to see if he’d feel better, and he is almost certain that he would…

" Is he kind to you? " suddenly his voice is a coo, sickly sweet. Teeth are gnashing together like the pieces of his smile don’t quite fit together. " Does he listen to what you tell him? Do your words hold merit, in his mind? " blue eyes are frenzies, blown too - wide. " Does he like to spend time with you, no matter what it is? " Her green gaze makes him sick, and he ponders who Blazestar would favor, if Dawnglare brought it to him, hooked on his claws. He is pushy, pushy, not because he cares, but because he was no longer afforded such commodities; not that he cares. Not that it matters.

Unconsciously, he leans further forward with every question. He ponders if Blazestar afforded her the same lack of space. His smile only drops as he sees the kit at his feet, and a face stares blankly, as if he did not know what to do with them.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: I LOVE IT DO NOT WORRY

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— she is rewarded for her foolishness, punished for it; to confide in dawnglare is a mistake, to speak to him more than is necessary a mistake. his ruff of fur trembles, his vacant blue eyes narrowing to slivers as he stretches still, like a piece of crow-food on the thunderpath or a too-long reflection in a puddle. his stillness unnerves her and she's faintly aware of fear pooling in her belly like a languid snake, of the lilac mop of fur along her back rumpling with anxiety. his voice is a breathless laugh, pitched to insanity as he looks at her, through her; suddenly she does not want him to know her, to know of her, to know she even exists, as he fixes her with that undeniably creepy blue gaze.

"friends," he repeats in that hollow laugh, thoughts she couldn't hope to read undoubtedly broiling under that demonic smile. the kit between his paws is forgotten, his sniffles drowned out by the blood that roars in her ears as though she'd come across a dog, or worse, some nightmarish creature from the hellscape of his mind, instead of the snow-pelted tom. his voice twists into a simpering trill, a sickly cooing like a mourning dove, smile slipping and unstable, eyes manic and stretched far too wide, he pushes closer with each question, and she's frozen, unable to draw back—or so she thinks until she rises without thinking, half-stepping, half-scrambling back as though faced with a slavering dog.

she surprises herself, moving without anxious inhibition, green eyes unabashedly unhappy as she eyes his looming cinnamon form. "we're friends," she repeats, acid curling in her belly, claws curling in the dirt without her thinking of it. her heart pounds in her chest, fills her ears, but she refuses to defer, to bow down to his - his creepiness, soft mew low and sharp, "if you want to know, you can ask him yourself." the words have a bite she doesn't mean as his blank face turns to hazelkit, smile slithering off his face like an adder into the grass, mewing, "now why d-don't you help hazelk-kit."

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: sorry for how late this is :'-)
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The spell is broken as he's pulled back to the sniveling thing beneath him. Further still, when the tawny queen scrambles backward, and he feels a note of satisfaction in that she is threatened. In a world full of fools who either feared, or remained blissfully ignorant, he would always prefer the former. It gets something done. It helps, does not hinder! Even if a tugging within him says that something is off, off. (And that very thing in reverse would never happen. No one could ever threaten him, never.) The smile is long gone, and he regards her with a long face and eyes that gaze severely. Nevermind the irritated twitch of his tail. Nevermind that at all.

Friends, she reasserts, and Dawnglare is looking on listlessly. He isn't sure that he even sees her at all. He thinks of the moments where the sun smiled back at him, no matter what he said. Nothing to poison to his mind; nothing that made his mind crawl so pointlessly that it'd rip what they have up from the inside. A mistake, this all was. A poignant mistake. Dawnglare wonders, if this was always what She'd had planned. And to that, he would ask why?

The nerve the queen has has, to assume his questions irrelevant. It's not like he'd like to talk to her. No, he'd rather take her apart piece by piece, and find what he is looking for that way. And what was he looking for...? Something... something. She is but a device. She matters so little that Dawnglare does not bother to snap his teeth at her. No, she did not matter. A creature so miserable would not lighten at something that a star would blindly outshine. The thought puts a small smile on his face, and he is gazing at the sky through his branches. " The thing is: " softly, he says. " I cannot. " That is the only reason he was speaking to her at all. Nothing else.

He'd forgotten again, really. now why d-don't you help hazelk-kit. Sniveling thing, it would never be her.

Dawnglare peers at the kit as if he does not remember why they are here. " Greenleaf sniffles. I can do nothing for this, " he says flatly. " Bring them to me if they have a cough. Or a fever. " He would rather not see her face again– simply because it is not worth his time. Such a thing should not disrupt his purpose, however. A velvet tail sweeps behind him, jostling the herbs that he would not waste on this sniveling creature. He did not care for what she did; or what Blazestar did, for that matter– not as if he was thinking about him. The medicine cat's gaze is dreamy. " You can go. "

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 8.02.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: NWS AT ALL. <3

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 55 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​