loser — prompt

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
It’s time to head back. Someone called out, breaking Dawnstorm out of his concentrated stupor. He blinked several times, glancing down at his small catch comprising two small-sized fishes, barely able to feed a full-grown warrior, no less a growing kit.

The bi-colored male frowned, glancing at the others on this hunting expedition, noting how they appeared unbothered, but relieved to be returning to the warmth of camp that did little to settle his bundling nerves. “I’ll stay.” He voiced, glancing up. It wasn’t fair and no doubt his father would be disappointed in him for not bringing more. Nothing, but perfection. Something that Dawnstorm will never be with dual-toned hues and skills that remained lacking.

He breathed, watching the fog cloud around his frost-bitten muzzle, numb from the cold water that plugged his nose, outright terrifying him if he hadn’t prepared himself mentally. He huffed, expression narrowing. “I’ll return soon.” He added, glancing up at the others, tone deadpan. Really. He will return once he hunts an acceptable amount, even if he stays out here the entire night.

The ex-Ripple colonist shifted on numb haunches, peeking over the edge and into the frigid waters below, expression serious. Just a few more. He remained himself, lips puckered in harrowing determination. Enough to make Father proud. It reminded him of times before they joined RiverClan. When the other demanded he returned with the prey of various quantities, no matter how long it took to accomplish. It was tiring, chasing after rabbits faster than he’d like to admit and fish he could barely snatch between his teeth unless he risked getting water up his nose. Admittedly, Dawnstorm had that happen far more when he stuck his head into the water, waiting potentially until something grew curious of his gaping jaws.

Everything he knew, no less had been taught since birth was being ripped out from beneath him and that confused him more than anything. How could they be so … strange? Perhaps it was something that Dawnstorm wasn’t privy to.

Humming softly, Dawnstorm nudged the nose fish toward another. “Carry them.” Naturally, his tone was off, sounding like an order rather than a genuine question.

It was better to eat them fresh, in his opinion.
thought speech
 
“Someone sure is bossy, aren’t they?” Aspenhaze retorts at Dawnstorm’s ambiguous statement, though they understood what he meant. It’s still fun to tease him, though.

The tortoiseshell point decided to stay behind with him, willing to endure the coldness of night should it come to that. They can understand to an extent striving for absolute perfection, that it raises to the point of becoming detrimental.

Aspenhaze only wishes that the colony cat understood that it is already the beginning of a harsh season, and less prey is to be expected. It seems logical to them, but maybe it really isn’t that clear. “You don’t have to try to hunt any more than you have, really. In Leaf-bare, anything is precious. You’ve done your share of the work, why hurt yourself more? We’ll need you as it gets later in the season.”

They hope that if anything would work, it’s getting Dawnstorm to see that he can be more useful when he is not overworked. They can tell that the weather is already getting to them. Part of them doubts that he’ll actually take their advice to heart…but maybe he’ll prove them wrong, they’ll just have to see.​
 
A brown tabby would interrupt the pair. "Nah, that's just how Kaede speaks." Forgive her for not calling him Dawnstorm. She's known him since forever that it's still strange to call him anything other than Kaede. It should be clear enough who she is talking about considering the pair had both come from the Ripple Colony and kept to themselves more or less. "He's got a way with words, a charmer." By no means it's an insult despite the fact that she's being a little sarcastic.

Every Leaf-bare they call it? Without fail Dawnstorm pushes himself more than anyone should really. It's all because of his lousy excuse of a father which still has his venomous grip on her friend. Aspenhaze wouldn't have known or at least she assumes he wouldn't. With a wave of her paw and a shrug she answers for Dawnstorm. "He ain't gonna listen to you. Trust me, he'll keep going at it like this. Only cat he'd really listen to is his old man." Old man means father in this context. Although it shouldn't be that much of a stretch to understand.

  • cedarblaze / riverclan warrior / feminine pronouns / 24 moons
    — pansexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
    — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
    biography / @ on discord for plots
 
die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He nearly winced, jaws snapping shut with an audible clink. He hadn’t meant it harshly, nor did he want to demand someone of something that they didn’t want to do, but perhaps Dawnstorm was overthinking things. Again. He breathed through an open maw, merely turning away to stare at the water’s edge with lowered brows, lips settling into a determined grimace.

Cedarblaze spoke next, offering a simple explanation that he nodded to, albeit slowly, uncertain in his movements. He never was good with his words, and he had Cedarblaze or Frondfeather to look toward when his words failed, but there’s successful.

A snort escaped his parting maw, ears angled toward the two. “I am?” He wondered, brow rising against bi-colored fur. “But I wasn’t trying to—” He uttered, only to pause mid-sentence, blinking languidly. “Oh.” He breathed, tugging at the cold ground with his claws. Not literal. He reminded himself. Figure of speech. He grumbled, almost pouting if he hadn’t reminded himself of why he wanted to stay.

Dawnstorm remained silent, letting Cedarblaze answer for him. He would be only repeating the other’s words, although … less wordy. He merely hummed, bi-colored hues narrowing. It was important to him. To do better. To one day see a look of pride on his father’s face for something he had done, no matter how far that dream was out of reach. “I listen.” He couldn’t help but add, helm turning to peer at the other.
thought speech