MERELY A MADNESS \ dawnglare

[MALLOWLARK]

The sky bruised with dusk, usually a welcoming sight. Nights reminded him of stolen moments beneath a wounded moon, of a catmint exchange... but at the end of the day in the era of illness, now all he could think of was how little he had seen his mate through the day. He grinned and bore it, but as the days ebbed on and more souls wept to the stars, he'd found himself distracted. He couldn't pretend to be content, couldn't act as if he wasn't worried. In Dawnglare's eyes, all those moons ago, he'd seen concern- but this unprecedented bewilderment, and the sense of hopelessness that was beginning to creep across the ground like hoarfrost, was new.

Inky paws carried him towards Dawnglare the moment he saw him. He didn't waste a moment, and hardly had to think about it. The sickness was forgotten with the sight of him, and his blood felt like it was going to burst out of an invisible wound. Before he could fully sink into his warmth, though... he stopped. Electricity prickled at the tip of his tongue.

"You'd know if you w-were sick, wouldn't you?" Oh, he hated how his voice sounded. Tremulous, when he hadn't meant it to be. A night-dipped paw tapped heartbeat rhythm upon the ground, fretfulness seizing him.

\ @DAWNGLARE ! ​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Perhaps unconsciously, he has drifted away. Despite the pristine white of his paws, sickness clings to them invisibly, and despite his clear throat (that only scratched with uncertainty, surely) and his fresh mind (that only clouded with worry, certainly), he knows not how this particular sickness prefers to lie and wait; whether it was safe to place his paws upon anything worthwhile.

Denying Mallowlark anything made him feel terrible in a way he felt for no other, though. He is still as stone as sooty paws pivot toward him. An attempt is made not to show the ruffling of his feathers. He does not fully veer away, but the ghost of an inclination is there with the shuffling of paws in the dirt and tail held away from a rust - lit coat. He tries not to worry his lip as he’d like to. Leaf - litter clings to him more than it ever has before.

You’d know if you were sick, wouldn’t you? The tone makes him sink a bit into himself, and he puzzles this with a wide - eyed stare. " I have never fallen ill. Not once, " he tells him honestly. He cannot fall sick. Mother is what made that fact reality. He knows it to be true, but uneasily, he prickles… The claw he feels pressed against his throat is all nerves, surely. And this – they had in common, he sees in the neurotic tremors. " I… uh, I su - pose I would, " discontentedly, he grouses, resisting the urge to pluck at his own pelt.

He sounds skittish – like this, and… there was no need for the both of them to be nervous. Not really. He tries to lighten his frown, and a fox - like face gives way to something more strange than sad. " It’s you that I’m… most worried for. You shouldn’t – hmm – who knows what is on me… " His frown seeps through, anyways.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 8.22.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

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• ( 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

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[MALLOWLARK]

There was still something there- an invisible barrier, static crackling between them that kept them away when that was surely what neither of them wanted. But he understood, he understood, as well as he could. Dawnglare was always near the sick- it was hardly thought-of when injury kept the patients down, or catmint-fended illnesses, but this was new. New and uncertain. And Mallowlark was unsure he had ever seen Dawnglare quite so uncertain. He was decidedly certain in his assurance, though... I have never fallen ill- and Mallowlark nodded, grateful, knowing.

His teeth chattered, slightly-shown in his grin. Worry still fringed around him; he could not help it. He choked a laugh behind his fangs, knowing nothing was funny. His body seized for a moment with the act. To hear Dawnglare admit his worry was disconcerting, and to see the frown on his face... he'd tear it off if it didn't sit on that face, for the sight of it made him feel ill already even without miasma seeping into his skin. Instead, he took a step forward, wide silver eyes aswim and sorrowful.

"You cured me before..." and he knew it was different, a different illness, but he never doubted that in Dawnglare's paws he was safe. He would never trust anyone else with teetering life, with this level of uncertainty. And it was selfish, this yearning. To defy what was probably safest. Dawnglare was an important cat, he'd known that from the moment he'd met him. Important enough to whisper to nature and to hear it talk back- he only wished the land could give him answers to quell his fretting and to tie them together again.

Again, he glanced to the brighter side, though even that was shrouded. "I won't die as long as you're here to look after me." He was sure of it. Both of them had been through enough to earn their happiness by now, surely? He couldn't assure Dawnglare he would not grow ill, but he could reaffirm his belief in his mate over and over and over, until he ran out of breath. Mallowlark still did not step closer. "And, I... want to be near you..." A sigh shuddered from between his teeth. I'll be here, whenever you want. Is that what he'd said? Something like it. "I want to look after you, too."​

☺PENNED BY PIN​