MORE THAN TRUTH ✘ lichentail

[SMOKESTAR]

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"I'm glad you've recovered well." It was a relief to see Lichentail out of the medicine cat den and roaming the camp once more, he had fretted internally over his deputy the entire time leading to the confrontation with the rogues; in part due to wishing she could have been present at his side but also genuine concern she wouldn't make it or the injuries would be more stilted and reek of permenance that would otherwise force her from her role. Every option but recovery was dreadful, he was pleased there was no need for another grave along the riverside to decorate with smooth stones. "Walk with me? I...want to talk to you about something."
This recent life lost had left him feeling lethargic, drowning was its own kind of death - unique in that it left no scars on his body or wounds to remember and to compensate for that it had instead left his mind submerged and swilling with unease, he couldn't place the terrible feeling exactly but it reminded him of the cold chill of finding Beesong's body, the dark pit in his stomach when Cicadastar bared his teeth at him. It had all solidified in him a need to be transparent in a way he knew was cruel but necessary. Moons ago he might have been more direct, but this night he wanders outside the camp alongside the blue tabby with a calm certainty and a knowledge that his words carried more weight than he once thought. He could not speak poorly, could not throw himself into this as he had lunged into the river to kill the rogue that nearly struck down Snakeblink. Strength, Steepsnout had said when granting him his lives, his many lives were a shield for his clan and he did not regret any lost thus far because it was a life exchanged to ensure one of RiverClan did not fall. He knew his deputy still held her feelings of guilt when Deacon had cut his throat, but he was content in knowing it had spared her own being sliced - a wound that would not be kissed by stars and mended in a way unatural.
As they walked he took a deep breath, finally sorting through his complicated feelings he wanted to discuss, "...when I was made deputy under Cicadastar I never viewed it as a stepping stone to leadership." He'd not once thought of himself leading the clan, he had considered his position a dutiful guard, a loyal knight, the right paw of the river king and nothing more, "I expected to die long before him." Smokestar had been a reckless cat in battle, foolhardy and eager to fight and he had been so sure it would eventually end in his life spilling red over the ground in defense of his clan; a proper warrior's death. "That's not a mistake I want you to make, I need you to understand the gravity of it all. I'm already three lives down...StarClan only knows what may happen going forward, I have to know you're ready. I need to know you can take care of this clan, protect them..." Loving them was easy, it was hard not to grow attached and sympathetic to his clanmates, but love could only spare them so much grief; sometimes a firm paw needed to be placed, "If Hazecloud ever did something to risk the clan's safety...endanger them...would you have the strength to deal with it?" A cruel question, he didn't enjoy dawdling in the what-ifs or possibilities - he doubted Hazecloud would ever be the kind of cat to do anything of the sort, but then again...he had loved and trusted his own mate just as deeply as he knew Lichentail did hers.

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• @lichentail
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

An easy smile pulls onto haggard features, turning with squinting blue eyes to see Smokestar whole. Part of her stutters to reach forward and touch her nose to his cheek in friendly greeting, narrowly paused by a panicked uncertainty- would it be too presumptuous? Maybe spending so much time with her arms wrapped around Snakeblink had encouraged a bad behavior; the over assumption of closeness and her entitlement to it. It is the same with her kits, who she can pull into tight embraces and touch noses to and rub their fur into a mess with a gentle paw.

It is a hazy memory that his damp nose at her forehead had been a show of fear... not friendship.

"Of course," she answers, and though it is effortless to think it, there is a gravel in her voice that reflects its lack of simplicity to be said physically. There is little to complain about in the department of bodily aches and pains anymore, walking is as easy as ever and she is content to have the chance to leave the confines of camp and feel relieved within the expanses of reed-clustered territory.

For once they are not hunted.

An inhale of breath draws her away from admiring the way the air seems warmer... that the river babbles again in quiet song where ice had once kept it caged and silent. A tattered ear flicks in confused contemplation- wondering after this introduction when it feels so personal. Under Cicadastar. Like that is not loaded with far heavier meaning than her role as Smokestar's deputy had. It would be tantamount to serving under Hazecloud and she could not fathom the stress that came with that added association. Is already wracked with guilt to see night-sky fur too still instead.

It is... alarming? Flattering? To know they are alike in that small regard. That neither had considered affixing a starry mantle to their name. Lichenstar.... it sounds strange. It sounds like a kitten dream spun by a caring queen she'd never known and yet still struggled to be herself. "Worried," she asks, a feeble attempt at a joke though the dismal reality had come far too close to be scoffed at.

'I didn't die.' She'd told Brookstorm... and it was true this time.

In true fashion that finds him a paradox to his name, her leader charges through with sharpened honesty. It is brandished carefully, tactfully... and for her ears only. Teeth grit behind closed lips in silent, horrified revelation. Three? Streams become rushing rapids as they move in panicked consideration, prying through old memories like they are carved out canyons. Did she forget one? "I... am still confused," she starts, taking her time to find her words and position them along her tongue so they might less severely sear to be said.

"You are... up to your elbows in starlight.... already..." He had not been leader long... how he fell so swiftly, so frequently. It must be wrong. Had the other leaders perished so quickly? Did he miss Cicadastar so badly he could not be bothered to care for how short his reign was? "Smokestar I-"

There is a sternness to his face that is familiar and yet... among the embers of his gaze a simmering calm. A peace that comes from confronting your reality rather than running from it. She would've expected some heartfelt father-soft words then but instead his question is striking, a maw of teeth delicately wrapped around her throat. Her jaw sets stubbornly, frown creasing weathered features.

Hazecloud had endured the star's most trying tribulations just to see this clan safe and happy. Had ventured beyond known lands and back with only her life to offer. To consider her an enemy... It revisits a time not so long ago they'd prefer to forget. The war-torn image of claws wielded at each other, how easily Lichentail had buried them into thick, swirling locks of fur even in the best of times. It is frightening that they know their answer... and it is not so blindingly loving as their children would hope.

They had been enemies before. They could always be that again.

"If she.... were to force me to act....." she breathes, tone level but only through agonizing focus. "We have both. Bled. For this." Her tail shudders in anticipation of it, knowing the feel of her paper-thin skin, how venomous her tongue could be when she were angry enough. Their brow furrows, searching for an explanation in his face, in the words he chose. Why ask this question?

"It's.... my duty. And... a mercy........." Was it not kinder... to know it was someone who loved you that dug their teeth into your flesh, almost alike a kiss unrestrained? To know that it would be done quickly, as painlessly as possible because they love you? "I'd have. No choice."

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CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

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[SMOKESTAR]

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“I died at highstones…” It’s not something he had spoken of to the clan at all, left it as simply having been attacked to ease concerns; there had been much happening then and it was one less worry to settle upon them all. Smokestar shrugged, almost lightheartedly, as though his words were an awkward apology and not a sign of his dwindling mortality.

There is no joy in asking the question, it is not a hurt he would wish on any cat, not a pain he would wish on even his worst enemies. There is nothing more agonizing than losing a cat you loved other than being the very thing that sent them to the stars. Or not…
The dark tom is still plagued with the thought of his absence, wondering where he was in this afterlife that was suddenly so much more vast and mysterious than he’d ever considered. Believing in StarClan had once been simple, but knowing now they would reject a cat outright left him curious as to what else lay beyond the grave; where else could a cat go? He shakes his head lightly, ridding himself of the wonders of possibilities, the dead could not be dwelled on over the living. There was a clan of breathing cats who needed his focus more.

As Lichentail struggles to grasp his question and answer he feels...something. Relief. Unease. Sorrow.
He does not know what he should feel with the answer. Do her words bring him solace in knowing the right choices would be made no matter how hard? Does he find it abhorrent how easily she agrees? Is it wrong to take comfort in the absolutes, though he knows it is different when you face it directly than when you imagine it in your mind? There is no indication Lichentail will not bend beneath the weight when the moment comes she must make such a decision, but he finds he trusts her words all the same for as cruel as they were they were spoken with an understanding of how soul crushing such a decision was. He can only hold onto that and hope it never comes to such a thing. Smokestar would hope her reign is eased into more eloquently than his own when the time came.

"Cicadastar..." He says suddenly, stops and then rolls his words about once more to formulate them proper. He had never wanted to whisper the blackened words that scored his heart to any other, he can still hear the final utterance of madness descended from his lover’s maw, ‘I’ve always been right’, screamed defiantly even as teeth choked the final whispers of insanity out of him; a last bold decree that was fitting the way heartache was.

“...rogues didn’t kill Cicadastar.” He says finally, the long drawn out silence following her response filled with the noise of insects and rustling wind before he breaks it with finality; with a truth that still weighted as heavy as the body he had carried on his back through the marshes. “I killed Cicadastar.” It feels strange to say it in the open like this, to let his words carry on the wind and sing through the air; a confession, a curse, regret molding into acceptance. Lone orange eye staring forward, refusing to meet the blue gaze he knows is now raptly attentive to his every movement.

“He’d gone mad when I found him. Attacked me.” His words do not do it justice, it does not even begin to scrape the surface of what he had witnessed, but he finds he still isn’t strong enough to press further into the details. Explaining how the lanky tom had cowered behind spilling water, snarled like a beast and sputtered nonsensical words echoing the crimes Smokestar is sure he committed now more than ever.
“...I think he killed Beesong…I don’t know for sure but, he thought I was him and he tried to kill me. I did…what I had to do.” Part of him still wonders if it was the right thing, but then he remembers the salt ice eyes spiraling with paranoia and fear staring down at him with bloody teeth and he thinks that whether it was right or wrong it was JUST.

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Bone grits against itself behind lips that hide their tension- Highstones. Her teeth shift painfully as some slide against others under pressure, certain that her jaw might break if she were to withhold white-hot fury any longer. And yet he disregards it so.... flippantly. It's enough to make her want to cuff him upside the head; call him an idiot, tell him he should've listened. That his council had been right, that they could've saved him! Could've given him a chance at keeping nine lives longer than twenty miserable seconds.

There'd be no point. Her throat is adorned in proof that her presence is near worthless in the face of multiple targets. So she swallows past her want to scold him like an annoying brother. Her nose twitches in a display of her annoyance with him, eyes half-lidded as they stare back at a lackadaisical shrug. "I see."

There'd be plenty of time to make sure WindClan paid for every drop of blood.

Ears twitch in tandem efforts to dispel her rising emotions... He's lucky that she is willing to let this go, if not for his sake than for the sake of her own vocal cords. She'd lay into him the next time he chose to do something stupid against her advice then... it was only fair.

But the conversation does not maintain a tone that permits her to be just annoyed. A somber shift is punctuated in the syllables of a name rarely ever mentioned now save for moments of grief. For moments of history.... because that was what he was now. A part of history... and dead the same way history was.

Cicadastar.

And to hear his name brings up a tumult of emotion. Not all of it is positive, she can remember harsh words spat at her with spittle and fury. Recalls how much more distant he felt near the end than he had been in the distant past... A resolute statue of their values, crumbled and warped as time took its toll. As death crept ever closer for him. But he had been a pillar of strength once too... their brightly shining, First star. "You don't have to-" she rushes to stop him, to let him live in peace with only the memories. He didn't have to relive this, didn't have to remember the guilt of having failed. Nothing could've been done, he'd been outnumbered, they'd been outplayed-

"I killed Cicadastar."

Her mouth hangs open, slack jawed where whirlpools of confusion swim in lake blue eyes. N...no. He.... he didn't mean that literally. He meant that his shortcomings had seen to his death, that he felt the same way she did about his second life, that-

His story does not stop... he surges forward with too much detail for it to be fiction. The gray and white cat wishes it were. Their pupils shift in wild thought, flicking between his eye and the scars where once another had been. He'd.... attacked him? His mate... those long, rib-sharp teeth bared at his neck like he were a stranger- No. Not a stranger...

"Beesong..." There is a hollowness to hear their name in this context, to consider this potential truth. To imagine her medicine cat aside mottled fur they trusted, had buried their paws in trying to keep crimson inside where it threatened to escape and know they spent their last moments afraid. It poisons the legacy... makes it harder and harder to swallow and before they realize it, they are gasping for breath.

"He.... But..." And each wheeze in draws her vision to the shadows somewhere behind him, as if the dead might become enraged and animated just to silence them both. To make sure no one else could know. If Smokestar... had killed Cicadastar.... and still yet StarClan had given him his lives.

They knew.... they knew didn't they? It made their stomach churn, they were certain they were going to be sick. Had... had this ever happened before? Was he no different than Sootstar? And how then, did StarClan invite him into star-kissed death amongst them knowing what he'd done? "I... I'm sorry," they stammer, swallowing a nervous gasp to try and right themself, to find their composure again. The question couldn't be asked- wouldn't be. She'd... she'd told Cicadapaw once he was not a reflection of his father. That he was a diverging stream. "I'm fine..." Their brow furrows, finding will enough to meet his tired stare and see the weight there for what it was. "You... did what you had to."

And I'm so sorry you had to, goes left unsaid.

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CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

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[SMOKESTAR]

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You did what you had to do. He'd wanted to hear those words from someone else so desperately for so long that he is alarmingly quiet in the aftermath of them, a wave of calm rushing over him like a veil and briefly he's blinded by the torrent of a waterfall once more, toppled to the ground beneath long limbs and a sloped maw lined with points and he wants to just let it happen. He'd thought about it so much, so often, it was a wonder he'd not gone mad.
"Every breath for RiverClan." It was spoken when he was set as the righthand of the River King, it was a mantra he had dedicated his entire deputyship to and it was the last fleeting thought that raced through his mind as ivory sunk into porcelain- a throat was cracked open and shattered like ice; a river rushing upward to clutch them mercilessly and drown them. If he closes his eyes he finds he is forever trapped in that moment, that second before his jaws close - the regret tastes bitter, salt water.

"My hope is that when you must eventually succeed me it will be with a gentle bubble of the river and not the torrential downpour of its wrath. I will do my best to ensure that." Lichentail, whether she realized or not - or whether he himself realized or not, was now his closest confidant. He'd even go so far as to say dearest friend, he couldn't imagine having gone through all of this without the backbone of the council, but it had been them who held most firm beneath the weight and struggled against the tide, "I could not ask for a better deputy." There was something there he'd not realized he had lost beneath Cicadastar, it was not trust - he had trusted his mate and devoted himself wholeheartedly to him blindly, but there was a new thing that floated to the surface; security. For all the mottled phantom's efforts, for all his love, he had never been able to truly grant that to Smokestar then, at least not near the end; at the beginning there was warmth but it had ebbed and flowed and withdrawn overtime so suddenly he could not tell you when the chill set in.
"Thank you, Lichentail." She was a damned fool at times, stubborn and pigheaded as himself, but they were his fool and he theirs. Balance, as all things should be.

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

It's not a future she likes to consider... even if it is the most evident, unavoidable one. To have to consider their rise to power also means another staggering loss. And they had lost so much already. It twists uncomfortably in their chest to think about it, the moment that'll come where star-dusted night skies must be put to rest. When he'd draw the last breath of that ninth life and leave the rest to her. They were hardly different in age.. could've been siblings, if fate had been funnier. But there is a knowledge there that means she will bury him first.... if he gets his wish.

Her gaze wavers, falters to maintain his leveled stare. For all the security and consistency she stands to offer, she is nothing if not a coward at the worst of times. Selfishly, she hopes she never has to hold his head between her paws and beg him not to go. But it had already happened three times, two times he'd been left to swallow them alone. She'd suffer it six more times and unlike him, would not find the well-deserved rest the afterlife had waiting. She'd endure another countless moons of grief with nine more grisly deaths to experience first-paw instead.

"I could not ask for a better deputy."

Her eyes sting with tears so quickly it's alarming and for fear of embarrassing herself, the molly leans forward to bury her face into the fur at his chest, all earlier worries of being too forward forgotten. "Just... don't try to leave... too soon." It's her only request... really... and one he should be more than happy to oblige. If not for her, then his children that needed him still. If not for her, than RiverClan, who yearned for peace and constancy.

"Thank you, Lichentail."

They want to ask 'for what?' But the calm, quiet of his heartbeat says it's sincere... and they wouldn't dare disturb that peace.

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CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

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