private MY BROTHER, I WAS A FOOL — fernpaw

[iciclefang]

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XXXXXDespite Iciclefang’s new close friendship, she feels alone. She sleeps alone, or near Stormywing, but her littermate remains distant from her. What he cannot possibly know is that in her nightmares, she sees a ginger flank scored by a hawk’s talons, scarlet soaking snow until it crumbles and melts beneath the heat of blood. She had dreamt a thousand scenarios, but until she’d seen it with her own eyes—the danger they all were in, all the time—she’d not considered the height of her folly.

XXXXXLittle Wolf, as Fernpaw had thought, had died a warrior’s death.

XXXXXShe seeks him out, singling him from the cluster of Clan cats who mill about after a day of traveling. “Can I speak to you?” She regards him with an expression that struggles for neutrality and then falters. She all but pleads, after a few heartbeats, “Alone.”

XXXXXShe draws him away from the other cats, her heart climbing her throat. She’s never been so nervous to talk to Fernpaw before—and it’s because she is staring her own hubris, her own mistakes, in their hideous fanged faces.

XXXXX“Fernpaw?” She turns to him, but her gaze rests on her paws, wedged in snow. “I’m…”

XXXXXHer voice lowers.

XXXXX“I’m sorry.”

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[FERNGILL]

Fernpaw felt alone, too. It made no sense to him- RiverClan was here. He had friends in Figfeather and Bobbie- even in Stormywing. And yet, losing Little Wolf- even if he'd never really known her- had the same shock-factor as being pelted with a spindrift of frigid water. And with the sharpness of an icicle, it had pierced a hole in his heart and left a debilitating emptiness that he hadn't felt before. Or maybe hadn't been aware of.

This peculiar grief had been made worse by his lack of sleep. When a verdant eye turned to his sister's greeting, it was dimmed with exhaustion. As ever, though, he greeted her with the warmth that he could rely to find within him. Warmth he hadn't offered her in a few quarter-moons, now. There wasn't a will in him to refuse her, even as he remembered he was supposed to be upset with her.

But he wasn't a good liar, wasn't a good actor, and did not like to do either of those things, so he followed her. There was a strange look about her- something like nervousness on her face, a quavering quality he didn't think he'd ever seen on her. It was enough to concern him, and that concern showed in the light frown written across his fiery face.

I'm sorry. Her voice was quiet, and Fernpaw's lips parted a little as if he was going to say something. It took him a few seconds to actually do it. "I'm- sorry too..." And he didn't really know what he meant. "About Little Wolf. And- and for shouting at you." It hadn't felt good, boiling over like that. He preferred when his emotions were a tempered, behaved fire, instead of magma-turned-lava spewing out of him. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

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XXXXXThe relief that washes over Iciclefang is immense. It’s like standing beneath the falls in their territory, muscles beaten in submission by pounding water, only it’s cleansing. Worry like clumps of mud melt away from her pelt and are washed down stream. “You don’t have to apologize.” Her tone has it’s snap back. “I’m the one who couldn’t see that you deserved to be here.” She studies her brother with eyes that storm with emotion, pale and earnest.

XXXXXShe had swam alongside Fernpaw to fix the Twoleg Bridge and save the journey; she had braved the caves with him, Smogmaw in the lead, and when the SkyClanners had helped them up the sheer cliff face, he had placed his paws are confidently as any warrior. Iciclefang dips her head—a gesture of respect she has never given her littermate before, never given any cat perceived to be her inferior. “You are as good a warrior as anyone here. Maybe you have been for awhile, but this journey has proven it.” She reaches out with the tip of her tail, flicking ivory over a ginger flank. “RiverClan will be lucky to have a warrior like you when we return.”

XXXXXDespite the misgivings she still has about her brother, she tells him everything she does with honesty, with a clear conscience. Fernpaw will return with more than a warrior’s heart—she’s certain Cicadastar will see how worthy he is of his name now.

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[FERNGILL]

Nervousness didn't hang sheerly over her tone, now- no, there was the voice he knew with its same cutting quality. But the ice in her voice was refreshing with a positive assertion, nothing like the damning shards of complete hopelessness in him that she'd sent flying from her mouth those weeks ago. You deserved to be here. Sadness from what they'd witnessed still clung to his demeanour, but he smiled at her as bright and wide as ever then. Honest as ever. Even if he had tried to read a lie on her face, he knew he'd never find one there.

He shook his head at her refusing his apology, but there was no edge of irritation. They were different, very different, and they always had been. And he understood now, having felt her press ferociously against his side when faced with the worst-case-scenario, he realised the whole time she'd just been worried. And maybe it was worry for a Fernpaw that had died to that fox in a fit of idiocy, but it was worry for him nonetheless, and she wouldn't worry if she didn't care.

Her gesture of respect shocked him for a moment. A dip of the head, promptly returned. Something shared between them- a respect, a care, a love for one another that was there innately by being siblings but had been exacerbated by all of this.

"You mean it? You don't think I'm just..." He struggled for the memory, like it was ebbing with the last of his weeks-old anger. "... friendly, foolish Fernpaw anymore?" What he gave her was a joke, but a bit of a test, too. Friendliness, ease, had returned to his sole eye- she'd have to face his foolishness, marred across the other, to see the warmth there. Having tempered that part of himself into something more sensible, he was glad Iciclefang finally seemed to notice it.

RiverClan will be lucky to have a warrior like you when we return. Never had his sister been openly unpleasant, but he beamed at her words anyway- perhaps the nicest thing she'd ever said to him. "I just... I hope Cicadastar can see it, too." ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

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XXXXXIciclefang’s purr is dry and raspy, rumbling in her chest and ceasing after a few heartbeats. She can tell he’s surprised by her positive candor, and in truth, she still feels out of sorts, like her paws are placed on unsteady ground. Kindness eludes her, and complimenting others with anything other than a brisk, Well done. still does not come naturally. But his obvious pleasure at her words warms her somewhat. “I don’t think you’re just friendly, foolish Fernpaw,” she mews, giving him a tap between the ears with a white-dipped paw. “You’ll never not be yourself, but you’re more than I gave you credit for…”

XXXXXAfter a heartbeat, she withdraws her paw, giving her brother a smile that drips sarcasm. “Just don’t embarrass me or make me eat my words, you hear me?” She gives her fur a brisk shake. “Because if you do, I’ll pretend I never said them.”

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[FERNGILL]

It was odd how, after feeling such a burst of anger that Fernpaw had been worried it would slough his skin right off, it could be so easily forgotten. Or- forgiven, really. Because he'd never forget what Iciclefang had said to him, but what she was saying to him now was much more important. A laugh shuddered through his grin at the rap of her paw, and he shook his head as if exasperated. How easily it had all settled, like the breeze ceasing to disturb the water. Like clouds parting to uncover sapphire-blue.

With every word she spoke the conversation strayed from the mawkish, unsweetening to something as crisp and clear as a gale. That was the sister he knew- not nervous, and favouring dry humour that didn't feel like frostbite. "I'm done embarrassing people," he laughed, but it was an assurance as well. He wasn't going to make her regret her newfound belief in him, because he wasn't going to stray into idiotic heroics ever again. Long ago he'd learned that lesson; squandering hard-earned belief like that would be foolish.

He wasn't going to get hurt.

Cheer suited him a lot better than anger- when the fire within him was nurturing, rather than raging. "Good luck pretending. I'm not gonna let you live it down." And for once- for just-this-once, Fernpaw felt normal again. Ephemeral though it was, he'd hold onto it for as long as he could. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​