- Nov 22, 2023
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When you're confined to one singular point without permission to leave it for longer than necessary, the only thing you can realistically do is think. Dimmingsun much prefers to avoid the darkest corners of his mind, or at the very least, not show others that he dwells in those spots. His true colors show then; the traits that are less than stellar, the ones that tie him so easily to his Colony days. A rogue, really, who is dangerously possessive of what he owns and is greedy for what he does not.
He doesn't exactly know his goal when he comes to a decision. A way to validate himself, or simply hear the words of someone just as against Thriftfeather as he is, especially after seeing Vulturepaw shy away after an enraged declaration.
"Sootspot."
Sootspot — easy to acquire now, as the nursery's guard —, with his tenebrous mind and his glib tongue. 'Lionize me', his eyes say.
And yet... Dimmingsun is glad for his eye to bore into Sootspot's pair. The forsaken prince of the moors, with a family too complicated for anyone outside it to comprehend in its full. He must resent sharing the space with his sister and her cursed-blooded offspring.
"If he had offered you his throat..." There is little reason to utter Thriftfeather's name. He oozes like venom; every word shared between Clanmates, every gaze shared, every thought sparked... it all leads back to him the past few days. "Would you have taken it? His life?"
It is a question he asks himself, too — would Dimmingsun? Depriving others of their lives has never been a subject he's ever side-stepped... but he feels compelled to wonder if it would have been the right thing, or if WindClan is rightful in keeping their enemy alive? If Sunstar had barked the order, Dimmingsun would not have hesitated a moment longer to lunge. Perhaps that is amongst the most unsettling discoveries as of late, even past Bluefrost's betrayal... such a fact does not make Dimmingsun nearly as free as he might have believed up to this point.