NEVER REALLY HAD MUCH FAITH ☼ SOOTSPOT


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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.


 
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"Give me a moment, my little ones." A head bunting was offered to each of his children before the chimera pushed himself to his feet and moved towards the entrance of the Nursery. Emerging, his eyes squinted as they adjusted to the camp's light, before settling upon the equally sunny figure to his right. There had been a kinship between the two for a brief span of time, a small moment where he imagined a world where the other could be a friend. Then, it had been ruined with one single comment, a defiance of Sootspot's wishes. It was that comment which had brought him to the Lead Warrior's side, that comment which the other questioned him upon: 'would you have killed him?'

He blinked toward Dimmingsun, his gaze void of any moral implications. Instead, he looked for the answer that the Lead Warrior wanted to hear, before deciding better of it. It was not a game he would win against Dimmingsun, figuring out where the moral line was drawn with the other before stepping over it. The other was too good, too... loyal. A lesson would be better than subservience. "In a heartbeat." There was permafrost in his voice, as if it was something he'd considered a thousand times before. Claws unsheathed as if picturing it again, writhing into the soil below. "Love has bought his silence for a time, teeth in his neck would buy it forever."

Forever seemed hyperbolic. When he looked towards the sky, he was reminded of the ancestors hiding behind the glory of day, waiting until no one else could see them before they made their appearance. He wondered if they even acknowledged DuskClan, the remnants of his mother's loyalists whom he had betrayed at the last moment, or if their words were solely reserved for the other leaders. Granitepelt was dead, Snakehiss was useless, Sunstar was a false leader by all laws... so why? Why hadn't StarClan come to him? An analytical gaze shot toward the Lead Warrior. "Might I remind you that he has seen WindClan weak, suffering from sickness and without a stable council to back its leader? Should he join us, he will incite a protest. Should he leave, he will tell DuskClan everything. When he has not begged for it, his life is a meaningful compromise."

He believed it when he said that Thriftfeather could watch his children any time. Somewhere, deep within the annals of his heart, he knew Sootstar had to be doing the same, rolling in her starry grave that she had not given more in life. Sootspot's ears relaxed to be half-way down. "The fact he did not grant WindClan this small mercy and lie down concerns me. The code dictates one must be willing to sacrifice their life for their clan, yet even if it was to save us from a potential conflict, he could not do that for us."

 

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Sootspot extracts himself from the too-hot side of his offspring — Dimmingsun does not know how anyone is able to endure the eternal squirming after a long day. They remain calm, presumably asleep, so Dimmingsun does not mind badgering their father some more. It is rare the two of them converse... mostly on purpose, for the pithy, snake-tongued prince seldom fails to raise his hackles. Tonight his input feels valuable.

Frustration still bites at his nerves. "No, you don't need to remind me." Dimmingsun barely refuses the urge to roll his eyes; Sootspot always takes the opportunity for ensuring his point is heard. "I would rather take a bite to the throat myself than become Clanmates with him again." There is that word — again —, cropping up more and more often lately. DuskClan should have been left in the dust... an ugly stain in WindClan's history. Evidently, the past does not wish to be buried.

"I fought him, you know," Dimmingsun says, brazen. "When Lilypaw died, I just wanted to..." Kill someone, he wants to add. It is the truth, but he is already baring himself open enough for someone as unlikely as Sootspot. If he is as smart as he thinks, then he will understand the depths of Dimmingsun's saying here: the knell at Lilypaw's funeral had not stopped when she had been buried underneath the earth, and the injustice of it all urged him into action. "Revenge. I wanted revenge. And I found Thriftfeather."

There it is. For the first time, Dimmingsun had admitted it; did not keep it a secret if anyone had asked about his new scratches, but did not announce it to the world. Not even Sunstar... if Sootspot wishes to spread the gossip, there are few cats who would be opposed to Dimmingsun's rugose attempts at carrying out his own will. "He fled. Now I'm thinking I should have pursued harder."

Would it have been the right choice? It certianly would have uprooted the projectory of Bluefrost and her kittens' lives. Unbeknownst to Dimmingsun, he had been threatening the life of a soon-to-be father.

"Do you feel sorry for your sister?" The change in topic is intentionally abrupt. He levels Sootspot with a curious gaze; despite the general consensus on Sootspot landing in the negative, Dimmingsun never stops wondering about him. Annoying to the very core... but interesting nevertheless.
 

'I'm sure that can be arranged,' he thought to himself as the Lead Warrior admitted to preferring death over fealty, his whiskers twitching in amusement. His mother had collected corpses like flowers, he wondered if, somewhere, there was a world where Sunstar was capable of the same. Sootspot knew little of his life before WindClan, but if a lawful cat was capable of enacting such violence, Stars knew what a filthy rogue could do. Briefly, he considered that Sunstar's weakness may have been a guise, a means to be trusted in a world that did not want him - but what proud cat would let themselves go through so much humiliation?

'A rogue, I suppose. I cannot make my mind up.'

The other's words severed the silence. He blinked at Dimmingsun's confession, unperturbed yet intrigued, feeling as if he had stumbled upon the chamber of a heart he'd never thought visible. Revenge, the Lead Warrior said. Unsactioned revenge. All too proud shoulders relaxed somewhat as he realised he was talking to someone no better than the others, someone who only pretended to be too good and too loyal. "An eye for an eye," he justified it to Dimmingsun, nodding in muted approval. If Thriftfeather hadn't survived the encounter, then the clan would have never learned the true depths of Bluefrost's depravity. If he hadn't survived, then maybe she'd have been too upset to severe her reputation for Sootspot.

The cycle of revenge did not just stop with an eye for an eye, it continued until the whole body had been carved into little pieces and each side forgot why they were fighting to begin with. It was a brute's game, too beneath Sootspot for him to even consider it. "My advice would be to keep this from Sunstar. Both of us know he cannot stay, yet, should Sunstar find out you have more... personal reasons for not wanting him here and that another one of his council has kept a secret from him, then I fear his heart will waver on what is right for our home," he mewed quietly, his tail swaying behind him. "Sootstar believed herself to be betrayed by everyone and that was a lie. What happens to a cat when there is truth in their delusions? How mad can they truly be?" For a brief moment in time, it was not horror in his eyes at the thought, but fascination, as if he could be the first to find an answer to an unanswerable question. Then, his maw parted in alarm and any curiosity seemed to be nothing more than a trick of the light. "For WindClan's sake, your story is safe with me."

Do you feel sorry for your sister? His gaze refocused upon Dimmingsun, his mouth closing quickly as he assessed the other. Had the other sensed vulnerability? Wanted to capitalise upon it? He straightened his posture, ears flicking madly as he realised just how much he had to strain his neck to meet his eyes. "Should I? We had the same mother and the same chances in life. Arguably she has had more..." A father figure, a rank, attention, friends. She'd been well and truly spoilt. "Yet I have never broken the code, she has.... continuously. What point is there of laws if there is no punishment for breaking them? The way I see it, all Bluefrost is experiencing is the consequences of her actions." There is a lighthearted accusation to his eyes, something that promised no danger if Dimmingsun didn't answer in the way Sootspot wanted him to. "Why? Do you feel sorry for her?"



 
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