- Jun 9, 2022
- 602
- 408
- 63
The path to Twolegplace was a path he's tread time and time again. One that he'd walked even before he'd taken the façade of a SkyClanner. A small mercy it had always been, that Blazestar had bound their fate to a place so close to their old home. His paws would find the way, even if they trembled atop the old earth they walked on. Even if — between the panting breath and frenzied eyes — it takes him a moment to get his bearings. No, he could never find himself lost in this forest, no matter how much he wished he had never seen past the treeline all those moons ago... He could never be lost, he continues to think, even as his path winds around, loops in twists and turns before he stops at last. How purposeful is it, that he ends up here? Was the goading all his own, an instinct woven deep into his spirit; or was he being toyed with yet again, overseen by claws from the sky?
The grave lying ahead of him is not the one he wants. Slumbering beneath it is the corpse of Blaise and Blazestar both, by now, the body likely being gnawed away into nothing.
" But you aren't really dead, are you? " aloud, he asks. He knows He can hear him, even if His ears are elsewhere. He was something between dead and alive, perhaps. Something with the power to wander, with the power to watch, no longer tethered to that mortal form of His. Dawnglare has seen it happen once before. What kept such a fate from befalling another? It was Her grave that he'd visit next, nestled beside his old twoleg home. There, he would fall to his knees and beg for an answer to his question. Why have you led me here? The way She has been for this past moon, She is silent.
The fault is not only Hers, though. Perhaps he had misinterpreted Her, too distracted by Blaise's whims. It is blank, the look he regards Him with. " Why — " his voice catches. The sound of it is pitiful, waterlogged and ran-through. " Why do you k-keep looking at me as if it's my fault? " He feels those eyes, and yet he couldn't possibly know what it is they want. Past the feeling of contempt; past the judgement that weighed so heavily it rocked the whole of him as it sat. " I didn't do a thing to you, " Meant with venom. Instead, there is only a pitiful waver to his words.
" I'm going where you watch me, anymore. " He sniffs, fights back the dribbling of his nose. " I'm returning from whence we came, " he tells Him. And would he become Valentine, once again? Perhaps that would be blasphemy to the person he once was. A glassy sheen coats his eyes. He is able to ignore it until he blinks, his head bowed over the mound of dirt where his old friend laid. " You could have joined me, i hope you know. " Of course, he expects no answer. Silence is all he gets from both of them, but they can never just disappear. He feels the rise and fall of their backs just the same. His one eye, grand amongst the sky He has cultivated, beats down on him just the same. Dawnglare's words do not give him the satisfaction he had wanted.
He hadn't the chance to say it back then, and so now he would: " Goodbye, Blaise. " He looks past the trees; searches for the horizon. Something meek murmured by the sky — or was it the sun ( — or was it merely himself? ) tells him, you're making a mistake. They're a liar, that voice.
At long last, he would move on.
The grave lying ahead of him is not the one he wants. Slumbering beneath it is the corpse of Blaise and Blazestar both, by now, the body likely being gnawed away into nothing.
" But you aren't really dead, are you? " aloud, he asks. He knows He can hear him, even if His ears are elsewhere. He was something between dead and alive, perhaps. Something with the power to wander, with the power to watch, no longer tethered to that mortal form of His. Dawnglare has seen it happen once before. What kept such a fate from befalling another? It was Her grave that he'd visit next, nestled beside his old twoleg home. There, he would fall to his knees and beg for an answer to his question. Why have you led me here? The way She has been for this past moon, She is silent.
The fault is not only Hers, though. Perhaps he had misinterpreted Her, too distracted by Blaise's whims. It is blank, the look he regards Him with. " Why — " his voice catches. The sound of it is pitiful, waterlogged and ran-through. " Why do you k-keep looking at me as if it's my fault? " He feels those eyes, and yet he couldn't possibly know what it is they want. Past the feeling of contempt; past the judgement that weighed so heavily it rocked the whole of him as it sat. " I didn't do a thing to you, " Meant with venom. Instead, there is only a pitiful waver to his words.
" I'm going where you watch me, anymore. " He sniffs, fights back the dribbling of his nose. " I'm returning from whence we came, " he tells Him. And would he become Valentine, once again? Perhaps that would be blasphemy to the person he once was. A glassy sheen coats his eyes. He is able to ignore it until he blinks, his head bowed over the mound of dirt where his old friend laid. " You could have joined me, i hope you know. " Of course, he expects no answer. Silence is all he gets from both of them, but they can never just disappear. He feels the rise and fall of their backs just the same. His one eye, grand amongst the sky He has cultivated, beats down on him just the same. Dawnglare's words do not give him the satisfaction he had wanted.
He hadn't the chance to say it back then, and so now he would: " Goodbye, Blaise. " He looks past the trees; searches for the horizon. Something meek murmured by the sky — or was it the sun ( — or was it merely himself? ) tells him, you're making a mistake. They're a liar, that voice.
At long last, he would move on.
