private poor george // thundergleam

[badgerstripe]

A nest is empty in the warriors' den tonight as a lone warrior excuses herself to the camp's guard. Her heart is heavy with sin, her mind muddied with guilt. Sleep does not come easy to Badgerstripe; it is easy to see why the molly is a dead cat walking, a husk of a bright former self that has not been seen in many moons. She has suffered greatly, and.. it does not let up.

Somewhere outside the camp walls, far enough that those sleeping might not hear, the tortoiseshell crouches down and brings a paw to her mouth. Her body shakes and heaves with heavy sobs that her paw can just barely stifle - it is only a matter of time before her sorrow spills over any attempts to remain discreet. Far too much time has passed since Badgerstripe had been a noble apprentice, ruined by the selfishness of her own actions and the death she had caused.. now her old friends, partners in her crime, were moving forward with their lives, making amends and building bonds while she was stuck in time, still hardly able to see herself as anything but a murderer, an outcast, a prime example of what a ThunderClan warrior should not be. As each cry racks her frail, unkept body, she wonders - how much despair must she endure until her forgiveness is earned?

It seems Badgerstripe is never truly, physically alone - not even in her most vulnerable moments. She is already wiping her tears and sniffling by the time another cat's tail brushes against her flank in a gentle, comforting stroke. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the blur of white perched next to her. An instinctive fury breeches through the sadness of her expression, furrowing her brows and tightening the frown on her face, but only for a moment before that sliver of energy is all but spent. "Not you," is all that she can muster with a strained voice through a tightened, sob-ridden throat.

Her, why was it always her? ThunderClan's supposed saviour as she thinks herself, not verbally spoken but expressed through her actions and behaviors. It has sickened Badgerstripe terribly to see the rogue blend to easily into their ranks, to be the perfect cat that Badgerstripe always dreamed of being.. and fell short. "I've already told you, I - I don't need your h - help.." Her denial has not even half the energy of her previous scuffles with the white-furred molly - as expected, she does not budge. Badgerstripe sniffs again, wipes her eyes once more, and then turns her head to see Thundergleam's empathy-creased face. "I don't - don't want help.." the warrior insists again. She could get better on her own.. only in a matter of time, right? Maybe - maybe she didn't need to get better at all. ThunderClan was the problem, not her.. right?

Exhausted by these tried and failed thoughts. Badgerstripe cannot fool herself anymore. Even as she fervently denies Thundergleam's advances to aid her, tears well up in her green eyes once more. Stars, damn it all, she thinks, defeatedly, while her teeth pinch the inside of her cheeks to fight back another sob. She eyes the Saviour with defiance and hatred.. but it is clear now that her act of strength is a ruse, only a mere kind word away from crumbling completely.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  speech is #c9b177
  

• 

• BADGERSTRIPE ✩ warrior of thunderclan
  ⭃ she/her ━ afab ━ 16 moons
  ⭃ a blue tortoiseshell with a black dorsal stripe and a white ear.
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[THUNDERGLEAM]

Sleepless nights frequented Thundergleam's habits- she was unrelenting in her practice of stargazing, paying the stars attention just as they gazed down at their subjects so tierlessly. It was simply an act of indebted repayment, a show of eternal gratitude. Often was she interrupted, though ... many a warrior slinked into the night, looking for respite - they slunk into the shadows to be embraced in solitude. Thundergleam was more often than not content to leave them, unless they approached her ... or, were crying.

Badgerstripe was doubled over, choking on sobbing breaths. The pale molly drifted over seamlessly, like running water- a tufted tail brushed feather-light against her flank, and fury lit in Badgerstripe's gaze as she did it. Stubbornly, Thundergleam refused to sink away- no, her destiny was to help. She knew that now; Father had tole her himself, her wise guide with gilded eyes. And the thought occured to her- was Badgerstripe's pain, struggling for breath against the pincerlike grip of her sorrow, unfixable? Must her claws now carve a throat open, to allow the warrior to find new life and happiness in the Stars?

No, no... there was time. There was still a chance, and she would give Badgerstripe that chance. Her judgement was what the Stars were relying on, after all. "Badgerstripe ..." Thundergleam's voice was soft, songlike. She dared not ferry the other she-cat closer, but equally did not let her gaze wander- no, Badgerstripe needed strength above all else, someone to lean on the side of. Someone to guide her through this darkness, and into the light.

"It does not make you weak to accept help," she asserted. "You are a strong cat within, and you must not weep over the past. ThunderClan needs your strength to blaze like a protective fire." As ever, there was a steely kindness in her voice, the sort that did not falter from venomous words or narrowed eyes. "If you sink into your sorrow, your tears will drown you."

And if that happens, I must help you for the final time. ​

penned by pin ☾​

 

[badgerstripe]

The voice next to her is sickeningly sweet, as always, and Badgerstripe suspects this is all according to plan. Someone in pain is someone to save; someone to make her feel better. For whatever cause Thundergleam may be trying to fulfill with it, Badgerstripe is falling straight into her trap. What could she possibly want? To be a leader? To have everyone wrapped around her finger? To simply be liked, so that cats like her are left in the dust?

Oh.. but who is she kidding? It was always something with everyone. The questions about warrior life were always some sort of passive aggressive scrutiny; Sleekwhisper hated her and that's why she was so quiet; Lightflower and Palefire had all moved on because they wanted to be away from her. They were all reaches in the worst ways. Badgerstripe was scared, and it felt easier to suspect the worst in others to keep herself on her toes. But, stars, she was so tired of being paranoid.

The tortoiseshell's icy gaze doesn't soften, but it does seem to tire defeatedly. "Do you think all the other warriors ask for help?" she mutters half-heartedly. Not even the newest generation of warriors seems to need any aid in adjusting to their posts. Thundergleam continues, and loathed as she is to admit it, Badgerstripe feels a sort of longing for this kind of comfort. She isn't sure if she believes it, but.. it feels nice, to be seen the way Thundergleam explains her.

Drown. Never has a word explained her plight so easily as this. "I'm drowning," Badgerstripe echoes quietly - breathlessly, as if the very word had wished waves into existence to crash over her. As nice as it is, there is a downside to what the starry warrior is saying; acceptance. To accept that something's wrong with her, that she needs help, that she can be better.. all while she is still going through the motions of grief from moons long past. It's all too much.. too overwhelming..

The heavenly molly does not pull her in, but she does not push, either. She is a beacon, a rock, accessible when needed. In a slow, stumbling motion, as if falling into her, Badgerstripe, defeatedly, turns to face Thundergleam and presses her tear-soaked face into white fur. Is this it? Is this how she gives up? "Cats.. died, because of me," she admits. Perhaps Thundergleam does not know; maybe that is why she's being so persistent. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?" To be alone. To atone endlessly. To be hated.

She sniffles and remains still - she feels like she's groveling, but the comfort is achingly symbolic of lost friendships, and she cannot find the strength to move away. "I don't know what to do.." she says sullenly with a thick, gloomy voice. Badgerstripe feels as if she'd cried herself empty, like the last of her emotion had been expelled. "I'm barely a warrior anymore. How am I supposed to come back from this?" She remembers her one time encounter with a ShadowClanner, who caught her roaming through their territory aimlessly. She'd dreamed that day of exploring past the territories, leaving all she knew behind. Would running away be an option now?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  speech is #c9b177
  

• 

• BADGERSTRIPE ✩ warrior of thunderclan
  ⭃ she/her ━ afab ━ 16 moons
  ⭃ a blue tortoiseshell with a black dorsal stripe and a white ear.
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[THUNDERGLEAM]

I'm drowning. Thundergleam's blood froze, just for a moment- was this it? was she to bear her claws to a tearable throat, and spill that pain upon the earth so that Badgerstripe's soul might shrug it away as she walked to a star-whirled clearing. A soft sigh left her, and she whispered away that feeling in a breath. No, no- she was drowning. She ... she could still be spared from the worst fate possible. She could still...

Thundergleam's judgement mattered- the Stars depended on her to figure out which Thunderclanners could not be pulled out of these sorrowful pits, and which could live to see a brighter day tomorrow.

Badgerstripe's tear-soaked face fell against her silvery chest then- she felt her breaths grow shallow with the collapsed weight of a cat upon her, but kinder instincts soon took over. Her claws stopped prickling- her body moved instead. She held herself still and steadfast, and gently cradled the crying molly with one foreleg. Cats died because of me. Thundergleam blinked, neutral. In truth, she did not know how that felt. Her claws had killed before, yes... but it had never been anything indirect. It had never been anyone good who had met an ill fate of her fault.

"You cannot let yourself drown." Thundergleam repeated it, adamant. "You must keep trying to keep your head above the surface, and you cannot always do it alone. Everyone needs help, sometimes ... it is why we are a Clan, and not acquaintanced loners." Her comfort was gentle sunlight, refusing to waver and shift as shadows did.

Pink eyes glanced down to where Badgerstripe's head lay, where the tortoiseshell had stilled against her. "You will always be a warrior. In this life and the next, you are a Thunderclanner, even with your flaws and your mistakes." Thundergleam's tail-tip twitched, itching to help, to help, to help in any way but the last. "You must make a start- do one more good thing every day. Give one more compliment ... catch another Clanmate's favourite piece of prey. Every day, it will become easier, but you must have the strength to begin that journey."

A small pause, and silver, star-touched silence. They were watching. He was watching, too. "And I truly believe you have that strength."​

penned by pin ☾​