REFLECTION 𓆩♡𓆪 FIREFLYPAW

[DAWNGLARE]

He is restless.

Who was it? Mother or the stars that did this? In his mind, he sees pine forests. Sprawling– spacious, and yet, so, so alone. SkyClan which has thrived all these moons was nowhere to be found. Not in scent. Not in sound. Even the cats that gathered pre - awakening were nowhere to be seen. He could not find Blazestar anywhere. His voice had called for Fireflypaw, and yet, for once, they had not come running. His cords strained, and he fell back on an old friend ( Honeybee, he had been called ). And yet, the forest remained quiet. The stars blinked strangely too, then. He felt like there was something they were not telling him. But why would they ever do that?

When he wakes, dusk is streaming through the branches of his den. Their den, but his mate is nowhere to be seen, and the only one he does see is Fireflypaw. Claws nearly at his face, Dawnglare gazes upon him with tired eyes. Briefly, he is glad that they cannot see just how wretched he looks.

Dawnglare shifts in his nest. Night has not yet fallen. There are things to do before they would all shut their eyes for the night. And evidently, Mallowlark has seized that light for himself. Soon, soot - draped paws would join him, side by side; and smiles would hug tight as they shared this warmth for the night. What was once his den was now theirs. Dawnglare lives easier than he has in seasons.

And yet, his rest is not so noiseless.

Fireflypaw lies away from them. Not so far that he was unseeable, but far enough that they could put a body between them, or perhaps more. When Dawnglare is shaken awake by things invisible, it is not so difficult to pretend that he isn't there at all. Would it not be the same for Fireflypaw, now always, and forever, so long as he did not see? So long as he did not listen? It was foolish to worry of things that would never happen, really.

But Dawnglare had thought that once of his father. And oh, that tom did not listen. His wounds were all his own. His mistakes only that, and more. And it's not as if Dawnglare was nagged by such a thing. Not as if he could not live; could not breathe, knowing that he would be nothing in that mind of his until he dies. And even that was a fool's way of thinking– As if Blazestar would not live generations more, and as if he may never turn around within those many seasons. Dawnglare wore it fine; sheathed his claws and tucked them close. Nevermind the clicking– the tapping– Dawnglare bore it well, and he would continue to do so.

He does not know why he crawls closer to his apprentice, really. " Fireflypaw, " his voice says, though he has no reason to speak, and so should not do so. He realizes that he is, and his mouth is dry like he had not tasted the sweet rain in moons. " Fireflypaw, " Again he says, and it's frantic, the way his voice jumps. He needs them to hear him, is all. He needs them to hear.

His soul hums, irregular; as does she beneath, but he pays it no mind. " You do not hate me, do you? " Such a thing would only be a detriment to themself, and so such a thing would be impossible. Fireflypaw would not see the smile as Dawnglare asks, nor the way ivory paws dip closer, the more his voice trembles. " You do not hate me for what I've done? For loving? How cruel would that be? " This tone of voice dips sickly - sweet, almost a purr, rolling low in his throat as he hovers further, still. " You've had me for how long, now? For forever, " His smile hurts his cheeks, and the final word pitches high. He's been there from the beginning. " Nothing has changed. "

He laughs, and he's not sure why. But fangs would not glint in light so dim, and Fireflypaw would not see the way his eyes slit with the stretch of his smile. It wouldn't do, though. He needed Fireflypaw to see. A step forward, and laughter is still bubbling. " Nothing has changed! " He reminds both them and himself. But his apprentice was not seeing him– his eyes remain dull as the night She died and he needed them to be full of him. Dawnglare is looming, smile dropping from how much his face hurt, and he could smell the mint and pine rolling off Fireflypaw. " Nothing has changed, Fireflypaw. " He can tell that they don't see him, and Dawnglare has to stop himself from spitting. His own eyes swallow up the pale blue pools that remain from the slaughter and he can feel the subtle bursts of breath from a black - night nose. Dawnglare himself has not noticed when his own breathing's grown rough and heavy, and as white - ichor meets the new moon that is that face, he can only think of how badly he wants them to see him. He refuses to be nothing. He would be something. " ...N-othing. " A last breath, and he is not sure what he is.

The child was not the height of his father, but that does not stop the brief flash of desperation; teeth held between tongue. A second chance. And he knows he should not treat it as such, but the silence is deafening...

[ @Fireflypaw ]​

 

[Fireflyglow]

His dreams are plagued with the memory of mother's milk and mewling kittens, of the smell of his father and the soft purring of his younger siblings. He's brought back to that time, when things were much more simpler- less painful. They were all together then, Morningkit snuggled up beside the rest of them. It's warm, the darkened pelt of his mother like the moon's shadow; graces him with her very breaths and soft whispers against sensitive little ears.

This one will be Fireflykit. After Haku. Blazestar would announce to the world, deeming him a beacon of light that passed on a soul long gone. A legacy written in his flesh and blood. Fireflypaw shifts in place as he feels his sanctuary shift, a soft grunt of complaint leaving him as he's pried from his comfortable rest. When he opens his eyes, it's dark again- and he's reminded once again that he cannot see. Disappointment is evident in his expression as he tries to roll over and go back to sleep.

"Fireflypaw," That voice beckons, pries outwards with claws of pearls; his voice is shaking. Just a moment longer, He thinks to himself, tufted paws wiping over his face to clear any debris from the corners of his eyes. "Fireflypaw," It's said again in a much more desperate voice, the owner of it beckoning him from his sleep with a wide mirth of a smile that the seal point cannot see. But he can imagine it- he knew his mentor's mannerisms well, it didn't take a genius to know that Dawnglare was stressing over something.

He debates on turning over to face his mentor, to give him a moment of his time- but Mallowlark was sure to return soon. When the snowy-charcoal tom would return, his mentor would no longer be just his anymore. He would have to share his time, give it all up for a tom who wasn't even SkyClan. Would the spy take his mentor, perhaps? Snatch him away in the dark of the night, take him on journeys in secret as they had done moons ago? Fireflypaw scrunches his nose up.

"You do not hate me, do you?" Silence. Fireflypaw cannot bring himself to respond, cannot fathom giving Dawnglare a reason to doubt him further. Hate was such a strong emotion, one he's never felt before- he's never hated anyone in his life. Especially not the high priest, who grovels at his paws as if begging for sanctuary from himself. Fireflypaw rolls over then, ghostly eyes wide in the darkening den- head bobbing momentarily from sleep-kiss. "I could never." He finally pries the words from his own lips, casts them down to Dawnglare but yet his gaze peers away soon after. He's staring. His paws dip ever so closer to his own soot-colored ones. "You do not hate me for what I've done? For loving? How cruel would that be?" Eyebrows scrunch together in distaste. Not for the tom himself, but for the subject- he could do with avoiding the reality of his issues for much longer. "I don't hate you," Fireflypaw repeats himself in an echo of emotion. He doesn't know what else he can say. "You've had me for how long, now? For forever, Nothing has changed." Fireflypaw's tongue is dry. "I.. It's your life, Dawnglare. Love who you want." He wishes Mallowlark wasn't sleeping in the medicine den with Dawnglare; they'd have more space, then. A lie. At least then I would be able to have Dawnglare to myself again. Perhaps then we would properly be able to train together. I could be more useful to you that way. He thinks bitterly, sitting up just enough to prop his chin on his paws.

"Nothing has changed, Fireflypaw." Fireflypaw bitterly releases a laugh from his lips, choked and restrained. "It feels like things are changing, Dawn." His head swivels, the sound of the high priest's voice leading his face to face towards the tom. His eyes are wide, emotion swimming in pale hues as the reflection of Dawnglare surfaces upon nearly-white irises. Look at me! Look at me! Like a baby bird desperate to fly, desperate to prove themselves. Yet he crashes, fall from his nest and into the ground before his wings can spread. He's stuck here. Stuck, stuck, stuck- one, two, three, four. His tail taps against the ground, rhythmic. Dawnglare's voice fades, confidence fades. If he spoke the truth, what would that gain him but more punishment, more disdain? "I just want you to be safe. I care about you, Dawnglare. If being in love with Mallowlark is what you want, then do so- and don't worry about prying eyes. They just.. Don't understand. Y'know?"​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 11 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

I could never. I don't hate you.

Dawnglare cranes his neck conspiratorially, as if pondering whether this thing was true. They are apt liars, he's learned. The sun itself capable of becoming cold, beneath that loving exterior. Dawnglare looks anywhere but him, for a moment, the wideness of his pupils not matching his eyes. Deer in headlights, scrounging feathering thing, he looks to his apprentice as if they are a thing unfamiliar, and only the click of his own teeth may tell him what they truly are. Dawnglare does not retreat entirely, looking closer for an answer he could not quite find.

It's your life, Dawnglare. Love who you want.

He barks a single laugh, if only because the disparity was amusing. Clearly their father did not think the same. And when no bloodshed was brought, Dawnglare cannot possibly comprehend why. All he can do is laugh, face creased in confusion, grimace held by a clenched jaw. The bubble of breath ignores the way he'd like to collapse, and his eyes prick with wetness for reasons unknown.

His own amusement is long gone by the time Fireflypaw's face crinkles in its own. Sudden mania. " Listen to me! " For once, could he listen? He bears his teeth in the dimness of dusk. Flaked ichor rises upon his back. For a fleeting second, he longs to rip the tongue from someone who misses it so blatantly, but he thinks of empty forests and clean hills. He bites his own tongue, instead.

Dawnglare breathes in. His fur gradually flattens. Fireflypaw is incomprehensible, as always. One thing one moment, and then another the next. Heavy breaths nearly sound like he's done more but scream, but he hasn't, and he would not.

" Do you understand? " he says quietly then, eyes dry and unblinking. He is hardly convinced, and he feels Mother mourn beneath him. Another; another waste of time. (Say it wasn't so. Say, say anything.)​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Listen to me! It's shouted on shaking lips, and Fireflypaw visibly flinches at the tone used with him- he was listening. All he ever did was listen to Dawnglare. Every word, every hymn was like a sanctuary for him. Fireflypaw stands suddenly, finally fully awake and conscious enough to plead his own case to a man who doesn't seem to want to listen himself. Has he gone mad, then? Fireflypaw keeps his opinion to himself for once.

"I understand." Fireflypaw responds then, though he wants so desperately to lean in and comfort his mentor. Who suffers so much, from an enemy he cannot see- what causes him to struggle so, if not the pain that came with the fear of rejection? Pity, is what Fireflypaw feels as he listens to his mentor. Mallowlark has ruined the high priest. "Every word you speak is holy to me, Dawnglare. You know this." He meows, though his voice is soft to avoid angering his mentor more. Flatter him, make him calm down- then he wouldn't have to worry anymore. If he could just make Dawnglare happy again, things would go back to normal. "I owe my life to you. I could never hate you." He tries to reason with the tom's coming and going mania, with the absent thoughts of betrayal, of lying. Fireflypaw could tell the truth and lie at the same time, if only to help himself.

"Can we take a walk, and talk about Her? I wish to hear more about Her, Dawnglare. Surely you cannot sleep just yet?" Fireflypaw chirps as he gestures to the outside, where the stars began to twinkle above them. The wind graced their pelts softly, rustling long beige fur. Anything to get his mentor's mind off of the panic, the suspicion. "It's been so long since we've discussed Mother. She binds us together, does she not?" Would this help? Oh, he hoped it helped. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 11 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

I understand, he says, and Dawnglare does not believe him. He retreats in on himself, neck craned oddly– defensive stance. He stares at his apprentice with the fragility of a scared kit, and he flusters, vaguely aware of the relief that comes with their blindness, then. Selfish creature of little care, you may call him, but he cannot be positive what he'd like to be himself. A thing he'd initially lost sleep over becomes sweet relief, with time... Should he lose himself over it? His blink is slow and unnatural, forcing lids to close and open once again, maw pulled in a half - grimace. His paws struggle to stand still, and he nearly looks ready to run away. Or did he want to get closer? He was not sure anymore. Ears prick to their full attention toward that face, but eyes swivel elsewhere. Teeth gnash.

Every word you speak is holy to me, Dawnglare. You know this. Dawnglare winces. Owlish eyes blink at them for but a split second, then flit away again, quivering pinpricks in a sea of dusk - warmed blue. " I– " He doesn't. His teeth grit with the thoughts of unholy transgression– Sooty paws coming between things he had no right to. I owe my life to you. I could never hate you. That he did. And Dawnglare's gaze finally settles on them with wobbling breaths. He wants to rip them apart. He wants to bring them closer and will away anything that would ruin them more than they already were.

Dawnglare does neither.

He thinks of sickness; of horrible plague, the second death (that mattered, that mattered nearly by his paws so soon again. He imagines mother's embrace, warm and dawn - bright and eyes that looked so kindly; twin moons. Comfort know one could ever quite copy, though some did come close.

" You would be a fool to, " he rationalizes at last, looking at nothing. And oh, fools, it ran thick as blood between Blaze and his kin. But blood could be spilled, and he could do that and more. Build him up, build him up, and he could fix every part of him. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Dawnglare has not been listening. " ...Hm? " The fog is blinked away, kissing thick whiskers as it departs. He'd like to walk, and Dawnglare glances to where the apprentice gestures. Outside. Dawnglare would like to sleep, and he wouldn't like to sleep at all. She binds us together, does she not? Dawnglare looks away, eyes scrunching. " Perhaps. "

He could knock it out of him. Put it back together. Of course, Fireflypaw would stay then. " You will hear much– soon. " The end of what he says is abrupt, because it truly was not the end. Low voice hangs stagnant in the air, considering, and then too fast, " I will teach you, " Dawnglare breathes in through his nose, a long, heavy thing. " Tomorrow– I will teach you. I will teach you plenty, " Dawnglare resolves, and he turns to leave because he'd like to be anywhere but here. " I must prepare. "

The sun calls him more than anything, but he knows its a lie, so he waits for the moon instead. She would not lie to him in the same way. And haltingly, he would turn back to Fireflypaw, the flicker of worry something the apprentice would not see. " We will walk... later, " truthfully, he says. He'd hate to disappoint him.​