private ROSES DON'T KNOW WHEN THEY'RE DEAD — sunstride

POLLENFUR

manu de vortes, aeria gloris
Jun 20, 2022
113
50
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Golden eyes glint from the darkness of the barn. She’s restless, made moreso by the presence of cats she’d spent seasons of her life fearing, and when she slips noiselessly from her infiltrated sanctuary, it’s to drown her thoughts in solitude. Though thin and waning, what remains of the moon above is plump and chokes the world in silver frost. The quiet sounds of the Horseplace drone monotonously around her. She quickens her pace until she reaches the fenceline where loner cats sometimes overlook the sprawling moor—and she sees a familiar rosetted pelt, a rich tail curling over the wooden slats. “Sunstride.” It’s spoken warily, but politely.

She pauses, wondering if she should turn tail and head in the other direction. She’d wanted solitude. She’d wanted to escape the WindClan cats who’d once put a bounty on her pelt, on her mate’s, but after a few heartbeats, her hesitation turns into muted acceptance. Pollenfur clambers onto the fence beside Sunstride. Her eyes are round in the moonlight, eyelashes catching powdery flakes of snow that fall in silent drifts around them. “And what are you doing up so late? Your Clan sleeps. I just left the barn.” Her voice is stiff, still. After a moment of quiet, she questions, “Are you planning something?"

[ @SUNSTRIDE ]



, ”
 
It is a difficult thing, to fear another. He cannot say that he does, or that he ever has, and yet...he fears for others in a way that he has not for many, many moons. Once he had been surrounded by warriors. Those that could fend for themselves, even if only for the plain reason that they must. Now he had a family. Now, he stood before cats that trusted him, that followed him as Sootstar's claws lashed out across his cheek. That they cower here is his own doing. Though he cannot find it in himself to despair for the peace he had ruined for the loners that live here, there is a taste of regret upon it all. WindClan's nests sat beneath the open moor air, empty or shredded by loyalist claws. And those that had fled their clan and its cruelty now seemed so cowed before him. Some wary, some filled with rage.

In the end, the river of their wounds all ran from the same source.

His eyes are hard upon the horizon, a blanket of snow having settled loosely upon heavy shoulders. It crackles as he turns to meet Pollenfur's gaze. There is no smile to soothe her nerves, but the softness of exhaustion smooths his face some. "My clan," he repeats slowly. Had she meant it the way that Sootstar once had? Her clan, as in ownership? Or was it a symbol of belonging? Either of them are distant enough sensations that he shuns them, the words heavy upon his tongue. "We will need to face Sootstar soon. I worry that we will be at every disadvantage, but there is only so long that we can stay here." It's almost relieving, how easily he can speak to one who is not of WindClan. A cat that he has no need to appear strong for. He looks at her without turning his head any further, glancing from the corner of his eye. "Do you intend to join us for the battle? You could remain, if you had any desire to."
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  • OOC.
  • 75520456_7ilCehUbViZ0qy8.png
    SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
    ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.

    TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.
 
There is exhaustion on that weathered, maned face, in the rolling slope of shoulders that carry so much upon them. Pollenfur does not envy the rosetted warrior who sits beside her—even his quiet repetition of, “My Clan,” is weighted, hefty. She ponders his question as golden eyes seek the muted gray horizon. “Once, Sunstride, I would have told you no. I would have fled from you and your Clan with my tail between my hind legs.” This is spoken without shame, edged with honesty. Her voice is calm like slow-trickling water. “But my kin have found their home with WindClan, for better or worse. And my… my kin… Downypaw is still there, with her, with the wretched monsters who killed my mate.

Grief sharp and pointed as thorns seizes her heart, and she closes her eyes, swaying precariously upon her perch. “Did you know my mate was Hyacinthbreath?” A well-known name to WindClan warriors, surely, even those who had formerly allied with rogues. “She and I were travelers… but when you were all displaced from your territories by rogues, Hyacinthbreath and I were attacked. We were not on WindClan territory.” Her mouth draws tightly into a thin line of pain. “Snakepaw kept me from going to her. Sootstar killed her. We… we were going to leave this forest entirely, we were going to see the world…

A tear slips from one eye, then the other. They feel as though they'll freeze upon her cheeks. “I will help you fight Sootstar. For Honeytwist. For Dandelionwish. For Hyacinthbreath. For my kin. For the kits whose souls I hope dwell in StarClan.” She lifts a paw and places it softly on her chest, as if to touch the memories of those whose names she’s spoken. “But I will not remain with you. If WindClan would leave me in peace after Sootstar is gone… then I will be content.



, ”
 
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Reactions: revelations
He considers her words in a long silence. Each muted reaction fades and is replaced, and that too fades back to silence. He remains there for several long inhales.

"No," he finally murmurs. "I did not." How much of what he knew of Hyacinthbreath was tainted by Sootstar's cruelty? He did not know her the way that others did. Certainly not the way that Pollenfur seemed to. Was she a kind cat outside of WindClan? Would he have been proud to call her a lead warrior alongside him, had she kept her path steady to this day? Would he have seen Sootstar's lies sooner, with one that knew far sooner? Perhaps they could have been friends at one time, before any of them had turned their backs on Sootstar. Or before she had turned her own on them. At once he is tired again, auburn lids falling over pale eyes with a sigh. It would be kinder of him to apologize. Commiserate, at the very least. Sunstride can offer her nothing. Each word seems pathetic and pale.

How was he to tell her that he knew her mate as a bloodthirsty monster? A killer who had forced him to carry a body back to his camp and teach kittens of mourning? They did not know the same cat, and there is no use in souring her memories. As she speaks, Sunstride instead begins to picture Hyacinthbreath as she was. As she was loved. If only she had been given the opportunity to leave the way she wanted.

"I will not beg you to return. Know that as long as I am in WindClan, I will speak for your safety, and your peace. I will not seek you again once this is over." A quiet affirmation is all that he has to offer. It is where the conversation lies for another several breaths. Then he sighs, softly, "Was this not your home, moons ago? Your family remains– why do you not? What did you see in her that so many others did not?" He knows that there is no simple answer. Or that the answer will be just that. Simple, terrible, true. A stark reminder of his failure. He should have been brave enough to leave when he first saw the signs. But family does odd things to one's bravery.
EpC61GT.png

  • OOC.
  • 75520456_7ilCehUbViZ0qy8.png
    SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
    ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.

    TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.
 
Pollenfur bows her head as Sunstride’s promise washes over her. She can find peace, then, once this has ended in a wash of blood—as much peace as the ghosts in her heart will allow her. The calico is silent as the snowfall, even after the rosetted warrior’s questions fade and bubble into the space between them. “It was,” she murmurs. “I was born in this moor.” She flicks her tail tip—the momentum sends the tortoiseshell-and-white scarf swinging below the fencepost. Her expression softens, delicate as the frost beginning to stiffen her eyelashes. “Cats can be blind when they do not want to see, Sunstride. I’m no more perceptive than the rest of you, but I never wanted to settle in WindClan. Perhaps a different sort of leader could have stayed my paws, but bloodshed…

She exhales, drawing her tail up and over the fence so that it can cradle her paws. “I was not built for that life. For the life of a warrior.” Pollenfur wonders how much of that has been passed into Finchpaw, into Downypaw. Would they cower in the face of battle, or had the Clans hardened them? A desperate ache inches into her chest and settles there, bruised, hollow.



, ”