private similarities - dawnstorm

[PIKESPLASH]

Things have been tenser than usual. Two traitors have been named, their leader has lost their life, and now there is an execution order for two former clanmates. Despite the fact that only two have been called for death, very few believe in such. After all, the pair that now had execution orders were former Ripple Colony cats. He can't say that their integration has been met entirely with open arms, but this has only soured their reputation. He spoke up for them during the meeting along with others, but he was met with Lichentail's bite as well as Hazecloud's. He meant no ill will nor did he think what she was doing was wrong, however he didn't want her to think rashly. If it took him being hissed at and seen as stupid so be it. Moving along, the former Ripple Colony members seemed to be in disarray.

Some sulked, some pretended it never happened, and some became more motivated than ever. One cat that catches his attention is none other than Dawnstorm whom had been there when Sasha and Deacon had been exiled. I don't know what I'd do if Snakeblink or Petalnose were exiled...To put it simply he can't imagine what it would be like much less feel like. While Pikesplash would like to know the truth of the matter, that would come in time. For now, he was concerned with a fellow clanmate. One he had scarcely talked to be before and he hoped to amend that.

For that reason he pads over to Dawnstorm. A tom he had seen take insults before and at this moment. Pikesplash was no fool when he saw Tatteredpelt purposely bump into Dawnstorm a bit too harshly for anyone's liking. He had expected Dawnstorm to say something, but the younger tom merely apologized and walked away. I shouldn't bring that up, right? It's too late to think about it any longer, he's already standing in front of the tom he's had his eye on. "I s-s-saw that." SHIT! Pike you had one job! Oh no, he's staring at you now! Keep talking! Before Dawnstorm can even answer or think of a response, Pikesplash rapidly tacks on, "I-it's not y-your, uhh, fault! Tatteredpelt is just b-being mean."

For a warrior, he's looking to be a sorry excuse. He can't stop himself from continuing, "Hi! I'm Pikesplash, but uhhh you m-might have known that. I! I j-just came over to talk. Y-you know like how are you f-feeling? Considering, uhhh, the whole... Execution... Order thing and w-whatever happened?"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 it's easy just to pretend

• @DAWNSTORM so sorry pike is a little mess he mean's well, he just is very nervous for some reason. mad funny when he could be dawn's dad and here he is going uhhhhhmmm twiddles fingers do you wanna talk?
• — pikesplash / riverclan warrior / masculine pronouns / 47 moons
  — bisexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — short haired silver mackerel tabby with green eyes
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

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[DAWNSTORM]

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He blinked, bi-colored hues downcast at the non-to-pleasant feeling of being knocked into, paws stumbling slightly, but otherwise, he came out unscathed, apologizing. It mattered little what he felt, or thought since then, merely existing until the next day with bated breath waiting for the other paw to drop, to be chased out of RiverClan like the traitor that he was.

His brows creased, low against the marred flesh above his discolored hues, helm rising to stare at Pikesplash with a look of incertitude. “Perhaps.” He didn’t see any wrong, wanting to express discomfort toward the ex-Ripple Colony member, routine even toward the backlash of remaining, one of the few that witnessed the life seep out of Smokestar’s hues and the spray of cardinal red against powdered white, something that remained trapped within his mind, out of sight, but never really out of reach.

But I already—He paused his thought with a simple, oh. Instead, Dawnstorm nodded his helm in silent greetings. “Dawnstorm.” He supplied unhelpfully, plumed tail-swapping in a languid arc behind him to curl beside his hindleg. Undoubtedly, Pikespalsh already knew his name. It was impossible not to since their return. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary that another seared his name into their minds—an outsider. He didn’t dare think of himself as a clanmate, nothing more than a warrior doing what he was told—submitting to a higher hierarchy, something Dawnstorm only knew how to do with a father who demanded perfection, and mistakes were punished with an iron-clad fist.

Blinking languidly, the chimera rumbled in bafflement. How I’m feeling? “I don’t know.” He shuffled in discomfiture. “I—” He paused, brows lowering into a hard crease against marred flesh. What am I feeling? He wasn’t sure. Every time he thought of it, inexplicable grief would well up and pool bitterly into every crevice and pore in his body until it suffocated him. “I wish things were different.” He replied heavily, thoughts thumping against his skull like drums. Smokestar didn’t need to die. If Sasha and Deacon had left peacefully, then maybe things would have been different. If he had acted sooner. If he had done something then standing there like a fool. If his paws moved quicker, if he had moved just seconds before Deacon then wouldn’t his blood be strewn across the ground? He was insignificant. His life held no meaning than to serve, improve, and become something his father envisioned. “I am an outsider, why?” He titled his helm, staring wordlessly at the other, confused why the other came to his defense, why he willingly sought him out to ask if he was alright. ​

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thought speech​