private slam the door — sunstride

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 His time spent with Houndsnarl at the Gathering was delightful. Since their coming to the clans, Wolfsong has met very few eager to banter with him. There are far too many cats with tender egos, their pride bruised more quickly than their skin, and though Sunstride is always available for playful teasing, this is...different. He chose to follow him here, but he's been homesick for spires of white and raucous laughter between traded insults. The outing with the RiverClanner is the closest he's gotten to a reenactment.

Today, he is at the Gorge with Sunstride, ostensibly on a hunt, but it hasn't escaped his notice that the flame-brushed tom hasn't quite been himself lately. "Now that we are far from prying eyes, will you tell me what eats at you? Aside from all the lice." He grins up at him warmly, hoping to encourage honesty.
​

 

[SUNNVAR]

Earlier in their days here, Sunstride would have done most anything for these spare moments of peace. To be alone with him again the way that his journey had taught him to know– he had been spoiled to have such access to his dear friend. Now he has once again grown used to the distance. Where he once would have adored the privacy, his mind now flutters on tired wings from one thought to another. Of what he must do, or who he must be. Of all that had gone wrong as of late, and how he might fix it. It is carried equally between his concerns and his hopes. And on the back of these sweeping tides, there is Wolfsong. It had always seemed that the two of them stood upon a precipice. In part a terrible climb, and in another a beautiful view. Perched here with him, he can see the world. Their future, their past, and all the lands they had yet to explore.

He has just learned to see the worst of these views as well.

It was on their return from the Gathering that Sunstride had smelled fish. The rancid stench of RiverClan's waters and their overfull moss. Perhaps he would not have felt such concern, if any other scent overpowered it. If there was not such a bloody blooming attached to the knowledge. A terror in understanding, and in the unknown.

The wind brushes against his fur, tangling its claws through the thick threads of his mane to urge him away from the water's edge. He is steadfast in the face of it, paws pressed to crumbling dirt. Where had he been, that night? What greater calling could there be than to see where he stood, to stand in silent support in this unsteady moment? There had been no discussion, no glance of understanding between them. Once, they had hardly needed to speak to share what they thought of any situation. Now, it is as if he looks upon a stranger. Sun does not answer the question directly, and instead presses forward on his own: "You did not sit with your clan at the Gathering." The fading of his voice promises more, but it does not come just yet.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 The muscles in his shoulders tense moments before Sunstride speaks. This is and is not his dear friend. There were times when Sun's father would pass decisions onto him, practice for a day when all of them would be his, and they were never the simplest of monochrome shades to differentiate between the right and wrong choice. The cat standing beside him is not the young Sunnvar warding away young Ellisif's night terrors— the stiff shape of his back is authority, not comfort. Have I done something to set us at odds, my friend?

And then he speaks and Wolfsong understands. The realization is jagged in his belly, cutting as it twists.

"I did, for a time," he says carefully, staring at his profile. "I thought the Gatherings were intended to bring the clans together in peace. And you know I would do nothing to weaken WindClan." Meeting with Houndsnarl did no such thing.
​

 

[SUNNVAR]

He has not missed being his father's charge. Always Sunstride had known his limits– with a taste of freedom still warm within his heart, he could never again be who he had been meant to be. Not without being reforged. On these quiet nights, he walks through the fire. His tail flicks behind him, a sweeping rhythm. Though pale eyes do not turn from the gorge, he cannot miss the tension in his shoulders. One could not go through so many moons alongside another without coming upon poor times. Their fangs had clashed in old memories, but always there had been an easy repair. He would grouse and grumble, and then he would apologize in only a huff of breath and the pressure of his forehead to golden curls. That was all that they had needed.

"To meet, not to–" Frustrated, Sunstride's voice begins to grate his own ears. He exhales heavily. "Is WindClan as much your home as it is my own? How can any trust as much, when you are off frolicking in a time that we are to appear united?" Guilt rises like worms from storm-drowned mud, squirming within his chest and up towards his throat. To know a lie and still speak it is a cruelty he was not accustomed to. "You act as if you know what is best for WindClan, but how can that be the truth?"

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He doesn't even turn to look at Wolfsong as he accuses him of...betrayal? Of disloyalty? After all the moons of walking in his wake, of leaving his home farther and farther behind for the sake of Sunstride's pride, of a wound inflicted that Wolfsong took on as his own— at the end of it, he calls him foolish. Selfish. Fuck you, I love you. WindClan was your choice and I chose you.

Wolfsong stares and stares, waiting for him to at least meet his gaze like he's an equal instead of an unruly child. A howl builds in his chest, the splitting crack of mountain cliffs shedding winter, but the water it brings nourishes only thistles and thorns. They choke him when he swallows the bulging flames that rise from his stomach and his muscles tremble around them.

He doubts me? Distrusts me? Am I the one who has changed so much?

"You," he exhales, rough as stone untouched by wind or water. "You look at me. Look at me!" He steps closer, a snarl carving away flesh from fangs. "LOOK AT ME!" The white blaze lashes out, the tension in his bones snapping to slam his paw into Sunstride's jaw in a savage slap. And he wants to demand answers, an explanation, an apology, but all his tongue can carry is a wordless roar.
​

 

[SUNNVAR]

It is not a chastisement of a misguided youth that has pulled his gaze from familiarity, but there will be no convincing either mind of this. His own is in stubborn disbelief, torn apart by the battle with his heart. He throws himself from it with his teeth bared, and there are signs of a tempest brewing. Wolfsong had always known to tame his heart. He was a creature of control, yet his temper ran hot. What a foolish thing it was, and more foolish of him to bare his teeth and speak out of turn, wit words so very wrong.

Sunstride draws up to his height and matches him 'til their noses nearly touch, and while he had not reacted to the stinging blow, energy carts itself off in agitated motions of his paws. "As if I had needed another reason to distrust you!" he snarls back. Insecurity has made itself to a savage weapon, barbed as his aching heart. Not even the rushing water of the gorge can drown out the beating of this pain within every pulse. (No, not rage, something deeper and much softer– the color of mushed berries, and smelling of fresh-caught fish.) His paw cuts through the air in some finale, grief hanging limply between them. "You rule yourself with your heart more than your mind, and it has never led you well! I know as much, my father has known as much–" To think of him now sears more pain through his too-wrecked chest, and he might lose his meal for how his stomach turns.

"Enough of this. I will not stand here and quarrel when there is work to be done." Unwilling paws pull him back, though now that his gaze has pinned itself to Wolfsong it will not turn from him. He dares him, commands him, to instead take the first step, or break this painful hold. Perhaps his paws might move in due time, but for now they are rooted to crumbling dirt.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Sunstride is a tall, broad figure, but Wolfsong has never been afraid of him (or any other towering cat). But today it isn't trust that softens his looming— it's the burning chill that raises his hackles and sets the lake of his blue eye aflame. Later, he will nurse his wounds and mourn the snap of Sunstride's teeth. Later, when there is room for anything that does not devour all the amity between them and spit it out as barbs. "If you were anyone else," he growls from deep within his chest with the force of a burning forest, "I would have drawn blood." His ears lay flat against his skull. If you were anyone else, it would not rend flesh from bone.

His body reconsiders it the moment Sunstride mentions his father. His muscles coil in preparation, the writhing shape of a snake rearing back its head, and like the snake, there is a terror of the unknown, of instinct registering threat even if the creature doesn't know why. They have never been this volatile but he cannot negotiate. There is only the defensive baring of fangs.

"You doubt," he rasps quietly, "my heart? You doubt my wisdom?" His voice rises in volume again. "Why did I follow you here, then? My unsound mind? My stupid, reckless heart?" It is closer to the truth than he can bear, and he drags in a deep breath that reeks of ashes.

Now Sunstride stares without mercy, and even in this, he cannot be an equal. "Yes, there is. But you are free to work without the burden that is my foolishness." He does not move, as though he's pulled taut in so many directions he cannot take a step. Sunstride will not be the one to watch him walk away first.
​