someday, somewhere, somehow ;; dawnglare

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

@DAWNGLARE
Washing blood out of your pawpads isn't the easiest, Fireflypaw discovered that on his own. Rinsing his paws in a puddle of nearly-frozen water- scrubbing them until they ache from the cold. It's tinted his black paws with an amber hue, and even though they're clean, he still sees the blood as if it still dripped from his very paws. Morningpaw's blood. His baby sister.. Fireflypaw hiccups, sniffling away angry tears. Why did she have to die? He thought to himself, tail thumping against the ground behind him. He wanted to stop feeling so angry at Snowpaw, knows it was an accident- but he can't help but to blame him for not looking. Himself, for not protecting his sister. Instead, he jumped into a fight with Jaypaw. He should have helped her.

His steps are repetitive as he stands, and it's nearly routine after these last few days. One step, two, no- back up two paces. Begin again, one, two, three- GAH! Back up again. "O-One.. Two, three.. Four.." He counts aloud, tail lashing behind him in frustration. Fireflypaw makes his way around sticks, paws feeling like bugs crawled all over him if he stepped on one- the crack of branches making him cringe inwardly. He hated this.

"G-Green is.. A deadly color." He mutters under his breath, looking up- Dawnglare is not too far from him, worrying over herbs it seems. He looks tired, exhausted- scared. Fireflypaw takes a step towards the den, and halts- paw refusing to touch the ground. He can see her blood still, even though it's been cleaned away. His heart hammers in his chest as the memory returns to him.

Someone help her! Someone- my baby.. He's staring off into the den, seeing through Dawnglare. Stuck in place. Where is Snowpaw?! Where is he?! Thu-Thump. Where is my siblings?! I want my siblings! He's snapped back into reality when the High Priest speaks; though he doesn't hear him the first time. Blurry vision never clears, but Fireflypaw could find Dawnglare anywhere. His scent was unique enough, and it was burned into Fireflypaw's memory from a young age. His face stings.

"What.. What was that, Dawnglare?" He asks softly, lost- confused. He realizes where he wandered to, and shame engulfs him. "Oh- I'm sorry, I'm blocking the.. The mouth of your den." He mutters, side-stepping only to halt again. His tail flicks, a tick- One, two, three, four- Then rests. ​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

There was nothing he could have done, he knows.

But the thoughts never cease. Thoughts of what he could've done differently, possible or not. Thoughts of all those faces, those wailing, and those eerily still. Thoughts of the stars. How they were treating her, how she settled into their warm embrace. If there was any way he could reach her... to travel without it being in vain. Their motives good, but their intentions always a mystery. What if it's too soon? What if they only greeted him with silence for his trek, a call to wait, relax, but how could he, really?

And her siblings. Little ones, in all their thoughtless, mindless glory, surely they worried too. Worse than him, their thoughts irrational, sporadic. It was plain to see by the way they cried and the way they screamed. The way they paced, are pacing, Firefly pacing around camp like an aimless bird, muttering like the little nightmare he is. More than once, he's cast glances to his den, only to change his mind. And now, more than once, he's crept closer; ghost lost on its trail. Truly, he doesn't know what to do. It wasn't like before where he seemingly only came to be a nuisance, and nothing else. He had a reason to look. A visage of blood. And it was too bad. Too bad he had to see such a thing.

Brows pinched, his face is pained. The pain of speaking to someone you didn't know how to speak to, more than anything else; but pain, all the same. Not a thought, for what would he think of? His mouth moves on its own. "Are you alright?" low-spoken question. And of course, they don't hear him. Narrow of his eyes, flash of annoyance, but how could he be cross with little more than a ghost as he was. Still, his grimace grows deeper. Uncomfortable. It's fine, he doesn't bother with. "I was coming to find you." Was that the truth? He can't remember. He can't remember his question either. "What are you muttering about? How are you?" The question, at last, he remembers, tacked on awkwardly at the end.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

I was coming to find you. He says, voice soft and yet so familiar to him. What are you muttering about? How are you? Those words are so foreign, however- Dawnglare wasn't the type to ask if someone was alright, but he was trying, and Fireflypaw understood that. He just didn't have the right words in this moment to explain the emotions going through his head, so he settles for silence as he ponders an answer. My sister's dead, he wants to wail out. She's dead, and Snowpaw killed her- and Pops.. Pops, he isn't the same anymore. But he doesn't. He parts his lips to speak, clearing his throat. Sore.

"Nothing," Sing-song tune, cracking with sorrow; the smell of catmint reaches his nose, but he doesn't know the source. Fireflypaw takes a hesitant step inside of Dawnglare's den, seats himself right in front of the High Priest so he could lean his forehead against Dawnglare's chest. He's barely touching him, knows that Dawnglare probably thinks of him as a pest. Children were gross, after all. "Is this what She desires?" He asks inquisitively, ears flicked back against his head. Dawn's fur was so silky soft, smelling of herbs; he wants to curl up there and never leave. "I miss her," He hiccups softly, tears beginning their forsaken fall from his eyes. It's so quiet, the little sobs that leaves him- it only takes a good ear to hear him.

"I don't know what to do.." Just tell me what to do, Dawn..​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Nothing, he replies. So simply, not convincingly, but he will take it, and leave it. It's hardly his job to ask him in the first place. Neither is it his job to pry an answer from him. And either way, he did not care. It was not important, not really. Still, he is... attentive. Attentive because he's Blaise's child, because he's Morningpaw's littermate, because he is... unwell, no matter what he claims.

Close, close, closer, so suddenly, until its too close, and he tenses. Holds his breath. Doesn't understand why he's the one being leaned upon. The decisions by a child's paws, far from logical... far from good.

But he would hate for the only time this happens– for the only time Firefly is ever close to him, to be when he's toppling towards death's edge; bloodied at the neck, their eyes dull and lifeless, brought to Dawnglare with the hope of being saved when he knew it was not possible. He didn't want that to be his only memory.

So he relaxes. He breathes. He lets his shoulders sag, even if his mind is muddled and his eyes stare straight ahead. He focuses not on what he should do, but instead, what he can. Fine to speak of the stars, fine to wait and see. He's quiet, and he asks, Is this what She desires? What to say? What to think, really? He furrows his brows "Mother?" They ask if She wished Morningpaw's death. "Of course not." 'Desire' implies... want. The need to punish, and Morningpaw had earned no such thing. It isn't her who determines these things. The hints are always there, but not everyone knows how to listen.

I miss her, they say, and now they're crying ugly tears. Of course he did. Of course he was going to when the face is more than passing. "There's nothing to do," he tells him the truth. More than once, he has seen someone taken away, only for them to never return. He hadn't cared then. Easily, he'd moved on. And even if he felt differently now, the goal was still the same, was it not? "You're going to miss her," They always do. And he had always thought it... pitiful. Perhaps that wasn't quite so. Missing is okay, he begins to think. "Keep missing her. She deserves it."

How much time did he waste when she was here? How much time was spent away, away; distantly weary, a shadow lingering at the edge of her life. He hadn't cared. He hadn't thought so. How sad is it, to only find that he does once time has far ran away and her nest is lined with clouds? Maybe it was time to start caring. He doesn't know how to, but maybe, it's time.

He has another chance. Two. Maybe four. Tight silence. He does not know how to look at Firefly, but he's looking. He presses his muzzle to Firefly's head. "Just... don't let it ruin things for you."​