private SOMEONE WHO'S THERE — sparkspirit

[SNAKEHISS]

They were out near the bank of the river together, partly because Snakehiss was to be watched at all times as per Sunstar's orders and partly because... well, Snakehiss hardly trusted anybody else ( funny, how he had the gall to distrust the cats who spared his life and allowed him refuge despite his crimes ). Stained memories threaten to haunt Snakehiss, crystal clear images of Sedgepounce assumably plummeting to his death. It had happened moons ago now, but the horror of it all was still fresh in the young warrior's mind. He feels a sickening guilt churning in his stomach as he bends down to drink from the river.

He raises his head, pensive, quiet. Snakehiss is the same; sharp-tongued when called for, observant, calculating. However, the fire within him has reduced to embers. All of his motivations, his dreams, his passions... they had been stripped away like the skin from his throat. Only StarClan's presence remains now, an ever-constant, tethering him to reality.

Snakehiss does not tear his gaze from the water's edge, finding it easier to maintain his composure by doing so. "They... could've killed me. They could've left me to the crows, there on the battlefield. They could have ripped me apart like they did..." His tongue twists; speaking her name seems taboo now.

Sparkspirit was the only reason he was still standing here today. Cottonfang had said so herself; without his insistence, she would have been glad to let him bleed. His eyelids shut. "You had no reason to save me." It was true. Did turncoating in the midst of war override what Snakehiss had done? He had sided with that tyrant after all; the scar across his chest was only a reminder of his pledge to her. She had slaughtered his littermate. Why hadn't Sparkspirit just joined Harrierstripe when he had the chance?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙟𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨

• @sparkspirit

• 

• 
  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾
  snakehiss
  

  — he/him; moor runner of windclan
  — long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and multiple scars
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

​

 

[sparkspirit]

There's a quiet relief to seeing him up and about again, to the point that being his shepherd is little trouble. The way that he had slumped into the dark across the remnants of their victory still haunts him every time the tom goes too still — he remembers panic, and the memory of blood on his tongue. This time it wasn't an enemy's. Once upon a time he supposes that the dark warrior had been just that. As optimistic as he had been about them healing and getting past it, they never really had. Until this. Now he sits beside someone he has entirely forgiven, and who he hopes has forgiven him in turn. It's quiet here. Not in the peaceful sort of way, though. "You're being dramatic," Sparkspirit answers blandly, even if the visual makes his heart tremble. "None of the others were left for the crows." (That wasn't the point, he realizes late. What use was a grave when you were dead anyway?)

"Nobody's going to kill you," he amends forcefully. As if he can take the air that made that word and demand its existence from there. Shaping them into building blocks that will make up their new reality, here on this river bank where so much damage had already been done. "You don't–" Agitated, the moor runner stands. His long, plumed tail lashes behind him. "You don't — I don't need a reason to save you. All that stuff, everything you did–" It happened, he knows he can't erase that, and yet– "We saw what she did, Snakehiss. And when you see that. . . none of the rest really matters anymore."

I forgive you. You're not evil. Your life isn't a debt for either of us to carry.

He steps closer to the river bank to hide his eyes in the rippling shallows. Blood-rust fur slicks down to his skin as he dips his paw underneath the water's surface just to watch the current meld around him. The icy leafbare chill sets in quickly, but still he doesn't withdraw. Instead, his other paw follows until he stands just barely submerged. Just to feel it. With a wry, cracking smile, he chances a glance back to the bank. "We're even now, from RiverClan." Stars, how everything had changed.

𝘛𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐  ･｡ﾟ  🗲  ╱╱ 02.13.2023 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘚𝘈𝘠 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• 🗲　　. 　 ˚　.  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 17 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
  
  
  ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
  

  ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————

• "speech"

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[SNAKEHISS]

He's scared. Sparkspirit tries to reassure him, but how is Snakehiss to know if Sunstar would be true to his word or not? He was a rogue after all. They were thieving and murderous and never to be fully trusted; his parents had told him so. They had experienced the brutality of those barbarians first-hand. Sunstar could order his execution at any given moment and his subjects would gladly oblige. He had the power and influence of Sootstar, and that was what Snakehiss feared the most.

The tom rips his attention away from the rippling river and looks up toward Sparkspirit as he gets to his paws, his attention captivated by the passion that gushes from the mock tortoiseshell. How was he so damn forgiving? How did his heart not hold so much hatred, so much resentment toward Snakehiss for all of the things he did over the moons? All of the cruel insults that had spat from his maw? Then again, it is Snakehiss' first instinct to hold onto grudges for dear life. Spite was all he ever knew. Stars knew how long he remained bitter at Sparkspirit after the battle with RiverClan.

Speaking of which... "RiverClan..." Snakehiss echoes almost wistfully as his gaze draws back toward the waters again. The battle and the events that transpired did not even concern him now, not compared to the hell that Snakehiss had endured since. Instead, he longs for simpler times when all he had to worry about was passing his warrior assessment. Distant memories cloud his eyes; he can picture them almost as clear as day. "What I wouldn't give to go back in time." He had been Snakepaw then, notorious and self-assured, blissfully unaware of the cracks forming under WindClan's surface. "We were ignorant then. Young. But we were all a clan again." Snakehiss doesn't care if it's wrong to want to return to a reality where that tyrant was still in power. Sootstar had been his idol, as had Badgermoon. They hadn't done anything wrong. They were heroes.

Now, they are gone and disgraced. Many of their former clanmates were. They were a broken clan, picking up the pieces that Sootstar left behind. "My life was... perfect... and now..." Now what was left? A clan who hated him? The reality that he would never meet his children?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙟𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨

•  

• 

• 
  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾
  snakehiss
  

  — he/him; moor runner of windclan
  — long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and multiple scars
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

​