SUNLIGHT, MOONLIGHT ♡ BASIL

[DAWNGLARE]

Harpy proved a misguided soul.

His priorities were skewed, mistreated thing doomed to an eternity of placid affability. Fill another's apprentice with foolish ideas... He was merely avoiding the truth, perhaps afraid of what he would find. The abyss staring back at him, an uncaring god. Blinding, bright, heavenly light... A sight that makes him sing, sing ♪ Wonderful existence.

Acid burns hot in one's soul if a look is spared. A glance will keep you safe, true reverie will leave you burning, sclera melting into goo at your very paws. Blood will pour and pour... he's seen it firsthand. Gruesome... though nearly worth it, to gaze upon a god.

There is little that can replace that feeling, the same draw the sun brings to any wayward soul. The only possible replacement lurks at night, hanging high, just out of reach, reach... He swears, he can nearly hold it, crush it into moondust trapped between curled claws. He reaches to the goddess above, grasps at nothing, nothing, nothing -

Blue bug, trickling into the light...

"Mm -” his beckoning call is swiftly cut short. Names easily escape this one, wayward mind... "Little thing, come here,” he says instead, beckoning with feathered plume. Again, he reaches toward the sky. Strange energy glistens around an outstretched paw. Dark pads are laced with moonlight. Beautiful thing. "Look at this light you can admire.”

[ @BASILPAW ]​

 

[BASILPATCH]

Dawnglare was a strange cat, a cat who many of the clan whispered about when they thought that no one else was listening, and sometimes when they knew someone was listening. Things about him not being fit to heal the clan, about him not mentally being all there. But Basilpaw himself was a little strange so if their medicine cat was as well, he hardly noticed. He actually was rather fond of the tom, finding his musings silly, as he didn’t understand most of the words he liked the sound of them all the same.

He is exhausted from training, sprawled out in the ground with his tongue slightly out and eyes partially closed when Dawnglare calls to him. He lifts his head up, but for a moment forgets to put his tongue back into his mouth and his lazy eye begins to drift in another direction as he processes wether or not the chocolate colored tom was talking to him or not. When he determines that there is no one else Dawn could possibly be talking to he scrambles to his feet and pads over, wondering if maybe he had determined that he was sick or something. He gets excited for a moment, if he was sick then he wouldn’t have to go to training!

But no, Dawnglare raises a paw and points to the sky, telling him to look at the light he could admire. Basilpaw frowns for a moment, the last time he looked at the sky his eyes had hurt all day and thus he was a little skeptical, but he follows his paw anyways, gaze drawn up to the moon.

“Oh wow” he gasps, breath immediately robbed by the sight of such beauty. He had seen the night sky before, but the moon had always been shrouded, either by it’s own shadows or clouds. Here, now, it was fully uncovered, close to filled. He wonders what determines the fullness of it, did the cats up in the stars do it? Did they need it for light? Was it dark up there? “My brother and sister are up there” he says quietly, not looking away. He wonders if Dawnglare knows anyone up in the stars? “I wonder if the star cats can see the moon too” ​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare purses his lips. Not the strangest of questions, reasonable in nature. The logistics of the stars, the sky, the moon, how it worked, what they saw. Foolish as he was, at the very least, he sought knowledge in the best of places.

And he speaks of his siblings. Strange. Young as he was, did he already have family up in the heavens? Gone too soon, or ascended, reaching a higher plane before adulthood, even? No, surely no one sharing his blood could achieve such a thing. Banished thought, return to something old. What could they see? "Sure they can," he replies, and it doesn't come out as critically as he meant it to. His words are soft. He supposes it feels appropriate, in the dead of night. "We spend our time here before we go towards the sky... And there's a promise that comes with it— a promise of infinite warmth once we're there." He's seen it himself, fronds that twinkled beneath his paws, pools of liquid silver, air that felt clear in your lungs, sinking in.

"They wouldn't be so cruel as to hang the moon close, only for you to not be able to see it." He'd find such a thing appalling, really. The cruelest of jokes. As foolish as death was, one of the only perks would be a view of the moon. Beauty that rivaled any body of water, any meticulously groomed pelt. Guiding light in the midst of the void. Even it's light, shining down onto the other, could bring some tolerability to his ugly little face.

[ AWFUL TERRIBLY LATE REPLY GODDAMN BUT I GOT MY MUSE BACK I SWEAR ]​