private THE SEA NO LONGER TORMENTS ME ✦ fireflyglow

[DOEBLAZE]

When had she realized she'd never told him? Shortly after Morningkit's birth, she thinks, when the frenzy around Oddgleam and Orangestar had dissipated. When her paws had finally stilled and her head had finally cleared, leaving a glassy surface painful to look at, ready for reflection. Guilt had bubbled and climbed up her throat on many small legs, making her mouth taste bitter. She had been so afraid, so terrified to look into the gnarled mass of thorny memory. Touching even the idea of his last words had dug deep enough to scar, she tells herself ... but it does not excuse her. It has been moons since then.

" Fireflyglow? " She imagines she must look as small as she feels when she ducks into the hazel den, not that he can tell. It's empty now, somehow even more ominous without its signature occupant than it had been with him inside. She steps heavy on springy pine, hoping her footfalls and the thick scent of pine that cloaks her will be indicator enough as she finds her way to his looming form. Doeblaze pauses, settles down next to him with a soft swish of her half-tail against his flank. @Fireflyglow cannot see her, she knows, not that she could stop the ripples of pain and sorrow and guilt cloaking her face anyways.

" Could I tell you something? " Blood, so much blood, dappling roses onto the snow. Stinking copper on the back of her tongue and Harrierstripe's soft belly in her jaws. Soaking his fur with her tears as she clung to him and cried until the world went dark. His last words, uttered amidst her wretched sobs. The memories stick thorny in her throat and suddenly she wants nothing more than to tear them out, to excise them in an exercise of healing self-torment. Doeblaze inhales deeply and murmurs hoarsely, " It's about your father. "

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[Fireflyglow]

Fireflyglow had been rotting in bed since that star-forsaken day. Nothing had quelled the pit in his stomach, the feeling of his energy being drained for days on end. Hunger waned, leaving an empty grumble behind. His tail taps against the ground in irritation at the arrival of another cat. Why was everyone trying so hard to help him? He wasn't ready to move on yet. This was someone special to him- someone whom had spent more time with him than anyone else had. Dawnglare was his everything for moons on end. Fireflyglow grumbles softly as Doeblaze makes herself known, saying she had to tell him something.

"Go on." He rumbles out in response, his face pressing into the mint-smelling nest where Greeneyes usually slept. This had been his only comfort when Greeneyes was out and about, doing his Warrior duties. His mate was his only anchor, his only saving grace in this sinking well of depression he felt. Fireflyglow's paws knead at nothing. Was she going to tell him his last words, try her best to soothe the aching burn in his heart? She wasn't as cruel as to push him further into grief. His father's death still rubbed him raw with sadness. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 27 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Sad gaze regarding Fireflyglow sprawled in his nest, she waits with tense breaths for his reply. The sight is familiar, but never one she's regarded from the outside—only from within, with a terrible intimacy. A smothering embrace, grief can be, a tempestuous mistress—give up food, give up sleep, it begs, give up everything but me.

Is she helping him or hurting him with what she wants to tell him? The thought reverbates through her with a permafrost chill, slackening her limbs momentarily until she finds the will to tighten them into taught lines once more. It's with a unique sort of understanding she does not begrudge him his hoarseness, the aimless sprawl of his limbs, the shortness of his words.

" It's—Oddgleam's kit made me think of it. " A mewling thing at the pale queen's belly, bearing little resemblance to the saintly girl of whom Blazestar had so rarely spoken. Until the last. Tears press insistently at the seams of her eye, and secure in the dim and the company, she scrunches it shut against them. She will not let them fall. " Your father, when he ... " she makes herself say it, " ... died, one of the last things he said. "

" It was ... she's here, she's come for me. " Heat against the back of her eye is insurmountable now, the salt she refuses to shed burning at the corners. Oh, memory—it hurts, it chokes her on feathers, a flock of birds taking off with nowhere to go. Pinfeathers scraping her throat. " He might've been talking about your mother, but I think—I think he was talking about your sister. About Morningpaw. "

Carefully, she watches a face already dull with grief, a delicate balance suspended. Has she helped him in some way, or only worsened the hurt?

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