true kinda love ;; crimsonbite

[Fireflyglow]

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

@CRIMSONBITE

His talk with his father was deemed fruitless in the end, his stormy feelings eating at him. He'd known of the Butterflypaw incident with Crimsonbite. Of course, he was upset that maggot-man had hurt Butterflypaw the way he did, but it couldn't have been for no reason, right? He was trying to teach her, and she was unwilling- too scared. It wasn't a good match, in his opinion. Perhaps he would have been a better match, better suited to such a short temper. Such impatience. But where did such emotions come from, he wondered?

"Crimsonbite?" He calls for the ginger tom, aches for answers. He knows it's none of his business, but the urge to ask was still there nonetheless. His eyelashes flutter as the light-sensitive tom makes his way through camp, spotting the ginger rump in the distance. It's dark out, but Fireflypaw knows Tugger's scent anywhere. Even muddled by another scent, he could see right through- Crimsonbite was Crimsonbite.

Something's up with him, I just can't put my tail on it yet. He thinks to himself, sees the pouting glower on Crimsonbite's face as he makes his way over. Fireflypaw doesn't get too close immediately, waiting for the ginger tom to notice he's there before he settles down beside the ginger tom. His fur fluffs up against the cold. "Is it true? That you hurt Butterflypaw?" He asks softly, not judging- moreso confused, wanting answers. The Crimsonbite he'd gotten to know was harsh, sure, but he was not an abuser. He couldn't be. There was a little bit of light beneath the darkness that dwelled inside of his cold heart. "Why.. Why did you do it?" He asks inquisitively, curious. There had to be a reason, right?​

 

[Lionsnarl]

Monster. Demon. Killer, killer, killer, crazy homicidal psychopath, crazy crazy cra- "Shut up." The refrain hadn't gone away the last few days, the constant berating and accusatory words - true words - just looped in that awful round, tumbling around and around in his head. Words that no cat ever spoke aloud, words that held no cat's voice but his own in the confines of his own head. He was lucky on most days if any cat spoke to him after the incident. Deersong and Blazestar seemed determined to keep him away any apprentices now, keeping him on border patrols far from camp during the more active hours of the day. It was dour work, especially paired with any cat with a passing knowledge of his extremely failed training session - he didn't miss the pointed glares he got even from warriors that hadn't been directly involved. They never said anything to him, but still the screeching chorus in his head continued, another phrase to add to the round. Child-beater. Bloodthirsty monster.

A small voice interrupts the round. Damn it all. Blazestar's most insistent brat was here to keep him company? He pricks up his ears as the child approaches, concern painted on his fluffy face. He's ready to flick his tail, dismiss the child back to bed, but he speaks her name. Asks about what happened.

The ginger tom swallows and looks away.

"Yeah, I.... I guess I did. Didn't mean to. She just wouldn't move. I wanted her to hit me first, I wanted to show her how to protect herself because stars know your -" He pauses. Redirects. "Girl just sat there and I just kept imagining Centipedepaw, just kept thinking that if somebody didn't get her to learn somehow, she'd end up just like him. I got so angry, she wasn't listening, so I got her by the scruff to get her on her feet, think I might've pushed her, anything to get her to try to throw a strike that I could work with. She took the tumble harder than I thought, I guess. Little thing. Fragile."

He pauses again and blinks. "You wouldn't get it, I suppose. She's your friend. I hurt your friend. I know you can't forgive that, just like Daisy won't. Like her siblings won't. But everytime I look at her, at cats in our clan who can't defend themselves, I see Centipedepaw and I just think 'is this the next cat whose blood I'm going to walk through by accident? is this the next body I'm going to have to bury?' I can't do that again, I can't keep doing it, I -"

Tears have begun to slip down his cheeks and sobs begin to wrack his body. "Shit, kid, I'm sorry. Why don't you just go back to bed, you don't need to see all of this."

 

[Fireflyglow]

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

As if graced with the patience of StarClan themselves, Fireflypaw doesn't go away when he's asked to. It's pitiful, almost. Seeing Crimsonbite in this state, so much agony in his eyes- something whispers to Crimsonbite, but Fireflypaw can't see the trespasser. Can't fight them off, claw their throat open and scare them off. "She's my friend, yeah." He replies unhelpfully, tail-tip twitching behind him. "But I get it. Kind of. All cats should know how to fight, to protect themselves. Protect each other. Doesn't mean the way you went about it was a good idea." He shrugs his shoulder, wondering how Butterflypaw was feeling now. Perhaps tomorrow he would talk to her, make sure his friend was recovering well. She was scared pretty badly after Crimsonbite's training session.

"My dad hates fighting." He remarks, he knows it's the truth. Evident by the way he let Coyotepaw go without a single paw raised, broke a promise with the very molly who gave birth to the apprentice. He wondered how Leopardcloud felt, watching them from above? His eyes direct up to the sparkling stars, squinting through the itchy sensitivity. Though, a sniffle quickly steals his attention back; Fireflypaw scooting closer to the massive tom. He speaks of his worry, afraid that more cats will turn out like Centipedepaw. Was Centipede just an example, now? The perfect picture of what not to do? He shakes his head. No, Centipedepaw would be avenged properly. By better trained warriors and apprentices.

Shit, kid, I'm sorry. Why don't you just go back to bed, you don't need to see all of this. Fireflypaw watches the tears slip down Crimsonbite's cheeks with a neutral expression, a paw reaching up to gently wipe the tears away with practiced ease. Just as he had with his sisters, just as he had with his mother when she had felt sad. When Mushie cried into his pelt, wondering why she couldn't become an apprentice sooner. Practiced, poised. He offers the tom a smile, toothy- lip scrunched against the scar that seemed to match Crimsonbite's own. "Don't apologize for having feelings. It's not a good look, shoving 'em down like you do." He jokes playfully, head laying against the older tom's shoulder. "You're a good person, deep down, maggot-man. I think you just.. Need some help, y'know? People need to believe in you more. You need to believe in you more." Fireflypaw states these words as if possessed by ancient wisdom- and who knew, maybe he did. His namesake came from Haku himself, a tom who wanted to live to his fullest before he died. Fireflypaw planned to live up to such a name.​