TWO BIRDS ON A WIRE ₊˚໒꒱ PEBBLETAIL

[shellpool]

she hadn't meant to avoid him, not really . . time passes in fleeting glimpses, lilac paws sore and tired from the incessant need to be noticed, to be thought of outside her persistent sickness, breaking the chrysalis of delicate fragility. she cannot shake it, cannot hide the wheeze of her nose and the rattle in her chest and the eyes that cast right over her and onto her clanmates without fail. each instance cradles the nymphling of bitterness in her chest that grows wings with each day, passed over and pitied despite the time it took her to make it here : a warrior. she was a warrior, and still cast off aside, treated like the sickly apprentice she desperately tries to shed. jealousy eats at her like nibbling leeches, peeling at the places her insecurities lie until they are bare, frayed like an exposed nerve. jealousy. that could have been what she met her brother with for the final time.

shellpool saunters back into camp, she keeps the sparrow she'd caught firmly between pearlescent teeth. bypassing the freshkill pile, the hungry eyes that follow her, she heads for robinheart's den. pebbletail is still recovering ; a precursory stay in the medicine den while the frost thaws from his fur, a careful period of observation from their tortoiseshell healer should he suffer the same post - drowning fate many have before. the darkness shifts before rheumy eyes, blinking heavy lids against the sudden blackness until pupils adjust, and familiar cerulean stripes begin to take form in the shadows.

the den is absent of their medicine cats, nor his dark - pelted mate . . a blessed moment of privacy. her steps are silent, wraithlike, the way her alabaster coat glows a bleary grey in the dark when she approaches his turned back. once close enough, she lowers her head, presses her nose to the striped spot between his ears. the sparrow is placed delicately down, " pebs. " she says, softly, hoarsely, the nickname she'd whispered to him time and time again . . he is no longer chilled to the bone, but she worries still ; thinks of riverpaw, long gone, and squeezes lapis - veined eyes closed. she presses her forehead against his, " i caught you something. it's still warm, you should . . " you should, you should. wasn't she always telling him what to do?

she swallows, folding reed - thin limbs beneath her. she attempts to hook her chin over his shoulder, " you should eat. " just a couple of bites, at least. the blood would warm him up, soothe the fretting that hollows her breath. then, maybe . . she could voice the things unsaid, the lapse that had separated them for the very first time. the piercing fear that had shattered her heart upon hearing of his accident, the lingering coldness in her paws as he recovers, prays to the river and stars above that he would be okay. what if something had happened? was her grudge worth not having the chance to speak to her brother again? it could have been so much worse.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ₊˚໒꒱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• ooc. @pebbletail hehe takes place right after his and middys lil dive
• 
• SHELLPOOL . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓆝 ࿐ SHE / HER, 14☽s OLD. WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN ; HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR. SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS ---------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.

  

  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted eiderdown fur conceals a body worn thin by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is delicately constructed as the rest of her ; heart - shaped, fragile, tendered with warmly shadowed eyes. beneath the languor of lapis - veined lids, her gaze brims a rheumy, rosen tinge — ruddy like a pulsing bruise, curtained with heavy lashes that keep her serenely half - lidded.
  

  LIVING WITH LONGTERM ILLNESS ; always exhibiting the symptoms of a lingering cold, most notably a runny nose and eyes. not contagious unless specified otherwise.

 

[pebbletail]

PEBBLETAIL

HE/HIM RIVERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR

chill still forms frost-like patterns within his lungs, bites at his ear tips, which are now too damaged from kithood to return fully. it bites at the scrapes on his body, the one clawmark there from midnightash hidden amongst the others caused by the sharp-as-glass ice. he resents his stay in the medicine den, would rather be back down by the river, although not on it if he can help that, providing for hi starving clan. instead he is holed up in the warmth of the healer's home, tended to by a fretting robinheart and a bemused, but concerned, moonbeam. splashdance visits as often as she can, bringing him prey and stories. she's been out training her apprentices, and she takes ryepaw out when she can too. he is forever grateful for her, thankful their trouble as young warriors has not taken him away from her now. midnightash has not shown her mottled face, but beefang visits occasionally, lichenstar and hazecloud too.

the warrior rests his head sullenly on white capped paws, his body itching for movement. it is his last day in the den, but even still he is forbidden to leave it, and bitterness sings on his tongue. the tom is about to start humming to himself, exercising strained vocal chords from when he'd yowled for help beneath he waves. a shuffling at the entrance interrupts him and his head raises, expecting one of the healers to return from an herb hunt. alabaster and lilac fur greets him instead, the fluttering form of his sister as she slips easily in, a sparrow clutched between ivory teeth. "shelly," gravely vocals call softly to her as she makes her way over, setting the bird at his paws. he sniffs it as she urges him to eat, and a gentle smile relaxes tight lips. "thank you," pebbletail leans into the touch as she pushes her forehead into his. her scent, saccharine, cold, envelopes him, and he breathes like he hasn't since kithood.

"share with me?" the request slips from his maw as he opens it to take a small bite, parting earthen feathers. shellpool folds her body into his, and he shifts, fitting her bony form against his larger one. her chin rests atop his shoulders. they breathe in tandem, the siblings, a long needed moment with just the two of them. the phantom of a third almost resolves itself in their midst - pebbletail pictures downy river-blue fur, aqua eyes glowing in the way riverpaw's always had. swallowing, the young man sighs. "i miss you," he murmurs, almost to low to catch, but his sister's sharp ears should hear it all the same. "i wish…" i wish smokestar were still here, i wish the babies were kits again, i wish riverpaw never vanished. i wish you would talk to me. "i dunno."

// "#a2bfba"

⋆˙⟡𖤓⟡˙⋆

PEBBLETAIL TAGS / TOYHOUSE
✦ cis tom (he / him) / bisexual, taken by SPLASHDANCE
✦ 15 moons old ages realistically, every 15th of the month
✦ lead warrior of riverclan
✦ adopted by LICHENSTAR x HAZECLOUD
✦ brother to SHELLPOOL, HORIZONTHROAT, EVENINGCLOUD, TWINKLEFLIGHT
✦ mentoring RYEPAW / mentored by FOXTAIL
✦ penned by lavs / message lavendes on discord for plots!

a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebbletail's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.

 

[shellpool]

he greets her as easily as he always had — soft, affectionate, though time has made her nickname rougher on his tongue. he leans into her touch, and shellpool offers a wistful, rickety purr as lapis - veined lids slip closed. for just a moment, she simply breathes him in . . the warmth of blood still pumping beneath river-sown fur. her chin fits as easily over broad shoulders as it had when they were kits, though the space where riverpaw had curled against her flank still ached through. the nostalgic comfort. she wonders what things would be like, if riverpaw had never been lost. gone to the storm, likely fed to the minnows somewhere far downstream, body cast upon the rocks like an offering. her eyes squeeze at the thought.

share with me? pebbletail says, and shellpool feels a smile twitch at the corners of her maw. a soft nod of acquiescence, moving to pluck a couple of the ruffled feathers that pebbletail's large paw pushes apart — they come apart with a soft pluck as her brother takes a bite, and , leaning back, she begins to lap apart the longer fur along the tom's ruff. then, delicate paws begin to weave the grey - capped sparrows feathers in. there is a somberness, here . . she feels it, even as the gentle end of wing clippings brush her pads through knots of pale blue fur. i miss you, he says, nearly inaudible . . yet syrupy amber eyes still drift towards him anyway ; towards his profile, ever expressive, all that she had never been. i wish. he says. that riverpaw were still here. that lichenstar did not slowly bleed themselves dry of every life they'd been granted. that smokestar had not disappeared into the great night. that their little siblings still needed them. that my pride did not keep me from you.

she blinks. i dunno. a beat of silence passes, her paws still working discarded feathers soothingly into his pelt. things had changed so much, in their seasons . . back when hazecloud shared a nursery with iciclefang, and lichentail's smile reached their tired blue eyes. before a night that ushered in a stranger, smelling inconspicuously of nothing at all, and tucked her right into the heart of their camp without a word. a whisper of distrust amongst riverclan's numbers, iciclefang's harsh eyes and comments gone ignored in favor of secrecy. before death, and disappearance, and disgrace . . shellpool sniffs, quietly, " i'm sorry. i didn't mean to . . " to push us apart. she swallows, and it's as if a dam has broken, " i worry about you, constantly ; i just want what's — what's best for you, and i . . " have our mothers stubbornness. her throat tightens. she clears it feebly, " i could've lost you today. if midnightash hadn't been there, you could've . . you could've died. " all that remained of their litter, found frostbitten on the border, to be used as bargaining piece for food and shelter.

she wills the thought away, unwilling to tolerate the way it squeezes at her heart. the rest of her feathers flutter from her paws and to the soil, a heavy sigh falling from trembling maw. she presses her forehead against the back of his neck, smelling of bird feathers and kithood, " i could've lost you, and, and the last time i'd spoken to you i was — so angry. i wouldve never forgiven myself for that. " even know, her heart ticks upward ; her nostrils pinch, a quiet snort of breath bubbling from a hitch in her throat, " i don't know what id do without you. " i miss you too.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ₊˚໒꒱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• ooc.
• 
• SHELLPOOL . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓆝 ࿐ SHE / HER, 14☽s OLD. WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN ; HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR. SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS ---------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.

  

  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted eiderdown fur conceals a body worn thin by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is delicately constructed as the rest of her ; heart - shaped, fragile, tendered with warmly shadowed eyes. beneath the languor of lapis - veined lids, her gaze brims a rheumy, rosen tinge — ruddy like a pulsing bruise, curtained with heavy lashes that keep her serenely half - lidded.
  

  LIVING WITH LONGTERM ILLNESS ; always exhibiting the symptoms of a lingering cold, most notably a runny nose and eyes. not contagious unless specified otherwise.