private two birds on a wire ] pinefeather

[lovelight]

Lovelight padded silently through the dense underbrush of her Clan’s territory, her pale fur blending with the dappled shadows cast by the trees around her. Her ears twitched, anticipating the faint rustle of prey among the leaves. The air was pleasantly cool, a light breeze carrying on it the fragrant scent of distant wildflowers. She paused, raising her muzzle to taste the air, her whiskers twitching as she did so.

As she neared the SkyClan border, Lovelight's gaze caught the slightest bit of movement. A mouse, calm and unaware, scurried among the roots of a large tree as it searched for food. She crouched low, her muscles tense as she readied herself, her tail held steady just above the ground. She inched forward, her paws making near to no sound on the soft forest floor. As she prepared to pounce, a sudden noise caught her attention—a rustling, not from the mouse, but from just beyond the border. Her heart skipped a beat, curiosity and caution both eating at her as she heard the sound. Lovelight hesitated, her instincts urging her to investigate, but her heart was reminding her of the potential for a harmless explanation. She knew better than to assume the worst without reason.

Drawing a deep breath, Lovelight continued her approach, now torn between the hunt and the possibility of someone watching from nearby. The mouse, oblivious to the debate going on in her mind, remained a tempting target, still blissfully unaware of her presence. In the end, though, Lovelight's heart was always what they would follow, the part of her that cared deeply for others urging her to ensure that all was well. She straightened from the crouch she had been in, letting the mouse slip away into the underbrush, none the wiser to her original intentions of taking its life as prey, and padded closer to the border. Her eyes scanned the landscape, searching for any sign of anyone nearby wanting to make sure nobody was in any trouble. "Hello?" she called softly, her voice gently rasping, just a bit louder than the rustling leaves. "Is someone there?"

She took a cautious step closer to the SkyClan territory, her eyes light and searching. It wasn’t in her nature to leave if there was even a possibility that something was wrong. "I can help," she said, voice just a tiny bit louder than before. She stood there, waiting, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. “If you need it, I mean,” she added, though uncertainty made her question if she was just talking aloud to herself, given the lack of response so far.​

@pinefeather

 

[pinefeather]

Life wasn't easy to live after watching her mother pass on. Day after day, it felt like her blood still mucked his paws, still clogged his nose and her final gasping breaths could be heard in her ears. In truth, he almost debates sending himself to StarClan with her, just to avoid the near constant plague of existing with such memories. A void-ridden call echoes in his ears late at night, almost like hound's baying in the darkness. During the day he wanders the forest, kicking pinecones and clambering up trees, peering down thin limbs, thinking of jumping -

Today, he does just that. He bounces from branch to branch with expert ease, brushing his cheek against the trunks of every tree as if he must mark his scent so high in the air. ThunderClan's border grows closer and he only knows as such as the pine trees grow thinner and the needles far beneath him grow into leaf litter. She remains skybound, approaching the border with no intention other than to dutifully mark it and move on. A bird must hear him as he carelessly traverses the remainder of the trees, rustling some thinner twigs as he carries along. Down below, she hears a voice.

A song, sung by a creature so delicate and pure. Curiosity burns at the edges of each tilted syllable and carries forward, towards him, towards a cat who craves nothingness - wants the end. Pinefeather swallows, blue gaze falling to see the ThunderClan tortoiseshell, prowling ever closer to his landmark. Her hunt disappears into the undergrowth, but she does not care. The undergrowth shivers with her touch, the fluff of her cheek shifting as she presses away wayward leaves. Who are you? He must ask. Surely she's heard of their name during a gathering, or seen them on the border before, but in this moment... his mind is blank. He is unknowing, unyielding. The want for an end grows further from his reach as she speaks again. I can help, she says, and the chocolate feline can almost whimper at the sincerity.

Dark paws tip down the tree's trunk as he descends, landing mere pawsteps in front of Lovelight. He stares at her, fully encapsulated by her beauty, by her casual positivity, kindness - she is effortless. "Hi," and he... he is awkward. He is burly, body scarred from the fight with that fox - but the tortoiseshell, too, has scars. What is your story, stranger? Pinefeather must know. Desperately, he must know.

"I'm... just marking the border," she says. Her folded ears twist slightly, listening for other SkyClanners. He doesn't want them to gain any closer, to watch him falter in the face of a ThunderClanner. His tail twitches, "Mind marking your side?" A pause, and he curses himself for his tense posture and tone. "We can do it together, if you've time for a walk."​

 

[lovelight]

Lovelight watches as the chocolate tabby descends from the tree, their dark paws making a soft thud as they land in front of her. There's something about them, a haunting sadness that clings to them through every movement, but also a flicker of curiosity that sparks in their eyes as they look at her. She offers a gentle smile, trying to ease the tension she thought she could see in their posture. She takes a step closer, putting herself a step nearer to the SkyClanner. "Hi," she replies, her voice soft but steady, eyes warm and welcoming. "I'm Lovelight."

His scars are hard to miss, telling stories of battles fought and won, and she can't help but feel a pang of empathy. She knows what it's like to carry scars, both visible and hidden. Her own story is etched into her tortoiseshell fur, a tale holding memories of mistakes, yet ones that she would make again in a heartbeat. After all, perhaps her presence had helped, prevented a death, at least. When he speaks, his words are laced with an awkwardness that tugs at her heart. She listens as he speaks, his ears flicking as if he expects an interruption from his clanmates. He asks her to mark her side, and then there's a pause, and she can see the judgement aimed towards himself in his eyes.

When he makes an offer of continuing their duties together, Lovelight nods, her smile growing warmer. "I'd like that," she says. "It's always better with company." She turns slightly, tail flicking slightly to her side so he can join her, walking beside her on the opposite side of the border. As they begin to walk along the border, the lilac tortoiseshell makes sure to keep her pace steady, giving him time to match her pace and the space to open up if he wants to. She can tell there's a weight on him, the lingering shadows of whatever haunts him. She doesn't push, but instead just offers her presence, her willingness to listen.

"I've found that sometimes, talking about things with someone else can help," she says softly, to encourage them to speak if they feel comfortable enough to. "No pressure, though. We can just enjoy the walk together if you prefer." The forest around them is alive with the sounds of birds and the rustle of leaves, a soothing backdrop to their peaceful interaction. Lovelight hopes that in this small moment, she can help ease some of the burden they carry, if only just a little.​