WELL RESTED \ dawnglare

[MALLOWLARK]

The sun bloomed bright, distant burning... the fickleness of this season had postponed this plan, rainy one day and overcast the next. But at last, the feathery heavens had parted their wings to allow for something azure to glare through, for the flare to dance down to earth and set their bodies aglow. Privacy, somewhere- sought side by side, they had ventured into the territory for respite, for rejuvenation. For not a moment did he dare let his grin falter. It would be blasphemy to do so! They sky would split with storm and he would be struck, burned to a crisp, razed by white-hot claws of the sky...

"Oh- here!" he hummed, unable to hide his excitement when they padded into the perfect clearing, quiet and aflame with the heat of the sun, bright and yellow and illuminating, even on the clearest of days. Brushing against his mate's side, Mallowlark let his wide eyes linger upon him for a few moments, noon-touched. He'd seen him like this for many days now, and yet- yet the sight never grew mundane, and really looking at him now... glowing, burning.

"You look like you're made of bone," he said, the dearest of compliments, a giggle fluttering from his lips. And the streak of chocolate across his back... that burned ruddy, almost. Blood-drenched bone... what more could he want?

\ @DAWNGLARE !!!!!!​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

A calmness may finally wash over him then. When the confines of bramble and thicket are long, long gone, and his mate is the brightest thing that lies ahead of him. No sun blinding his vision, the stars would wait their due turn. Mallowlark is just like them– sharp - spined and blinding, saccharine in a way that left earth - bound souls staid and confused. It would take a moment yet, unknown eternity for certain heads to snap and turn; stubbornness ingrained. Once upon a time, he would have understood... but no longer was that him. Should his own word not be enough? It said certain things, Dawnglare thinks. Things about just how well they had always valued him... Not greatly, it seems.

It's hardly something to dwell on. Not now, when sun - warmed touch is just a moment away. He banishes the thought with a shake and a sneeze, no longer willing to give time to those who did not deserve it. His ears are pert with the chirp of that voice. Here, brightly declared, and Dawnglare would follow with a skip in his step and a similar grin locking his jaw. A touch of paradise! (Or was that too, too hopeful?)

Hopeful is fine he decides, as the sun slashes through any doubt of shining white. It warms his blood and his face– hHis side, as snow - pelt meets his own, and a silver set of eyes to match. Dawnglare's smile widens that fraction he wasn't sure it could, but certainly, its true. A feathery tail drapes dearly behind Mallowlark. " See yourself. You're– hmm, picked clean. " His eyes drop down the other's paws; darkness not so potent and nearly haloed against the sun. An addition, then, " Nearly. "

With a sigh, he slips to the ground, fur fanning atop earth. A trilling purr beckons Mallowlark to follow suit, and he would settle his weight upon the body that follows, purr becoming a steady - rumbling backing of sound.

They could do this anytime they liked now. The thought drags a giggle from him. " Were you dust - specked as a kit? Revealed over time... only paws stubbornly clinging? " He reaches out with a paw of his own, imagining what it'd be like to strip back a color and reveal something entirely new and that much better... If only the whole world could receive such an easy refurbishing... " ...Or were you a star the day you were born? " The sun warms his pelt in a way it never had before.​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

Most darling of smiles, Mallowlark met the curve of Dawnglare's lips with a mimicry, the sight contagious. But the sweetest sort- not like that scraping, phlegm-flayed cough that only holy paws had been able to mend. Eyelids fluttered proudly at the compliment- both of them, sun-bleached skulls! They were more beautiful, he would claim... a sun-bright force to be reckoned with. And- so pale, the solar flares could not dye them lighter. The line of flame that streaked across Dawnglare's back burned so brightly that it would fight fire with fire, burning the sun itself.

Of course, of course, he followed suit; lowered himself to the ground, and curled his form to cradle the warm weight that pressed against his side. His fur pulsed from him as he pressed his nose to Dawnglare's mane, breathing in the dawn-dipped expanse. It would be easy to stay here for an eternity, he decided. Funny that in this company his future was so easy to conclude, but... this, every day... this would be a good life, even if it was not constant. For... as wonderful as it would be, this sliver of paradise to stretch on into an endless oasis, it was a sugared impossibility. Still, he could pretend, for now...

Pretending was no longer a terrible thing. Something only employed to keep what they had sacred and theirs alone- no, now he could dream simply for the joy of it.

Memories of kit-hood were sparing, but asked to look back- especially by this voice- he could manage. The first time he had picked one prey apart, from what colour paws had his claws sprung from? "Hmmm... not a star. Always a little bit... shadow-y," he chirped, shuffling his paw to sit beside Dawnglare's and kneading the ground. He had always been night-dyed, if his memory served him correctly. Blinking warmly, his gaze lifted to settle back upon his mate's.

"What about you, huh?" His half-tail flicked against Dawnglare's, like a dove's tail clashing with a peacock's. There was an attempt, though mostly feeble, to twine them. "Did you tear- hmhm- your colour away from the dawn? Or, hah- did it give it to you?" The little mark between Dawnglare's eyes... it looked like a blessing. He touched his noes briefly to the love-heart; there had never been a cat he had wanted to know so endlessly. ​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Any problems seem seasons away, nestled into the body that is Mallowlark. Ever-warm, despite the snowy expanse that was him. An endearing touch finds a place to wedge itself between his neck. And no longer pressured by the drift of the moon, it may stay for however long it likes. The pines cared for them better than no-man's-land ever would, parting to make sun for their eyes and their eyes only.

Not a star. It seems implausible with how he glows beneath the sun. There were plenty as pale as he was, and yet they would never light up the same, no matter which sun-spots they lay in, no matter the branch that they perch atop. His spectacle is unlike any others, and one done without effort. He thinks a cave - dweller would kill for the light he has. Someone starved and dark would go mad in the same presence. But that essence of shadow that clings to Mallowlark is still there, evident in the way it kneads at the plush earth. Perhaps it was necessary. Something to ground himself in others. He'd almost be impossible to see, otherwise.

And– what about himself? He chases the phantom feeling of their tails colliding. Red velvet tucks itself closer in his own attempt. the question has a fondness glazing over his eyes. To think he could seize such a thing for himself... And part of him wishes that he could have. " It gave it to me– She did, " Memory gives way to a visage of dawn-and-white, smile so similarly like the sun. Deft paws prodding him towards right and wrong. She had not owed him this, and yet she gave it to him, anyways. The fleeting touch lights a warmth in his belly;for a moment, words are lost into thin air.

" ...She had so much to give–! " Welling joy gives way to a lilt of the voice " And if I ever need more, Mother will give it to me. " He lifts his gaze to the sky. For now, it shone blank and blue, but only this morning had it once been blood - soaked, dipped in flower petals... something to behold. He wonders how things would be if it were suddenly different, someday. " ... She doesn't need it anymore. "

A red moon had let him glimpse Mallowlark under bloodied light. Blank canvas as he was... change was not so unimaginable. And yet, completely wrong, is what it was. " Would you rather be anything different? " Oh, he hopes not; but curiosity has him asking.​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

Again, she graced Dawnglare's tongue- giddiness swelled within him like the sun peeking its crimson eye over the horizon, spreading warmth across the earth. Almost instinctively, his mind trotted back to their meeting... to when he had first learned of her, of the slumbering skeletons and the whispering bones, the breathing earth, the watchful stars. Oh, back then- hadn't he been stupid! To not realise how important it all had been. A fleeting meeting, and yet- one that had stuck with him, even at the time. Now he knew why, of course... those watchful stars, they had witnessed fate in action. And he had lived it!

He felt himself turning soft at the thought, like melting snow. Listening, listening... as ever, for always. Their closeness was something he had once craved, and thus would never take for granted even when it was a commodity. Loved, in love. It would be the routine of his life for all of time, and yet- yet, it would always feel sacred. Would always be wanted, despite its easiness now. Mallowlark was no prophet, but he could at least tell that future.

His purr came from the most inner depths, thrumming trill, at the notion that if Dawnglare were to ever fade, to ever need more from the Mother, she would gladly give it. Of course, of course, he believed it. Why wouldn't he? These woven stories, spoken in that entrancing tone... they were ever cherished, eagerly received. Dawnglare's next question brought him into stillness for a moment, however. It was an ask worth considering, after all! And yet- his answer was not long pondered upon. It slumbered within him and he awakened it, words sweetened by the curve of his smile.

"No," he said. Simple answer- but it was simple to him. "We were made like this for a reason. Everyone, and... I think, if anything changed... nature would get thrown off." Maybe a silly notion to any other ears, but he trusted the cat beside him more than any other to listen. It was what they did for each-other, wasn't it? "Like- even if I had a different eye-colour... I might have gone to Fourtrees at a different time, and we never would have met." It was an assertion, confident; his heart was in his belief. He leant a little more against his mate's warmth, ever welcoming, ever there. He would not change anything, anything, even for the minuscule risk of losing this.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

No. The answer is what he'd wanted. Dawnglare roots around in his mind for any visage of him that was not star - studded. It is, O unsurprisingly, impossible. Even with the same starsilver eyes and glittering smile, he would not be the same. His very bones seem to argue with the proposition. Brown tabby stripes or sunny - faced disposition; perhaps even a void that might've once looked back, before it was blanketed in snow upon birth. The whole of it is rejected, pushed away; impossible to be so, and so should be discarded.

He knew this answer as the right one, if only because– and this was the truth: Mallowlark was perfect as he was. Most certainly, Dawnglare would only disallow the pushing of nontruth. But when Mallowlark speaks, reason expands far beyond picture - perfect and honey sweetness. It was not uncommon that he wished for things to be different. For some bodies to be burried, or perhaps to never have even existed to begin with. It is not a desire he can truly abandon, really. Fog of mind stutters on this thought. He adopts a contemplative look.

Could it be so for anything and everything to have purpose, as he says? If he were to blink, and the stars shifted an inch; would the world be decidedly wrong then? In that moment, this is sensical.

If Mallowlark had not shown as brightly as he had, Dawnglare may never have drifted to him in the first place. The thought sends an unpleasant shutter worming through blood and bone, and he relishes in the closeness they share, as if to ensure Mallowlark would never disappear from his clutches. It was ridiculous, considering that Dawnglare was just as much between his. Perhaps this is what he means.

And ridiculous still, was the thought that mortal souls could be comparable to the sky without blasphemy. But to them, were those on Mother's land not just as small? Significant, in that they sought to appease them, even if in a way that was not quite the same?

Dawnglare scrunches his nose, the thought intrinsically unpleasant. The lean of starry coat into his side is not missed, and Dawnglare would meet him similarly, wondering whose heart was beating in his ears. " ...Do you think that all of it matters, then? Everything? Anything? " He does not ask with the same skepticism he may have, were it anyone else. His voice is quiet in thought, light with incredulity. And it is all trivial– of course. When the stars could sit over generations and never once move, it is trivial, but it is the whole world, for some. Distantly, he notes to have Mallowlark live forever.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: WORLDS LATEST REPLY . hello <3

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• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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