private what do you want from me || batwing

[Deidre]

Leaving her daughter was not something she absolutely wanted. But how can you tell someone you hold so dear she could die any minute. She was safer, not with her? She was so tiny, so innocent. But telling her she was going to die and introducing her to the idea of death was not an easy task.

She was watching, making sure her daughter stayed safe, and when these Thundercats another loner had told her about found the child, she was relieved. She would duck away in the trees, climbing through the branches as pain twisted in her belly, and she found it easier to climb down and walk from there.

She had forgot to tell her daughter she loved her, but it was too late. The grief was twisting her chocolate striped face as tears dripped down and she limped away from all she had.

 

[batwing]

Alongside the dread that had begun to brew in the pit of his stomach, anger was starting to rear it's ugly head. Leaving the kit? Not even asking Thunderclan? Watching in the shadows just to slip away? Batwing could have scoffed at the situation, if his heart didn't already feel for the abandoned kit. Batwing was up in the trees already, following the scent the best he could. The scent eventually dropped down, and he dropped down. His head turned, eye staring down the path he had to rush after.

And he did, paws outstretched and drumming against the dirt as he ran. As he rounded a corner, he caught sight of the loner's fur. "Wait! Stop, hold on!" He called, slowing down if she did. He breathed quietly, his shoulders sagging as he drew near- keeping a respectable distance. He looked on at the other cat, his ears flattening as the scent matched up. "You're that kit's mother." Bitterly confused and upset, he just waited for an explanation. ​

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"speech"​

 

[Deidre]

Her eyes lifted to meet his, pausing as he had said to to avoid the angry claws of the other. She did not know him, She didn't know any of them, and could only hope they would be as good as the rogue said.

"I-" she dipped her head, her ears folding backwards and looked away from him. "I am, but I can't be anymore."

She was always so very bad at words. Where the child had many, she had few. She didn't know exactly what words the man wanted to hear. She'd have to be blunt. So her eyes met his. "I'm going to die."

She'd have to hide the coughing filled with blood every day, her nose bleeds, her throw up. She couldn't explain that to her. Why suddenly she can no longer eat.

Would they be able to?

 

[batwing]

Batwing's shoulders sagged further as her words followed. He bit down on his tongue, leaning back on his haunches. Forcing his fur to smooth, and his ears to flatten, Batwing looked up at the loner again. "Okay, well.. uh, fuck." A sigh left him, and he reached up, rubbing at his muzzle. His paw lowered, thoughts building and finally he spoke again to the loner. "Look, we'll take care of her. Just.. what's her name?" He finally asked, his head tilting. ​

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"speech"​

 

[Deidre]

What's her name?

She was sent back. Back to a time a long time ago. A large tom, his fur glittered as the sun bounced off the orange stripes, so excited to play with her one day. She didn't like remembering him. His death was a painful one. But, he had defended them. And she would never talk bad about him.

He had called her his little tiger cub. Her siblings didn't make through childbirth, and she had fought through her own sickness before coming out strong. It was a battle, and she was blessed by whomever may be out there. She was a miracle.

But she couldn't name her. She didn't want to get attached.

But she had no choice now. "Her father, he called her his little tiger cub. When there's only three of-" she cut herself off. "Two of you, names aren't necessary. I thought I would get better."

A cough started, and old habits never died for she turned her head away, hiding as well as she could the blood that escaped her lungs.

It was a few moments of heaving for breath and struggling to stay on her feet, before her voice, hoarser than before, would speak again.

"I could only hide so much from her. Could only protect her from so much. Three full moons... they go by quickly."

"If you tell her you seen me, tell her I loved her so much. One day... maybe death would be easier to tell her about..."

The chocolate tabby would turn, her bone jutted body was still fighting, but barely. Her breaths were harsh. "And... thank you."

Her daughter was smart. She knew she was sick. But she just didn't know how sick. She would put the pieces together shortly, she assumed. But she didn't know how soon, and hoped that the child wouldn't be pained for too long...

 

[batwing]

His ears twitched as the loner spoke again. The coughing, the acrid scent of blood in the air. Pity- no, sympathy was in his gaze. Batwing had no idea how hard it was, and he knew he never would, not until he had kits of his own. Having to leave them behind to a better life because you, as a parent, couldn't give it to them. He inhaled quietly. He nodded his head, smiling sadly- fighting back any weeping that was threatening to spill through. ".. I will. Starclan guide you." He whispered softly.

He hoped she lived. He hoped that she would bound forward in moons moving forward, her body strengthened. He hoped she'd return to see her kit all grown up and strong. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. Batwing turned, heading back towards camp, his ears flattened and heart in his throat.​

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"speech"​