twolegplace where happiness ends and dies with you 》Spicepurr (PRIVATE)

[KITEWAIL]

At last they have arrived to the outskirts of the Twolegplace after an arduous journey to get there. As far as the trio can see Twoleg dens sprawl into the horizon and Thunderpaths crisscross. For the first time in Kitewail's life they feel relieved to see suburban labyrinth. It took three days to see it, Kitewail underestimated how difficult it would be for a kit to make the journey here. Neither did they expect how it would feel to be closer in proximity to the looming forest... and Florabreeze. Their heart pangs with panicked longing and fear, as well as so many emotions and feelings Kitewail cannot even begin to understand. As they shepherd the kits closer to their mother. The tabby will not stay for long, only enough to see from the fence that the kits were taken inside by her. Kitewail will not force the Maine Coon to speak to them, or linger any longer than is required; they had to be quick about it or they would not be able to leave Wiltingkit and Hollowkit behind. They need to return to their kits in Duskclan as soon as possible.

The crickets begin to sing as the sun falls beneath the towering pine trees that Kitewail keeps a wide berth from. The dark tabby is aware that keeping to the edge of Skyclan's territory would be the safest option but it would put them at risk of being discovered, their kits do not deserve to witness what would happen— either to Kitewail or what Kitewail would do to a former clanmate. Kitewail moves through the backalleys and beneath fences, every so often they rasp encouragement to their exhausted kits and will them to be as silent as possible. Finally Kitewail stops their slow progression. They slip beneath the slats of a fence and pull each kit after them. "We... are nearly there... you will meet her so soon..." Kitewail stares gravely down at Wiltingkit and Hollowkit and lowers their head down nuzzle their nose against each of their cheeks. "I have to... look ahead to see if we can proceed... Wiltingkit, watch Hollowkit." They hardly look at the two cowering kits, it stung too much even though they knew the time where they can not see them quickly approaches. The tabby gestures for the two to crouch beneath an overgrown bush then they swivel on their heel and dash away, with the momentum they gain Kitewail scrambles onto the fenceline.

In the moons since they left Skyclan, too pregnant to climb, Kitewail has craved to be at the height they are now on the fences connecting the dens. They maneuver skillfully on the narrow surfaces, pausing periodically to stop and survey the area. It will be the final time they scout ahead to ensure the path ahead is safe for Florabreeze's kits. Kitewail's heart thrums wildly as they descend from a fence and bound across a deserted Thunderpath, upon crossing it they stand just two dens away from Florabreeze's. The tabby's hackles bristle as they lurch forward, pulled toward the home like a fish on a line. All they need to do is glance through the window to make sure Florabreeze is there... they just need to see her... just to make sure she's there for the kits arrival...

The tabby freezes as they rapidly breathe in the air when a faintly familiar scent is blown toward them by the breeze. Every muscle in them tenses as Kitewail's head slants and turns to face the direction of the scent. In the warm glow of the artificial lights of the Twoleg dens a round form begins to emerge from a side street. The stars have chosen to test Kitewail. The figure is the reason for their exile and the implosion of all which had mattered to them before the birth of the kits. "...Spicepurr... I'm not here... to..." Their dull eyes frantically flit from Florabreeze's home to Spicepurr as they take a wary step back. When their eyes fall back to Spicepurr is when Kitewail sees the twist in Spicepurr's tail and the change in her body language from the last time they were together. Tendrils of guilt twist up their body and makes their paws feel lead-heavy, they are locked in place and stuck between fleeing back to Wiltingkit and Hollowkit or finishing what they began. Their claws habitually unsheathe. "...I know now... Spicepurr, Spicepurr I apologize for the pain I must have caused you..." They do not even fear the she-cat, only of what they may do by accident to her if she does not allow them to return to the kits. "...do you know if Flora...breeze is home... there is something important I need to give, show her..."

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shame is sharp, and my skin gives so easy

• @spicepurr
• KITE ; KITESTORM ; KITEWAIL 》 a small statured black tabby with compact muscles but the very first thing one would notice are the welted scars beneath their eyes. kitewail is perceptive & clever. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable, or rather once was; in their current situation kitewail does not speak to anyone unless they approach another first. they have a soft, monotonous voice with a rasp to it. their gentle side is only reserved for their unborn kits, they do not care much for any duskclanner.
  ✧ 43, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC

  
  

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[spicepurr]

Spicepurr idles in her garden, allowing the night time breeze to cradle and caress her. The house she has slept in for moons is finally becoming too crowded, too monotonous - new kittens mewl in the quiet halls, thanks to Hazel, and Edenberry does well to ensure their young ones return home every night, too. She escapes the claustrophobia to stand out in the cool air and simply breathe, hoping that such will be enough to let her pass another day in lonely solitude. She is rarely alone, especially with Hazel fussing over her newborns and the comings and goings of her niblings, but her thoughts are just as rarely spoken. Maybe she doesn't lie anymore - but does she speak as much in return?

Never the less, her nose tilts to the sky. The fragrant newleaf air tickles her senses and she can't help but long for more of it. Yet the closest she can ever get is, maybe tomorrow. Never today, never right this moment. The anxiety forever climbs her limbs by way of ants and itchy things and never gives her reprieve. Spicepurr cannot even discern that she may do better to simply rip the bark from the tree and get it over with - for what if SkyClan detests her for her abandonment? What if they see right through her without her lies and confirm her suspicions? What if -

A faint shift in the breeze, and a new taste in the air. It's ragged, unkempt, distant but familiar. Spicepurr feels her entire body chill as her head snaps towards the scent. Her limbs disobey her - Go inside! Hide, hide! - as they lift her hefted weight and prowl her forward, as if she is a beast hunting nothing but a sparrow. Right at the edge of the thunderpath, posed right before a home Spicepurr had only seen once or twice...

Kite. Kite.

It is panic that fills her instantaneously. A bile that churns uncomfortably in her gut, the stickiness of sweat on her skin and saliva on her tongue. What are you doing here? Her voice is lost, lost - and she can only watch in fawnlike horror as her body slowly shudders forward. Kite unsheathes their claws but apologizes for the pain. Spicepurr feels her broken tail lash, a foul, unfettered movement that no longer hurts nor unsettles her. Her nibling had been adamant on helping her whilst he was home - it almost sickens her that this is a test of that training. Kite fumbles over Florabreeze's name and - frankly, Spicepurr isn't sure if that's the muttering that snaps the last thread tethered to her. That, or if she's been shredding it herself, screaming in her mind palace to do anything but what she intends to do.

Florabreeze saved her. The molly lost her partner and children in favor of her life. Is it selfishness or bravery that locks her joints temporarily? Is it repentance or vengeance that launches her forth with a shrill hiss of her own? Does it matter?

Because at the end of the day - while her mind screams, "Leave, leave, leave!" her jaws close tightly around the exposed throat of another.

Spicepurr cannot tell what happens in the interim. Whether Kite has weilded their weapons, too, or if the other simply falls with no fanfare. Blood pours pathetically into the cinnamon chimera's mouth and she holds. She doesn't bite harder or thrash, she simply holds, and tears sting her eyes as she does.

Maybe it's a well timed strike by the dark tabby, but eventually she is warded away. Spicepurr, maw and chest smeared with blood, looks on to Kite with her fear evident in her eyes. She spits a broken, "Go..." she feels her limbs sieze up - she can't do more, the adrenaline's fading and she'd be the sparrow to Kite's beast if the other doesn't - "Go!" The wail is loud enough to alert Florabreeze, should the molly have not heard the chaos prior yet. "You do not - you can not see her!" She's happy without you! But who is she to decide that? The consent of it all is nothing but wild eyes and stolen valor. She's spoken, flustered, to Florabreeze no more than a few times than submitting to her agoraphobia. And now? Is this defending her honor, or trying desperately instead to keep something to herself? Spicepurr nearly vomits, the taste of blood still on her tongue and in her nose.

"Leave, Kite. Leave!" It does not occur to her how the other no longer carries kits, nor has them huddled to her heels. She has a single track mind, only fearing repercussions from the wounded before her.

Spicepurr only cares that she lives. It's startlingly easy to want that even at the cost of another.​

 

[KITEWAIL]

|| tw: blood descriptions / descriptions of death ||


Spicepurr becomes rigid as she takes in the sight of Kitewail, and hidden by the darkness of night a wince contorts their features; repenting in Duskclan is one thing but seeing the suffering they have caused firsthand steals the air from their lungs. They are reminded, as they dully glare at Spicepurr, how deluded they were, are. Starclan did not deem Spicepurr as weak, Kitewail had; it was all justification to satiate an appetite for adrenaline and the obsession to be more important than they are. Starclan never told them a thing, and neither did they do it to prove their worth to Duskclan as Kitewail may claim. They accept their wrongdoings, they apologize. It rings hollow, it will never be enough and they know it too well. It was all their own doing, their own choices which guided them to their current quandry. They can't fight either.

They can flee. By the looks of Spicepurr's tail she couldn't be much of a climber and neither does she appear to be in the shape too, Kitewail can escape to the kits and the sight of them could surely deter an attack. Their stomach sinks at this for what if any commotion wakes up more of Skyclan's daylight warriors, someone who would not mind to kill a parent in eyeline of their kits or worse, hurt them. But Kitewail vowed to not hurt any more clanmates. They told Starlitkit they would be better.

Every muscle twitches, begging to launch forward onto Spicepurr but Kitewail stays precariously still except for their foreclaws flexing beneath as they contemplate. Slowly their head lowers and turns to glance over their shoulder at Florabreeze's home again, they need to be certain. "...no!" Kitewail never took Spicepurr as the kind to strike first, maybe this was more surprising than the sensation of teeth pricking through the fragile skin of their neck or the shock of being caught off guard.

It's ironic they are now on the recieving end of excruciating pain as teeth sink through fur and skin, they do not dare move or thrash as the Shadowclanner had. Doing so will only make the wound worse or tear their fragile flesh. They need as much time possible now. Our kits! Their chest heaves rapidly despite their intention to remain motionless as Spicepurr seemingly considers what to do next: tear into the throat of the exile as they would have done or will she be satisfied with them bleeding out slowly? Either way Kitewail knows the end is imminent but it will be on their own terms. Kitewail pulls her forepaw upward and batters indiscriminately at Spicepurr's head and neck to stun the molly enough to loosen her grip. The tabby staggers away and lurches backward to fall.

Spicepurr speaks but what she says does not register, her lips move but Kitewail can only pay attention to the crimson splashes on Spicepurr's chest and dribbling blood on her lips. The sight of the blood confirms what Kitewail knows to be true, it is frightening all the same to see so much of their own blood on another. They pitch forward onto their forepaws and staggers to Spicepurr. "...you... do not... know what..." Kitewail coughs and spats out blood onto the cinnamon tabby's paws. "...you have done." Kitewail pities the warrior for the shame she will carry for the rest of her days.

✧

They can't climb or hardly scramble beneath fences or through well-groomed hedges. Each shallow breath is an opportunity for more blood to well up from the wound on their throat and each uneven inhalation and exhalation they come closer to their final breath. The kits are not far from Florabreeze's home but it feels to Kitewail like the way there is longer than the journey to Duskclan. At last, by the grace of the stars Kitewail crawls beneath the fence and pulls themself close to the bush the kits remain beneath. They sway as they peer through the leaves and confirm Wiltingkit and Hollowkit did not stray. "...stay under... there, my sweets... do not come out... Da needs to rest..." Kitewail limps a tail length or two further from the kits and collapses. Their head drops to rest on the cold grass.

The kits are so close yet Kitewail feels entirely alone, but it suits them to be so lonely in their final moments as they were when they brought life into the world. Death has always been chasing them, it would always be the consequence for being Skyclan's executioner. But they do not succumb to it as easily as they once would have. Someone must take Hollowkit and Wiltingkit to safety. "Spicepurr... Spicepurr...!" Kitewail has never raised their voice like so but desperately calls out for Spicepurr, with any luck the warrior chased after her to ensure they left. It hurts to speak and call out so shrilly and Kitewail's head drop once more in defeat. They mumble nonsensically before returning to breathlessly crying out, "Spicepurr... here I am... Flora... Flora..."

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shame is sharp, and my skin gives so easy

• KITE ; KITESTORM ; KITEWAIL 》 a small statured black tabby with compact muscles but the very first thing one would notice are the welted scars beneath their eyes. kitewail is perceptive & clever. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable, or rather once was; in their current situation kitewail does not speak to anyone unless they approach another first. they have a soft, monotonous voice with a rasp to it. their gentle side is only reserved for their unborn kits, they do not care much for any duskclanner.
  ✧ 43, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC

  
  

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