private WIDE-EYED AND WIRED 𓆩♡𓆪 BUTTERFLYTUFT

For the both of them, their duties remained more - or - less bound to camp... and yet her path crossed with his less often than his did the path of warriors. Perhaps she was the most sane of all, hunkering away from danger rather than leaping toward it with lolling tongues and cotton heads. ...Then again, her chosen path was a different deal of delirium, drowning in droves of daft, drooling nonsense. For the sake of their very lives, cats need seek him out. Whereas Butterflytuft has little need for him, and Dawnglare has little need for her, in turn.

...Always there, though. She has always been there. Perhaps it suggests too much attention, to say he has watched her grow... but seen it, he absolutely has, out of the corner of his eye. At what point had she gone from a sniveling little thing, cowering at Blazestar's side, to a mother? Dawnglare cannot quite recall. It's a sudden thing, that he finds himself pondering the likeness between them. As Dawnglare has come to loathe where he is, has Butterflytuft done the same? Had a part of her died with him too? Or was the problem all him? The problem all... No, improbability. Impossibility.

He has dragged himself here, at some point or another. Through a stupor, he thinks, is the only time he would bring himself to the nursery willingly. He is gazing in — and in... was not where he found her, after all. A puzzled gaze drags back across camp, only to find Butterflytuft lingering by its walls, rather than within. Small mercy, that. Dawnglare picks his way forward, fur prickling uncomfortably against skin. Bone seems unfit for the body; soul seems unfit for the eyes. Dawnglare gazes down at her. He does not know what to say. " ...Hello, " Just so, he leans forward; observes the reality of her life. " Tell me, " he demands, pinched. " Are you... happy? "

 
Butterflytuft's pauses in her steps as her eyes catch movement, followed by Dawnglare's greeting in her ears. She watches him approach with quiet apprehension; the medicine cat's presence always sets her on edge, his unpredictable moods and strange beliefs making every interaction feel like stepping into a bramble patch. Unfamiliar, prickly...Yet, when his piercing gaze meets hers, she holds steady, no longer the cowardly kit she'd been when they first met. Her yellow eyes remain soft yet guarded as she murmurs her reply. "Hello, Dawnglare," Is paired with a respectful dip of her head, though the tension in his voice makes her fur prickle. His question, blunt and unsettling, catches her off guard. Is she happy? That isn't something she's used to being asked, especially by him. Her tail twitches, and for a moment, her gaze drops to her paws, searching for the right response.

"I..." She pauses, then looks back up at him thoughtfully. "I think I am, yes. I have my kits, and they bring me a lot of joy." Is that the sort of answer he wanted to hear? The tortoiseshell then tilts her head slightly, studying him in return. It's rare that he engages her like this, and she wonders what brought it on. "Are you happy?" She asks, though she expects his answer to be more complicated than her own. Or more terrifying. She's unsure which.
 
  • Sick
Reactions: DAWNGLARE
So she's happy within her shackles. Perhaps Blazestar had mentored someone as agonizingly transparent as he. Only ever teary - eyed with sadness, only ever happy behind his smiles. Able to be satisfied by something like this. If monotony is what you must have, why not make it of blooming gardens and sunlit floors? Of warmth always waiting nearby, regardless of rain. Of always, a full belly; of always, a present friend... He would rather surround himself with traitors, every painful breath he takes. He would rather wage war and throw his sorry self at his problems; another day, another life lost. She would rather surround herself with snotty - noses and sickness, apparently.

Dawnglare only looks her over with this answer; or maybe looks her through with the tricolors of her pelt melting into nonsense and the sun - yellow of her eyes becoming more and more gaudy. He is silent as the slumbering Earth. That is, until she dares pose her own question.

It startles him — startles him into a laugh and the punch of a word, " No, " as if it ought to be obvious. If it wasn't, it was because of this. Because now is when he smiles, a twisted thing that crinkles the corners of his eyes. Because he scoffs and sneers, sours his scowl regardless of if... Well, had he ever been happy? He'd been... determined by Blaise's side. But by the side of Blazestar... By the side of no one...

His laugh dies as quickly as it had come. This time with an emptiness, he tells her, " ...No. " And he is still, aside from the swiveling of his ears. " Kits. Is that what I need? " with a wryness, he asks. " Yours are quite enough for me, already. "
 

Butterflytuft blinks, taken aback by the sharp edge in Dawnglare's words. She feels a shiver run through her, his twisted smile and harsh laugh creating a discomfort she struggles to mask. She can hear the darkness in his tone, the deep-seated bitterness beneath his words. It's a stark contrast to herself and those she usually spends time with, and it unsettles her more than she would like to admit.

"That’s not what I’m saying,” She responds softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the unease she feels. Unable to catch if he is joking or not, she doesn’t like to picture a world where Dawnglare has kits. "I know my kits bring me happiness and fulfillment, despite the challenges." She pauses, meeting his gaze with a sudden, strange compassion. Is he…lonely? No, he has Mallowlark. She hesitates, then adds, “Maybe not everyone needs the same things to be content. I…don't expect you to understand or even agree. B-But if you truly find no joy in anything, then perhaps it's worth reflecting on why that is. Or…maybe reflecting on what does give you solace.” In a weird sort of way…she finds she sort of feels bad for him. How awful it would be to be so unhappy.
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: DAWNGLARE
Is it unexpected, what he says? Perhaps it would be amongst these folk, prowling about their forest with smiles stricken across their faces... Those who did let scowls settle... they would claim its for their people. They worry because they care. Dawnglare's predicament is not the same, a strong - arming by the will of the sky above. And had Mother nudged him toward this fate, as well? Miscalculation, misunderstanding... a question tapped in morse, his paw taps against the earth. He had no right to demand urgency from Her, but he fears what may happen if this continues for much longer...

A tufted ear flickers at her word. Despite the challenges, she is unburned with star - blessing, though... In no universe would Dawnglare ever wish to take her place — but if it had been demanded of him, he would have... And in that alternate reality would he dare speak of challenge? She does not understand, no. She could never understand. How dense was the fog of his mind, that he had considered for that split second...

...Dawnglare finds that he cannot be angry at her. He could not be angry at the bird nestled beneath Blazestar's wing.

Perhaps it's worth reflecting on why that is . . . He can't quite understand the look that she's giving him, and with a suddenness, he finds that he would desperately like to. Or…maybe reflecting on what does give you solace

" ...My mate. " He does not know why he tells her this, or why his voice suddenly takes own a pitiable tone, or why the whole of himself seems to sag with the utterance. " But he's not... " enough? What great sin it was to even think it, and to say as such would be a lie. If the nature of his torture was anything less than hellish, if it was not all - seeing eyes in every corner of his vision, if he did not swim amongst something crumbling, something doomed to die and never remember him... Dawnglare grasps for an end to the thought. He is unable to find one. There is a brief moment of uqiet.

Dawnglare speaks again, " Blazestar, " Blue eyes frost over with a bitter memory. " Do you think about him often? " He haunts him, more than he crosses his mind. In bright flashes of light he steps forward; begs his attention with a smile as soft as it is deceitful. " This — this had always been his dream. "
 

Butterflytuft listens closely, her ears twitching slightly as Dawnglare speaks. There is something almost fragile in the way he mentions his mate, and though his tone turns into something she’s never heard from him, she feels no urge to mock or dismiss him. Instead, sympathy stirs within her, a softness reserved for moments like these, when even the coldest cats reveal a glimpse of vulnerability. She hadn't expected him to share something so personal, and it catches her off guard, but she tries not to show it. Her head tilts slightly at his unfinished thought, but she doesn't press him for more. Perhaps it's not her place to ask. Instead, she gives a small, gentle nod, letting the silence stretch between them, allowing him the space to gather his thoughts if he chooses.

When the medicine cat speaks again, his shift to Blazestar pulls her attention in a new direction. She can hear the bitterness in his voice, the cold that touches his words. Butterflytuft blinks, her dandelion gaze softening. "Yes, I think about him all the time,“ She mews quietly, her tail curling around her paws as a smile wobbles on her lips. There is no hesitation in her answer. Blazestar had always been a figure of comfort and security for her, ever since he found her in the woods all those seasons ago. Even when she struggled to find her place in the clan, he was always there to support and guide her. His leadership, his kindness - those were things that had shaped her view of what it meant to serve SkyClan, even if it’s in her own way.

A small sigh escapes her as she continues, "I looked up to him...I still do. He was always so steady, so sure of himself, even when things got difficult." She glances at Dawnglare, unsure of how he might react to her words, but feeling compelled to share nonetheless. "I...I think he had a way of making everyone feel safe, even if they didn't realize it." Her voice drops to a murmur, thoughtful and quiet. "What was his dream?” She didn’t know this part about him.