WINGS OF A DOVE | cricketcry



Camp had been abuzz with activity, more abuzz than he'd ever known it, and he could not help but take credit for such a thing. WindClan may not have needed extra fuel to keep its fire going, but the tom was more than happy to provide it all the same, knowing what he wanted out of the opportunity and refusing to let it simmer down until he was successful. Regardless, there was a moment in time where he was alone, the clan busy with other matters and conversations, and within that space of isolation, all Sootspot could do was survey the area like a sentry.

Sootspot noticed a familiar Tunneler ducking towards an exit and, in one swift motion, he beat Cricketcry to his workplace. He relaxed upon his haunches, effectively blocking the entrance to the tunnels, his smile absent-minded enough to suggest an accident but with eyes full of intent. "Ah, Cricketcry. It is a pleasant surprise to see you above ground." He didn't know what the other did beneath the surface, but he doubted it was anything like what Sootspot did. The tom mastered his craft, all he could picture Cricketcry doing was hiding from the world and following his sister around like a lost puppy. 'It truly should've been me leading those patrols underground. Even now I can picture the tunnels as if they were before me now.' In two moons time, perhaps he would get his chance - with loyal members dropping like flies, Sunstar was running out of excuses to keep a talented one away from his council.

"I suppose you must be busy, we are short on Tunnelers at the moment, perhaps even shorter if Sunstar exiles Bluefrost. I have heard it is a possibility that losing her position is not enough." He searched for a reaction to the false news. The truth was perhaps even more vicious than that, away from the clan Bluefrost could run away from her actions, within it, she would have to spend every day reliving her mistakes. Exile would be a mercy, one he may have wished for himself, had his desire to live not overshadowed his pride. He knew he could scramble back to the Lead Warrior position and beyond, even if he had to use his sister's metaphorical corpse as a ladder to do so. "What are your thoughts on that?"

@Cricketcry
 
Withdrawing within himself is the only way in which Cricketcry knows how to cope when it all becomes too overwhelming, the tom throws himself into an abundant workload to escape camp and isolate himself as he knows best. Cricketcry feels discomfit to be in camp and after an attempt to eat a meal the tightening in his chest nearly makes him choke on his meager meal he knows he must leave, abandoning his meal and swiftly departing. He was able to escape camp but was not able to lunge himself into the tunnels quick enough. Sootspot presses in front of him, effectively denying him access to sanctuary.

'...it is a pleasant surprise to see you aboveground.' Bitterly, Cricketcry rolls his eyes and sets his jaw tensely, his ears lowering in frustration. "Sure it is, Sss... Sootspot," he snaps, but despite his initial outward bitterness towards his counterpart he feels himself shrinking into his fur, his body language outwardly timorous. "...what do y-y-you want from...me?"

Sootspot tips Cricketcry off quickly towards his motives to apprehend him and it causes his mouth to become xeric and the fur of his tail to bristle. It is only Sootspot, continuing his hate campaign against his own sister. Adverting his virulent gaze downwards so he can stare at Sootspot's paws, Cricketcry swallows rapidly. The nervousness he oftentimes feels around Sootspot (and frankly the entirety of Sootstar's family) brings upon a feeling of hatred as he reaches his wit's end. "I am busy," he remarks without stutter but his voice is strained with the anxiety clamping around his chest. "If Bluefrost is exiled, I will be glad." He lifts his gaze to stare at a point on Sootspot's face, refusing to look into the tom's green eyes before he continues. "Is this what you would like to hear, Sootspot?"

"Bluefrost... b-betrayed us all... This is... undeniable." Cricketcry steps back an inch and sits back as Sootspot does- his hindleg aches from overuse and he reckons Sootspot may not let himself leave so soon. He presumes Sootspot must've seen his brief discussions with Bluefrost, suspects himself to be sympathizer.



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  • OOC—
  • CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan
    𓆧 he/him / 28 ☾
    𓆧 timid, cynical & wistful
    𓆧 has a slight limp
    𓆧 petite lh chocolate tabby/fawn chimera
 


The tom's brows knitted together at Cricketcry's hesitation, his posture instinctively straightening as the other's began to wither. He was one of the shortest within the clan, any illusions of height only granted by fur that could stand twice the width of his body if he willed it to. At that moment, as he found himself slowly towering over someone, he knew just how nice it would be to see the clan from the Tallrock again. Sootspot's ears swiveled to a forward point, pupils thinning at the other's snapping. He was like a cornered rat preparing to strike, but the chimera doubted Cricketcry had fangs to be wary of.

The other's simpering was a shield from worse comments he could make about the chimera, an enormous list of insults lay just below a terse smile, almost waiting to emerge. "I know your best is a mediocre thing," he mewed with a faux pity, voice dropping to a near whisper. "But should I ask my nieces and nephews to lie, they would do a far better job than that and they cannot even speak yet." Little babbling mewling things as sickly as the kitten Cottonfang had brought in - perhaps StarClan was looking out for him after all by reminding his siblings that actions would always have consequences. A feeling of unequal treatment had hardened him to the idea of loving them, whilst he did not pray for their death, he did not think he could mourn them if they died. They had no personalities, no feelings, nothing except for one motivation: food. At the moment, it did not feel like they were living beings, only spawns of Bluefrost and Thriftfeather that represented the worst of both parents.

And when they grew up, their legacy shadowed by what had come before them... how was he supposed to love them then?

"Tell me she is a traitor again. Tell me what she has done to betray WindClan and tell me why you think she should be exiled." This time, his smile did not bother to reach his voice either. Should Cricketcry's eyes fall to the ground, he would see the tom's claws unsheathed, long, unkempt needles that betrayed how pristine the rest of him was. 'A Tunneler needed unruly claws', he'd told himself, 'they didn't make very good diggers otherwise'. "Should you lie, I will ask again."

 
I know your best is a mediocre thing. The words spoken by Sootspot strikes a chord within Cricketcry that results in a subtle flinch of his lip upwards. This is something Cricketcry is sure to be true, an immutable truth and something he will never be able to prove as otherwise to the chimera. The familiar aching in his ribcage threatens to constrict tighter, sink iron-clad claws through his lungs and heart. Cricketcry does not look mawkish in this moment however, he refuses to squirm beneath the gaze of Sootspot. No one bearing bearing kinship to Sootstar gets the pleasure of that. But his heart flutters unevenly, fast despite the anxiety's iron claws crushing his chest. "I am n-not lying..." Cricketcry says this admittedly glibly, and though he knows this to be the truth, Sootspot does not.

The tabby is asked to reaffirm that Bluefrost should be exiled. He wonders: Does Sootspot find some sort of morbid satisfaction from seeing the way in which he shrunk away? Does the chimera find glee in the way in which there is a fulgent gleam over his eyes due to the anxiety threatening to become a show of waterworks? Is there some sort of sadistic motive for this?

Cricketcry removes his eyesight away from the random point on Sootspot's head, but they do not wander downwards to see unsheathed claws. Instead, they flicker to make contact with Sootspot's. "Bluefrost d-deserves to be exiled." Cricketcry repeats, reluctantly keeping eye contact with his interrogator. "She f-f-f...fraternized with the enemy. She decided... to have kits by a traitor!" His broken, raspy voice is harsh with anger, an ode to the unadulterated hatred he feels towards his counterpart in this moment. "Not only this, she b-b...brought! That traitor to the camp... where your kits are... And now the t-t-trrr...raitor has smelled the sickness, seen our collective weariness... She has put us all at risk."

His upper lip flinches upwards as he spats, "Does this satisfy you? And... d-do you know why Bluefrost did this?" Cricketcry stands and back up a couple pawsteps, his ears lowering closer to skull as he mutters, "Just like you, Sootspot... Bluefrost feels an entitlement. May just be that Bluefrost believes she can bring a traitor into camp without punishment and that Sunstar must allow her... Awfully s-s-strange... all of you with the blood of Sootstar... believe the moors revolve around you, that the stars shine just for you."

His hackles stand on end as he retreats further away, inch by inch. "You disgust me."



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  • OOC—
  • CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan
    𓆧 he/him / 28 ☾
    𓆧 timid, cynical & wistful
    𓆧 has a slight limp
    𓆧 petite lh chocolate tabby/fawn chimera