− ♱ ABOUT : as he’d promised himself, he makes his return by the cold molten shades of dusk ; dripping palette of indigo and purple, the blushing pink of day drowning in it’s deep blues. the trek back had been made in silence, his curled pelt drying in the warm greenleaf air by the time the grassy soil gave way to soft mud, cicadas singing from their perch beyond the swaying treeline. it had been home for the longest time ; the smell of heady marshwater and swampland. it no longer felt like home. no longer brought with it the warmth that has boomed so long in his chest, ribcage overgrown with gardenia and honeysuckle. he’d not known the moment had descended from his former lands towards the fourtrees that he would only return to visit, to say his goodbyes. cicada still considered most of them family ; had been raised under the watchful eye of marshland elders and hare whiskers himself, grown with bone and briar and soot those else who had spent their early days in reverence of a place that had sustained life for them. the forest had given them the world, had raised them from kits. he could only hope to give as much thanks to the rivers as he had the marshes, now but a silent prayer to the starry felines above with each swift kill.
the smoke tortie nears the thunderpath tunnel, roaring monsters buzzing the hard grey dirt overhead and shaking the cement around him. a trout dangles heavily from his jaws, it’s blue - yellow scales catching occasionally in the flitting moonlight as he traverse the land, a phantom amidst the low fog of early night. he was here for a purpose — for the bicolored molly he’d seen turn and slink from the clearing after his announcement, her departure caught desperately from the corner of his eye because . . he couldn’t look. he couldn’t watch the hurt that could have crossed her features, avoided her citrus luminaries at all costs, like a coward. of the times he’d spent with her he’d never been unable to meet her eye, to level their fire and ice gazes throughout kithood, their apprenticeships, early warriorhood. there was no way he could leave like that, in silence, looking away to save his own heart from devastation. she deserved more, and the plump trout in his maw was but the beginning of his attempt to give her just that. if she still sought to speak to him, that is. his heart pangs at the mere thought and he struggles to keep the nerves from showing in his lithe form, tail coming to wrap gently around his hind ankle ; an old habit.
the tall felidae steps delicately into the tunnel, paws dipping into the thin layer of stagnant water at the bottom. it had been a while since he’d been here — their old playground, an oasis after a long day of training. somewhere they could have found eachother in youth, for better or for worse. his ears drift back, head lowering just slightly, “ i know you’re in here. “ the male calls gently into the shadows, speaking from the sides of his maw and blinking rapid against the darkness, the yellow warmth from the twolegs light overhead illuminating the cement round just slightly, painting grey in slight shades of dim, artificial gold, “ let me explain myself . . i brought a peace offering? “
− CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, leader of riverclan
− tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
− speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers
Her heart couldn't take it. She had left and vanished from the meeting as soon as she was able to do so. She didn't look over her shoulder because there was no one to look to. No one that could stop her hurt from taking over so she had fled into the territory, the only piece that now seemed like a trap. A small section to struggle in for all of eternity when they knew that it is hard to hunt here. But this Shadowclan as it were is doomed now and her sister did not even try to fight back to ask for something more agreeable. She just took it, laied down with her belly exposed and it truly bothers her more than anything else. They had fought for the right to hunt in this territory and to have food and now they would be forced to continue to be on the brink of starvation. Her eyes shut as she hunkers down in the tunnel underneath the thunderpath, body shaking with her small and quiet sobs. She's been crying for a while now but in the darkness where no one can see the cracks. She's been trying to stop but the tears flow freely in mourning of those that will leave and those that have betrayed the very group that took them in and housed them. She should be angry, and she wants to be but...she's exhausted.
It's all too much and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before shaking her head. Yet the sounds of something make her ears swivel and she quickly tries to wipe at her face before pausing as she looks at the dirty wet water that soaks her paws. A sigh tears from her in the dark and she rubs her head against her upper leg as best she can before she hears his voice. Cicada. That pain hits fresh anew and she swallows thickly before shifting to turn around to look at him fully. Those normally burning luminaries meeting his ice colored ones. A for a moment she stares at him and the trout that is in his muzzle and she thinks about what he said. He's left her, left them for that. For the fishes of the river and isolation mayhaps. She wants to be difficult, god, she wants to be troublesome and she narrows her eyes just slightly. "Did you not explain everything that you needed to when you decided to get up on that rock? What more can you say to me Cicada? I thought that we....I thought that you and I were good friends but you wouldn't even look at me. That mere fact speaks volumes of what you wanted." To leave her behind. To leave the colony.
"You can keep your fish. I can hunt for myself. I don't expect anything from you or anyone for that matter." A part of her mind wonders if he has been planning this. If circumstances just made things readily available and he pounced on the opportunity. It almost makes her feel sick and she wraps her tail around her body, hunching down.
− ♱ ABOUT : it’s difficult to disguise the flinch that crosses his bicolored expression ; the brief squinting of cold luminaries and flick back of orbital ears, and he knew he’d be the first to admit that he deserved the treatment regardless of his intentions. his time on the river had been pure solace, peace found amongst the gently lapping waves until the marshes called him home. the gritty reality of their situation sets in with the brambles, thicket lodging in his coat and knotting into dark curls and he finds that he had begun to dread the wetlands. his memory of home was not the land they’d been forced into ; his home was the forest. when he and hare whiskers gang ran free over the moors, through the pines. the river had been a mystery, something new but safe. surrounded by ever - rushing water, they were nearly untouchable. never mentioning the way water had slipped gentle over the aching slopes of his body after the war, how curls coil and loosen with the waves, sleeking his way through the river. beauty shone in shimmering ripples over their clan now, as if the stars themselves swam just beneath the crystal surface. like the creeper vine, they had split into five. former marshlanders had followed him, and a part of him knows he had hoped the bicolored woman would follow him.
he hopes, still.
orange luminaries slit open in the darkness, illuminating the molly's presence and cicada begins to make out her form against the shadows, the white or her chin and spine bold against the dimly lit tunnel, “ i wanted to tell you . . alone. to bring you to the riverside and tell you myself. “ he admits, taking a couple steps closer and placing the fish down to free his tongue. it's scales glisten in the warm light, blushing pink where his teeth had set in along its thin ribs, " i didn't have time. things were moving too fast, i just . . didn't want to see you hurt. i couldn't watch it, and perhaps that makes me a coward, " the man takes a breath, frigid luminaries finally drifting away from bone and towards the puddle - laden tunnel floor, " but with every inch of my being, i never meant to cause you harm. " his throat clicks on a hard swallow, the razorwire of tears beginning to shred at the back of his throat, tightening his esophagus around the words he speaks. a monster passes overhead and shakes the tunnel around minutely in the beat of silence that follows next, a dusting of dirt falling from the solid overhead structure and littering the ground in quiet crackling of gravel and pebble shards.
she continues and his heart drops a little further ; he lowers himself to a crouch, crawling a step or two closer to the molly and gazing up at her imploringly. she tucks herself into her tail and he deflates visibly, his maw dropping into a frown to match the furrowing of his upticked brow, “ please eat. i caught this for you only, and . . the river full of prey -- swimming with fish, overrun with vole and shrew. " he does his best to make it tempting, to nudge the trout forward with the silent nudging of his nose, " just a bite? "
− CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
− tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
− speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers
Maybe it is harder for her to accept his apology because of her own pain, remembering how she felt at the beginning of all of this and now seeing how the world will treat them. For generations she can see how the other groups will look upon Shadowclan and will call them killers, lacking the nuance of just what made them wish to go to war. The prey they needed to survive and no one will care. Shadowclan. She's surprised a little that she already has begun to call her home that and the bitterness eats at her inside. Her head lifts up as the monster passes and she listens to the rumbling that always tells of passing The ground shaking just slightly, pebbles and sand shifted and raining down upon them. His words make her listen and she wants to believe him. They have been through a lot together and she does not want to lose anyone else but it seems she needs to let go. "I wish....you wouldn't have done it. I wish it had been anyone else, anyone that didn't matter to me." It would have been so easy then to squish her feelings if it had been some insignificant nobody from the marshlands. Or better yet, some pompous kittypet way over their own head.
But no, fate decreed it to be someone she had always leaned on. Someone important in her life to tear a whole through her chest. If only he knew how she felt about him. If only she had the courage to say it to his face. "You wanted to take me to the riverside...." Take her there and let her know then but time moved them forward quickly and she takes in a deep breath as burning eyes slowly find the fish that is left there. He has brought this fish here only for her and the mere fact lets a small warmth in. A flicker of what might be some semblance of hope before she forces it away. He's not coming back. He's not coming back. He spins tales of the river to her, plenty of fish, shew and voles and her expression seems to crack. Tears rim her eyes again and she stares at him. Eat? Just a bite. "But what of the others? Shadowclanners, we shall have it worse now for we can not simply go where we need to to get food and you want me to eat this."
Stop being stubborn her mind says and she looks at the way he looks at her. Begging her just to take a singular bit of the fresh fish he has brought for her today. Slowly a singular paw of bright white edges forward and claws flex to sink into scaley flesh. She gently pulls it to herself with a measured sigh before shaking her head just slightly. "Okay, alright, I'll take a bite, if only to make you happy, Cica." How can she remain steadfast with those frosted eyes looking at her like that. Leaning down she sinks her teeth into the fish and pulls the flesh from thin bones. Chewing she almost makes a face but after a moment the taste grows on her and she is taking a second bite of it. She's never had a fish before, never tried to catch one and so this is a different experience.
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