camp WRITING ON THE WALL 𓆩♡𓆪 WALLOWING

[DAWNGLARE]

It's been some time, now... Some time since the pair stood before the clan and in no uncertain terms, declared themselves together. Dramatized is what it was, really... What tenderness is to be found in such a spectacle? Something quieter — an embrace beneath a swollen moon, perhaps, ought to set a better scene. Not to mention, it would be all the more courteous to any onlookers, in the way that there would preferably be none. ( Then again... he supposed life would be much too simple if everyone were to share his sensibilities... ) It hadn't been difficult for him to banish it from his memory, no. A mental scoring of bark had been made, denoting that Silversmoke is in fact, in SkyClan once again, and he had moved on...

It rushed to him suddenly, just who it was bound to his hip, and that he had done so willingly, no less. Whatever scrap of power Johnnyflame ought to hold as birth - given right, he relinquishes time and time again... Dawnglare needs not the whisperings of Mother to make out the tinting of his soul, darker, yet darker... Standing at Blazestar's side had only been the beginning. Oh, the humility, the modesty, and then, to practically grovel at Silversmoke's feet. The thought brings this dreadful lurch to Dawnglare's stomach...

The news is saddening. So much so that Dawnglare can only possibly cope by lying motionless to himself... Wherever he does it doesnt matter ( Not his den, though. Anywhere but there. ). A heavy sigh racks him. Moments later, so does another. And a little while longer, another... At some point, there's the chittering of a lark in his ear, posing him the question of what. Of why. Something terrible has happened, and Dawnglare is the one keen to such a fact. So is the way of this rotten life of his. Even with Her silence, the weight of it all is enough to crush bone to dust.

" Oh, " he bemoans. In the first movement he's made in some time now, spotless paws stretch out from where he lays miserable on his side. " H-have none of you realized? Do none of you see the- the crumbling of your own... infrastructure? " Dawnglare rolls over, and he would regard the ignorant one with woeful eyes. " Johnnyflame, " he chokes out. " Is it such a struggle? To- to percieve one's own worth? Why, he leapt straight into the wolf's mouth. Called it- hm- love... " A mistake of uncalculable magnitude...

OOC: TL;DR local drama queen is flopped in the middle of camp and sighing loudly because Silverjohnny is NOT his pairing... Tagging @SILVERSMOKE & @Johnnyflame but no need to wait; feel free to be who he's talking to 8)

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[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom had been recycling a recent memory as of late. Silversmoke sparring in the sandy hollow, with he and Johnnyflame spectating from the sides. He remembers the way Johnnyflame stared at the stern warrior, the praise he lavished on the other coupled with the look in his eyes; it had put a worm in the whelp’s stomach, and he couldn’t explain why. A writhing thing, shame mixed with not-quite-jealousy and almost-anger, horrible and undefinable at the same time.

The Scottish Fold had been trying to smother the feeling in his stomach with food. Gnawing on squirrel and hoping to dull these unwanted and unknown feelings when Dawnglare decided to shove them back to the forefront.

Even though he’d asked what was wrong, Chickbloom was silent for a long moment after the medicine cat’s explanation. Part of it was annoyance - the fly on the wall had no desire to talk with the drama queen on the best of days - but it was also the other’s choice of words. Dawnglare had a tendency to speak in riddles, so the milksop always had to spend some time deciphering what he meant.

Throwing out that he had no idea what ‘infrastructure’ meant (and no desire to ask after its definition lest he be mocked), Chickbloom thought he understood, and it only reopened the hole in his stomach. The spineless whelp almost flashed an inadvertent scowl, but he tried to keep those emotions in check. Maybe talking about it would help him understand what he was feeling?

“Wolf? Y-You’re…you’re t-talking about silversm-smoke, right?” Chickbloom shrugged, trying to act casual. “I think they’re a - y’know - c-cute couple…o-opposites attract, right? Though it’s w-weird - I guess - seeing Silversmoke all - all s-soft and stuff…”​

 

[BEECHDAPPLE]

dawnglare is and will always will be a mystery to beechdapple despite knowing him for many seasons now, if you ever ask her to repeat something he's said she will just give you a look and an unsure shrug of shoulders because the way he speaks is so. . .fancy and cryptic like every sentence is weaved like some sort of a riddle that must be answered in a specific way in a certain time-frame or else you end up banned from ever being in his presence until said otherwise. if you're really unlucky, your very existance alone is enough to be a reason.

beechdapple wants to believe she's become a bit more well-versed in understanding how their medicine cat works until she finds herself stumbling across the sepia wallowing to chickbloom about. . .something. her expression shifts to puzzlement, barely able to piece to together from the conversation at hand that the topic is centered around johnnyflame and silversmoke? "is that what all this fuss is about?" the senior warrior questions, brow raising as her gaze flits from the yolk-patched tom to dawnglare.

˚｡⋆୨ IF YOU HAVE LOST THE RIGHT TRACK ⋆ ☀︎ ⋆ THEN ILL LEAD YOU RIGHT BACK ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

• ooc.
  
• 
• BEECHDAPPLE —— senior warrior of skyclan , mentoring none.
  🞴 cis female / she | her / ages every 6th
  🞴 a large, long-haired calico w/ high white displaying heterochromia and a noticeable underbite.
  🞴 single / pansexual polyamorous / open to puppy-crushes, crushes, romance.
  🞴 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  🞴 “speech”, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  
  🞴 penned by cobatic
  🞴 biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[MALLOWLARK]

"Opposites attract ... I've heard tha-hah-hat before! It's a good one..." Mallowlark teetered over, grin splitting his skull in two. Dog-bright fangs gleamed in the daylight. At first, he'd only wandered so close because he'd wanted to know what all the fuss was about ... Dawnglare often drew crowds (it'd be a crime), but who would he be to get bored of it? Interest, as ever, sparked in wide eyes of silver - moon-pale monochromesettled beside Beechdapple. Slit-pupils slipped to her ...

"I saw 'em falling all over each other moons ago ... I'm relieved, honestly ... It was t-torture, I thought their eyes would turn to goo..." he flopped at Dawnglare's side, then ... comfortable, fitting there. Wide eyes blinked, adoring- with a rasp of his tongue, he attempted to cleanse his mate of this concern. No use worrying, wallowing, really... if they were meant to last, maybe the wolf's teeth had shattered. Or maybe it'd rip at Johnnyflame when he least expected it, and they'd both be split into ribbons, as would that union...

He laughed behind the fortress of grinning fangs. "Not everyone gets a ghost do they?" he murmured to Dawnglare. Yes, they were lucky... "Sometimes you gotta settle for a wolf."​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[Johnnyflame]

MY WORLDS ON FIRE, HOW 'BOUT YOURS?
THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT AND I NEVER GET BORED."​

---

Well.. This was a surprise.

The tom made his way over as Dawnglare, of all cats, began voicing their apparent upset over his choice in mate. It was almost nice to see them being the confused one for once after all the confusing dialogue spoken between them in the past, though Johnny wasn’t all that sure he appreciated the topic they’d chosen this time.

”I didn’t think you were particularly invested in my love-life, Dawnglare. A part of me’s flattered you care so much.” But only a part- the other part was poised to verbally (and perhaps physically) box the ears of any cat who spoke true ill of his mate. Silversmoke’s attitude may have been absolute shit at times, but he’d given too much to the clan for any of them to get away with being cruel to him. If Johnny had any bias toward him for being head-over-heels in love with the guy, that was his Starclan given right as their mate.

And so the bobtail wore a guarded expression as he neared, the conversation of ‘worth’ and ‘wolves’ rubbing him the wrong way.

Silversmoke was not a threat or a mistake. And he was most certainly worthy of love, Johnnys or otherwise.

”And I know my value quite well, thank you.” he added with a tight-lipped smile. ”Silversmokes, too. Starclan could turn him into a literal wolf, and I still wouldn’t fear his teeth. I’d fight every cat and wolf that came near him to keep him mine.” Fearless. Stupid. Reckless. Whatever you wanted to call him, it wouldn’t change the unwavering confidence he spoke those words with. ”I imagine you feel similarly about your ‘ghost’, aye?” he reasoned with a quirk of his brow, a silent challenge.

---

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[Oleanderkit]

Oleander has been pushing her boundaries with Dawnglare as of late. He has invited the vampire into his home, as it were; she is an invariable leech of knowledge, eager to sink her fangs into whatever thing can provide her brain the delicious ichor it craves. For a cat that carries himself with such dignity, it is quite the odd sight to see him wallowing in the middle of camp — but maybe it isn't. He is a flamboyant type, she thinks, though she only half-knows the meaning of the word. Maybe it would be easier to say there is no other cat quite like him in SkyClan, or the rest of the world, for that matter.

Oleander lounges outside the nursery, content to groom through her long cheek fur as she eavesdrops, similarly content not to make her eavesdropping a secret. The older cats chitter about something she herself has great interest in: love. What a thing! She doesn't understand it, not fully. She loves her mother and her siblings, but that is a different sort of love than the kind between Dawnglare and Mallowlark, and that is a different sort of love than the kind between just friends. And then there are all the ways that love can be lost. SkyClan lost some love the day Violetnose died. Lovage had lost some love the day Laurel had been put against the wall. But apparently, you can lose love without even dying. It's all very confusing.

So she perks her ears as the discussion winds on; as she discovers there is a cat like Dawnglare but different in Mallowlark. Her glacial gaze slides between them all. Dawnglare, Chickbloom, Beechdapple, Mallowlark... all prattling about love and Silversmoke and Johnnyflame. She doesn't know what makes Silversmoke a wolf. He's quite kind to Budkit, and she appreciates that about him; he is perhaps on the sterner side of SkyClan's scale, but she finds she appreciates strictness from time to time (except, of course, when it inhibits her instead of someone else). Thoughtfully, an ear twitches, and soon Johnnyflame himself is on the scene. Oleanderkit leans forward with anticipation.

It's an interesting spar between them. As Johnnyflame defends his mate, she feels the gears turning; feels the passion with which he defends Silversmoke rise in her own chest, a kittenish imitation. She is still missing a key piece of this puzzle; still lacks an understanding of love in true, but she is glad to have some pieces click into place.

"But how did you know you were in love?" the kitten prompts, glacial gaze flitting between both couples, as she would be eager to hear from either of them. "Does it make your blood different? Does it grow a flower in your chest? How do you know?" Without that certainty, how could Johnnyflame ever fight wolves and cats for Silversmoke's sake? "Can you be in love with stuff that isn't ghosts or wolves? I'd prefer a cat."

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 04 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[DAWNGLARE]

Obviously, Silversmoke. As obvious as the mark of love between his eyes. As obvious as him being mahogany-white-and-blue . As obviously as he was finely groomed and delicately faced. Oh, if any of that changed, it would all be by the fault of Chickbloom. Cute, he calls it. Cute. " Repulsive is what it is, " he grouses. Almost sympathetically, he adds with words that sounded as if dredged through mud. " Thinking is not for everyone. " If he wanted anyone to think, Chickbloom was perhaps the furthest from his list. He could stand beside a bees nest and it'd yield the same results, he is certain.

A wandering soul, oh, Beechdapple comes and remarks, Is that what all this fuss is about? " Well, yes, " he answers rather seriously. The confusion that tinges his voice is made from just how foolhardy of a question it is. What else was there to fuss about, ignoring imminent heat-death, anyhow...

Oh, white-painted savior. Pawsteps in a lopsided, frolicking two-step. He hears that — and the chittering, of course, before he lays eyes on anything at all. Alas, despair encompasses all... No, he cannot even spare the lift of his head, crime that it is... but Mallowlark would come to him, wouldn't he? He does, chattering prophetic about the fated pair. He thinks himself lucky to not have seen him... he thinks himself a waste; that perhaps, he could've done something if only he had seen; and oh... that is no way for him to think. He wracks his skull, reminds himself that there is nothing he could have possibly done. That these wildcats forsake themselves no matter what he does, what he says...

The lave of a tongue staves off any insecurity ( — insecurity; such a word belonged nowhere near him... ) Dawnglare heaves another sigh, though its sorrow is wiped away in part due to love. Dawnglare tilts his head towards him. He hums, self-indulgent for just a moment... " I wish that they would've, " he pouts. " Or would they stay wandering, eyeless corpses thereafter...? " A tragedy, both realities... Not everyone gets a ghost, do they? Half-hum and half-whine. " Is that so...? " lain with a glaze of fondness. Still, " How sad... " He supposes no one could ever hope to find what the two of them had...

Who wanders over next, but one of the subjects of his sadness. Would he apologize, as he ought to? Declare it all a joke of unconventional nature? I didn’t think you were particularly invested in my love-life, Dawnglare. Instinctually, within the heap that is him and Mallowlark, he says. "I'm not. " No. He's invested in his reputation.

And I know my value quite well, thank you. Dawnglare sneezes loudly. Mallowlark ought to know how deeply this spells Johnnyflame's mistruth. Oh, Fair Lady below, he fears he's falling ill, listening to this nonsense... Dawnglare is quite unimpressed by the point of comparison. " I assure you, absolutely nothing is fighting you for him. " Even a mongrel would likely gag at the first taste of toxic blood. The issue with what he said was the intrinsic value of their respective prospects... Nothing alive would take Silversmoke from him. Would he believe that the sun itself wanted Mallowlark's head? Likely not... He leans his head; nudges that of Mallowlark. " This one's danger is of another plane, " he coos. Oh, the war he wages...

Poor Oleanderkit, she need not have her ears poisoned so completely... It makes a good thing that he is here to dispel these things... A holy influence, him. " Yes, it does. Yes, " a little woozily, he answers. There's the seedling of a giddy answer... but Johnnyflame's presence pulls it up at the root. Awfully close she was, though. Clever. " But oh, I don't believe Johnnyflame knew... He thought love meant burrs in his pelt, instead. You should pray for him, dear. " He easily speaks as if he is not present. He sighs... his mates presence has sanded the edges of despair. " Cats are not so exciting, but you can, of course. "​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

His gait was awkward as he approached, as if anticipating to join a (semi-)normal conversation about why Dawnglare had collapsed on the camp floor. Tufted ears hadn't expected to pick up on his name. They're talking about him. They're all talking about him. His ears warmed at the realisation before his gaze settled onto Dawnglare. The medicine cat prattled on even when everyone else had stopped, wordlessly, the silver tom settled by his mate's side. Danger. Burrs. Repulsive. The awkward blues and greens burned like venom towards the perpetrator. His claws unsheathed, tapping against the camp's earth as the enemy of gossip now found himself a victim of it.

He could've shrugged it off in most circumstances, but it was different when it came from the Medicine Cat, more personal. Every insult against him implicated Johnnyflame, accusations of the Daylight Warrior having poor judgement and being inexperienced in love felt just as nasty to him. The tortoiseshell could defend himself, but then Dawnglare gave advice to a kitten and whatever muted tolerance he held for this burned to ash. "You don't love a ghost, you loved a WindClanner, and betrayed StarClan and Blazestar's trust in you in the process. Have you even apologised to his spirit? Or has your entitlement clouded whatever faint pulse of morality still beats in that rancid little heart of yours?" He wondered if the only heart Dawnglare had was the one between his eyes, a charlatan's attempt at reminding them all that he was somehow good.

His tail lashed with each new syllable as if it were fanning a flame. Dawnglare had no room to criticise love, not after everything he'd done. The injustice of it all was almost painful, that someone could just be consequence-free because of who they were friends with. Insults were hardly adequate or professional, but when he lacked the permission to rip Dawnglare from his rank, they were all he had. "You cling to the medicine cat den like a dingleberry. If being a wolf means being the opposite of you, codebreaker, then I'll start practicing my howl. Maybe if I do it loud enough, I won't have to hear you gossiping about me like a child."

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