Post by Meow on Oct 31, 2018 4:02:18 GMT
Frostfall's breaths came out in puffs of smoky white as she slid through the undergrowth, the chill of the night slowly working its way into her pelt. Each pawstep held purpose as they carried her closer and closer to the open fields of MothClan. Only moons ago, Frostfall had made this same trip to tell Pigeonfang that she was done playing around with cats from other clans- that MistClan and her role were all that mattered to her anymore.
But... things had changed. After his mate died, he'd given in to anger and depression, and she knew that he was lonely. All he wanted was to see his kits, but their borders kept them apart. It was uncertain that his children would grow up thinking of him as their father figure and she knew that drove him crazy.
She was getting so tired of rules and borders. Screw her responsibilities- even if she'd never felt the same way, Pigeonfang had cared for her. If she'd been in the same situation, Frostfall knew he would have done the same for her.
As she approached the line of bushes that separated the lush forest of MistClan and fields of MothClan, a dark ginger pelt slipped out into the open.
"Pigeonfang," Frostfall greeted softly, lifting her head to touch her nose to his cheek as she caught up to him.
The tired-looking tom dipped his head in response. "Frostfall- how are my kits? Are they still doing well?" Pigeonfang's dark eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness as he settled down in the grass, his strikingly muscular figure towering above her own. "Are they being taken care of?"
"Yes. They're growing strong. Walking and talking already. Their personalities are starting to shine through." Frostfall settled down as well, curling her fluffy tail over her cold paws. "Petalkit and Maplekit are turning out to be little troublemakers."
"And Pumpkinkit?" Frostfall thought she saw Pigeonfang's eyes widen a bit as he asked about his son- the kit who looked most like Dawnpetal.
"He's... a good kid," Frostfall hummed gently, wondering how she should describe the lethargic kit. "Very... laid-back. I think he'll be a good balance to the other two when they're older." Frostfall felt her lips curl just a bit as Pigeonfang leaned closer with every word. She wouldn't have figured that Pigeonfang would be such a doting father. "Don't worry- you'll see them soon. Everything's calming down now that the war's over."
"I want to see them now."
"I know, Pigeonfang." Frostfall felt her smile fall just as soon as it began to take shape. "But you know Bearstar might not be eager to hand them over to you- especially with how much blood's been spilled recently." MistClan had lost many of its warriors in the battle against the tribe... it's not unlikely that Bearstar would decide the kits worth fighting for. "If you're reasonable and patient, she might listen to you."
"Haven't I already waited long enough? It's already been two moons, and I haven't seen them yet," Pigeonfang growled in response, tail twitching with frustration. "They're all I have left of Dawnpetal. They're mine. I'm not going to wait much longer."
"I'm sure Dawnpetal would want you to cause a scene trying to steal your kits back," Frostfall sighed, earning an intense glare from her agitated friend. Even in the darkness, she could see the flames flickering in his irises.
"She wanted them to be with MothClan, Frostfall. If I have to spill blood for that to ha-"
"Oh, shut up," Frostfall snapped, suddenly mirroring Pigeonfang's anger. "You are not going to hurt anyone over those kits. If you want any hope of them ever coming to MothClan, you're going to approach this matter civilly." The medicine cat's gaze was steel as she fixed her friend. "You're better than this."
Pigeonfang had risen to his paws, jaw clenching. His anger had slightly subsided with her scolding, though the light of rebellion remained in his gaze, challenging her authority. "Am I?"
"You are- if you want to stay a warrior." Frostfall forced herself to reel her temper back in, pushing herself up as well. "You're a dimwit, but you're one of the most fearsome warriors I know." Frostfall's gaze had softened with her insult. "I know Dawnpetal'd be proud of you if you kept your head held high and got your kits back honestly."
Pigeonfang didn't look like he knew whether to be insulted or flattered that she thought so highly of him. "...you just called me a dimwit."
Frostfall grinned. "You are." The pale she-cat hummed, taking a few steps closer to the tom. Then, she leaned her head against his chest, something she'd always done when they'd chatted the night away as apprentices. Frostfall didn't like his MothClan scent, but Pigeonfang was always warm- ridiculously warm, even. She almost envied whoever got to sleep next to him in the warrior's den. They'd definitely sleep well in leafbare. "You'll behave, won't you? Show those kits how a mature warrior handles things."
The air between them was silent for a moment as the tom's breath halted in his chest. Then, slowly, his tail slipped around her, just as warm as the rest of him. "...alright. I'll do this the right way," Pigeonfang murmured, tickling Frostfall's ear as his voice rumbled deep in his chest.
That's all she could ask of him- to prove to both their clans that he was a worthy father. She'd never know the pain of losing a mate, the despair that caused a cat to consider his life away just to gather the last remaining pieces of a she-cat he hadn't known for more than a few moons.
Frostfall felt a pang in her chest, unfamiliar and strange as she thought of the deceased MistClan queen. A sudden urge crept up within her as the two cats sat in silence, their coats pressed together. She could have left the conversation there, could have been satisfied with successfully changing how he handled the situation.
She wasn't.
"Did she remind you of me?"
Frostfall asked the question before she'd really pondered it, but, somehow, she didn't feel an ounce of regret for the sudden loaded question.
She felt Pigeonfang stiffen around her. For a moment, she thought she felt him draw in a breath, as if to say something- but he didn't respond. Frostfall didn't lift her head to take in his expression, though she knew what she would find there. Confusion. Anger. That fire in his eyes.
"She looked like me. Same eye color, same build. Long fur. Just different markings." Frostfall continued as the forest seemed to quiet around them, the very air seeming to press down on her back. "Were you trying to replace me?"
"Replace you." Pigeonfang's voice was cold and quiet, almost emotionless. "There was nothing to replace."
Still, Pigeonfang didn't move from their once relaxing, friendly embrace. Frostfall was playing with fire, a feeling she hadn't had since she was an apprentice. She knew it wasn't smart, but she wanted to keep poking it. Frostfall wanted more- to push his buttons as she had everyone else when she was younger. She wanted more- wanted to know more. To fulfill her curiosity. "You've loved me since you first met me. Said so yourself- that you wanted me to move to MothClan with you. To be your mate."
"...I don't like where this is going, Frostfall." Pigeonfang's voice was strained. He was holding back. A warning.
Frostfall lifted her head, her pretty green eyes meeting his hot amber. "Do you still love me?"
Pigeonfang was doing his best to keep a straight face, but she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Frostfall wondered what it must be like to love someone so dearly for so long without those feelings being reciprocated. He'd moved on, but he'd still glanced at her every now and then. He'd never been good at lying about his feelings. "I used to. When you were an apprentice. But I met Dawnpetal, and she- well, she loved me. Unlike you."
Frostfall had never known that kind of love, and she'd certainly never felt it towards him. But she didn't like that she'd been replaced. Pigeonfang was doing his best to hide his feelings, the feelings he'd harbored even when mated to Dawnpetal.
"You still love me." Frostfall's cheek brushed against Pigeonfang's as she breathed the words out, a thrill spiking through her pelt at her rebellious actions. This was so, so wrong. "I will never be anyone's mate, you know. I'm a medicine cat." Frostfall slipped her tail into Pigeonfang's, his heartbeat growing ever faster. "...I won't be your mate. But I can comfort you- just for tonight."
Pigeonfang's expression spoke of disgust as his kittybrows lifted in utter bewilderment. Frostfall saw the fear in his eyes, though, and she knew she had him. He wanted to deny her, to tell her that it was too soon, but nothing was coming out.
"Just for tonight," Frostfall whispered, closing her eyes as she touched noses with him.
Pigeonfang's breathing was as erratic as his heartbeat. "...I-..." Pigeonfang's objections died on his lips when her nose touched his. He'd always do whatever she asked.
"...just for tonight," Pigeonfang agreed shakily, his whisper barely audible above the wind that shook the trees and ruffled their pelts as they drew closer.
But... things had changed. After his mate died, he'd given in to anger and depression, and she knew that he was lonely. All he wanted was to see his kits, but their borders kept them apart. It was uncertain that his children would grow up thinking of him as their father figure and she knew that drove him crazy.
She was getting so tired of rules and borders. Screw her responsibilities- even if she'd never felt the same way, Pigeonfang had cared for her. If she'd been in the same situation, Frostfall knew he would have done the same for her.
As she approached the line of bushes that separated the lush forest of MistClan and fields of MothClan, a dark ginger pelt slipped out into the open.
"Pigeonfang," Frostfall greeted softly, lifting her head to touch her nose to his cheek as she caught up to him.
The tired-looking tom dipped his head in response. "Frostfall- how are my kits? Are they still doing well?" Pigeonfang's dark eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness as he settled down in the grass, his strikingly muscular figure towering above her own. "Are they being taken care of?"
"Yes. They're growing strong. Walking and talking already. Their personalities are starting to shine through." Frostfall settled down as well, curling her fluffy tail over her cold paws. "Petalkit and Maplekit are turning out to be little troublemakers."
"And Pumpkinkit?" Frostfall thought she saw Pigeonfang's eyes widen a bit as he asked about his son- the kit who looked most like Dawnpetal.
"He's... a good kid," Frostfall hummed gently, wondering how she should describe the lethargic kit. "Very... laid-back. I think he'll be a good balance to the other two when they're older." Frostfall felt her lips curl just a bit as Pigeonfang leaned closer with every word. She wouldn't have figured that Pigeonfang would be such a doting father. "Don't worry- you'll see them soon. Everything's calming down now that the war's over."
"I want to see them now."
"I know, Pigeonfang." Frostfall felt her smile fall just as soon as it began to take shape. "But you know Bearstar might not be eager to hand them over to you- especially with how much blood's been spilled recently." MistClan had lost many of its warriors in the battle against the tribe... it's not unlikely that Bearstar would decide the kits worth fighting for. "If you're reasonable and patient, she might listen to you."
"Haven't I already waited long enough? It's already been two moons, and I haven't seen them yet," Pigeonfang growled in response, tail twitching with frustration. "They're all I have left of Dawnpetal. They're mine. I'm not going to wait much longer."
"I'm sure Dawnpetal would want you to cause a scene trying to steal your kits back," Frostfall sighed, earning an intense glare from her agitated friend. Even in the darkness, she could see the flames flickering in his irises.
"She wanted them to be with MothClan, Frostfall. If I have to spill blood for that to ha-"
"Oh, shut up," Frostfall snapped, suddenly mirroring Pigeonfang's anger. "You are not going to hurt anyone over those kits. If you want any hope of them ever coming to MothClan, you're going to approach this matter civilly." The medicine cat's gaze was steel as she fixed her friend. "You're better than this."
Pigeonfang had risen to his paws, jaw clenching. His anger had slightly subsided with her scolding, though the light of rebellion remained in his gaze, challenging her authority. "Am I?"
"You are- if you want to stay a warrior." Frostfall forced herself to reel her temper back in, pushing herself up as well. "You're a dimwit, but you're one of the most fearsome warriors I know." Frostfall's gaze had softened with her insult. "I know Dawnpetal'd be proud of you if you kept your head held high and got your kits back honestly."
Pigeonfang didn't look like he knew whether to be insulted or flattered that she thought so highly of him. "...you just called me a dimwit."
Frostfall grinned. "You are." The pale she-cat hummed, taking a few steps closer to the tom. Then, she leaned her head against his chest, something she'd always done when they'd chatted the night away as apprentices. Frostfall didn't like his MothClan scent, but Pigeonfang was always warm- ridiculously warm, even. She almost envied whoever got to sleep next to him in the warrior's den. They'd definitely sleep well in leafbare. "You'll behave, won't you? Show those kits how a mature warrior handles things."
The air between them was silent for a moment as the tom's breath halted in his chest. Then, slowly, his tail slipped around her, just as warm as the rest of him. "...alright. I'll do this the right way," Pigeonfang murmured, tickling Frostfall's ear as his voice rumbled deep in his chest.
That's all she could ask of him- to prove to both their clans that he was a worthy father. She'd never know the pain of losing a mate, the despair that caused a cat to consider his life away just to gather the last remaining pieces of a she-cat he hadn't known for more than a few moons.
Frostfall felt a pang in her chest, unfamiliar and strange as she thought of the deceased MistClan queen. A sudden urge crept up within her as the two cats sat in silence, their coats pressed together. She could have left the conversation there, could have been satisfied with successfully changing how he handled the situation.
She wasn't.
"Did she remind you of me?"
Frostfall asked the question before she'd really pondered it, but, somehow, she didn't feel an ounce of regret for the sudden loaded question.
She felt Pigeonfang stiffen around her. For a moment, she thought she felt him draw in a breath, as if to say something- but he didn't respond. Frostfall didn't lift her head to take in his expression, though she knew what she would find there. Confusion. Anger. That fire in his eyes.
"She looked like me. Same eye color, same build. Long fur. Just different markings." Frostfall continued as the forest seemed to quiet around them, the very air seeming to press down on her back. "Were you trying to replace me?"
"Replace you." Pigeonfang's voice was cold and quiet, almost emotionless. "There was nothing to replace."
Still, Pigeonfang didn't move from their once relaxing, friendly embrace. Frostfall was playing with fire, a feeling she hadn't had since she was an apprentice. She knew it wasn't smart, but she wanted to keep poking it. Frostfall wanted more- to push his buttons as she had everyone else when she was younger. She wanted more- wanted to know more. To fulfill her curiosity. "You've loved me since you first met me. Said so yourself- that you wanted me to move to MothClan with you. To be your mate."
"...I don't like where this is going, Frostfall." Pigeonfang's voice was strained. He was holding back. A warning.
Frostfall lifted her head, her pretty green eyes meeting his hot amber. "Do you still love me?"
Pigeonfang was doing his best to keep a straight face, but she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Frostfall wondered what it must be like to love someone so dearly for so long without those feelings being reciprocated. He'd moved on, but he'd still glanced at her every now and then. He'd never been good at lying about his feelings. "I used to. When you were an apprentice. But I met Dawnpetal, and she- well, she loved me. Unlike you."
Frostfall had never known that kind of love, and she'd certainly never felt it towards him. But she didn't like that she'd been replaced. Pigeonfang was doing his best to hide his feelings, the feelings he'd harbored even when mated to Dawnpetal.
"You still love me." Frostfall's cheek brushed against Pigeonfang's as she breathed the words out, a thrill spiking through her pelt at her rebellious actions. This was so, so wrong. "I will never be anyone's mate, you know. I'm a medicine cat." Frostfall slipped her tail into Pigeonfang's, his heartbeat growing ever faster. "...I won't be your mate. But I can comfort you- just for tonight."
Pigeonfang's expression spoke of disgust as his kittybrows lifted in utter bewilderment. Frostfall saw the fear in his eyes, though, and she knew she had him. He wanted to deny her, to tell her that it was too soon, but nothing was coming out.
"Just for tonight," Frostfall whispered, closing her eyes as she touched noses with him.
Pigeonfang's breathing was as erratic as his heartbeat. "...I-..." Pigeonfang's objections died on his lips when her nose touched his. He'd always do whatever she asked.
"...just for tonight," Pigeonfang agreed shakily, his whisper barely audible above the wind that shook the trees and ruffled their pelts as they drew closer.