[Ziera]

// @implimm | they're acting vicious out there - there's lots of demons out here

Unwelcome pawsteps reached Stormtalon’s ears before anything dared enter his line of vision—soft, dainty, barely there. Stars. Exasperation tasted like bitter herbs. The silence was bad enough, but in the tom’s opinion, pretenders ranked lower. How much would this stranger tolerate? Willing them to walk past him (and not fooled for a second it would work), the tabby stashed grey paws under his chest like one might protect an injured limb. His tail slowed to a cautious halt from its occasional swish back and forth, a stiffness overtaking his body that had nothing to do with evening chill.

But it wasn’t a stranger. Not Silvercloud wanting to hunt, nor Rowanmist enlisting his help to deal with a rogue pebble. No Wavebreak with her aggravating cheek appeared, Dawnwhisper or disenchanted Junipersong. Instead, green eyes met pools of serene blue, eerie to him in the pale light and Storm knew it was her. Twin outcast, another of Kestrelstar’s weapons. His unwitting partner in crime.

A tight, unflattering smile marred Plumstorm's pretty face at the sight of him, but Storm chose to focus in on the gentle accusation: ‘you’. It’s you I find. He didn’t understand the need of poetic language to say your existence repels me--always having preferred blunt concision himself--but perhaps that was just who she was: a melancholic tragedy. Romanticized by self-perception, gracing the earth with her regal, ethereal presence. Whether or not it was too steep a judgement Stormtalon had no idea; ever since that night with poison claws, Plumstorm’s motives were about as clear to him as fog.

Still. It surprised Stormtalon how fast his body relaxed. While her speckled fur eventually smoothed, that sour smile melting into resignation, Plumstorm’s disappointment remained and he was sucked into its gravity—oddly refreshed by the candidness there. If anyone in this damned clan saw him in all of his mistakes and contradictions it was her. There existed a twisted comfort in this knowledge.

For a moment he stared at her just questioning his own apathy. Maybe Stormtalon should be angry at the feline who drove a wedge between him and Iriskit, the cat who thrust his sins into the light of day for everyone to see, but no ire materialized. “And who,” Storm murmured, tone somber as the stillness around them, “were you hoping to find instead? Not like you have anyone left.” Did he know it for sure? No. For a moment he thought it might have been written in her eyes before they fell.