[silver.]

batpaw
he/him // 16 moons // shc apprentice
purrks: shadow fiend, burn baby burn

---

Enough of this act. It was too exhausting. When he's decided that he's had enough of trying to push the theatrics, his body physically deflates, fatigue settling in and forcing him to press against the soft moss of Midnightpaw's nest. If he wasn't still in awe at her presence he would have closed his eyes there and fallen asleep. But no, his gaze returns to her to watch closely. To make sense of her expression and her words.

All in all it made little sense to him. Did this mean that she cared for him, too? Perhaps as much as he cared for her? Sense tells him no, but his own yearning heart tells him otherwise. When he was riddled with that cursed injury from the falling balls of ice who else bothered to take him to see the healer? It was her. Of course it was her-- no one else in this damned clan cared enough about him to have taken such careful note of his health. Though his opinion shifts a bit when she mentions hating him. That wasn't true, right?

No, of course not. She would have responded differently to his return if she truly hated him. There would be yelling and hissing and spatting and he would be spending his night across the den away from her to stare longingly. Oh how he's missed the nest he set up next to hers. How he missed the nights he would lay awake to stare at her until she finally opened her eyes to meet his gaze with that twinge of annoyance that made him cackle. No she didn't hate him. He was impossible to hate, after all, and if she truly did despise him she did a poor job of showing it.

Next his mind wanders back to the pain he had endured. The twolegs had hurt him. They stuck him with sharp, long claws, cut off his fur, stitched him back together after cutting him open... If he had been awake for it he would have fought for his life but whatever magic they had cast upon him rendered him helpless. At their mercy, useless and numb. Even to this day he wonders what it was they did to him. It irritates him to no end to not know. No use in dwelling on it but he couldn't help it. The audacity of them...

"They stabbed me over and over." He begins the recounting of his tale, his suffering. As he speaks his eyes fall closed. "At some point they managed to force me to sleep. While at their mercy they cut my belly fur and removed my flesh."

Though he wasn't sure why they did what they did, he knew they they stole from him. Stole his fur, parts of his body... They stole his blood and who knows what else when he was sleeping. Why the twolegs would do such a thing boggles him. Perhaps they knew he was of special blood and wanted to experiment upon it? Use it to make powerful elixirs to strengthen their armies? It was exhausting to think about. At this point most of his fur had grown back but the loss of anatomy still bothered him. The healing cut left in it's wake bothered him. Ugh! Nothing made any sense! But at least Midnightpaw was here. That at least made sense.

"But I have triumphed and returned to you. Are you not grateful?" Eyes reopening he notices that she was... Crying? Head canting off to a side and eyes wide in confusion, he watches her closely, before brows furrow and he cannot help but scoff. "W-What's with the tears? You should be rejoicing! You should be happy! You... You should..."

Did he do something wrong? Say something wrong? He was speaking of his experience to rise above it but it seems as though Midpaw was too delicate to hear of such gruesome tales. Curse her-- he would have to push through exhaustion to once again tend to her needs. Rising from his comfortable position in the nest, he shuffles in close to her, eyes still wide and staring as he leans in close... To lick at her cheek. The salt of her tears sits on his tongue-- lingers there for what feels like an eternity. He dare not try it again, knowing how perverse to touch she was, but the attempt to soothe her aching was made.

"Dry your tears, Midpaw. There is no reason to cry. I have returned as I had vowed to the night they stole me away. I am of great strength-- they could not keep me forever. They will not have me again. I swear it. So no more sniveling! It makes you look pathetic."

The last sentence is accented with another sly grin, tail swinging to thwap her on the shoulder as if that alone would will her sadness away.

midpaw | @Omari