burn out or fade away [p]

[ameko]

Scuttering in the undergrowth marked the telltale signs of prey. Bunching their haunches, they leapt with the skill of one who’d had years of practice, landing on and silencing their target within seconds. It wasn’t even something to be proud of anymore—just another day by their lonesome. Their cream-furred head dipped down briefly as they whispered something inaudible, then they scooped up the mouse and padded off, further in the forest that had become something of a home to them.

It had been years since they’d shared a nest with another, and even longer since it had been with family. But they didn’t long for it anymore—not like they had in the first few moons since leaving. No, in fact they had grown quite comfortable with solitude. It was relaxing. Maybe this was what they’d always needed.

A muscle in their leg ached, sending stinging pains up their body, and they paused to take a deep breath. This was new. Age wasn’t something they kept track of, but their body always liked to remind them of just how long they’d lived. Sometimes they felt like it’d been too long.

And then other days—days like today—it felt as if they’d hardly lived at all. Like there was still so much to do, so much to be seen. Their mind drifted to that day they’d woken up, dazed, on the border between Clans. Back then, StarClan had seen it fit to give them a second chance. And what had they done with this second life of theirs?

They settled down in a grassy area to eat their prey. Once, these familiar thoughts of theirs had been accompanied with frustration, with a burning in their chest and an ache in their very soul. Now, though, a flick of their ears was all the acknowledgement they gave.

Their eyes lingered on a patch of fennel nearby, before they sighed and drew their gaze to the sky.

It was quiet. And they were at peace.

[ameko]

1. A Burning Memory

Most cats they encountered in the Outskirts, they avoided. Wasn’t worth the hassle. Either they wanted to pick a fight, didn’t want anything to do with them, or they wanted to be friends and later ended up disappearing. None of it was worth it. So they stuck to themselves, melding into the shadows when the scent of another drifted towards them.

Today, though, they happened upon a real sorry-looking cat staring up at a tree. They ducked behind a bush and watched as the stranger crouched down, wiggled their rear and made a downright pitiful attempt at leaping for a bird on one of the branches. Oh, wow. They’d seen bad hunting forms back in their day, but that was just something else. The cream-furred loner bit back a chuckle as the stranger stamped her paws in frustration.

It wouldn’t hurt to help out, just this once. Making sure to announce their presence with loud pawsteps, they padded up to the other and inclined their head. “Let me get something for you,” they offered.

The little cat jumped, whirling around to face the cream tabby. “Oh! Did you see that? That was–uh, I’m usually really good at hunting, I just, uh…” she trailed off, looking down.

They followed her gaze and blinked in recognition. They hadn’t noticed it from afar, but up close they could see her round, swollen belly. Their expression softened. “Just give me a moment, I’ll be right back.”

It only took a couple minutes for them to return with the tails of two mice dangling in their jaws. The stranger looked up from where she had been resting and smiled sheepishly. “Oh, you didn’t have to do all that!” Despite her words, she stared intently at the mice, as if they might disappear should she look away. “Thank you, though.”

They set the mice down at her paws and moved to sit a little ways away from her. “I ate earlier, so you can have both of them.”

“Are you sure?”

They said nothing in response, only nodding. The little stranger wasted no time in ducking down to happily munch away. In between bites, she meowed, “I’m Marmalade, by the way.”

“Fennel.” They used to hesitate when thinking about what to call themself, the timeless dilemma of whether or not to keep that suffix they’d been given. But it’d been many moons since they’d set foot in the Clans, and now this simple name came easily.

“Marmalade’s an odd name,” they mentioned after she’d finished eating.

Marmalade laughed at that. “Aren’t all names kind of weird? Like, your name’s weird too!”

Despite everything, a small smile grew on Fennel’s face. “Yeah, but fennel is a kind of plant. What’s a marmalade?”

“Fennel’s a plant?”

At that, Fennel couldn’t help but chuckle. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I don’t think about that kinda stuff! I’m not a plant expert.”

Fennel smiled, but as they thought of something to say their expression grew somber. All they knew about plants was taught to them as they grew up in ThunderClan.

Marmalade poked idly at the mice remains, waiting for a response. When she didn’t get one, she continued on as if there hadn’t been a near-uncomfortable silence. “Well, I’ve got no clue what a marmalade is either. Maybe it’s a housefolk thing.”

“Maybe.”

-

Later that afternoon, after they’d exchanged pleasantries and small talk, Fennel asked what’d been on their mind since they first saw her. With an uncharacteristic gentleness, they asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, is the father around?”

Marmalade blinked, glanced down at her own swollen belly as if to confirm it was still there, then smiled broadly up at Fennel. “Yes! He’s off with the wind cats right now, but he said he’ll leave them to come live with me and our kits.”

The father was a WindClanner? Their tail twitched, and they wrapped it tightly around their paws. “Really?” They hesitated a moment before continuing, “Clan—er, wind cats—are very loyal to each other, so are you sure he’s telling—”

“He’s telling the truth!” she hissed, ears flattening. The fur on her neck spiked up and only after she took a deep breath was she able to relax. Quietly, she added, “He promised.”

They didn’t believe that, not for a second. But instead of pushing the issue, they dipped their head and said, “Okay.” Marmalade was so young, so naive (just like they were), but they knew that nothing they said now would change anything. It wasn’t their place.

Marmalade cleared her throat, shuffling her paws. “Sorry, uh, didn’t mean to yell. He just. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

Fennel nodded. “I get it. You know him a lot better than I do.”

-

The two parted ways not longer after that. An amicable departure, but still stained with the remnants of that last conversation.

Fennel walked among the trees they called home, pawsteps near silent in the undergrowth. Though they tried not to linger on the notion, they couldn’t help comparing Marmalade to their own, younger self. To the self that had been entranced by a confident young tom who’d promised them the world. Who’d ended up treating them like dirt when he realized they couldn’t meet his expectations. They sighed, staring ahead. Those memories almost never resurfaced nowadays. Unpleasantness aside, it had been a lifetime ago. Still, their heart ached—not for their own life, but for the life that Fennel could see was unfolding before Marmalade.

But there was nothing they could do about it.

[ameko]

2. We Don’t Have Many Days

It was a late, quiet evening when they’d heard it. Pawsteps nearby, heavy and uneven. Fennel opened an eye and peered out at the undergrowth, at the dense trees and bushes surrounding them. The lumbering steps sounded… familiar?

“Oh, Fenn!”

Ah, it was Marmalade. Of course—who else would be tramping through the woods like that? Yawning, they raised themselves into a sitting position. The impromptu nickname was unexpected, but they supposed it wasn’t too bad. “Marmalade,” they responded simply. After a moment of staring, eyes still bleary with sleep, they added, “What are you doing ‘round here?”

“Just going for a walk! This forest is pretty nice. I usually just hang out near the edge of it, where all those flowers are, but I don’t go into the forest itself. Too many trees for me. Trees are kinda scary, ya know? So tall, and you never know what could be up in those branches.” At that, she looked up and squinted at the branches above.

What an odd one, they thought. They couldn’t help laughing at this peculiar little cat.

“Hey, it’s not funny!” protested Marmalade, but still she smiled over at them.

Between chuckles, they replied, “You gotta admit it’s a little funny. Scared of trees, of all things?” Maybe they were just vulnerable with sleep, or maybe that was just a dumb excuse, but they suddenly felt a rush of warmth and affection for her. Even though they’d just met only a few days ago, she seemed so familiar. Fenn leaned forward in a deep stretch, adding, “Are you hungry? I was gonna go get something for myself.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine! Brackenheart visited earlier—oh, he’s my partner—and we ate together.”

Their mood soured at the mere mention of the father. “Right.”

The cream-furred loner took a moment to take in the sight of Marmalade. There was a gauntness to her face that concerned them, a hollowness beneath her eyes. Despite what she said, she didn’t look like she was eating nearly enough. But they wouldn’t press the issue—it wasn’t their business. Instead, they said, “Well, you mind if I join you on your walk?”

Marmalade brightened even more, if that was possible. “Not at all!”

The two of them padded amongst the undergrowth, and it wasn’t long before Marmalade spoke up. “I’m glad I found you, by the way. I, uh,” she hesitated, “I wanted to apologize for getting a little bit uppity the other day. It wasn’t—”

“It’s fine, really,” Fenn cut in.

“...yeah.”

They walked together in silence for a little while after that, though it was a comfortable sort of quiet. Fenn lived in the stillness of the air, and Marmalade never seemed to be bothered by lulls in between conversations. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t need to fill the silence.

They had walked for a while before Marmalade spoke up again. “I asked him about it again today. He said he would.” A beat, and then she added, “Come live with me, I mean.”

In the interest of not stirring anything up, they gave a placid reply of, “That’s good.”

A small smile rose on Marmalade’s face, and she glanced over at Fenn briefly before turning her gaze back to the forest ahead of them. The rest of the walk, the two of them chatted idly about Marmalade’s plans for the future, for her expected family, and all the while Fenn did their best to stay as neutral as they could be.

It was a little while longer when her steps began to lag behind. Fenn slowed to keep pace, looking over to check on the pregnant molly. When had she started looking so tired?

“We’ve been walking a while, you wanna head home now?” they asked, pausing in their tracks.

Marmalade gave a relieved sort of smile and stopped beside them. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m getting a little tired.” She glanced up at the orange sky, partially covered by the canopy of trees. “Oh, when’d it get so late?”

“What, you didn’t notice? Come on, let’s get back before it gets too dark.” Flicking their tail on Marmalade’s shoulder, they set off at an easy pace back the way they’d came. A quiet purr rumbling from her, Marmalade padded after.

By the time they’d made it back to the place Marmalade called home, the sun had sunk below the horizon. Fenn gave a nod of appreciation as they looked around the clearing. It was right on the edge of the forest, but mostly surrounded by bushes and tall grass. Even if it wasn’t under the safety of the treetops, it was still hidden quite well. A patch of flowers caught their eye, little yellow dandelions, red flowers, and some blue ones they hadn’t seen before. “I like those blue flowers,” they mentioned. “They’re quite pretty.”

“I like those too! Don’t suppose you know the name of ‘em, since you’re a plant expert and all?” Marmalade meowed, leaning over to Fenn with a cheeky grin.

Fenn snorted and pushed her away with a paw. “Never been good with flowers, nope. I just like them.”

The two of them settled down in the clearing. Fenn made sure not to step on any of the flowers—not like they cared about their well-being, but more so they didn’t want to mess up Marmalade’s little home. It was too dark for Fenn to go back to their own nest, so they decided they’d stay there for the night. It was a nice place, anyhow. And Marmalade didn’t mind at all.

In the morning, Fenn had set out to hunt for them, though Marmalade tagged along. She insisted she could hunt just fine (even if she was so rotund she could hardly walk properly) and so Fenn ended up herding a squirrel right into her paws so she could be all triumphant about catching something. Still, seeing her almost kit-like joy at having caught something made it all worth it.

-

After that day, it became something of a routine for either Fenn or Marmalade to seek out the other to chat, hunt, or just enjoy each other’s presence. It was nice. Solitude was always familiar to Fenn, but there was something comforting, fulfilling, about being with Marmalade. This silly little orange cat filled a void in their heart, a hole that'd been there for years. One left by their kits.

It’d been so long since they ever wondered about them, about Jayspot and Remorapaw. They hadn’t seen them since before they’d been revived on the border of ThunderClan and RiverClan. What were they up to? Were they even still alive?

They found a sliver of comfort in the fact that they hadn’t seen either of them in StarClan. Or… at least, they didn’t remember seeing them. Much of their time in StarClan was hazy—like a very long dream.

In a way, it was like Marmalade was one of their kits. Against their strongest desire to stay closed off (to stay safe from harm, from how much the pain of others affected them), they knew they already cared about her too much.

They knew this wouldn’t end well. Nothing involving family ever did. But even knowing that, there was no way they could stay away. They had to protect her.

[ameko]

3. The End is Never the End

They hadn’t seen Marmalade in a couple days. Not that this fact by itself was anything to worry about, but that uneasy feeling that had been creeping all along Fenn’s spine had them go out that day in search of her. Just in case. By this point, they knew the route to Marmalade’s little clearing like the back of their paw. In no time at all they had made the trek over, but just as they were about to reach the edges of the forest, they heard sniffling. Fenn paused. There was another scent, too, one that they’d often caught traces of lingering on Marmalade’s pelt.

Fenn pushed past the last bushes obscuring their vision and spotted Marmalade, sitting by herself. She glanced up as they arrived, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes—but at the sight of Fenn, her gaze dropped back down to the ground.

“...what’s wrong?” asked Fenn, padding forward to nudge her gently with their nose.

Marmalade sniffled again, curling into herself. She shook her head once. Fenn took a step back and sat in front of her, waiting. After a couple seconds of silence, she mumbled out, “he changed his mind.”

“What?”

Voice thick with emotion, Marmalade continued. “I told him I didn’t want to live with the wind cats. I told him. I don’t—I don’t want to raise my kits there. He…” she paused to take a shaky breath. “He said if I didn’t go with him, he’d leave me.”

Oh. Their heart sank. Of course he’d gone back on his word. Fenn took a moment to think, watching as Marmalade prodded at a strand of grass. They had to do something to help her, show her that this Brackenheart wasn’t worth her time and that she’d be okay without him. Someone who left their mate alone for weeks at a time wasn’t a good partner. If Fenn did nothing, and something bad ended up happening (it would, it always does, remember Pigeonfleck?) then it would be their fault for not doing anything to help.

She’d been getting thinner. Frail, even with how pregnant she was. No amount of prey seemed to help. Their stomach twisted with that familiar sense of unease. “He’s not worth it.”

Marmalade looked up at this, sunken eyes wide. Before she could interrupt, they continued. ”If he really loved you, he’d come stay with you and actually make sure you were well. Stars, I’ve been with you for weeks and I haven’t seen the cat once!”

Her fur bristled at Fenn’s words, and she uncurled herself to rise to her paws. “He does love me! You don’t know him!”

“If he does, then why would he threaten to leave you alone?”

Marmalade’s eyes flickered away. “He—he just wants to stay with his wind cats. They’re his family.”

“And you’re not?”

“I am. I’m his mate.”

“Clearly he doesn’t see you as his. Have you seen yourself? You look sick, and yet he hasn’t done a damn thing to help you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just sees you as a burden.”

Marmalade looked back over to Fenn, eyes wide. A moment’s shock passed before her gaze narrowed into a glare. Quietly, she said, “Get out.”

Their chest twisted with a violent surge of regret. They had to make her listen, but maybe that was too much, too fast. For a split-second, it felt as if they were back as a young warrior, obstinately refusing to listen to anyone’s worries about Pigeonfleck. “Look, I was just…”

Marmalade turned around, ginger fur bristling as she stared stubbornly down at the little patch of blue flowers nearby. “Just—just leave.”

And so they did.

[ameko]

4. Burn Out or Fade Away

The birds were quiet. The trees were still. The blue flowers stood, pretty as they always were.

Fennel looked past them now, at the body that lay in the clearing. Blood pooled around her head, dried and tacky. Flies buzzed about in the air. Fennel stared.

how long had it been? how many weeks had they been apart?

how long had she been here, rotting and alone in her home?

slowly, stepping carefully to avoid the flowers she’d always loved, fennel padded forward to stand before her.

“i’m sorry,” was all they whispered. i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.

fennel settled beside her limp, frail body and pressed their nose against her crusted fur. they knew it was always going to end like this.

they knew, so why did it hurt so much?