"Your nest or my nest?" Darkfire purred to Goldenwhisker. He just really wanted a nice, warm cat that he loved nearby him, and just walking and touching didn't seem enough. There was something in the feeling of lying in the same nest together....
@Crown_Sage
"Your nest or my nest?" Darkfire purred to Goldenwhisker. He just really wanted a nice, warm cat that he loved nearby him, and just walking and touching didn't seem enough. There was something in the feeling of lying in the same nest together....
@Crown_Sage
Goldenwhisker nosed her way over to his nest, guiding him with her tail. I haven't felt like this in moons... She whispered, nuzzling Darkfire.
Goldenwhisker buried her head in his tail, and let out a small yawn.
Darkfire didn't wake up, but dreamed once more of Lionflop. Not him as he was in Dark Forest, but him when he was alive. Then he saw, in his dream, Lionflop morph into Goldenwhisker, but she so much more beautiful than Lionflop could ever have been. But Darkfire did think, that Lionflop would approve his happiness.
Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T3) | Ultimate Predator: Inactive | Hulk SMASH! [Inactive]
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CW: Dissociation
The massive tom had been quite busy the last few days, training his apprentices and such, so many of the happenings around the clan had gone unnoticed. It was with this that when The Spectre returned to camp, he was confused by the somber mood. Something had happened, but he wasn't sure what.
Regardless, the dark-furred tabby decided that he was going to get some rest, perhaps a nap, in between his duties — a stark contrast to his usual routine of watching over the camp. This decision led him to the warrior’s den, a familiar yet distant scent permeating his scent glands as made his way inside. His nostrils flared at the intrusion of Lostspark’s scent. It wasn’t often that she came to the warrior’s den, however, her scent was intermingled with that of Silverlark and… sickness? Silverlark had seemed a little rough lately, much unlike his usual demeanor, perhaps they’d gone out in an attempt to cheer him up?
Whatever the case may be, The Spectre pushed that thought aside and began heading to one of the back corners of the den only to see that his nest… was occupied. It was Lostspark. Blankly he stared in silence, standing over her trying to figure out why it was she was in his best. It was… odd. Very odd.
Quite honestly, he was perplexed. He hadn’t spoken to her much, not since the incident, but he harbored no animosity towards her. Seeing her like this made his heart ache. A small part of him, perhaps a piece of Darkfall that he had yet to extinguish yearned to comfort her, provide some kind of relief to whatever struggles she was facing.
”What am I going to do with you?” He asked in a soft, rhetorical tone. Shaking his head slightly, he eased into his nest, wrapping himself around her. He couldn’t just go kicking her out, and he wasn’t about to sleep on the cold floor of the den, so he decided he’d share — plus, she was warm. It’d been moons, many moons since they shared a nest like this. Blinking, The Spectre’s brows furrowed. They? That had been Darkfall then, not him. Why was it that a warm feeling bubbled within his chest — a soft purr accompanying it?
Before they had become a couple, the arks had been best friends at one point. Despite their differences, falling outs, and other greviances, the pair had gotten along quite well — seeking eachother out when they were vulnerable and in need of a pick-me-up. It was this that caused the walls — barriers made to protect himself came down, if only a tad. Darkfall gently began grooming his former mate. He licked her forehead, between the ears as he did when they were once closer. ”You’re too hard on yourself. What’s got you all wound up this time, hmm? It’s not often that you let me see this side of you,” He whispered in between rasps of his tongue. He didn’t know if she was asleep, he didn’t really care to be honest, but he wanted to do what he could to ease some of her suffering — to put her mind at rest despite all the inner turmoil she was subjected to.
Icy blue eyes closed as he continued his task. Truthfully, Darkfall had yearned for more moments like this. The time they’d spent together as proper mates had been short before their duties called them apart. He wanted to go on more walks with her, he wanted to share tongues or eat meals together, he wanted to once again share a nest and look after their remaining children together. He… wanted her. Still. The Spectre had repressed such emotions, denied any feelings for the former medicine cat, and carried about caring for himself and their children. But now? Now it was Darkfall. He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, but he knew better. She had her own things to worry about, and so did he.
”I wish things could’ve been different,” He said softly ”I wish we could’ve spent more time like this, maybe things would’ve worked out.” It was little more than the musings and ramblings of a long silent voice, but they held the weight of an entire soul within them. Darkfall loved Lostspark. That was one thing that would never — could never change.
Warmth invaded her uneasy dreams, overriding the darkness, wrapping her in a cocoon of comfort. Lostspark had become a light sleeper in recent moons - actually, she'd always been a light sleeper. So the unfamiliar (once-familiar) feeling of being wrapped around had her fogged mind stirring. It was comfortable, though, and she didn't yet want to wake.
So it was easy to be lulled back into oblivion as soft murmurs permeated her sleep, a rumbling at her back, licks on the top of her head. Her tense muscles relaxed, a slow exhale. Some part of her, a corner of her mind that was awake, knew it was him. It was always him, somehow. The scarred grey Enforcer blearily opened twin amber eyes. For a few moments, she stared into the darkness, facing away from her former mate.
So much hurt, so much hate, so much heartache. Maybe it was time to start healing. To stop ignoring, to stop turning away from her problems.
She shifted, gently rolling over, hazy eyes resting on the large dark-furred warrior at her side. His eyes were closed, but she wasn't sure if he was asleep. What if she lost him, too? Who knew? She'd lost Silverlark just like that, and she could lose Darkfall too. Lostspark didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the tear drip down her cheek, unto the moss beneath them. But how could she be forgiven, after all the mistakes she'd made? After the wreck she'd selfishly made of their family?
Swallowing roughly, the former herbalist hesitated a heartbeat before inching closer, curling silently against her former mate, tear-stained face buried against his chest, sheathed paws kneading against his forearm as a minuscule, barely-there, almost inaudible purr whispered through her.
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❝ I know life and fate are scary, but I wanna be legendary. ❞
Darkfire didn't wake up, but dreamed once more of Lionflop. Not him as he was in Dark Forest, but him when he was alive. Then he saw, in his dream, Lionflop morph into Goldenwhisker, but she so much more beautiful than Lionflop could ever have been. But Darkfire did think, that Lionflop would approve his happiness.
Goldenwhisker's tail flicked as she dreamed, blood and gore being sucked up by water.
Re: ShadowClan Warriors' Den
