The silence continued for a bit as the two former lovers sat there, embracing each other as if they were back in the old days. Part of him wished they were, that there was no bad blood between them, and that they could go back to sharing their small, innocent, but meaningful moments together. Darkfall had continuously been guilty of it – not appreciating those moments, that is. After he and the enforcer became mates, he thought that they would last forever, he thought nothing short of death could seperate them.
He was wrong. So very wrong.
Arising from the murky depths of his turmoil-filled mind, The Spectre seized the opportunity and began piloting the body that belonged to the dark-furred tom. It was as if he were a phantom, coming with no warning and wreaking havoc wherever he went. From that moment, The Spectre was privy to all of Darkfall’s memories that preceded him. He had known of the former enforcer’s weakness, had seen how he had given all of his love and affection to Lostspark and watched how it had backfired as if it meant nothing. It angered him. Why would someone allow themselves to be hurt so much? Why would they tear themselves apart for someone who didn’t feel the same about them? It had been clear. Very painstakingly clear that the grey and white she-cat’s heart no longer belonged to him, her affections were no longer for him. It was as if he were a stand-in for the tom that replaced him prior to his return or the tom that would one day replace him after their relationship dissolved. The Spectre had found it pathetic that the tom was holding out hope for a spark to reignite the dying embers of what had once been a love that could burn down a forest with its raging fire.
He was no longer needed.
Or so he thought.
As Darkfall held his former mate, he found himself tightening his embrace into a hug for just a moment before she pulled away. Seeing the silver of tears sliding down her cheeks, and how she wiped them away and harden her features – if just for a moment, tore him up inside. The familiar desire to protect bored a hole into what he had presumed to be a hollow heart. In this moment, he couldn’t help but reimagine that their old fire may once again be revived and they could give things another shot. He knew that the chances were slim, but the hope once more wormed itself into his weak heart. As he stared into her foggy amber eyes, everything around them seemed to disappear. The den, the nest, the other sleeping and waking forms of their clanmates, all of it. Right now it was just them two. Right now, nothing else mattered.
A white-tipped paw reached up to touch his cheek, and unlike the last time such an action had been taken, he did not flinch away, but instead leaned into it. The she-cats paw slipped along the side of his face, brushing the scarred flesh – a reminder – that lay beneath his eye.
A name was spoken, followed by many more familiar names and that’s when it hit him. Silverlark was dead. He and the now-deceased enforcer weren’t as close as the two of them were, but he still respected and cared for the tom. They had made plans that were no longer able to go into fruition. He would miss him. The nonsense that he said on occasion, the opportunity to work alongside him, fighting with him in battle, all of it. Darkfall wasn’t the greatest at establishing relationships, whether it be friends or with family, but Silverlark had become something akin to a brother perhaps, or simply just family in his eyes. His absence would be felt for many moons to come.
Unable to keep up the tough facade, his features softened and he leaned to gently touch his forehead to hers. Azure blue orbs closed for a moment as the massive tom took a deep, shaky breath, a warm wetness escaping despite his best efforts and possibly falling upon the she-cat’s fur. It was a valid question, one that he didn’t want to think about. How many more would they lose? Would it just be the two of them left after some moons? Kits dead or missing, extended family dead and gone? The thought was depressing and while The Spectre was in charge, it was something that he didn’t have to think about, but once again those treacherous feelings of depression and anxiety welled within him and threatened to once more explode into a roaring flood.
”I don’t know,” Darkfall whispered, remaining in the position for a moment longer before leaning up to lick the top of her head comfortingly and pulling away. Once again bright blues met foggy amber hues. Despite all of her scars, despite the dullness of her once bright eyes, Lostspark was beautiful, and seeing her like this in such an intimate setting made his heart skip a beat. ”I don’t know.” He echoed.
”All of them… they may no longer be with us for one reason or another, but it’s our job to remember them. It’s our duty to honor them. We must do what we can to protect the ones we have left, and make the most of our time with them.” That was the conclusion he came to in his moment of thinking. They couldn’t protect them all, they couldn’t save them all, but that didn’t mean they should mope around when they still had sons and daughters, nieces and nephews to take look after. Sadness filled his gaze, but behind that sadness lay a glimmer of hope, of determination. ”Whatever differences we have, whatever anger or sadness we may hold towards one another, can we put that aside for a moment?” He asked before pausing, searching her gaze, scanning her features. ”Will you work with me?” Darkfall asked ”Let’s protect what’s left of our family.”
”Let’s try again – the right way” Was what was left unspoken, left to be filed away in his thoughts for later. Would he regret this decision later on? He wasn’t sure, but right now? Right now wasn’t the time.
Amber hues fluttered shut as Darkfall’s forehead pressed against hers. Lostspark welcomed the gentle touch — it brought with it a false hope, soothed the lingering wishes for a non-familial affection she harbored in the furthest corner of her mind, in the tightly locked and sealed away corner of her heart.
Her eyes remained closed as Darkfall spoke, and her shoulders slumped. She didn’t know, either. All she knew… was that it hurt. What good was she if she couldn’t protect her loved ones? Was there a reason, then, to her existence. Until now, ambition had fueled her. She had taken everything she’d been able to grasp, climbed up ledges that appeared impossible to most. She’d spread her wings.
Only to have fallen so terribly fast.
Lostspark didn’t wish for a second chance — she didn’t believe in giving herself second chances. She had, once, and been denied both times. Perhaps she had run her course — achieved all there was to achieve. Nothing more was written in her book of fate. Oh, if only she knew how right she would be. If only she could let out the words and emotions that made a nest in her heart. Unhatched eggs, because she was too terrified of the uncertainties that came with them to hurry them along.
“You don’t know what lies ahead.” She exhaled, supposedly sightless eyes reopening. “And neither do I. That does not mean I will refuse to try. To try again, to protect them until I am able to no longer.”
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
The tom basked in the lazy sunlight of his nest, flanks heaving with the gentle lull of sleep. He felt less sore today, his wounds beginning to heal up, the stiffness was still present of course. It would take a few nights for it to fade entirely, he’d use the morning sun to warm up and relax whilst he still could.
Nothing proved a better healer than time, Mossfreckle had done their duties efficiently. Working to seal the gash which stretched along his side and the bite in his hind leg. Lucky he didn’t come off worse, but it had set a deep train of thought in motion. He needed to talk to Tuftedtusk. Confer delicately about their legacy and so forth, it was time to step up. Take ownership of things, leave a mark on Shadowclan they wouldn’t soon forget.
°•○◇ TUFTEDTUSK ◇○•° He/Him • Enforcer • 31M • ShC A large marbled tabby tom with large tusk-like teeth
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The large marbled tom pushed his way into the warriors den, finding him and his mates nest and laying down beside Owlthroat. He began to lick his mates ears, concern filling his chest.
"I heard about the attack," He rumbled quietly. "Are you alright, love?" His teal eyes met the yellow ones of his mate. He was glad he seemed alright. Mossfreckle helped him and he was eternally greatful. He just wanted to be extra sure he was alright.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat beamed a gentle grin at the sight of Tuftedtusk, leaning his head into his mate’s touch. ”Luckily fine”, he chuckled. ”But it was a close scrape, came out worse than I would’ve liked.” Wasn’t quite the all invincible cat he had initially thought himself to be.
He let himself shuffle to get more comfortable, breathing in the sweet scent of warm fur. Owlthroat didn’t exactly know how to bring up his thoughts about a legacy. It would be a difficult conversation to have for a cat like himself, his mind wasn’t entirely made up either.
°•○◇ TUFTEDTUSK ◇○•° He/Him • Enforcer • 31M • ShC A large marbled tabby tom with large tusk-like teeth
---
The tom purred, glad he was okay. Tufted didn't know what he would do without Owl. Getting more comfortable, the enforcer would blink happily at his mate.
"I'm glad you're alright. I don't know what I'd do if something bad happened to you." He murmured.
Sighing happily, he lay his head on his paws. "Do you have anything on your mind?" He'd mew suddenly, seemingly out of no where.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
The tom gently purred at his mate, soaking up the moment. Tuftedtusk was a mind reader of sorts, but he wasn’t quite sure how he’d react to what Owlthroat posed next. He took in a gulping breath, wasn’t like him to be nervous. Ugh.
”I think we should have kits Tufty.” It was off his chest like that, he wanted his legacy and he would damn well get it. ”You know I love you, it’s about time we left our mark on Shadowclan don’t you think?” Quizzically tipping his head to the side, this was certain to be interesting.
Re: ShadowClan Warriors' Den
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