You've Never Looked Quite So Beautiful... (closed)

Pinewhisker gave his chest a concerned lick, his green eyes scanning his reflection in a pool of melted ice for any kind of imperfection. His pelt tingled at the feeling of... love?????????? He hasn't felt like this in a while, since he and Sheepnose... No, he had sworen to forget her, once he had taken this decision. They had taken kits in the name of disobeying StarClan and their will, and all of them... they were gone... but Emberheart...

She was hope, where Sheepnose had been desire. She was a fire when Sheepnose had been a never-ending flow of water. She was dancing wind where Sheepnose had been a heavy stone. And he loved her, alas he loved her, but with Emberheart, there was something else, painful, almost.

He poked his sleek head in the warriors' den, poking the younger warrior with his muzzle, his eyes glinting in expectance as he waited for her to come out. To question him. To joke. To smile sweetly. And to find out the truth...

Emberheart lifted her bright golden-russet head groggily, confused as she watched Pinewhisker vanish out of the den, disappear outside and wait for her. The familiar comfort that filled her, warm and tingling, whenever she saw the dark tom spread throughout her body as she scrambled to her paws, blinking the sleep from her eyes. 

Training's early, she thought, and then with a quick shake realized she was a warrior. A few licks to tame her untidy coat, at least to get the moss out, and then she quietly slunk out, careful not to wake anyone. She winced as she trod on some unfortunate cat's tail, but they didn't wake. Curiosity filled her every step, and before long she came bounding out of the warrior's den, eyes sparking.

"Something wrong?" she chirped, landing next to the tom. He seemed to blend in with the night, and Emberheart blinked tiredly, trying to make her eyes adjust to the dim rays of moonlight. "Or just nostalgic about that time I wandered too close to the Thunderpath?" The russet warrior grinned and shifted closer to him, the only source of warmth in the chilly air.

Pinewhisker looked at her anxiously, maybe the first time a cloud shaed the brilliant green of his eyes. How could he tell the she-cat what he felt, without her questioning his sanity. He tried to step closer, and when he managed to down the lump in his throat, he cleared his voice and spoke.

"Emberheart. You have always been a practical cat. So I will get straight to the point. Emberheart... I love you. And I wish you to be my mate."

Emberheart stared at him, and the night was quiet. She'd been taken by surprise at the question; but her eyes, staring into his, slowly lit with streaks of amber and golden. It was in this moment she forgot Sleetfang, in her naive, love-striken state, and so the russet cat nodded, then again, quicker. "I…I love you too. I'll be your mate!"

And as she purred, pressing around the tom, the silver-white gleam of stars shimmering like frost on their pelts, not one thought of her other lover crossed her mind.