daylight fading / i curse the breaking [closed]

Feathery tendrils of partially translucent white haze lay heavy upon the humid hour of profoundly early morning horizon; cool fingers of silky gossamer webbing slipping across the muddied riverbank and rippling riverwaters with the delicacy of a newfound pulse, dancing faintly atop the bouncing spray of twisting currents. The solitary silence was all that was offered up within the depths of the early hour, the once habitually familiar sounds of nocturnal river-life that had been donned akin to a secondary skin stifled under both the lingering grasp of the chill and the lingering darkness of the retreating night. The thick foliage that crept outwards from the tightly-bound depths of the forest were relegated to nothing more than mere outlines within the pale depths of the early morning mist, once recognizable landmarks deeply engraved against the somber footings of the Sunningrocks suddenly engulfed within the eerily silent amassing of stubbornly lingering vapor.

It was a morning just like this. All those moons ago.

Smooth fog of his exhales eagerly devoured within the simmering cloud of whirling mist, Jaystar slipped from the depths of the tumbling river; a steady collection of droplets continually beaded along the angular length of his form, a rapidly drying crown of frost that glistened weakly in the low light of early morning. The heady, chilly dampness exuded by the snowy fog tugged at the lingering twinges within his muscles that resided within the aftermath of war, the aftermath of an alleged call to purpose. The broken heartstrings within his chest at the tantalizing glimpse of Kitefire, forever held beyond his reaches. Enshrined in the touch of possibility, never laid to rest yet never allowed to roam free. Pale gaze reflective in the wan light of the fog-riddled early hours of dawn, Jaystar's steps against the soft mud of the riverbank, and ensuing rolling stretch of stones, were surprisingly silent.

Long coat nothing more than an ominous dark smudge against the perpetually whirling cloud of greys and whites that decorated the riverside, the young tom was idle in his absent wanderings; content to simply stretch his legs and enjoy a heartbeat or two of absolute silence in the ghostly haunting grounds of where his mate's grave now resided.

The feeling of cool stone against Perchfall's pads comforted her, a soothing sense of familiarity against all the strangeness of the past few days. Her sudden new duties as deputy had granted her very little time for her favorite hobby: taking walks alone. Was it any wonder that she had little to no interpersonal relations with her Clanmates, as much of a strange loner as she had always been? Well, if she hadn't had any friends before now, the strange circumstances of her appointment were unlikely to make her any now. So, with a few moments she had stolen after organizing the patrols for the day and sending Beetlepaw off to clean the elders' nests, the deputy found herself wandering around RiverClan territory, deliberately not following any set path, but listening to the soothing sounds of the rushing, rolling river that ran through the land around her.

Despite her insistence on not going anywhere in particular, she found herself drawn towards Sunningrocks, remembering the skirmish she'd heard about. With the chilly world around her that made her breath puff white in the air, the concept of lying on a warm rock was certainly appealing, though she knew with the thick blanket of fog there would be no sunlight to be found. Though she didn't really intend to head there, she ended up doing so anyway, and to her surprise found the last cat she'd expected to see.

Jaystar, the new leader of RiverClan, strange tom who had appeared from the Mist and snatched the Clan's power from the jaws of the vacuum left by Ivystar's disappearance, lay around the rocks, his gaze as strange and unfathomable as always. It occurred suddenly to Perchfall that she had never had an actual conversation with this tom, who had picked her to serve as his deputy with as much alarm and as little explanation as a bolt of lightning in a greenleaf storm. How had he even known her name? Why would he not choose a cat he knew? What about her blank face and lack of words, which made so many of her Clanmates wary of her, made this strange enigma of a tom think she would be a good choice? All these questions raged in her head, but none of them left her maw. Instead, Perchfall chose to slowly walk up to the tom and seat herself beside him. She didn't spare him a word or a glance, but instead settled next to his river-damp form and stared with her own inscrutable blue eyes into the churning depths of the river below.

The faint undercurrent of a leisurely tumbling river upon the drowsy early morning sky was briefly interspersed with the soft interlude of silky fur catching atop porous stone, willowy boughs of rapidly dissipating fog curling and trembling in indistinct patterns as Jaystar remained stationary atop a cresting of a particularly low-hanging stone shelf. The quiet arrival of Perchfall was heralded only by chips of stone and unfortunate pebbles, lingering much too close to the sharp cleft of a crumbling stone face, sent raining down against the softly muddied earth just a step or two below, the faint echo resonating lightly above the dismal grey of the dawning horizon. Settling into a semblance of resolute silence, the gently moving rivulets of fog seemed to cool and soften around the dark-furred young tom, seeping into the unkempt mane of his coat as he made an appropriate amount of room for his Deputy to seat alongside him.  

The faintest ghost of a twitch crept down the curved expanse of his spine, the only initial indicator that Perchfall's quiet present was staunchly received and subsequently processed. Pale gaze illuminated into a reflective gleam of striking blues and gleaming ambers, the dark-furred tom's gaze remained fixed upon a point of seeming little interest- a haphazard heaping of stone, quickly crafted with little forward bearing intentions to belay the importance of what laid beneath. If Jaystar devoted enough attention and unblinking fixation to the somber mausoleum just a tail-length or so away, he could almost see the faintest of outlines residing within the weak streams of cool light that wavered softly upon the humid morning air, the short undercut of a ghostly fiery coat gently illuminated in a halo streaked with reds, golds, and ambers. Nothing more than a singular stain upon the pestering humid chill. "Most don't bother with the tedium of venturing out this way at such an hour," Jaystar eventually mews back, low rasp of his voice heavy upon the chilly late autumn air, "I hope your duties are treating you well."

For a few moments they sat, appreciating the silence pierced only by the sounds of nature. Perchfall felt a blanket of calm settling over her, uncertainty soothed by the gentle rushing of the river before her. Though she still knew nothing about this tom, nor why he was here, the fact that he could sit silently was a potential telling of a hidden good character. Instead of looking at him, she peered into the water, watching the gray stones that tumbled at the bottom. I'd rather be a stone than a deputy. It would be so simple to sit there in the water, following the current, living at a slow, gentle pace. A couple of small fish swam by, too small to eat, and nestled in the roots of some rushes further downstream. This place was so peaceful... it was hard to believe it had been the site of bloodshed so many times before. But even as she sat contemplating, the silence was eventually broken.

A flick of her ear told the tom that she was listening to him, despite not sparing him a second glance. It was a reasonable attempt at starting a conversation, and she appreciated it, even as much as she would rather say nothing. However, a talk with this mysterious shadow seemed like something she needed to do, regardless of her level of comfort with the concept of speech in general. Being a deputy would not make for a silent life. At his question, Perchfall took a few moments of relapsed silence to respond before dipping a white paw contemplatively in the cool water. She almost wished the fog that swirled around them would swallow her up, shielding her from the constant worries that now followed her. "I like the silence," she said, simple words responding to the first part of his thoughts. It was true. That was the fundamental reason she wandered the territory. However, the question he asked afterward was the one causing her thoughts to churn like the chilly water around her paw. "I'll get used to the duties eventually." A noncommittal answer. Per usual. Just come out and say it, you piece of fish.

Though she hated direct conversations, and being the one to pry into another's business, there was a query that needed to be asked. The one that danced around her ever since that strange morning that still seemed like some sort of waking nightmarish dream. Finally taking her eyes off the river, Perchfall turned to Jaystar and fixed his odd gaze with her own light blue one. Her face and voice belied none of her frustration, only a low murmur of a question. "Why me?"

The early morning sky, a silky wreath of droll late autumnal darkness and gently tattered wisps of sprawling humidity and desolate fogs, was continually imbued with the resounding familiarity of welcome silence; the quiet chatter of the churning riverwater offering a cheerful semblance of ever-continuing banter in the wake of the contemplative silence of conversation. Jaystar had also once held the virtue of silence in high regard, all those moons ago, when the world was shaded cold and grey and the terrible cruelty of his heart had yet to know its first breath. A singular dip of a skeletal chin was the only immediate response denigrated to Perchfall’s rather bleak assessment of her newfound standing, dark gaze remaining fixed upon the somber stretches of stone residing just beyond his immediate reach.

Silvery rivulets of leisurely dissipating body heat clung heavily to the sharp, skeletal outline of Jaystar, dark features awash with the affronting mirror of well-practiced emotional regulation as he made to peer over at the mottled molly in the wake of her inquiry, dark gaze wide and unblinking as ever. Why, why, why would always be the grandest question of all- why Kitefire, why him, why Ivystar, why.

”The breadth of my understanding is just as slim as yours at the end of all things- perhaps even lesser so, even with the advantage of communing with our ancestors,” Jaystar eventually murmured out, heavy voice rattling the right confines of his perpetually aching teeth, ”My mother sought to fill vacancies with those who would give unconditional loyalty to self before unconditional loyalty to the collective- they were always Ivystar’s before they were RiverClan’s.” Heated slips of memories crawled behind the tightly clinched confines of his silky eyelids, emotion publicized before rationale; personal disappointment prized greater than benefit. ”I do not wish to chase what little remains of my mother’s ghost any longer than I must, so I chose one without past affliction or relation- I have found that it is easier to trust the truth given to you by those unknown.”

Without past affliction or relation... well, that much was certainly true. She was barely aware of Jaystar's existence before he stormed in with the omen of death behind him that unprecedented morning. In a way, she supposed that it made sense. There were very few cats who trusted him in the first place, so electing a relative unknown to the position of deputy was a move that acknowledged those complaints while simultaneously proving that he showed no signs of his family's usual nepotism. However, he might have miscalculated. She was nearly as much of an oddity in RiverClan as he... young, strange, silent, and hadn't even fulfilled the requirements of a mentor before being thrust upward into a position she knew little about. While his leaps in logic made sense, they may have also secured his doom.

Perchfall nodded slightly, but remained silent, tearing her still-unfathomable frosty blue gaze from the tom's strange eyes. Well, I've received my answer. And yet the uncertainty lingers. More questions bounced around in her head, mind moving a million miles a minute while she sat stone-faced, churning just as fast as the depths in front of her. What would his reaction be if she just jumped into the frigid water and swam away? Away from this conversation, away from her responsibilities.... but no. That wasn't an option. RiverClan was her home, and more than anything, it desperately needed some form of stability. She knew little about this Jaystar, and didn't trust him to provide what was necessary, so the least she could do was stay in her ill-fitting position and supervise his odd ways. How strange it still felt, naming in her mind the title of "deputy." It felt wrong. She hadn't been able to look at Dewlight since the ceremony. Had she usurped the older senior warrior's position, or was this what she would have wanted? The only way to know was through communication, which was far from a field in which she excelled.

Was this silent conversation unbecoming? Was he judging her, sizing her up, as she was him? The dislike of words warred with her inner sense of duty, and eventually a simple sentence won out. A continuation of the conversation, and an indirect question of the many that swirled in her head. "I hope that whatever strange semblance of partnership we may form will serve RiverClan well."