For Life, Love, and the Pursuit of... Something [Closed]

He'd be lying if he said that his sides didn't still ache furiously from the previous confrontation with Skyclan. But, he had dealt with pain before, both in this life and the last. A little stabbing agony to the side couldn't slow his paws. The dilute calico warrior had found a moment of spare time between patrols. Even if he hardly had a clue of what he was doing, the tom had slipped into the life of your average Riverclan warrior quite easily and with little hesitation. The damage to his skull had proven he was really one for taking challenges head on. Sparkfrost grinned at his own thoughts as he slid through the river and towards Sunningrocks. It was a particularly beautiful day. He realized that there were few things he enjoyed more than the feeling of sunlight warming his coat. Sometimes it would slip through cracks in the den walls and he would have a hard time leaving his nest. Thinking about being able to lay on the smooth grey stone and actually not have to get up for training or a patrol sounded wonderful.

As he shook away the droplets of water, dotting the back and rocks with darker grey fleck, the tom sought out a place to lay. It was a rather secluded area of the rocks, but with plenty of sunlight. Perhaps the only downside was that is was near where Thunderclan marked the border, or at least one of his clanmate might say so. He had found the mingling clan scents to be a comfort. After the flood and time with cats of all clans, their combined smell had become somewhat of a comfort akin to that of his long forgotten mother. Sparkfrost settled in, breathing in the warm air and sighing as a cool breeze tousled his coat. For quite some time, he went uninterrupted in his sun bathing endeavor. Finally, there was a soft scuffling of paws ahead, one that stirred him just enough to open his dull green gaze and peer over the Thunderclan border. A familiar pelt was there. Without rousing himself from the position, Sparkfrost flicked his tail and meowed in a soft, friendly tone to the other tom, "Why don't you join me? The sun is great up here."

Every morning without fail, the young tom woke up with a stiff, swollen shoulder- a remnant of the wound he'd earned while inTwolegplace. According to the medicine cats, it was the heat that had caused it to swell. Lynxtail didn't see how that could help fix the problem, but he was glad that they didn't stop him from patrolling.

Lynxtail's shoulder twinged, and he cursed. The scar wasn't painful, but it was just annoying enough to put the tabby warrior in a bad mood. That, paired with no breakfast and not much sleep (thanks to an incredibly loud, early-rising apprentice), meant that the young warrior had to skip his patrol and hunt on his own or risk being confined to camp for attacking a clanmate. 'Who should've known better than to wake up the warriors for a dare,' Lynxtail thought bitterly, kicking at the undergrowth and wincing as his shoulder twinged again.

The sunlight hit him like a wall. Lynxtail's ears rang and he squinted, swaying on his feet slightly. The bright light definitely didn't help his headache... Maybe he should head back to camp and eat something before hunting. If he caught more than one piece of prey during his patrol, it wouldn't matter that he'd eaten, right?
A familiar voice suddenly brought the tom out of his stupor, and Lynxtail's pelt instantly grew hot. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't noticed where his paws were taking him- was he at Sunningrocks already?

"Hello, Sparkfrost," Lynxtail tried to sound as relaxed as the Riverclan tom looked, but he was suddenly struggling to string those two words together. Why was he nervous?
He glanced around before leaping over the border. Sunningrocks was highly disputed territory: that was why Lynxtail's paws were shaking. Actually, it probably wasn't a good idea to cross the border. He should just politely decline and head back home.
Lynxtail hesitated, but his eyes grew wide at the sight of the sun-warmed rocks. A short while wouldn't hurt, and it wasn't like anyone would know...
The warrior clambered over the large stones and settled down beside the calico tom with a friendly purr. "I can see why Thunderclan wanted Sunningrocks so badly. There's nowhere to sunbathe that's nearly this good in our territory," He mewed, instantly regretting his words. Why would he bring up the war, of all things? The Thunderclanner stretched, eyeing Sparkfrost as nonchalantly as he could, looking for his reaction.

Sparkfrost hadn't even considered the border crossing, it wasn't in his nature. He was ton contented from his sunny spot on the rocks to think of it other, not even in a fleeting thought. All he cared for was the moment to relax, and the perfectly timed appearance of Lynxtail. After the last couple gatherings where they had manged to speak for a few moments, he found himself wanting more and more time with the handsome tom. Perhaps it was wrong to crave so deeply a cat from another clan. But he did not bear the same desires as his clanmates. They knew what it was like to grow up at each other's sides and forge relationships on the battle fields and through hunts. The history was no longer there for him, even if it was for them. At least, it wasn't in his head. What he had learned was that he was not fond of the borders. If it were not for the deeps wells of sadness and pity he had when he looked into the eyes of his kin, the dilute calico might have fled the clan earlier. For now, he was fairly content doing his duties for this clan. But for how long? It seemed the desire to sit still was already fleeing.

After recent conversations, he was pleasantly surprised that Lynxtail had made the decision to join him. But that didn't mean he did not apprentice it. Sparkfrost rolled over, a new habit of his since for some time his legs had once made it hard to walk, and closed the gap between them. Both the warmth from the sun and the tom next to him were incredibly pleasant. His tail flicked across Lynxtail's back, running its length before settling on his haunches. It was a fairly intimate gesture but not one that Sparkfrost thought much of. He was pleased the tom was here and delighted in his company, that's what there was to it. The Riverclan calico's posture was as casual as one might typically hold with a clanmate, or even with a mate. But Sparkfrost thought little of it whereas Lynxtail might have had a stronger reaction, given he was also technically trespassing. When the other tom mentioned the dispute over the rocks, his shoulders shrugged slightly against the rocks before he responded.

"Personally, I think all cats should enjoy it here. This is far too pleasant of a place for any one clan to hold. Maybe Jaystar needs to spend more time out here relaxing and less time worried about the scent of a border." Sparkfrost smiled up at the tom with his eyes still closed as he spoke of Riverclan's leader. Despite not knowing him too well, the warrior did like his leader, even if they disagreed over matters such as the Sunningrocks. He twisted his head to nuzzle the other tom's fur casually before lapping at his chin. Some other cats might have stopped to consider if their action were too forward, but Sparkfrost was certainly not most cats. After running his tongue the length of Lynxtail's jaw, he meowed once more, "We should really come here more often. I feel like the forest spends too much time hunting and patrolling when we ought to be enjoying this beautiful place. Do you like living among the trees? It seems like it might get a little cramped at times, but being Thunderclan you're probably used to it."

Lynxtail's hackles rose unbidden as Sparkfrost moved closer. "What does he think he's doing?" He thought, his tufted ears twitching anxiously. What was he doing? This whole... thing, whatever it was, had to be against some sort of rule.
If the brown warrior could will himself to leave, he would've. But something kept him still, something warm and cool at the same time, a fluttering creature located somewhere in his chest.
The young tom took a calming breath. "This is just what friends do." He reminded himself. "It's not like there's anything-"

Lynxtail's train of thought was cut off abruptly as Sparkfrost ran his tail down his back. The young tom jumped as if he'd been shocked, but he managed to turn his startled movement into an odd-looking stretch. "This is fine."
This was most certainly not fine. Lynxtail was painfully aware of the smallest touch, and each one hit him like a heavy stone, rendering him completely defenseless. The weight of Sparkfrost's tail on his haunches was simply impossible to ignore, and the warmth emanating from the Riverclan tom was suddenly palpable.
Starclan, if Lynxtail couldn't even be near Sparkfrost without feeling like he was going to faint, how was he supposed to survive in the forest? Would brushing shoulders with another warrior make his paws numb? How on Earth would he manage in a fight?

Lynxtail wasn't the most affectionate cat in the forest. Physical contact made him uncomfortable, even if he was just brushing past a warrior in a crowd or sharing a nest with his siblings in the winter. It sounded ridiculous, but Lynxtail was always scared that the affectionate cat might finally see the dark, rotten core that caused his mother to leave him in the first place- or worse, it might rub off them.
Sparkfrost left no room to feel uncomfortable. Lynxtail's thoughts had hardly caught up when the calico tom began grooming him- something that took all of the Thunderclanner's attention, and for some reason, made him feel like maybe moving to Riverclan wasn't the worst idea in the world.
He was dimly aware that Sparkfrost had finished speaking and was looking at him, waiting for a response. "Y-eah, I mean, I-I'd like that. And, uh, the trees are good." Lynxtail babbled. We should really come here more often... What did that mean? "I mean, I like Thunderclan territory because it feels... safe, I guess? Protected. This is a nice change, though."

There was a brief pause, and Lynxtail's gaze drifted towards the water. "How do Riverclanners dry off so quickly?" He mewed. "I mean, I usually don't like getting wet because my fur takes ages to dry. What's your secret?"

Sparkfrost purred as he reveled in the warmth of both the day and of his companion. Being at Lynxtail's side felt right and seemed to awaken some primal feeling deep within the cavern of his chest. It was more than he could say with most of the Riverclan cats he knew. The warrior loved them and cared for him as much as he did any cat, but the bond there was merely one of circumstance, forged in the wake of a forgotten past some odd moons ago. Yet, here, he felt... safe. Protected. His thoughts seemed to mirror the words of the other tom speaking and his grooming stopped to allow for a silent smile across his maw. Although this was a vastly different conversation aloud than the one racing through his thoughts, Sparkfrost found himself nodding in agreement at both of them. He certainly noticed the way that the short-tailed tom stumbled over his words and the calico's whiskers twitched in appreciation.

It was funny how on such open rocks he had never felt more secure. And just maybe that had to do with the tom whose coat was pressed up against his. Sparkfrost had never stopped to consider his own forwardness, or the breaking of some code that wasn't his, there was no need to. There was no reason to overthink things, "I've heard the secret is all the fish we eat. I could catch you some if you want! It would definitely help with all the fur you have." A majority of what the calico tom knew had been bestowed on him by other cats who filled in the gaps of knowledge in his brain. After all this time, it did finally occur to him that this perhaps was against the rules of the forest. But it didn't bother him. Instead, he wore a cheeky grin as he glanced up at Lynxtail, "Suppose we could get in trouble for this? We haven't done anything wrong, I'm just enjoying the company of a... friend." His eyes met Lynxtail's for a moment as he pushed himself onto his forelegs and he touched his nose to the other cats. Sparkfrost only hesitated for a second before his tongue ran briefly over Lynxtail's maw.

"You're welcome to go, if you need to but... you're also welcome to stay."

The sun was hot, but that wasn't the only reason Lynxtail's fur was warm. He was embarrassed- he hadn't been near another cat in moons, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He'd never groomed anyone before- he barely took the time to put his own fur in order each morning.
Was it weird that he hadn't moved yet? The tabby warrior shifted slightly, his tattered ears twitching. He was worried it would be weirder if he did something now... Was it too late to move? He glanced at the calico tom anxiously. Something that seemed so simple from a distance was suddenly complicated and dangerous. How was this ever considered relaxing?
Lynxtail shuffled his paws again. Sure, he could be missed at camp or caught here, trespassing on disputed Riverclan territory, but those worries paled in comparison to the fear that kept the tabby frozen in place. He was terrified that he'd do something wrong and Sparkfrost would leave.
If there was a way to mess this up, he'd certainly find it. It was like the young tom was teetering on the edge of a steep cliff, uncomfortably aware of how close to the side he was. Just one slip and he'd be gone. It was terrifying.

Then Sparkfrost spoke and Lynxtail was purring, lost in the tom's warm vibrato. It was like a switch had been flipped in his mind; all the trepidation he felt had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He could feel the sound moving from the calico's chest to his own, skipping the air between the two as if what little space still separated them had ceased to exist. How had he not noticed this before?
The brown tom felt a jolt of euphoria, his heart beating, no, leaping upward- he could almost feel his paws lift off the ground. Something about the rumble of the Riverclanner's voice so close by felt right, like that was the only way it was supposed to be heard. He was so lost in this feeling, he could barely process what Sparkfrost was saying.
"Suppose we could get in trouble for this?"

The golden-brown warrior had always been overly cautious of rules and boundaries. Rules kept his clan and clanmates safe. They provided comfortable borders to live his life in, grooves worn away by generations of warriors before him that he could easily settle in. Most importantly, the rules kept him securely in Thunderclan. If Lynxtail broke the rules, he'd have to leave his father and siblings- the three most important cats in his world -behind. Before today, the thought of abandoning his family wasn't even allowed to enter his mind. It was simply unthinkable.

That simple truth made Lynxtail's next actions shocking to even himself. Throwing caution to the wind, he bumped the calico's nose with his own, his paws kneading the warm stone. He met Sparkfrost's eyes, grinning before pulling him closer until their foreheads met. "Even if we do get caught, I don't care." He said earnestly.
"Besides, it's not like we're breaking any big rules... Just two friends sharing tongues on a sunny day. That's how Sparkfrost sees it," He thought to himself.
And then he was falling off the cliff. Lynxtail brushed his cheek against Sparkfrost's, then ran his nose across his jawline until the calico's chin was resting on the top of his head.
What Lynxtail said was true- he couldn't care less if someone found them (and they weren't breaking any rules). Right now, all that mattered was making sure that they'd be able to meet again. Lynxtail pulled away reluctantly, a grin settling on his maw."Why don't you give me a few fishing lessons?" He suggested. "I can't stay here forever, as much as I'd like to, but we could start meeting here every once in a while if you'd like."