For now we'll say goodbye (c)

It was getting harder to breathe every day.

It should have been a time of warmth and relief. The long, cold leaf-bare was long gone. Greenleaf was on its way; a time of life, a time of plenty for every Clan. Abundant prey. Blooming flowers. But instead, all of WindClan hung under a heavy cloud of darkness. It was choking, smothering, almost smoky invisible anxiety and worry that wouldn't leave them alone. Because of their leadership, they were no longer safe. Because of ShadowClan's tempers, war could happen any moment. Because of the stars, the moors were a place of danger rather than freedom. Flutterpetal no longer knew who to blame. It would be so easy to blame Nightstar, as Batsong did. After all, he had violently mutilated their warriors and snarled threatenings without offering a single kindness in return for their alliance. It would also be easy to blame Batsong, whose vendetta ensured she could not keep her mouth shut, or even Shrikestar, whose lack of care about his Clanmates in the name of "righteousness" sealed the bitterness with which every other cat would now speak the name of WindClan. He could also blame the stars. Silverpelt had taken away nearly every cat dear to him, one by one, with cold, unfeeling paws. And now, due to a revelation that had nothing to do with the moor-dwelling Clan, they were in even worse danger than anything they had ever faced before during Flutterpetal's lifetime. If the stars truly cared about their wellbeing, wouldn't they have stopped the Gathering? Or told Batsong to stick her fangs together? Or said nothing, or revealed it to the proper Clan medicine cats, or literally anything else? But blaming did no good. No matter how much his Clanmates snarled at their leadership, how much they cursed the skies, how many angry insults they hurled over the border, nothing could save them from this trap. They were surrounded on all sides. There was nowhere to flee. Fight, or die.

His long-trusted getaway technique of patrolling borders alone was no longer advisable. No matter how much he might wish to see his friend again, if he ran into any other ShadowClan cat, Flutterpetal knew it was more likely than not that he might be the inciting incident that caused his Clanmates to be hurt. The righteous vengeance infusing each and every other ShadowClan warrior must have been the same as Batsong's, to be so thirsty for WindClan blood. But even though his single patrols were dangerous, he still found himself slipping away in the middle of the moors, trying to get a breath. Camp was suffocating, stifling. He couldn't stay under the dark cloud of apprehension and burdened, simmering resentment for a moment longer. He hated feeling upset, and every time he saw the face of his leader and medicine cat, something unpleasant churned in his stomach. He had to get away. And so, for not the first time this moon, he found his paws wandering the well-traveled path to Fourtrees.

He didn't know why. He had very few pleasant memories of Fourtrees. Well--that wasn't exactly fair. Perhaps it was better to say that his feelings about the clearing were... mixed. It was where he'd met many friends and spent nights sitting close to his brother under a full sky of moon and stars. It was also where they'd been forced to live for almost a moon before the Twolegs descended, driving them to the hard, cold surfaces of Highstones for nearly two more moons afterward. And, just earlier this moon, it was where Batsong had doomed WindClan to be the forest's pariah. But... with fewer cats in it, Fourtrees was less stressful. Surely no one else would come there, right? Perhaps he would be free to gather flowers in peace, without the looming shadow that leaked from camp.

It wasn't the first time he'd found himself here alone... or, that he thought he'd been alone. Last time, someone else had stumbled upon him. And apparently that would be the case this time too. When the scent of ShadowClan hit his nose, Flutterpetal bristled, bracing himself to turn and sprint back across the relative safety of the border. However, that was only for a moment, before he looked further down the path and saw the source of the scent. Then all hackles fell and he was running--but not running away. Running forward. "Honeylight!" There was surprise and delight in the tom's voice as he dashed towards his friend, green eyes that had previously been weary and downcast suddenly alight with warmth. Some part of his mind, the kittish side that had been deeply buried since everything bad cascaded down on him, urged him to tackle the tom. However, he managed to regain control of his paws just in time to dig them into the ground, skidding to a belated halt. Still his smile was wide and genuine. "It's good to see you! What are you doing here? Those flowers look wonderful! I...." Wait. Honeylight was ShadowClan. He wouldn't blame Flutterpetal for the recent events... would he? What if he thought it was their fault, too? The smile on the fluffy black tom's face fell slightly, and he took a hesitant step back. Uncertainty colored his tone. "I...I'm sorry about... the Gathering. I, maybe I shouldn't...."

Flutterpetal's uncertainty melted in the face of Honeylight's warm purr. How could he even have dared to worry that his friend would be swayed by the tension between their two Clans? The two of them had never cared for the thin border lines between their territory. Here, on neutral space, far away from any other prying eyes, they could be friends visibly. It was just like when they lived together at Highstones. The WindClan warrior allowed his tense muscles to relax. Honeylight pressed up against him, and Flutterpetal returned the gesture, allowing his dark fur to mesh with light golden brown.

"I'm glad to see you too," he responded, hearing the truth of the words as relief made his ears perk a little taller. "I'm here... well, for the same reason as you, I guess. To get away." His tail flicked slightly as Honeylight pulled away, and he glanced back to his own moor territory. Normally he loved WindClan. But right now... "It's stifling. Everyone's waiting for it to happen. Kind of like a rain cloud on the horizon. You know it's coming--you just don't know when. So you huddle and you wait. But any more waiting is going to make me sick." Flutterpetal's previously friendly tone had grown weary as he spoke. But she shook his head, fluffing his fur out and allowing himself to smile again. That was a problem for later. He didn't have to worry about it right now. He spoke again, tone warm once more, eyes sparkling. "Anyway! If I'd known you'd be here, I would've brought some flowers. I'm doing about as well as I can, at the moment. What about you? Last time we spoke, you said your mom was pregnant! How about it? Are you a big brother now?"