melting (c)

Frostpaw jerked her head up with a start, only to find herself standing at the very edge of the starry marsh. Again. Star-studded though the mud here might be, she far preferred the waking world, with all its imperfections and dangers.

With a small sigh, the little apprentice meandered off through the tall bulrushes, sending stardust floating through the air in her wake. What else was there to do? Any conversation with StarClanners, stilted as it sometimes might be, was preferable to this monotonous silence. There was truly nothing new here.

"You look so bored for an apprentice walking among the stars. Most cats your age would be thrilled to be here." A lanky, flame-pelted warrior appeared from behind the marsh grasses. The scars across his pelt told of many past battles. Bright green eyes bored into Frostpaw as he settled back on his haunches. Flamestrike wrapped his tail over his paws and regarded her silently for a moment, remembering when his own kits had once been apprentices. How many seasons had passed in the forest since then? It wasn't often that the tom spoke to cats from the forest, as he had resigned to a peaceful afterlife. But given how sick the forest was, every cat in Starclan had their eyes on the descendants below. For a young cat to be so strapped with sickness was painful to watch. Had it been Gingerstripe or Firestone, he would have done whatever it took to find the cure. What he could offer now was some semblance of companionship. Flicking his tail leisurely, he meowed, "My name is Flamestrike. While I was born a rogue, Shadowclan cats took me in and raised me. I walked the path of a warrior just like you, despite not having any kin there before me."

The voice, sudden though it might be, did not startle Frostpaw as much as it should have. She turned, flicking an ear, and tilted her head. “Familiarity begets contempt, does it not?”

The tom that stood before her had a sharp gaze, one that made her pelt prickle. She was not sure that she liked him. She was not sure that she liked any cats she met under these circumstances, however, and it would hardly be fair to make assumptions based on the now. She sat, tail curled neatly around her paws, and prepared to listen. She didn’t mind listening. It was better than nothing.

“Oh.” His name was more familiar than she would’ve anticipated. Hmm. ”I’ve heard of you.”

ooc; omg do they have the same text color? that is excellent

"Only if you let it." He meowed back evenly with a flick of his ear, "Sometimes there is new light to be found in a familiar place, all it takes is a new perspective." In his mind, he pictured walking through the mouth of the medicine cat's den. It was a familiar path that his paws had carried him many times in search of healing. However, the meaning had transformed over time, changing like the seasons. What once had been merely a place to patch up after patrols, became a sanctuary for love, and then a reminder of pain. Flamestrike's pelt twitched at the thought. His ears perked up when she mentioned having heard of him.

"The clan hasn't forgotten me. What do they remember? My murderous brother, wandering heart, or the tragedy of my kin?" Flamestrike tried to keep the bitterness from creeping into his words. Such matters had settled in his heart long ago but the thought that his kin was potentially remembered as a part of his mistakes made his stomach churn slightly. More than anything, he was curious what words had met the young cat's ears.