The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: little shots of salvation (c) Tue 10 Sep 2024 - 21:12
Getting used to ShadowClan took some time. In fact, Bubblebeam had no clue whether she would ever truly be used to the multitude of differences about daily life. The mud that stuck constantly to her paws, the strange scents and changes, the bristly pine trees and needles beneath her feet, the new cats that she now called her clanmates, the different-tasting prey... It was all so full of changes. But even through everything, the part that she struggled the most with was getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle. When the moon rose and the blue light faded from the sky, she wanted to go to sleep, not wake up. Her odd schedule lingering ghostlike by the borders of ShadowClan had led to her waking up later, it was true, but it felt so odd to go to bed when the sun rose. She did her best, of course, and didn't complain, because this was what she'd asked for. It was a small price to pay for the new freedom that tingled up her spine. A small price to pay for the severance of her family ties, simultaneously so sharp and uncomfortable and weightless and glorious. To be free, she could take a little bit of strangeness. She could deal with waking up at night and sleeping during the day.
Sometimes, though, it got the better of her. Right now, the former SkyClan she-cat had taken a brief moment to relax after a patrol, sitting down and pressing her back against the cool wall of the warriors' den. She'd meant to just take a second to rest her paws, and then she was going to get back up and learn more of the territory. But the late greenleaf night was so deliciously chilly, and the crickets were chirping in the distance, and she felt her eyelids beginning to flutter shut. It wouldn't hurt to close her eyes just for a heartbeat. Of course she wasn't actually going to fall asleep, not right now in the middle of the day. Or, uh, night. Middle of the night. "Night" and "day" were such tangled concepts inside her head now that she often said the incorrect term. Either way, she wasn't going to fall asleep. She was just resting her eyes, that was all. Just... for a second...
Pawsteps. Bubblebeam bolted awake, her eyes flying open, her head swiveling quickly from side to side. "I--I wasn't sleeping! I was just... resting my eyes. I'm awake, I promise." Adrenaline pumped through her veins with a quick heartbeat, pushing any thoughts of sleep from her mind. Hopefully it wasn't Leopardstar or something, that would be so embarrassing. Eventually, she stopped panicking and saw who'd walked in on her--and her heart stopped entirely. Silverbird stood there, silhouetted by moonlight, impossibly gorgeous as if he were an apparition created specifically for her. It could almost have been a dream, how good he looked. As always, when she saw him, she couldn't keep from smiling. The shy, warm expression grew automatically on her face. "Oh... hey, Silverbird." Maybe she shouldn't be calling him that in camp? But she didn't see anybody else around. It was probably fine. Stars, but it was so nice to have him like this. To be here, and they were together, and not have to worry about someone walking in on them and catching her in the act. She still felt the thrill in her nerves every time they looked at each other, as if she were doing something wrong. It couldn't be wrong anymore, though, not when the one barrier between them was gone. Now, they could talk whenever they wanted. This was why she'd come, wasn't it? Well, one of the reasons. But she couldn't deny the sheer magnetism that she felt every time those dark green eyes turned towards her. "Nice to see you." It was.
Subject: Re: little shots of salvation (c) Wed 11 Sep 2024 - 6:05
SILVERHAWK
The darker the weather...
There was often a fury about Silverhawk in the days following Bubblebeam’s arrival in ShadowClan. It was subtle, kept close to his chest as many of his emotions were, but it was evident in the oft-heavy stamp of his paws, the thinning fur around his neck, the frequent scowl he wore when he thought no one was looking. He stewed near-constantly, trying to puzzle out what Leopardstar had been thinking when she removed him of the council, especially publicly; if she understood what she lost by casting him aside. He could not shake the anger and the embarrassment that came from her lashing tongue, even with days to process.
At least… not by himself, he couldn’t.
There was respite from his brooding thoughts to be found in his family, in time spent with Hawkmist, and--of course--there was Bubblebeam. Having her in ShdowClan… it was a dream. He could almost, almost, forgive Leopardstar her trespass for the fact that she’d allowed Bubblebeam into the Clan. Beneath all his anger, Silverhawk was happy. Delighted, really; over the moon. There was nothing to separate them now. He could see her whenever he wished, and what a lovely sight she always was. No one could tell them off for speaking now. A zip of nerves always came when they would speak--a lingering remnant of their time spent toeing the line of the Code, as well as an awareness that Leopardstar and the rest of the Clan were waiting for Silverhawk to prove himself a traitor by acting far too familiar with her--but a bit of shivering in his paws was not enough to keep him from her. If the will of StarClan could not separate him from Bubblebeam, then nothing could.
Though his thoughts had been drifting to her, Silverhawk hadn’t expected to find her in the warrior’s den when he slipped inside, hoping for privacy. If it had been anyone else retiring in the den, he would have stormed right back out. But the sight of her, gray fur turned silver in the shafts of moonlight that leaked into the den and pale eyes brilliant as they blinked awake, had him held immediately in place. The tension that held his shoulders up leaked entirely out of him. There was nothing he could do except step forward, drawn to her as he had been for seasons. Did she have any idea what she did to him, how she puppeted his paws?
A smile, slow and warm, spread across Silverhawk’s features as she came down from her momentary fright and offered him a greeting. ”Nice to see me?” He echoed in an amused hum. Silverhawk padded closer until he could settle in his own nest--on one side of Bubblebeam’s, where Hawkmist’s took the opposite side. Seeing as there was no one else around at the moment, he leaned forward to bunt his head against Bubblebeam’s, pressing there for a moment before pulling away. ”You say that as if you don’t see me all the time now,” he chuckled with a swish of his tail. Then he laid down properly, tucking his forelegs under his chest and smiling up at her. Stars, he really could look at Bubblebeam forever. His teeth itched with the urge to sink into some part of her, the side of her; the familiar feeling of being overwhelmed by his affections.
”But it’s nice to see you, too,” he said after a beat of just admiring her. Then, with a chuff of amusement, Silverhawk went on, ”Have you been working too hard, or are you just getting used to the nighttime still?”
Subject: Re: little shots of salvation (c) Tue 17 Sep 2024 - 13:35
Bubblebeam could no longer remember whether any of her bodily functions were behaving as necessary--her breath, her heartbeat, the blinks of her eyes. All she could see and feel and hear was Silverbird, standing right there in front of her, moving with such ease through the air that now felt as thick and solid to her as mud. That smile of his threatened to melt her bones down to ash. Stars, she was lucky that the two of them were so busy so often, because if left to her own devices she would probably just sit here and look at him for every hour of the night. He sat there so simply and easily, on the other side of the nest she'd grown to call her own, just like she'd imagined in her most desperate and shameful daydreams. It was all too good. What had she done to deserve him? Why, why did he look at her like that? He could have anything he wanted in the world. Why did he want her?
The soft gray fur of her face flushed slightly at his observation. "I may see you more than I used to," she admitted, "but... it's still nice. I always forget until I see you again just how nice it is." The pressure of his head on hers felt so stabilizing, so surefooted, that she nearly swayed the moment that he removed it. Slowly--unable to take her eyes off of his, though purposefully moving so that she did not trip and make a fool of herself--Bubblebeam lowered herself into her own nest. She hadn't been intending to sleep or nap, but now any desire to go back out and patrol again or become familiarized with camp dissolved like mist. Almost unconsciously, she moved so close to him that their sides brushed against each other. She wanted to touch him. Any part of him. He was so warm, so gentle, so... Silverbird. Not real. He was too good to be real. "Still just getting used to being awake during the night. I mean, I like it... my sleep schedule is just a little bit messed up, is all. I'm sure it won't take too long for me to adjust."
Pale green eyes remained locked onto his, despite the sudden desire she had to look away and stare at the wall of the den. She felt like he looked too far into her--saw too much. The intensity of his gaze nearly overwhelmed her, but she returned it in kind. "The nighttime is so nice, though. I don't really miss the day all that much. I'm sure it'll be a bit more difficult when it gets cold, but right now it's great to escape from the sun a little while. Once I get used to sleeping during the day, the only problem is going to be making sure that I don't get lost. When it's dark, all of the pine trees kind of look the same." Did she sound foolish? Why was she complaining, when everything was so good? He probably knew the territory like the back of his paws. The very tip of her fluffy tail twitched. "I'm learning pretty fast, though. Pineblossom is a good mentor. I mean, I'd like if it was you, but--we'd probably get distracted, or at least I would. So maybe it's better that you're not." What was she even talking about? Bubblebeam laughed at herself, a tiny snort of embarrassed mirth. "Sorry. I should be used to you by now, but for some reason I still have trouble making my thoughts coherent. I guess I just like you too much to make any sense about it."
Subject: Re: little shots of salvation (c) Thu 10 Oct 2024 - 10:30
SILVERHAWK
The darker the weather...
Had Silverhawk had concerns before entering the den? Of course he had. It was why he came stalking in in the first place. But they seemed as nothing in Bubblebeam’s presence, under her gaze. She looked at him with so much love, so much admiration, it nearly made her eyes glow in the dimness of the den. The familiar idea that he did not deserve such looks came in passing, but his hunger for that positive attention quelled it fast. He could fill his belly on her awe alone and lead a comfortable life. He needed it more than nearly anything. Even when she moved to lay down, Bubblebeam’s eyes never left him. Silverhawk felt brilliant. If he stood again, he could have floated away.
”It is. Nice, that is.” He hummed agreeably. When Bubblebeam shifted closer, he did not move away--but still, his mind flashed to wondering what the opinion would be if another warrior were to step into the den at that moment. His ears started to lower before Silverhawk corrected them. He could hear no approaching pawsteps; they were, for the time being, safe. So why not enjoy himself? Silverhawk loosened his jaw and leaned his weight into Bubblebeam. To force away his worry and focus only on touching her soothed the parts of him that were still sharpened. And it was forever, that he had her like this. Stars, what a wonderful thing.
Silverhawk moved his head in a nod at her answer. Before he could respond in kind, Bubblebeam went on talking. And talking, and talking, wandering between subjects. Silverhawk’s smile rose a little higher and he blinked fondly at her. It was not the first time that he considered Bubblebeam lucky. Were she anyone else, many of her habits would have annoyed him. Instead, he found only endearment in the way that she rambled. In some way, it was nice to know that the misery of SkyClan had not taken all of herself from her.
An amused snort left him at the idea that all their trees looked the same. ”You’ll learn to tell them apart,” Silverhawk said. A comment waited on his tongue about how Pineblossom was a good mentor, and he knew because it’d been his own, but it dissipated in the wake of Bubblebeam’s words. Silverhawk’s skin warmed beneath his fur, up his neck and around his cheeks. Of course he wouldn’t get anything done when left to his own devices with her. She was a distraction, he seemed to realize suddenly. But she was far worthier of his attention than much else. Silverhawk wanted to lavish her in it. He decided immediately that her distraction was a welcome one. And then there was the assertion that she liked him so much it muddied her thoughts. Silverhawk could not help it; a purr rumbled out of his throat. When was the last time he had purred? He couldn’t recall. But it felt so radiantly good to be loved by her. Silverhawk was dimly aware of the bestial nature of his greed, of the animal she ensnared herself with, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. More selfishness.
Silverhawk pressed even closer to her, leaned in to slot his head under her chin. ”You’re precious,” he purred into the column of Bubblebeam’s throat. It would be so easy to angle his head just slightly, open his jaw and fasten it around her neck before she had a chance to react--not to kill. Not to kill. Just to taste what her blood was like. Silverhawk pushed his head a bit more insistently against her chin before pulling away. He did not go far, choosing to remain in her space while he sat straighter again. ”Now what did I do to deserve you liking me so much, hm?” His eyes squinted warmly and his head tipped slightly to the side. Then he was crowding even further into her space again, letting his words fall against the soft fur of Bubblebeam’s ear. ”And… surely you can’t like me so much as I like you.”
When he leaned back a second time, Silverhawk resumed conversation as if the exchange hadn’t passed at all. ”I knew you would learn fast,” he said approvingly. ”And you do have one of the best mentors in the Clan. Pineblossom was my mentor, too. With her teaching, it’ll be like you were raised here.” His tail swished, curled up against Bubblebeam’s flank and rested there lazily. ”Although…” Silverhawk drawled on. The corners of his smile grew a little sharper and his eyes glinted when he angled his head. ”It is a shame, that we weren’t paired together. I would love to be distracted by you. StarClan knows I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes away.”
Subject: Re: little shots of salvation (c) Sat 19 Oct 2024 - 23:26
All of this was good, too good. She probably had something to be doing--some duty somewhere, some attempt to get to know her Clanmates. Was it okay for her to feel this happy? This deep, irrepressible warmth and the flutteriness that only grew when Silverbird turned and lay his head in her fur. Surely she didn't deserve this. Was it okay for her to forget all the grief, all the pain that had led her here, and simply lose herself in the floaty sensation? She ought to have been ashamed, but instead Bubblebeam deliberately ignored her concerns. It wasn't as if she could focus on feeling anything else, anyway, because a purr suddenly rumbled through his throat and breath fled her lungs. They were so close together that the sound vibrated her entire form--or perhaps that was just her own purr joining his. She couldn't help it, not when he raised his head to look at her like that with glimmering green eyes that held the entire sky's worth of stars. She nearly dissolved then, but whatever composure she'd had melted away with his deep, reassuring voice saying such things. The word "precious" was enough to set her entire head aflame. How could she miss the sun, when all its heat and golden shine had coalesced into this form? She could bask in his light all day. And bask she did, selfishly enjoying the attention he paid her, soaking up his lavish attention like rays into her pelt. He was so good to her... too good. She almost couldn't stand his sweetness. Her head felt crammed full of the fuzzy feelings he instilled, crowding out all thoughts and all sense until her brain nearly burst from the pressure of it. The thrill, the heights of his love--love, the word nearly sent a shock through her system--could not be matched. She felt foolish, sitting here dumb and wordless, but every part of her tingled and rumbled with purring and giddiness and so even if she could open her mouth no coherency would follow.
Did he know what he did to her? How her fur ignited at his touch, how words failed, how she literally could not keep herself from blushing idiotically with all the blood in her body rushing to her head? The tickle of his words in her ear nearly destroyed her completely. In response, Bubblebeam turned and nuzzled her head deep into Silverbird's ruff of fur, burying her face so that she didn't have to worry about him seeing the frankly embarrassing expression of adoration and longing it bore. She wanted to retaliate against his words--to protest that she was the one who did not deserve him, and he did not know how late she stayed up every night simply hoping for a glimpse of him. He could not know about the daydreams that consumed her waking moments. How she retreated into the memories of starlit nights and heavy breathing whenever the sorrow or stress became too much. How if not for him, she may have fled the forest, never to return. But if she opened her mouth, she had no clue what would come out, so she kept it locked tightly shut. Hopefully touch would say what her words could not. She was purring too loud to hear herself talk, anyway.
Distantly she registered him leaning back, and his voice resuming a more conversational cadence. Though it was hard, Bubblebeam fought past the sensation of butterfly wings beating in her throat, and slowly drew her head out of his fur to meet his eyes again. Right. They had been talking. She had to clear her mind from being stuffed with static, but eventually, she managed to speak again. Hopefully her voice came out normal, instead of squeaky or shaking from love. She was such a bird-brain... how did he put up with her? The praise he gave, even in a more professional context, still made her ears twitch with pleasure. "I'm trying my best," she said, unable to keep from smiling. "Thank you. I didn't know she was your mentor, too!--but that explains some of how you became such a good warrior, doesn't it? Really, I don't know if I'll ever get to be as good as you, no matter how hard I train. If I could be half as accomplished, I'll settle for that. Though I don't really need anything other than to be here, with you. Of course I'd like to be accepted by the Clan, but... even if everyone else hated me, I'd be okay as long as you still loved me." Pale green eyes drank in every inch of him, even as she heard more than felt the beating of her heart. Was this the first time she'd ever said the word "love" to him, out loud? She'd thought it so many times that she could not remember whether it had ever left her audibly.
She was thinking of saying something else, too, a declaration of her own love since she did not know whether she had forgotten to ever clarify the feelings she harbored, but she suddenly forgot how to form sentences when his tail brushed against her side. Halfway through the start of a word, her mouth remained open, and whatever she'd been about to say fizzled out like a spark. Thank the stars her throat locked up so that a strangled sound didn't emerge in its place. But how was she supposed to talk, how was she supposed to think, when Silverbird looked at her like that? His grin so handsome, eyes gleaming with mischief, and he said such things. He had to know what he was doing. How else would he know exactly what melted her into a puddle? It took a few more moments for her tongue to untie itself. "...Yeah," Bubblebeam whispered, feeling simultaneously stupid that it was the only word she could say and also unable to care about anything other than his presence. She swallowed against a dry throat and tried for coherency again. "I mean, it's a shame, but... I get it. I'd never become a warrior if we just stood together in the forest all night. I--I mean. I wouldn't mind it. But I'm not allowed to be that happy all the time. I think that kind of unrestrained time with you, alone, would probably be an overload. Like trying to drink the entire lake at once. I'd die." Her fluffy gray tail shifted behind her almost hesitantly to twine with his. "But I mean, if it was you, then... dying wouldn't be so bad."
Subject: Re: little shots of salvation (c) Thu 14 Nov 2024 - 6:25
SILVERHAWK
The darker the weather...
He really meant it, when he said Bubblebeam was precious. There were few better words to describe her; her endless light, the sweet faces of awe and overwhelming adoration she turned on him before burying her face in his fur to hide. And her purrs, half so loud as thunder, rolling out of her and through him, unadulterated joy--joy that he caused. Silverhawk could not help but purr in return for her, though his was a gentler sound. Still, it was thick with affection and his own happiness. He almost could not wrap his head around this moment; around Bubblebeam. He could not imagine what he’d done to deserve this happiness. Peace had been stripped from his paws nearly every moment that he grasped for it, and he could only imagine it was punishment for his nature; but here happiness sat, pressed into his fur. It did not matter if he deserved this or not. He was too selfish to let this go.
Silverhawk’s head angled entreatingly to the side as Bubblebeam joined him in leaning away an in continuing to converse. He felt warm and happy under the praise she gave. At least there was someone around to recognize his talent as a warrior. Reflexively, he almost made the declaration that no one could be so good a warrior as he, but he could not speak the words to her. She did not deserve to hear them. How could he be cruel to her at all, especially when she spoke such devotion to him? The usual hunger he felt for her opened his maw wider. To shoulder the hatred of the Clan just to keep his attention--she was a dream. The smile he could not help but wear in front of her grew broader. And they were in the same position, weren’t they? Silverhawk could almost be alright with Bubblebeam--and Hawkmist--supporting him still. Loving him still.
She opened her mouth like she meant to speak--perhaps to go on about the particular use of the word love, as he couldn’t remember if either of them had more than danced around it, though he’d certainly thought it plenty of times--but the touch of his tail against her stopped her mid-thought. Silverhawk chuffed softly at her reaction. Precious echoed through his head again as he watched her faltering. She could barely even speak when she did gather himself, voice only coming out as a whisper before she cleared her throat. What was he to do with her? How was he meant to handle living with her like this, sharing closeness with her like this? It was almost too much for him. The thuds of his heart felt heavy with his affection for her. And the declaration that she would be happy to die, so long as it was with him--would she feel so content if he were to rid her neck of its throat? Would she thank him for that?
He wanted, terribly, to find out. And yet he could not imagine he could return to happiness in a world without Bubblebeam. What then? He supposed he and Hawkmist could bite and tear at each other until they both died, entangled, of their wounds. Hawkmist would kill him for that transgression anyway, surely.
Silverhawk shook his head and refocused on the moment in front of him. ”Not allowed?” He echoed in a hum as slow and rich as honey. ”And who says you aren’t allowed, hm?” He leaned in close again, nearly pressing their noses together; letting their warm breaths mingle together in the short space of air between them. ”You came to ShadowClan to be happy, didn’t you? So, be greedy with it. It’s yours to take now. And I wouldn’t mind the overload--the risk of my heart giving out--with you, either. Besides...” Silverhawk’s smile split wide enough to show teeth, and his voice dropped to a low, heady whisper. ”If it wouldn’t be so bad, then why not give into it? To me?”
