on a night with the setting sun (c)

Hawkmist was lost in thought, watching the twinkling stars in the sky. His paws ached from a long patrol, and his pelt was itching with an urge he couldn’t quite identify. He thought he simply felt rather restless. Both Silverhawk and Bubblebeam were presently occupied, so Hawkmist sat alone, tail curled tight over his paws to hide the way his claws were flexing in the dirt. This restless feeling had been growing and twisting ever since Bubblebeam’s arrival into Shadowclan-- no, truly, since her arrival into his life.

Hawkmist had known from the moment he knew of her connection to Silverhawk that she could only be trouble, and yet still he was grateful to have her. Seeing her bright smile every day brought a warmth to him he felt he was sorely lacking, especially as the seasons rolled over and the air once again began to grow cold. The sun, she was like the sun. It was the only thing he could think to compare her to, to give name to the feelings she brought him.

And she and Silverhawk could not be more different; night and day, those two. If Bubblebeam was life-granting sunlight, Silverhawk was the very world Hawkmist was perched upon. There could be no Hawkmist without Silverhawk. Even thinking that made his skin crawl with discomfort, as if anyone could peek inside his mind and see the thoughts inside and use them against him. He didn’t want anyone, and especially not Silverhawk, to understand the depths of his devotion.

But with Bubblebeam’s presence in the clan, Hawkmist could feel Silverhawk growing more distant from him. He could not identify if it was because he was growing closer to her or because he was simply lost inside his own head; either way, Hawkmist could not reach him, and that troubled him. No, more than troubled him. It was a source of constant obsession. Ironically enough, most of the time he only forgot about it when he was spending time with Bubblebeam, or when he and Silverhawk felt like their old selves.

A young, bright voice calling his name shook him out of his musings, and Hawkmist turned his head towards the source. Before long a tiny bundle of brown and white fluff squirmed through the crowd, and Hawkmist blinked slowly, affectionately. “Hedgepaw,” He greeted, voice gruff but warm. He hadn’t spent enough time with her lately, he thought. He’d been so preoccupied, but she was still one of his favorite cats to be around. Family, in a way his own family never had been. She was Silverhawk’s little sister, but in many ways-- in many ways, he considered her in the same terms. Or at least… something like a niece, or a cousin. Again, one of those things he could never quite give voice to, but it carried more warmth than discomfort when he had the thought. On pure impulse, Hawkmist lifted one paw and ruffled the fur on top of Hedgepaw’s head when she came close. She was still so small.

He tilted his head to the side at Hedgepaw’s declaration. With recent events, there was plenty going on that he could imagine she wanted to talk to him about, though honestly he had no idea how he’d handle it if she wanted to open up to him about something emotional. But she seemed cheerful, happy even, so he wasn’t sure that was the case. “What do you need to talk about?” He asked, dropping his paw again.

Hedgepaw was a purring, sweet creature with her big, bright eyes underneath Hawkmist’s paw. Which made it all the more startling to see what almost seemed like mischief flash in her eyes as her grin widened. A secret? What would Hedgepaw have to keep secret from him, especially one that she couldn’t share within camp? Hawkmist’s eyes narrowed as Hedgepaw’s widened, but he could hardly deny the way the pleading expression tugged on his heartstrings. It was hard to say no to Hedgepaw, he’d learned.

But still, confusion, bordering suspicion, continued to mount. What could Bubblebeam possibly have to say that she’d have to go through Hedgepaw to say it? Hawkmist had never known Bubblebeam to hold her tongue, at least around him. Did he do something to make that change? A secret meeting with Bubblebeam and Hedgepaw at the Pine Grove. Hawkmist knew trouble when he smelled it.

Hawkmist lowered his head, narrowing his eyes a little further in a more severe expression. “Just what are you up to?” He asked. He holds eye contact for a moment, then leans back again with a sigh. “But if it’s important to you, then alright. I don’t see why not.”