Post by ♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 on Aug 3, 2019 20:36:00 GMT -5
Hell raising, hair raising I'm ready for the worst Despite the occasional drizzle, it was a beautiful day. Even though his mood had fluctuated to such extremes that Birchspots was certain he was losing his grip on his mental state, he couldn't help but savour the taste of heather on his tongue. The moors rolled before him in all his glory, vast and limitless. Borders only exist in our minds. He thought, repeating the advice Briartail had softly whispered to him during his time in the medicine den. The silver tabby tom spotted a familiar black and white shape moving steadily across the moorland, and a purr rumbled deep in his throat as he thundered after the tom. "Pebblefang!" He called, golden eyes bright as he drew near, his tail twirling in delight. He hadn't realised Pebblefang had woken. When Birchspots left the den that morning, the tuxedo warrior was sleeping soundly in their nest. Pebblefang turned to face Birchspots as he approached, and he felt a flash of confusion at the confliction in the other tom's eyes. Birchspots leaned forward to brush their muzzles together, but Pebblefang flinched away. Alarmed, Birchspots took a step back, searching Pebblefang's gaze. "Is something wrong?" He murmured, his voice heavy with concern. They had been comfortable nuzzling eachother for several moons now. Why did he seem so strange? Tail tip twitching with anxiety, Birchspots sat down. Pebblefang couldn't seem to meet his gaze, but after several attempts, finally managed to speak. "I..." He swallowed. "Birchspots, I'm leaving LightningClan." Birchspots could hardly believe what he was hearing. He sprang to his paws, a flurry of bewilderment and fear setting his heart into a fluttering pace. "What are you talking about? Why do you want to leave? Did someone say something?" The flurry of words exploded from his mouth before he could stop to think about them, and his paws were trembling. Pebblefang bristled, his green eyes wide and defensive. "There are too many bad memories here, Birchspots. Tawnybelly, my mother... This isn't home for me the way it is for you." His voice cracked, as though he were on the verge of bursting into tears. This time, when Birchspots surged forward to nuzzle him, he didn't flinch away. "If that's the way you feel," The silver tom whispered softly. "Then I understand. When... when are we leaving?" At the final question, Pebblefang did jerk away, mournful sadness gleaming in his eyes. "Birchspots... You're not coming." He meowed, and Birchspots felt his stomach churn. Something in Pebblefang's voice made a chill creep down his spine. "Briartail and Gorsebelly would be fine without me. I would do anything for you, and if that means I have to become a loner, I'd do it. In a heartbeat, I'd do it." Birchspots meowed firmly, his eyes brimming with desperation. Pebblespots shook his head, staring down at his paws with the most awful look of remorse crossing his face. "Pebblefang? What are you not telling me?" Birchspots muttered, frightened. Pebblefang backed away, his tail so low that it disturbed the grass where it lashed back and forth in agitation. "I... I met someone." Pebblefang told him, his voice barely above a whisper. "A loner. I'm... I'm leaving to be with him. We're going to go as far from the Clans as possible, and... and find a place for us to live, together." Birchspots felt as though the ground was crumbling beneath his paws. He stared in horror and confusion at Pebblefang, not understanding, perhaps not wanting to understand. "Y-you... you can't..." He stammered helplessly as Pebblefang became a blur of black and white. His vision obscured by unwanted tears. "Only a moon ago, you said you lov-loved me!" He finally managed to choke out words that were louder than a whisper, and Pebblefang winced at the volume. "How long have you been seeing this tom?" He spat, bitterness clawing his heart with cruel barbs. How long have you been lying to me? The world swam around him, a blend of odd colours and grey clouds. Even the heather smelled sickly. A drizzle of rain splattered onto Birchspots's pelt, but the LightningClan warrior hardly noticed. All of his attention was on Pebblefang, who he no longer recognised. Everything he thought he had, everything that only moments ago had seemed so real... it had all turned to dust in a heartbeat. "You can't begin to understand what I've been through in this Clan!" Pebblefang hissed, his black fur bristling. "From the moment I left the nursery, I was made feel inadequate and weak, constantly being put down and bullied into submission. Is it so wrong that I don't want that anymore?" Birchspots dug his claws into the Earth. "Tawn-Tawnybelly was my mentor, too!" He snapped. "Do you think my apprenticeship was in any way n-normal?" He thrust his muzzle close to Pebblefang's nose, his fur quickly becoming matted and wet in the rain. "And Tawnybelly is d-dead! How could you even attempt to use him as an excuse for... for..." He couldn't finish. He couldn't. He had known Pebblefang was acting odd lately. Pulling away, becoming distant, quiet, always leaving camp alone. He never once imagined that Pebblefang, the cat he had leaned on emotionally since he was six moons old, would be sneaking off to meet with another tom. Pebblefang flattened his ears. "I didn't want to leave with a fight." He wailed, his meow tight with pain. "Well, wh-what did you think was going to happen? That I was going to be h-happy for you?" Birchspots sobbed, then furiously shook his head. He couldn't lose control in this, he couldn't let himself cry like a helpless kit without a mother. Several moments of silence passed. "I love you." Birchspots trembled, his soaked pelt making him look as ragged and flea-bitten as a starving fox. "I thought we could make this w-work." He stared into Pebblefang's eyes, desperate to see even the tiniest flicker of hope. That they could try and salvage what was left. What was left of them. "I don't." Pebblefang whispered. Before Birchspots could draw breath, the tuxedo tom had turned and was pelting across the moors. "Wait!" Birchspots yowled, a sorrowful sound, like a wounded rabbit. But Pebblefang was already gone, leaving Birchspots to stand alone in the mists. "Please, don't leave me..." He whispered to the cold, heartless moorland, the hiss of the wind the only response he received. words: 1,065 / tags: none BIRCHSPOTS |