You're Awful, I Love You [Mocking/Magpie] COMPLETE Aug 30, 2017 19:53:47 GMT -5
Post by Zeneka on Aug 30, 2017 19:53:47 GMT -5
You could be the corpse and I could be the killer.
If I could be the devil, you could be the sinner.
It had been several days since Magpiewing's return to TreeClan with the little orphan tom kits he had been charged with looking after in RainClan. He had been rather surprised at how relieved he had been to see Mockingbird, his mate traveling with Gorsetail to fetch the three of them home. Despite how the greencough outbreak had made him realize how important his mate actually was to him, he still found it strange how seeing her for the first time in nearly a season sent a wave of relief through him, brought a genuine purr to his throat, unbidden.
Magpiewing was always in control, he did not just purr when he did not specifically mean to. Except when it came to Mockingbird, apparently. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was slightly unnerving to have his body reacting to things without his permission. But it did not change the fact that he was happy to see his mate, and to be with her once more. She was his partner, she had been for many moons now, but he had never imagined she would come to mean quite so much to him. Ultimately, it was highly intriguing. He was good at reading others, at predicting them, yet somehow he had managed to surprise himself with his own behavior.
With an amused twitch of his whiskers, Magpiewing brushed against his mate's gray fur, a soft purr rumbling in the back of his throat, “Hunt with me.” He brushed past her, his plumed tail flicking against her shoulder as he took the lead out of camp and into the forest. The light rain from the morning had since passed, the sun shining brightly overhead. He inhaled deeply as he set an easy pace, taking in the many scents the forest had to offer, thankful to be rid of the constant stench of fish and soggy fur. He glanced at Mockingbird, his whiskers twitching with some amusement once more, “Lionstar still being leader aside, I'm glad to be home. As suspected, RainClan is nothing but more of the same, with a different, far less pleasant scent.”
He thought briefly of the cats he had met, the ones he had spent the most time with. Brookfall... there was perhaps something there. He was sure they had both recognized something in each other, something none of their Clanmates knew was there, but it was hard to be sure, for if there was, Brookfall wore his own mask just as well as Magpiewing did. He was still vaguely curious about the former deputy, Rushwhisker, and his reasons for stepping down. He knew it was some TreeClan cat that was the reason, but the tom had been entirely closed off whenever he'd approached him, sulking, mostly. Something had happened, something serious, but he wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps his love had died in the greencough outbreak. It was the most logical conclusion he had come to, as he watched the tom deteriorate into a mess of a cat.
He pressed his nose lightly against Mockingbird's cheek, breathing in her scent as the thought of losing her crossed his mind. Would it devastate him? He didn't think so, but he kept surprising himself, so it was hard to say. Certainly he would be... upset. She meant more to him than any cat ever had, more than his own kin, his parents, his siblings. If any of them died, he would have to feign the sorrow that would be expected of him. Even when they had thought Berrypaw dead, he had been more disappointed than sad. But if he lost Mockingbird?
“I missed you,” he murmured, not sure why. He supposed he did not have anything to lose by letting her know she had influence over his emotions. It gave her power over him, but she had always had that, from the very beginning of their relationship. He had no delusions that Mockingbird could kill him quite easily if she wished. She was a better fighter than he was. He wasn't a bad fighter, per se, but he wasn't a strong fighter. He was good at strategy, good at predicting and reacting to his opponents' moves, he was good at avoiding being hurt, but he lacked the strength of many of his Clanmates. He could focus his blows on vital areas, but any half decent warrior protected those areas well, and his blows were otherwise... glancing at best.
But battle was his mate's specialty; her cold, ruthlessness making her all the more attractive in his eyes, exciting and dangerous. He had always walked a fine line, pushed limits, it made life so much more interesting, and with her it had become even more so. He pushed past the lingering sentimentality, continuing on through the undergrowth, “How are our kits coming along in their training? They should be warriors soon, yes? Well, not Berrypaw.” Their second son's injuries had required time to recover, and before that, his training had been set back by his disappearance. There was no chance he would become a warrior on time like his siblings. Perhaps next season. "I have quite a lot to catch up on."
You could be the drugs and I could be the dealer.
Everything you say is like music to my ears.
Everything you say is like music to my ears.