it's hot like fire when beating hearts collide }

[tallstone]

some people come into our lives and quickly go.
some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts,
and we are never, ever the same

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Tallstone never thought he could be this angry, least of all at northwind -- the cat that he had vowed he would always love through thick and thin, swore that he would be with her even when things took a turn for the worse, would stay by her side to raise their kits (even if it wasn't his), and would defend her from anything and everything above all else.

he knew that it wasn't the fact that she was willing to let cinderpaw go, let him run off to cometpaw and tend to her wounds, no matter if his wounds were worse than hers. he wasn't mad at cinderpaw, either, for being exactly like him when he was naive little tallpaw, padding after a she-cat that would never be truly his. Tallstone didn't blow up at the mate that everyone thought made up his world because he was mad at her. starclan forbid -- he couldn't be mad at her, not matter how many arrows she struck to his heart and how many times her neglect felt like knives to his throat.

but Tallstone couldn't see her anymore for what she was worth. All he could see was the fire blocking his burning gaze, flames shooting up between cobalt waters, and the heat shattering every form of his being . All these emotions that disguised themselves as a bittersweet love had suddenly came flaring up, revealing themselves for what they were -- it was more than his anguished pain - a pain that any man would feel as if they were burning at the stake - it was a deepset anger which had formed over moons and it was also a hidden jealousy bubbling deep within, threatening to leap out with real claws and real teeth. there was this very specific darkness that had engulfed him, that she had caused to form in his heart. perhaps it was hate or perhaps it was love - both lines much too close to distinguish by this point - and he didn't know where to turn anymore.

Locking his muscles in place, his mind suddenly filled with a very shocking cold, and he froze in his tracks, face flushed in deep frustration. He didn't turn to her, however. Instead, the tom let his eyes flicker over their surroundings, the rain pitter-pattering against his gray-flecked coloring, and his eyes, which had been shut tight as he ran away from her, fluttered open. Through a red-filtered light, the tom tried to think of where Cinderpaw went.

It was very selfish, the way that he wanted to go look for his son. His young, selfless son that reminded him so much of himself that it hurt was his only andidote to the burning hole in his heart. This was the product of keeping everything closed up for so long, this was the product of being unable to make Northwind fall in love with as he had originally planned to do and this was the product of his anger - not at her - but at himself because he suddenly wanted to die, fling himself off a cliff, do anything but face her after he had shouted those hateful words in her direction, with the full intent of making her heart clench and twist and throb like his did every friggin' day every time he looked at her.

Speaking of her, the moment his eyes fluttered open, he was met with the site of his mate, her face flushed in fury and it took a moment for the tom to digest the result of his actions, his paws wheeling backwards reflexivly. He breathed in sharply, not realizing how angry she was at him before realizing how beautiful she was, even when she was angry, even when she so clearly wanted to rip his throat out and clear reminder that his plan had failed because there was obviously no pain in her gaze for him, for him who had always loved her except now. He wanted to curse himself for feeling this way - the sudden rush of emotions the engulfed as it always did when he saw for what she was worth - and he wanted to look away but he couldn't. Just as it was, surely enough, with Cinderpaw and Cometpaw, Northwind could always do one thing. even when he wanted to hate her. even when he hated everything about her. she always took his breath away.

however, Tallstone blinked and finally put on a mask of careful composure, his eyes turning to solid blocks of ice as he glared holes at her -- which, she would not notice, was actually past her because how could you look so angrily, muster such deeply hateful glances at a cat you loved for more moons than you could count? His paws moved before he could think and he suddenly was face to face with her, his muzzle closer than he could ever think as he locked his frosty blue pools with her tantalizing green ones.

Flexing his claws, the tom burned his gaze into hers and let out a slow snarl, looking nothing like the Tallstone she was probably used to. He wasn't sure what gave him this sudden confidence, to disregard everything he felt for her moments ago and everything he felt for ever since he set his first eyes on her, but he shoved his face so close to hers that he could smell what was enticingly, impossibly her - a perfect mixture of herbs, a fresh tint of leaves and an almost sea-side shore smell that made his paws shake as they were doing now.

"and do you love him because he is my kit or because he is that damned loner's ?!" he snarled, letting out a rippling sound that was nothing like Tallstone had ever shown any cat before. It was a deeply venomous sound as he finally revealed the secret that he had been hiding for moons -- he finally admitted that he knew about Castro and if that simple knowledge wasn't enough, she would now know how he had kept it and put up a mask of acceptance over it. As if this thought was all he could muster, as if had drained all of his life's energy out of him, his face suddenly fell and he looked as he did this morning when he spoke to Cinderpaw -- like he was dead. utterly lifeless, incredibly pained, and impossible to keep contact with. he looked at her with a quick, forced smile before collapsing.

a moment passed where he was unsure of whether he was alive or dead, before he numbly gathered himself. he sat up, his back to her, and stared forward at the nothing that was there. he let out a deep sigh and recoiled to what Northwind, he was sure, was recognized to. he hung his head, avoiding her surely burning gaze, and felt his shoulders slump - his eyes not burning with anger, but with a secret pain. his muscles still tightened, but his face paled into a shockingly deathly hue, but he wasn't finished. "I mean..." he amended himself, before she could recover from the shock she would surely feel, and looked at her with a lopsided smile, almost bashful but filled with impossible anguish all the same. "you can love someone, give up everything for them, but that can still mean nothing in the end," he murmured, not sure if he was addressing him or her or neither of them. Suddenly, he let out a harsh, cracked laugh and it made him wince just to hear it -- damn it all, why was he so weak?

For a moment it looked like he was going to faint, but his eyes sparked briefly and through his agonized look, filtered a pale curiosity that could only bring both of them heartache in the end. "you said you would give up anything for our son," he meowed. "so give up yourself like I have for you." his eyes were challenging, but defeated -- only because he knew that she could not.

for a cat like her, it was impossible.
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[northwind]

Northwind

"and do you love him because he is my kit or because he is that damned loner's ?!"

It all came flooding back to her. Castro. She hadn’t thought about him, really thought about him in so long, tried not to think about him everytime she caught sight of her son, her mystery kit, and she would never know if a piece of Castro was always with her, even if he was not. She never expected him to stick around, and that was the beauty of it. From their first sudden encounter, he had never stared at her, transfixed by her mere presences, never stumbled over words of love and adoration that were fit to worship an idol that she was not. He never loved her. In a way that was exhilarating for Northwind, having to work for something for a change, imagine the thought! Castro did not hand over his heart upon the sheer sight of her, and she worked tirelessly to earn it. Nothing she did was ever enough. And that was thrilling, the idea that her beauty was not enough. And he eventually left her, pregnant, but not alone, she would be lying to say that.

Tallstone was always there. As a lanky apprentice, Tallpaw , he followed her with puppy-dog eyes, starving for love, begging for crumbs of affection accidentally dropped from her plate. It made her sick to watch, having done nothing to deserve such loyalty from her fellow apprentice. It’s not like he wasn’t a good catch. Smart, loyal to a fault, kind, well-liked, a good match and Northpaw saw that. Castro was if anything, the opposite, quick to temper, fickle, a vagabond, a complete rogue in all sense of the word, but, and here’s the catch, he was a rogue that did not love her. If she could, Northwind would surround herself with people who did not like her, instead of the wide-eyed fans she had always tried to patiently endure. And then when Tallstone stood by her, squashed any whisper of a rumor, she should have been filled with compassionate towards him, she knew she should be. But, finding no reason to justify his attachment, it only meant one thing to her, another affirmation of her beauty as it completely eclipsed her character.

Still, the surprise that Tallstone actually knew, knew and stuck by her all these years was enough to catch her off guard. She assumed he had heard a rumor or two, but never thought he would believe them, believe that his Northwind would be capable of such acts, fraternizing with a rogue of all things. The common belief. That because she was beautiful, she must be good. Perhaps that’s why the idea of a rogue was so compelling.

“Does it matter?” she asked coldly, her fur smoothing on her back as her previous anger froze into cool indifference that usually marked words directed towards him. “I love him because he’s my kit, regardless of the father,” she added, unable to mask the flickers of shock in her eyes that he actually knew, and, even more surprising, dared to bring it up.

And then his face fell, into a much more recognizable Tallstone that did not scare Northwind quite like that former visage that was both alarming and welcomed, welcomed after all these years of a completely smitten Tallstone that was, frankly, pitiful. He averted his gaze, cobalt blue, that might have been enchanting to her, had she worked for those caressing gazes. But he gave them to her so frequently they lost their value a long time ago. She did not remove her blue-green eyes from his large form, her gaze inquisitive when she knew, deep down inside, it should have been brimming with remorse. She surveyed him, wondering if this was the moment where he was finally going to break, to pull away from her, to put his paws up in defeat and walk away. That idea was foreign, and it struck her, a sudden thought, that if he walked away, would she love him? Castro did and it separated him from all the dopey suitors that came to call. She could start to see the cracks in his exterior, and, perhaps if she had been paying attention earlier, would have discovered them sooner. But she couldn’t help herself from continuing to push him, drive him away, and it was terrible, she knew that, but necessary, lest she languish in this monotone nightmare for the rest of her moons.

But those thoughts quickly flew away upon hearing his last words and her ears pricked at the sound, almost challenging, what, challenging her to love him? “How can you expect me to give myself away like that?” she demanded. “Just like you,” she repeated, barking a low sharp laugh, so unlike her usually soft voice tinged with genuine sweetness. “You’re right, I should give myself completely to you because of your good looks,” she said, her voice heavily laden with sarcasm. And it was true, he was a handsome cat, strong, able, but she could never see that. At least for her, beauty was not enough. “It’s so unfortunate I can’t be as vain as that, it would make our lives all a bit easier,” she laughed again, cold, mockingly, never tearing her eyes away from his features. For these words, she deserved to see the pain she knew she was inflicting, however true she thought it to be.

"If I could do that, I would. For Cinderpaw," she finally mewed, her voice softer now, at the thought of her son. "

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[tallstone]

some people come into our lives and quickly go.
some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts,
and we are never, ever the same

[/color]
If there was ever a cat that knew Northwind better than they knew himself, it was Tallstone. From the first moment that he had turned his pale kitten-blue gaze away from Dustkit, his cinnamon-coated brother, to the striking marbled she-cat that lay beneath Fernwing, Tallstone - then Tallkit - had been certain that she would be the one he would spend the rest of his life with. From the first moment that he had fallen for her - when the simple curiosity that flickered in his heart as a young kit, turned into slight obsession masked with undying affection for the beauty - the young tom had known that she would be the ones to heal any wounds, that he would fall for her in a different way then any other cat.

From the way the young tom with tabby patterns and burning blue eyes padded after the eloquent, untouchable Northpaw - his smile wide, his expressions soft, and his heart taken - rumors had quickly spouted about on how Tallpaw would be the first to make Northpaw fall, how he would be able to take her from her pedestal and place her gently on her feet with soft, crinkling smiles and gentle gestures. Now, no one was under any illusion that Tallpaw measured up to the illusive Northpaw in any way, shape or form. However, in the quiet way he approached her (in the much softer way he showed his love), cats saw the truth of his actions -- they could see how, unlike so many others, it was not based on appearances alone but on a much deeper scale than that. They saw the nervous flush of his cheeks and how it was not simple embarrassment, with a meaning that they couldn't quite understand, and a lot of the clan had hoped, almost uselessly, that she would fall for him as she should, as any other she-cat would.

Any other tom who felt their heart beat eratically and their cheeks flush without meaning to, in the moments that Northpaw cast a lingering glance in his direction, would immediatley think that they had succeeded in their efforts. However, over time, Tallpaw had begun to realize that they were actually in vain - how she actually looked over him, past him or even through him rather than at him, how her smile was so often reserved for those that did not exist and did not want it, rather than those (like him) who wanted it the most. His affections had started out as simple admiration for a cat like her - he saw her sweetness, her care in all the young kits of the clan, and how she did not really want the attention she so wrongly obtained - and then he fell in love with her for those rare moments in which he saw the real her -- her secret laughter, her endless loyalty to her clan and her son, and genuine sweetness that few cats have.

Cats do not realize what happened was in an entirely different order. He trailed after her, as an apprentice, because of simple curiosity (which meant that he could not understand why everyone was so caught up in her, and why he was not caught up, in the same way, as them) and because of the loss of his brother, Dustpaw, he had no idea where to turn to; his parents were too busy caught in their own lives by that point. Then later, with the revelation of his family lines, his mind was in such a jumble - this new information so twisted that it suddenly wronged everything he stood for - that he could only watch Northpaw, because she was still part of the old him, part of something that he still knew. Then the death of both his parents set him into a different sort of spiral, where he wished to recoil and hide but finding himself unable to, where he could only relish in watching Northpaw, a time where he began to notice her for what she was rather than her tantalizing appearances that made all toms melt when caught in her blue-green torrent.

She, like himself everyone else, had mistaken his closeness for affection and feeling strangely awkward, Tallstone had done what he thought he should do when thinking he loved her -- he had asked her for a paw in mateship. Due to her situation, she had agreed and a part of Tallstone felt happy, but more of him felt lost -- like what everyone wanted him to do wasn't really right at all. However, over a few moons of watching her care for both Cinderkit and Talonkit made him look at her in a different light. It was then, seeing her smile and laugh in such an open way for her kits, when she was putting on a play to make Cinderkit and Talonkit stop crying, that he actually fell in love with her. It was because of this that made him so happy, that he turned to her and confessed, told her he loved her for the very first time, but her eyes went cold and indifferent as she turned away to tend to her kits again. Then, Tallstone felt something break off, but at the time he was too happy that he was with someone that he loved to notice. Looking at her now, in all her fiery glory, the current Tallstone wished he had told her this before, wished to tell her the truth.

He watched her as she defended herself from his words -- feeling a strange coldness creep into his heart at the words that she loved Cinderpaw, not because of who's son he was but because he was hers. This only confirmed what he knew all along; she didn't know and didn't care and it had been Tallstone all along distressing over the fact that she might have been carrying someone else's kits. Of course, he hadn't found this out until after she birthed Talonkit and Cinderkit and after he realized what love actually was, but it didn't change the fact that he had made everything - in his twisted mind of his - spiral out of proportion.

His throat tightened further and his mouth went dry as she continued in that same tone of hers, inflecting a sort of hardness in his eyes that no cat would ever think he was capable of. Most cats thought Tallstone was a soft, gentle being - like a gentle giant of sorts - and such anger, such resentment, such coldness like the ones that locked his veins were not possible for a cat such as him. Northwind brought this out in him, just as she caused that specific darkness to engulf him and shoot up in moments like shattered flames. In the same way that Tallstone knew everything about her - knew things that she probably did not know herself - Northwind understood absolutely nothing about him and although this was his fault for not giving her information that would probably bring them closer - which he did not do, he would say, because she didn't want it even if he knew that he should have - Tallstone couldn't help but feeling a special sort of resentment and bitterness that was - and could only be - directed at her.

With an imaginary crack, his muscles locked out of place and he stood on the ground carefully, his claws threatening to flex out and claw the ground helplessly -- just like they did all those moons ago when he was considering his situation with her. He swallowed thickly, biting back the snarl that had begun to grow deep in his throat like a forgotten beast, and as cold anger froze into both his eyes and his veins, he walked up to her in careful, measured steps as he focused his dark blue tormented gaze one hers. As out of character it must have been for him - or for others to see him like that -, it looked almost as if he wanted to hold her to the ground and shake her, wanted to make her so desperately understand the torture she put him through, but he said nothing. The air crackled as he closed the distance, biting his lip as he searched her gaze for anything that would convince him from doing anything else.

"If that's what you think, " he hissed lowly, his breath slicing through the air like knives, as he padded so close to her that their pelts - sparking at the contact - touched. " You know absolutely nothing about me." He paused, letting that sink in, and pressed his face closer, eyes crackling frost. "Not that, of course, it surprises me that a cat like you ever would," he meowed in a voice that was almost like a sneer, if not that look in his eyes - an almost tortured gaze that was filtered through bitter anger and shock - that made most cats tremble in the same way his paws were now.

Using one paw to hold her, Tallstone raised an unsheathed paw close to her face, as if to strike her, except he only stared at her, blue eyes locking with furious torrents of sea green -- the same exact shade of sea green that always made his legs tremble, that made his heart shiver, and made him always think he would never fall in love for any other cat then her. In a flash, his composure almost broke and his eyes almost watered. His paws trembled and he turned away, whipping around. She could not see the bitter resentment in his eyes, nor the tortured pain, for that would mean she had won.

His back to her, he began to realize that his cheeks were already wet and that his resolve had crashed. He breathed in shakily, careful not to let her hear, and he wiped his face. When he turned to her, his eyes were dark again - and that same pain was filtered into false anger that she could not see through without noticing the honest love that he didn't want to have for her - when he faced her. "If that's what you really believe," his eyes flashed and he swallowed again as he bit out the words that every fiber of his being was scared to hear the response to. "Then why are you still with me ? " This time, his eyes never left hers and his face, colder than solid ice but filled with a sort of bittersweet anger that could fill up even the darkest flames, became shadowed.

His face was challenging, but broken, and there was nothing he could do this time do stop the words that would no doubt spill from her mouth. I don't know, he knew she would say, I'm leaving you..

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[northwind]

Northwind

There he was again. The stranger. A cat that she was certain she hadn’t spent many moons of her life with, hadn’t watched him mentor Cinderpaw, and certainly not the cat that had fathered the young lives growing inside of her. The tom in front of her with bright blue eyes that burned, that seared her flesh with one smoldering gaze, was frightening and strangely enough, beautiful to behold. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight, her blue-green eyes matching the intensity of the liquid blue pools in front of her. He held his form with confidence, his eyes alight with passion and fire, a new and yet strangely familiar sight she was sure she had seen before. She gasped out loud when it struck her, a shadow flickered behind Tallstone, took form in front of her eyes, a ghost from her past, a welcomed hallucination. An apparition with smoking eyes, a vivid tabby pelt, it was unmistakable to Northwind. Castro. As soon as that thought rooted itself in her mind, the shape withered and died, carried away by the wind. Only one form stood in front of her at that moment, that of her mate. This mystery, this unknown figure was alluring, addictive, she was scared to be close to it, yet it was too tempting to pull away from.

His words sliced through the air like lightning. It, and she called it "it" for she wasn't sure exactly what it was, drew closer to her, the air between them electrified. She stiffened, her cheeks flushed, as it padded closer, shuddered ever so slightly as a heavy paw rested upon her shoulder. With a flash, the other paw shot up, and, with her paws frozen in place, she flinched on instinct, her dazzling green-tinted eyes closed, but no blow came. She opened them again, face to face with the being she thought was her mate. His words, she reflected, had never been truer. She knew absolutely nothing about him.

Then, without warning, the spell broke, the tension in the air lifted away, and freed her from the hold his eyes had had upon hers. He turned away and he was Tallstone again to her, paws trembling, his back to her. His words, "Not that, of course, it surprises me that a cat like you ever would,", finally clicked in her mind, and now, they weren't spoken by the dazzling vision that was in front of her, they were spoken by Tallstone. The same love-struck apprentice trailing after, dumbstruck after a single glance. He represented all the chains that held her down, the weight upon her shoulders, and her eyes flashed furiously, that he would have the sheer nerve to say that to her face.

"A cat like me?" she repeated, her voice voice soft, laced with embers not quite lit, but smoldering low. "That's what you think of me. Vain, arrogant, so smug and proud that I don't have to associate myself with low-lifes such as yourself? Well you listen to me," she hissed, her muscles tense and her heart pounding against her ribcage. "You never got to know me, my dreams, my wishes, what I like, what I disliked. You sat from afar, staring, always staring," she ranted, her eyes flickering like fire. "But I don't know why I'm even surprised. I never thought anything else, never thought you liked me, loved me, for any other reason. If that is your opinion, you never stayed with me for any other reason. Just like everyone else," she spat, averting her eyes, staring through him, burning holes into her past that she was sure he could never fathom. "So don't you dare tell me I don't understand."

Then why was she with him? She glanced guiltily down at her stomach, for all he knew she was staring at her paws. Her stomach, rich chocolately brown, mottled with blacks and golds, carried her unborn kits, half hers and half Tallstone's and this time, there was no question about it. His eyes were on her face again, cold, waiting for her response, what he expected her to say was unknown. She was certain though, he would never expect the reason, or several reasons, that she was carrying.

She took a deep breath, felt her heart slowing to a steady thump. Don't push him too far, she warned herself, for while she recognized the tom before her now, she knew that without warning he could tranform into the beautiful passionate tom she had seen before, the spitting image of Castro. While she loved Castro, need Castro, wanted Castro, her mind was governed by enough rational sense to know that her unborn kits needed Tallstone.

Or did Northwind want that spirit to return once more? For a moment, she couldn't decide. That phantom that held her captive so easily, effortlessly, was not the tom before her. She opened her mouth to say something sharp, hurtful, perhaps enough to push him over the edge and she might see that vision again. But she quickly shut it, eyes flashing with guilt, that she could even contemplate such an idea. Not with her future kits on the line. And with this litter, she would not fail them like she had failed Talonpaw.

She met his gaze once more and decided, that no matter what she thought about him, what was true or not true, real or not real, she owed him an explaination, the truth even, as elusive as it was. The truth to their whole relationship was hiding like a scared mouse, she did not know where it was, or how she could find it. The only thing she knew was that she was pregnant with Tallstone's kits. And he deserved to know.

"Because I'm carrying your kits," she replied matter-of-factly, her voice cool, eyes trained on him, awaiting his response. Again, and this was becoming a rather bad habit, she needed him.

[cinderpaw]

{ CINDERPAW

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∗ -- no, this couldn't be happening. not to him, not to his perfect family that everyone used to think was ideal. growing up, he had always been told by his peers what a great mother and father he had. cinderpaw was constantly told how his parents got together -- how Tallstone had fallen in love with Northwind at first sight and pursued her through his apprentice and warrior years relentlessly, until he "charmed" her. both talonpaw and cinderpaw were constantly lavished with attention because of this, as if cats could not be so amazed that a perfect couple could exist, that such beautiful perfect kits could be created.

and when Cinderpaw had reached the point when he had finally began looking at she-cats in a certifably different light, he always made sure to look up to his father for guidance. After all, if Tallstone was successful -- if he had managed to woo a cat that seemed so clearly out of his grasp (because Northwind was not in any cat's grasp, unless they were some godly figure) then surely his son, who was even less average and less of a charmer than he, could make do with it. His father had manifested a hope inside the little tom's heart, that even without Talonpaw's glow to lead him, he would be able to fall in love and in return, have that cat fall in love with him.

Talonpaw often told other apprentices how annoying their mother was, and how shy his father was, how his parents were too dense and too stupid and really not good parents at all, but everyone knew that instead his heart, behind his laughing smile, was a real admiration for cats that he had thought made the impossible possible. Because, for that, even Talonpaw adored his parents for what they had done, and even for such a perfect tom like himself - who was as bit as charming, as perfect, as impossible - he could make his parents the heroes they deserved to be.

They did not know that Northwind was using Tallstone, that she caused a specific type of anguish to flood his bones ever time she looked at him with that detached, almost disgusted, sort of gaze. They did not know how much pain Tallstone went through - or for that matter Northwind, either, even in her perfection - everytime his mate sent him a indifferent glance, a sort of gaze made for only one cat, no matter how hard he chased after her.

There is a time in every child's life, when they realize that their parents play roles that are not always "mommy" or "daddy", a time when they begin to realize with shocking acknowledgment that their parents lead lives very different from their own, when they did not exist. It is this very same surprise that later shocks them when they are told about the pains of their parents - that perfection is not possible for even childhood heroes - and that their parents will continue to lead their own lives, even long after the children have made something of themselves.

but this was too early, this sort of situation was much too early for a cat with a heart as young as a kits, a cat who has already gone through so much confusion and pain in such a short span of time -- a cat like cinderpaw, who's had a heart that was both warm and soft and fragile, who had just found out about his mentors death, was constantly being turned down by the cat he loved the most, was constantly having repeats of the very same event that made him such a traumatic cat in the first place.

he was not supposed to figure this out until later, until he was well into his twentieth moon and he had figured out a way to make cometpaw swoon, to make her fall in love with him as easily he had for her. he was supposed to only understand the cold hard truth of his parent's lie when he had kits of his own, when he could take the wisdom in calm breaths and formulate an easy understanding of it all, when he reflected it with his own. some things in life come too early and cats like himself cannot grasp it as quickly as they should -- and this is the reason of the silent sounds that sliced the air, his shattered heart going plink-plink on the ground, when the words suddenly sank into him.

" m-mom ! d-dad ! " he cried, pushing past cometpaw to the source of the voice. it hadn't been long since he had been chasing after cometpaw, finding it surprisingly painless (probably because he was used to her yelling by this point for his idiotic deeds) when she argued with him, that he should be back in camp instead of stalking her like a mindless fool. he had thought, then, it had been hard to cope, but as he heard the venomous voices belonging to his parents echoing in the air, cinderpaw began to wonder if anything could hurt more.

his mother had her head down and his father was glaring at her with a passion that cinderpaw did not think it was possible, with such a strength that it made him shiver -- what was even more scary, was the hate that flared in his eyes, the outright defiance, as his father's mouth moved into words that cinderpaw could not comprehend the meaning behind.

cinderpaw pretended to be hiding while his parents fought, somehow finding a morbid curiosity in their argument even if he also wanted to rush out and stop them. talonpaw often joked to cinderpaw, when he was alive, how silly it would be if his parents fought, if they broke up even for a second and cinderpaw would laugh, grinning from ear-to-ear. "that's crazy," he would say in total confidence, gently shoving his brother with a paw. "they're totally in love." cinderpaw had no idea what he was talking about.

the cinnomon-plastered tom swallowed thickly, eves flickering from mother to father, but holding his breath. he had not heard what his mother had said, but it must have been something either strange or painful because while his mother's face was iced over with a cool indifference, his father's was contorted in surprise and then pain, biting his lip so hard that he would break skin. tallstone gritted his teeth, flexing his claws, when the surprise dimmed to reveal a bitterness that cinderpaw never realized his father was capable.

even before, cinderpaw was sure that northwind had said something to make tallstone look like that, nothing like the dead cat that he had witnessed only a few days before; somehow, this was worse. instead of the defeated cat, there was a creature made up of a mixture of swirling emotions, raw pain and raw anger, something impossible to mimic. his father had gritted his teeth into what ever accusation northwind may have or may not made, but his face was composed into solid stone, his eyes crackling ice that had made - when cinderpaw saw it - him shiver.

and then tallstone moved, not sensing cinderpaw either because he was too drawn in by the crackling atmosphere and the ferocity of their argument, or because cinderpaw was currently upwind. the older tom rolled his shoulder, casting a dark glare in his mate's direction and locked his eyes with hers, both mixtures of pent-up anger, crackling beneath the ice like turbulent storms. then: "then tell me this, northwind," he bit out, in almost a growl. cinderpaw watched as his father's eyes darkened. ".. do you love me?" he said, as if the answer was no cinderpaw realized, mouth moving silently, and his head snapped up, his own green eyes a swirling mass of shock.

tallstone had turned away, maybe to head back to camp, as if he did not expect an answer but cinderpaw wasn't watching. his eyes burned into his mother's face, wanting her to say yes but - as his throat dried up - realizing that she wouldn't. he waited for that moment, the air crackling tension, before he couldn't take it anymore and stumbled into the clearing, his face surprisingly wet with tears.

"m-mom? say yes mom," he whispered, eyes smoldering in the same way that his father's were. tallstone turned his head back to cinderpaw, eyes widening in recognition and shock. his jaw went slack, swallowing thickly and then his eyes went hard, as if he could not bear the sudden pain of cinderpaw carrying the same burden. knowing that nothing would pull cinderpaw away, he stood their in silence and instead swiveled his head to meet northwind's gaze. she was carrying his kits and for the first time, he wished she wasn't.

but, as talonpaw's presence joined them, northwind was suddenly faced with three almost identical burning gazes, instant reminders of the mistakes she made.

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"aww..." → fini → 1494 words

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[northwind]

Northwind

It was finally out. Her escapes were blocked, an alternate path hidden in such a way that even her vivid blue-green eyes couldn’t penetrate a way out of this one. While he had asked this question thousands of times in every love-struck gaze he had thrown her way, every careful loving caress, every soft word. And every time she had said no, in her silence, with her indifferent gaze of cool sea-green, with the way she pulled away from his touch, she had answered this same question every day since they had become mates. While it surprised her that he had the courage to even ask such a question, or the courage to endure the repercussions from hearing her answer out loud, it was not as easy for her to tell the truth this time.

Northwind had never loved Tallstone. But did she had it in her to pretend that she did, for the sake of her unborn kits? As much as Northwind hated to admit to herself, her kits would benefit, as Cinderpaw did, from having a loving devoted father in their lives. For a moment, she reflected, would it have been kinder to Tallstone to pretend all along? To live a lie, smile falsely at him, bat her eyelashes, return every caress and kind word. She knew she had those skills in her, but couldn’t decide whether he would have benefitted more from a harsh truth or a loving lie. His eyes burned into her fur, seared her skin, but she could endure it. It was no less than she deserved after bringing it upon herself.

But it seemed like she wouldn’t be forced to make a response. He turned away, as if he didn’t expect anything more from her, as if his heart had been broken far too many times to even stick around to hear her response, whether it be a half-hearted yes or a cold no. But something came along that she was not expecting. A rustle in the bushes, the flash of a fiery gaze, a familiar tabby pelt. Her mouth formed a “O” of shock, as she wheeled her head around to gaze into the horrified face of her son, the only reason that she bothered with any of this in the first place. Then with a second wave of surprise, words poured out of his mouth, sweet, innocent… he didn’t deserve to be touched by such deceit that had marked their entire relationship.

Her mouth was dry and her head was spinning because she knew now that her answer couldn’t be no, not in front of her son, the only thing she did love, honestly, truly, deeply, her feelings for him could not possibly be contained in a single word or even several words. Looking at her son, shaking and clearly shocked, her stunning blue eyes overflowed with love and pride at the son she saved, feelings she never had for Tallstone and that’s she sure she never could. For a moment, she could say nothing, eyes fixed on Cinderpaw, on Tallstone, and-with a gasp-if her eyes were not deceiving her, a third piercing stare that she hadn’t seen in many moons. Her eyes fluttered shut, basking in his presence, unsure of whether he supported or condemened her. Talonpaw…Waves of guilt washed over her, the son she could not save, her biggest failure. “I’m sorry…” she whispered, teardrops clinging to her eye lashes, sparkling in her eyes, trailing down her delicate cheekbones. These were private tears, and she was ashamed to cry them before Cinderpaw and Tallstone, liquid drops of shame she had been carrying around for many moons.

But the question still lingered in the air and she was not going to escape so easily. She wiped her face with one paw, straightening up to become the familiar Northwind, graceful in movement and flawless in beauty. “I…I…” she started, but her voice was hoarse with and she struggled to find words that would not hurt Cinderpaw. “Well I have a lot of…um…respect…I appreciate…” she mumbled, her words not quite forming coherent sentences, such a dramatic movment away from the eloquent and confident Northwind that Cinderpaw was used to. In any case, this babbling she-cat was nowhere near the mother, Northwind was sure he thought she was. “but that shouldn’t even have to be discussed,” she said with an airy laugh, as if the whole situation was comical and absurd. “We are together aren’t we?” she added, as if that answered everything, every burning question that Tallstone had left unspoken.

“We should be getting back to camp anyway, what, with Hawkshadow’s killer on the loose. And you Cinderpaw, please be careful and don’t leave camp without another. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt,” she commented, her voice much less shaky and more of her old self, ringing with sincere compassion for her only son. She got up, brushing her pelt off and without so much as a second glance to Tallstone, starting padding back to camp. She wasn’t sure about how he felt about this whole ordeal, but as much as he potentially wanted to change things, it’s not like he had the courage to do anything about it. Where would he have to turn?