let's pretend [lily]

{ JETFANG }

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I'm losing ground | And still I can't stand down

Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
But it's feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone
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H[/size][/font]e hadn't seen her return the glance, or at least that was what he was telling himself as he looked intently away, eyes boring into the leader's den with spirit. What would it be like when she was leader, and slept there, no longer by his side? That she had already gone, her scent in his nose and breath in his ears as he slept, was heartbreaking. He could imagine her leading Vertigoclan bravely into battle, and addressing the clan as she had the past few days, as Lilystar. Lynxstar is so sick. It's miserable; like Lilythorn is already leader. It was unbearable that in one fell swoop, not only was their much loved clan leader dying, but he was also losing the beautiful deputy, Lilythorn, to the destiny she had chosen so long ago. No longer could they pretend they were young warriors, trapped in the wonders of youth, chasing butterflies. Of course all of these moons he had known somewhere inside himself that they would come to ruin. If Jetfang hadn't, then he was a fool, and he should have. Really they had been just friends, two cats that had grown up too fast, going on twilight walks and taking risks that they never could have taken alone. But it had always lain at the edge of something else, and when she had realized that she had to back away, just as he should have when he first recognized that affection, but attributed it in the wrong way. Clanmates had noticed it, but had done nothing about it; could do nothing about what the cruel fates had intended for them. It seemed everyone in the clan had known about how they felt about each other but themselves, having been hurt too much too many times to accept what was happening. Jetfang had told himself he would never take a mate or wish to, and all of these moons he though he had kept his promise. Lilythorn had set herself on the path to deputy as an escape from herself, and a way to make sure that no one else could destroy her heart. In the end, they had both failed.

A[/size][/font]nd just like that, his better thoughts were interrupted. How could he think, when she was breathing the same air, thinking the same thoughts, so few inches from him? So close and yet so far, she had pulled herself such a distance from him and he had been forced to withdraw as well. Lilythorn dropped a russet colored creature close by, but he saw it only with a flash of his eyes. Stricken by sickness, laying without energy in his nest, too little energy to get away, to protest, it was as if, as Jetfang slowly looked up at her, that he was saying, 'Alright, I give in. I forfeit.' Dully he recognized this situation, and felt like crawling sickly into himself, pushing himself back slightly from her as if he might become unnoticeable should he put a bit more physical distance between them. Perhaps they wouldn't need to speak truthfully, if he lay there quietly with complacent face and refused to acknowledge what was coming. Looking away with a bitter taste in his mouth, he shook his head at her comment about his needing to eat. Normally he wouldn't have refused the cream colored female, knowing she could very well force him to eat it. "It tastes like nothing to me. Might as well save it for someone else." He wanted to be short about it, but it was Lilythorn, and he just couldn't. Resenting the squirrel unbelievably, a gift that could not be seen as a gift, something they surely could not share, it was rather like the killed animal was taking her away from him, a best friend that had proved to be a rival in the end. Jetfang bit his tongue, feeling sour. He pushed the squirrel slightly with his sable head, relenting only because he could not bring himself to reject it. "Maybe later." Was all he could mumble in reconciliation, shifting his paws.




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{ JETFANG }

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I'm losing ground | And still I can't stand down

Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
But it's feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone
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J[/size][/font]etfang almost smiled as she exclaimed that it had to be now. He had thought himself stubborn and bull headed; and then he had met Lilythorn, who was just as equally unfailing and determined. She knew when to get serious and hold strong, but she was gentler than him at times; and he might admit that he, too, had a gentle side. Likely his softened characteristics were partially due to the deputy's friendship. So, thinking of this, he could almost feel faint happiness. But he couldn't smile, because it was as if gravity was especially strong today, and he couldn't twist his facial features past their desperately ill frown, nor could he stand and move away. Really, he had given in to the world's pressure around him. He no longer had any wish or use in running from it, and instead was prepared to see it through with a strong face. He was thoroughly numb to the happenings with himself and Lilythorn and the clan, though he knew that now they had met their doom's day. Jetfang felt there was nothing to do but fight it head on, instead of fleeing as he had been apt to do emotionally through the moons. Sometimes he didn't want to keep battling the sickness, consoling himself that he had had a long life. But he was feline, a creature of nature that could not toy with one's own death. His body unconsciously fought, even if he didn't want it to. His mind lashed out too; he had not had a long life at all. Lynxstar had lived far longer, perhaps double his age in moons. Thirty nine moons? That was nothing. He was hardly three years old, whereas elders had been known to and very well could live many more moons, even into one hundred. He didn't care much for that idea. Jetfang's destiny as far as he saw it was to die when he was chosen to die, on the battlefield. Not from some stupid sickness, feeling sorry for himself. He would watch Lilystar lead the clan; he would be there for her when she needed someone. Maybe he would never have any more life than training apprentices and following his duties, but that was enough for him. I am not ready to die. Starclan, Lily doesn't deserve any more deaths.


H[/size][/font]e sighed, and nodded. She was right. He had to do it for the clan, because she wasn't going to allow him to do it for her. It didn't hurt that she had snapped at him; he could take any amount of anger from her, it was better than not talking to her at all. What did hurt was that she retracted the nickname she had often called him, just the first part of his warrior name, Jet. It made him angry that the past could be erased so easily, their history forgotten, because of some stupid leader position. He could almost find himself angered with Starclan, for ever allowing this to happen. "Okay." He murmured, unable to be unhappy with her as he took a half hearted bite, pulling away fur from the dead creature. It was dry on his tongue, but other than that tasteless entirely. Lilythorn was silent, not seeming displeased or pleased that he had given in. What had brought them to this bitter place? The patch pelted tom looked up at her, asking the question silently, unable to speak. She let her eyes close, looking far more vulnerable than before as she broke down. This was it. That was all he could think as the light furred she-cat pressed to him, hiding her tears but showing far more to the few cats dawdling in camp. This was it. She was saying goodbye. He bit his tongue, mouth tasting salty with blood. "If I live," He responded quietly, "I... wish it could be next to you."
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