ghosts from your past. {dunesplash}

This was not what being a warrior was supposed to feel like, at least, it probably wasn't supposed to be this way. Slinking quietly across the all too open moors of his clan's territory, jumping nervously at every snap and crack he heard, not to mention all this was taking place in the middle of the night. It was nerves and stress and more nerves, and it had gotten worse ever since he'd become a warrior. There had been some lenience before, in fact probably more than the usual apprentice as it seemed Runningfox had never much been there for him. Heh, that flirtatious tabby could never spare much time for him, it seemed, when he was off with Orioleflash or some other she-cat so often. How often had the dark feline gone off training by himself? How often had he once more mourned the disappearance of his first mentor? The unpracticed warrior still dreaded his first true battle, when what little skills he had in fighting would be tested. 'I'm a warrior now, it won't be considered harmless play if it's ever discovered that I'm meeting with someone from another clan.' Just the thought caused the lanky cat to cast a nervous glance over one shoulder with green-caste eyes wide in panic. He'd visited Splashpaw -'That's probably not her name now, anymore.'- four times previously; two of the meetings had been at the glacier. The journey never got any easier, though. The fact that, as a warrior, his choices might be considered treachery only made the journey that much more nerve wracking.

As he stepped quietly across the white powdered turf, his mind drifted quietly back to one moon earlier. His ceremony had neither been particularly gratifying nor extremely memorable. He had done nothing great, there had been no massive praise from his "mentor". The young tom actually thought that Paintedstar had simply decided he'd been an apprentice for far too long. After all, he'd been roughly fourteen moons old already. He couldn't begrudge his piebald leader, though, with all the recent chaos. A battle between two nearby clans had made things tense, and then there was the reappearance of the former deputy, Ripplesurf, which had served to strain the poor she-cat further. He was glad she'd at least remembered his existence. Still, there was something saddening about the whole ceremony. Maybe it was because he'd had high hopes, dreams of joyful cheering by his clan mates and a mentor whose eyes brimmed with pride. The cheers had been there, but they'd sounded half-hearted to him. None had been particularly excited; likely he wasn't the greatest warrior they'd seen. Oh, it's just Dunepaw becoming a warrior. Still scrawny, still weak, not to mention he hasn't shaken those foolish ideals of no battle. Firepaw and his siblings have much more prowess. Hooray for Duneshade, our least impressive warrior. Sable paws stopped, snow crunching quietly beneath his paws as he braked, and lowered his head momentarily with a sigh. Maybe he was wrong, overreacting, but it never felt that he was much loved by the clan he worked so hard for. Admittedly he wasn't much to look at, still tall and leggy -although he'd finally grown into the spidery limbs- and with not much bulk on him. Starclan knows how long he might have stood there pointlessly, but his pads were growing numb and starting to ache with cold each passing minute. The near-black cat began moving forward again.

Duneshade raised his gaze toward the sky in quiet contemplation, doubt and worry nagging even as he sped up his pace to a trot to avoid being late. What if she didn't care for him anymore? She was probably a warrior now too. With her own clan to care for, and she probably had friends she truly wanted to please. Maybe there was another tom. Strong and handsome, and always confident. Nothing like him, a nervous gimp. The cat still wasn't sure what the silver-gray tabby had seen in him, although he knew what he saw in her. A beautiful she-cat who dared to be different from the others in her clan. She didn't live to be bloodthirsty and harsh like so many of the other Tempestclan warriors. And yet she was still skilled and strong in her own way, unlike himself; in his eyes, she was a gem. 'What would she say if I asked her what she likes about me?' He hardly dared to wonder, nervous at the many possibilities.

The warrior was through the tunnel now, a dark shape hard to see against the inky blackness of night only half-lit by the silver orb overhead. The frost of the glacier sent chills up his legs, his fur thin even in winter, but he ignored the trembling of his muscles as he spotted a familiar form silhouetted by the shadows. Dark tail arched over his head in greeting as all the doubt and worry momentarily drifted away. "Splash!" he called out as loud as he dared, not using her full name in part because he didn't know it anymore but also because he felt close enough to the other feline that full names needn't be used. He hadn't realized her distress at first, in his elation at simply seeing her once more, but now he noted how she was crouched over uneasily. "Have you been waiting here long? Did something happen?" Duneshade nosed her gently, part confused part worried.

As he waited for the she-cat to reply, the tom felt nerves tying his stomach up into knots, and those knots making themselves knots too. What had happened to distress his friend like this? Had he made her wait to long, got her nervous he wasn't planning on coming to their usual meeting? Maybe something had happened. Back in her clan's camp, on the way here, or even truly on the glacier, anything could have happened in that stretch of time. Could it just be their chosen place to meet each other? After all, the glacier wasn't the nicest place, especially not in leaf-bare when the cold winds and fresh snow made the chills worse than they already were from sitting on ice. As he thought about the weather, he could feel the discomforting pricks of numbness working at his paws once more. It wouldn't be long before he had to shift and start moving to get fresh blood flowing in his paws, and work his muscles back into warmth. It could just be the cold making her feel... however she was feeling, the younger warrior hadn't mentioned precisely what was wrong yet.

He felt a purr rising in his throat as he met that mixed blue and green gaze with his own yellow one. The golden sun meeting the swirling ocean of aquamarine. There were times when the warrior could only laugh, inwardly of course, about the physical differences between the two of them; made all the more obvious by the night. His own coat, swarthy and shadowy in the darkness, hers washed bright silver by the light of the moon. They were both similar, though, in their standing in their respective clans. Neither of them were much respected by their clan mates, they were different compared to the others. At least, they had been. Duneshade still felt as though he was, warrior or not, but maybe Splashmist didn't feel the same as she had previously. Doubtless, the tom knew he had questioned many times whether or not meeting the she-cat was the right thing and in the end always decided that she mattered more to him than his clanmates. Was the petite tabby having more trouble deciding what was the right thing? After all, she had family in the clan to consider, probably a better mentor too from what she'd previously told him of the half-clan warrior. Duneshade had no one, his mother taken by the sickness a couple of moons before he'd been made a warrior and his father having moved away from the clan at some point. As for Runningfox? That pale tabby had done nothing to make himself a father-figure in Duneshade's eyes.

Listening to the she-cat, he tried to gauge her mood by the slight smile which had turned upward on her maw. She seemed... alright, though he wondered if he saw a trace of unease in her features. There was no chance, however, for him to ask any further questions, as she had taken the reigns of the conversation for herself. 'Splashmist,' he repeated in his head, he liked the graceful name. 'Beautiful name for a beautiful she-cat. He felt his head bobbing in a nod to answer the next question. "Paintedstar decided that I'm Duneshade now." Not too odd, really, at least not when he gave it a little thought. Although it was dusted lightly with the fine snow, his sable fur still blended fairly well with the darkness of the shadows. What did it matter, though? A name was just a name, after all; if it didn't signify his being a warrior then it would make little difference what others called him. Once more the tom was struck by the negatives of advancing from his apprenticeship when most would be thrilled. There was a brief moment where the cat flashed back to his first days as an apprentice, when all he could do was eagerly await the time of his ceremony. They'd had a different leader back then. 'A lot has changed in these past moons,' the tom realized, unhappily, 'and not just myself.' Whatever the case, the warrior tried to shake off the dark thoughts and focus more on the cat he cared so much for.

"Me?" Duneshade replied with some confusion once more lacing his tone. It seemed Splashmist was having trouble keeping on any one topic this moon-high. There must have been something bothering her, regardless of whether she admitted to it or not. "I'm fine, more or less." The tom shrugged, his bitterness at clan treatment was nothing worth burdening the tabby's mind with. "I'm a bit more concerned about you. Seems like there's something eating at you," he added after a moment. He wasn't precisely sure how to go about saying, "you're acting odd today" in an unoffensive way. The tom was still considering how to approach the topic, when the intake of a deep breath interrupted his thoughts. Bright eyes looked up with concern as the words spilled from her jaws, quiet and soft and forcing him to strain to make sure he heard correctly. "I-I've missed you too," his own words were a low murmur. There was a moment's hesitation as he leaned over to be sure he met the other's gaze. "It's hard, isn't it? Going behind your clan's back to meet with a tom not even from your clan?" There, the words were out. As much as he feared saying them, feared the response he might get, he'd spoken.

Turmoil, turmoil. It felt like every meeting they had was the same thing. Doubts, questions, admissions; always being aired but nothing being done about it. It drove him insane, the way they always balanced so treacherously on the fine line which they traversed. He wasn't angry with Splashmist, no he could never be angry with the petite warrior for having her own worries. Duneshade was part of the equation that led to all this stress, after all. He could have walked away 'all those' moons ago - just as the silver tabby could have as well - and the two would have gone on with their lives, and never once questioned the strength of their clan ties. In a way, he blamed himself for any possible consequences. If, as an apprentice, the dark-furred tom had ignored his impulsive need to go see the Tempestclan cat then they may never have grown the feelings for each other they did. Of course, these were all simply possibilities, no way to say for sure that the two wouldn't have been drawn to each other anyways. They'd never know. 'Oi, Starclan, you cats up there must really like watching other warriors do stupid things.' The bitter thought lasted only a moment, it was too easy to blame others.

The tom watched in silence as his companion shook out her paws one at a time, likely gone numb from sitting so long in the cold snow. It might be good for them to think of a new meeting spot. The glacier was becoming a more and more hostile area as the leaf-bare season tightened its grasp on the land, and the nights were too cold for just a pair of cats to be sitting in a clearing surrounded by ice. But where else could they meet? He was unable to think of an option that suited the both of them besides this one place, and so he set the wondering aside for another time. Instead he focused as the smaller warrior let out a sigh, ears straining to catch the noise. Funny, almost, how he was afraid to hear whatever answer she had and yet so eager to know the thoughts that worked inside her cunning mind. Just another maddening irony. A pang of sadness struck him as she made her admission. But what had he been expecting? That she would shake her head and say, "oh it's easy, you worry too much Duneshade"? He was struck by the force behind her words as she continued to speak. Curious, but then, Splashmist had never struck him as the sort of cat to sit back and speak weakly. There was definitely Tempestclan in her, in that refusal to sit back and worry, no way she could simply be meek and calm and fret while doing nothing about it. ’Opposites do tend to attract…’ The thought, though amused, held a rueful note. She was so different from himself in some ways that he still wasn't sure why he appealed to her. She could say he was strong in his own way, but he didn't see it. Always in the back of his mind was that nagging doubt that his clanmates were right. He was a hopeless pacifistic cat, unfit for the lifestyle of warriors when he couldn't be trusted to hold his own in battle. 'Damn tom, you probably wouldn't be able to defend her if it came down to it.'

Filled with the angry, dark tumult of thoughts as he was, the sable warrior flinched as though shot when the last words left Splashmist. He pulled away stepping back a few paces with yellow eyes wide, full of doubt and frustration. Belatedly he realized his mistake, catching the flash of wary hope in those mixed blue-green orbs. I'm sorry, Splashmist... I didn't mean to. The words he wanted to say wouldn't form on his tongue. Instead he listened, feeling detached from his body, as all his frustrations were loosed instead. "I'm really sick of this, y'know? All the worry and the fretting and the unanswered questions," he growled as he spoke, head tossing back and forth angrily. Duneshade turned around to face the silver-gray tabby again. "I love you Splash, how could I not?" The burst of energy from his anger was gone. He spoke more quietly, heading still shaking, but much less dramatically. "I just... don't know how we're going to keep this up." It was too late for the tom to regret his words, they were on the air for anyone to hear. Perhaps he'd just had a bad day, the outburst fueled by irritation and thoughts which had been dogging him since he'd awoken. "I can't-" his new words were weak and strained, "can't imagine life without you." The tom should have been strong and valiant, willing to step forward and profess his love of the she-cat when she gave herself over so willingly. But no, he couldn't just do that. He was a coward. Weak. Useless.

ooc;; 1. Sorry this took so long. 2. Sorry it's so short and crappy, I had no idea what to write for some reason. 3. Drama-llama Dune is at it again. :3

Why couldn't life be simple? Was that so much to ask? A boring, plain life where nothing out of the ordinary happened and he could go on with his daily life with few problems. Some might insist that an uneventful life meant that the recipient of said life was boring too. The bold outgoings ones were happy to add zest and adventure to their days on this earth, or so they claimed. It couldn't really be worth it; not all the pain and distress. Anyone who said adventure was the key to happiness was a fool, tricking themselves into believing their life was better for the way they chose to live it out. Although, that meant Duneshade was a fool too - and he didn't doubt that statement. A fool for thinking he could go on with this she-cat from another clan, and believing that things would work out perfectly in the end. He could comfort himself with thoughts of how these ups and downs were just a part of the process, that they'd get their happily ever after. Lies and more lies to delude himself into living only for the moment. Go on and on until one day they made a stupid mistake, got caught, and everything came crashing down. At least they'd "go down" with some flair. Inwardly, the new warrior gave a humourless laugh. The world lived for drama.

He grimaced, catching sight of her widening eyes and the way she shrank slightly towards the ground in defense. Did she feel threatened? By him? Spider-limbed, never battle Duneshade? The idea of him possibly hurting anyone, let alone the smaller tabby before him, struck him as oddly funny. A laugh -a real one this time- at the thought bubbled up in his throat, and he swallowed it down quickly before it burst free from his jaws and only worsened the situation. That wouldn't do at all, to laugh after saying everything he'd said. 'Okay, Duneshade, you need to shut up now. Done enough damage.' Only then, with new a new clarity filling him, did the young warrior realize the gap growing between himself and Splashmist. Not just the physical gap, but the gap between themselves as, as... the tom didn't have the right word for it. They were more than friends. At least, he thought so. Still, they were distancing themselves from each other, and it drove him mad. The sable feline just wanted to be with her, yet his paws were rooted to the frost coated ground. Even when he saw the light dusting of snow fall from her shoulders as she shook, something prevented the tom from moving forward like he wanted. Whatever the younger cat had said he missed, he saw her jaws move to form the words, but they were murmured so quietly they failed to reach him. As it was, he couldn't say for sure that he wanted to hear anything Splashmist had to say after he'd ranted. Her next words, however, he heard all too well.

'Go?' he thought, uncomprehending. Yellow eyes held an unsure note as he watched the Tempestclan cat, wary. He could feel his spirits falling deeper into an abyss of pain and sadness as he listened. "Just, I don't think I'll ever be able to love any tom like I love you." There was a moment where the tom waited for a rush of pleasure. Someone cared for him, really care. And all he felt was empty. He should have stepped forward, moved up and rushed to the she-cat. Instead he backed up again. And a few more steps as well, gait made more awkward by his shuffling. Dark-furred head was moving left and right as he took a quiet breath.

{Maybe we're trying || Trying too hard}

"So you can't do this anymore," he repeated in a voice lacking any sort of inflection. It wasn't even a question, not him trying to confirm her words. They echoed in his head. Was he really going to say this? The warrior was unsure of what drove him to think the way he was. The words were slipping between tongue and tooth before he had another moment to pause and doubt. It was now or never. Enough with the tiresome worrying. "Then you want to end this." A grim finality accompanied the words.

{Maybe we're torn apart ;; maybe we're starting to fall apart}

Duneshade felt a great weight lift off him as he spoke, even as another burden dropped more heavily onto his shoulders. He'd been a fool to ever try and love a cat from another clan. Hopeless from the start. He bit back the anger, though it showed in his eyes, a sharpness in his gaze that betrayed how he felt on the inside. 'This is the end for us, isn't it? How could she forgive me after saying these things.' "I'll be h-happy to be done with this, I suppose."

{We're empty}