JETTHORN. [deliver me.]

[/color][/size]looking up from underneath fractured moonlight on the sea reflections still look the same to me as before I went under

She regarded him, and he her, and Jetfang felt as if this was the storm his premonition had warned him of earlier. He was a bundle of nerves, divided, and his skin tingled, goose flesh spreading rapidly and causing his fur to stand on end in places. Lately he'd felt as if his life was like a cliff. He had started out several fox lengths from the edge, but with every mistake he crept closer, weakening. Now he teetered on the edge, in the grasps of considering his every action. With one more word wrong, he would lose his foot hold and go careening over, into nothingness. The dangerous feeling of standing on the ridge was less than pleasant, and again his stomach tightened in a mix of agitation, fear, and hunger. This was it. This was where everything came together. He could no more hide from what needed to be said than he could turn away from her, and physically, he was unable to do so. Jetfang's paws were rooted to the spot, eyes equally fixed.

and it's peaceful in the deep - cathedral where you cannot breathe - no need to pray no need to speak - now I am under

Her blue eyes slid closed, met with a sharp intake of breath from himself. "I only hope your words are the ones I wish to hear, Jet." His heart gave a faint leap. He knew what he wanted to say, but he would hold onto it until they were alone. His words were not for any ears but her's, and he wouldn't share them until he was sure it was the right moment. Still, somehow that moment seemed to be fast approaching, careening toward them with little mind for their surroundings. He hoped it would, and could, wait. Time seemed to be of the essence, but he wanted what he said to be special. It wouldn't do to be overheard by anyone, especially the likes of Pyrestar and the cat that would be her new deputy.

Tying up loose ends, for better or worse.

and the arms of the ocean are carrying me - and all this devotion was rushing out of me - in the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me - but the arms of the ocean delivered me

Jetfang still felt like a statue. For that reason, he was glad when the former deputy stepped forward and pressed her head against his shoulder. The brief contact loosened his stone-hard muscles and released him from his rigid bindings. He only could wish that she'd stayed close longer, rather than stepping away again. It would be too much to expect things to immediately go back to normal, and besides, their clan mates were watching. "You're more than I deserve!" He glanced briefly over his shoulder, feeling as if all eyes were upon them. Oh, screw that! He leaned forward and licked her shoulder, cautiously, before he also stood straight and away. "Hardly..." He murmured, with a sad but genuine smile. He resisted arguing the claim further, however.

though the pressure's hard to take It's the only way I can escape it seems a heavy choice to make - and now I am under

She glanced toward the camp entrance, and his eyes followed with ease. It had long been their shared escape, a distance placed between the pair and their responsibilities. "Shall we? I've no duties awaiting me right this moment, there's no wolf out there to stop us: it's just you and me and the chilly breeze." Somehow, her words couldn't have summed it up better, because they didn't pretend that none of it had happened, nor were they fraught with worry and pain. Jetfang wanted nothing more than the easy surrender of the forest, the pine scent pressing in on every side, and sky arching high above. He wanted to say so many things, to sum up his feelings, in that one reply. That nothing, not distance or time or duty or wolves snapping their jaws could stop them, even if each had privately believed it would. Even more so, that he wanted to keep her warm, and safe from all those things, if only he could. Instead, he mewed, "There's nothing I'd like more." It didn't seem like nearly enough.

and it's breaking over me - a thousand miles down to the sea bed - found the place to rest my head - never let me go,
never let me go

"Come along, Jet! Unless... you want to hear who Pyrestar chooses as deputy?" That thought caused him minor halt. He did want to hear who Pyrestar planned to choose as deputy. It struck him that the calico might choose Jetfang himself. But if she made me her deputy, how could I ever accept? He frowned. No, Jetfang had no wish for power, no ambition of his own other than to be complete. That was what Lilythorn could give him, and it was all he truly wanted. He was curious as to who Pyrestar might choose, but it wasn't necessary for him to be present. They could learn later, when they returned, whenever that happened to be. For now, it was too impossible a task to undertake, the stilling of his wild heart in favor of patient listening and waiting. He was ready to fight a thousand battles and run miles upon miles. Jetfang smiled. "It's not of any consequence to me, if you don't want to stay." He said, already rising to his feet.

and it's over - and I'm going under - but I'm not giving up I'm just giving in - I'm slipping underneath - so cold and so sweet - deliver me

Jetfang turned and poured all of his focus into seeking out Silvertalon with his eyes. When the cousins gazes met, Silvertalon bared his teeth in a half grin. Jetfang mouthed the words, 'Good luck.' to the silver maine coon, before turning away, and again looking to Lilythorn. So many times, she had led the way out of camp, as deputy. Now, he glanced at her, for acceptance. Then, his eyes snaked over the mass of Vertigoclan warriors a last time, and he walked openly through the camp entrance. For once, they didn't have to hide that they were leaving together. They were both free to do as they wished.
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