his pelt was as black as night !! DAWN !!

[lily ♫]

As she flicked open her emerald eyes, Flamingarrow could tell that it was almost sun-high from the slight humidity in the air. Weary as ever, she was thankful to have had one of the recurring that didn't make haunt her all day long. Instead, it was just the dream showing Chasmriver's ravaged body as the wolf's battle-hungry eyes shined with a malicious glint of hate. Beside the tom that she had loved was his sister's own obsidian body, and a bright ginger body, too. It was all three of them; Chasmriver, Abyssbird, and Flamingarrow herself. When she had the dream, her heart ached for the ease of emotions that death would bring her, but she refused to think like that. With no surviving kits or family members, she was on her own, loveless, but her youth still belonged to her, and it wasn't going away too soon.

Pulling herself up from her bed, she was shocked to realized the sleeping form next to her was the creamy-ginger deputy, Lilythorn, still asleep, and this late in the day! Something was definitely wrong. 'Maybe she stayed out too late with Jetfang last night.' Flamingarrow thought to herself, a slight purr rattling in her dry throat. Looking down at her close friend with her bright green eyes, she gently prodded the female with an orange paw, cooing her name to rouse her. "Lily, it's nearly sun-high." Were her words, but when icy blue eyes filled with pain and horror met her own, she stumbled back, falling into a sitting position. "No. Leave me alone.

[/i]" Whispered the deputy, the hurt clinging to the very essence of her mind, body, and soul. "Oh, Lily." Replied the younger femme, rising once again up to her paws and stalking out of the warriors den quickly.

Emerald eyes searching frantically for the black and white tom that would answer her questions, she spotted him across the camp's clearing, and she hurried across it. Waving her tail a bit at her apprentice, Wraithpaw would most likely be bothered by her ignorance of him and she'd have her ears clawed off by the male. Mentally shrugging, Flamingarrow planted herself to the ground in front of the tom she had seeked out, and stared strongly into his mismatched blue and amber eyes. "Jetfang." Her voice was almost an accusastion in itself.

What had happened last night? Had he forced himself onto her? Fear tugged at Flamingarrow's heart and she had to know. Jet wasn't that kind of a cat, was he? "What's wrong with Lilythorn?" She demanded, her anger slowly shining through in her urgent tone. "Don't reply now. Follow me out into territory." Hissed she, flicking her tail impatiently and her emerald eyes in full-on glare mode. She was going to get the whole story, even if there really wasn't one. Flamingarrow could be the most determined she-cat in all the Clans when it came to loyalty and friendship, and this wa sone of those cases.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Dawn]

* JETFANG

[/size][/font]
Like a star that's been lost in the big dark sky at night


He had never returned to camp the night before. Jetfang had instead wandered, listening to the wind and gazing into the shadows. He had run, hard and far, and then had only crept back into Vertigoclan camp at dawn, shamefully, miserably, tail and eyes low. The warrior at guard had not questioned him, had only cast him a glance that spoke more than necessary. It glinted with pity; curiosity was a ghostly shadow that lurked unneeded behind that. But when Jetfang lifted his head and looked at the tom, he had said nothing, and so neither did the tom on guard, and he passed through as silently as the early morning mist. Jetfang felt stiff and sore, an ache in his throat. Not only did he hurt inside, his body seemed to feel the devastating effect too, muscles protesting as he tried to make himself move farther into the shadows at the edge of camp. He was working up the power to go for a hunt, to prove he was strong and would prevail. Mostly, to prove to everyone watching and himself that he was fine, nothing had happened. And that was what was the salt in his wounds; nothing had happened. There had been no connection, nothing... and yet he felt it from across the clearing, a painfully sharp electricity in his stomach, even now. Jetfang hated it. He resisted looking up to the place he was drawn, toward the ginger deputy. He instead stared down at the ground and wished he could sink into the dry earth, flickering a black patch of shade for a moment before fading away with his worthless emotions.

How could I be so stupid?

He stared down at his ivory white paws for a while, and a voice that seemed familiar was speaking just out of range of his hearing. Tentatively, almost as if he expected something horrible, Jetfang lifted his midnight shaded head. His blue and amber lights stared painfully at a familiar she-cat coming toward him. For a moment he couldn't place the flame colored pelt, the green eyes that seemed to glow with accusation and anger. He only saw Lilythorn, turning and running from him with her apology. What had she meant? 'I'm sorry for leaving you in your own misery?' 'I'm sorry, I can't do this?' 'I'm sorry, I hate you?' 'I'm sorry, you did something horrible to me that you can't remember?' Flamingarrow. That's who the younger she-cat coming at him with purpose was. Flamingarrow, the deputy's friend, his friend, but only because of Lilythorn. Were they not friends anymore? He wanted to look away, but she was staring at him, clearly coming toward him and not anyone else, and so he held her gaze without expression. She spoke his name, but he said nothing, numbly watching her as she got nearer and nearer. Her voice mirrored her expression; perhaps he had done something, and hadn't known it. Was it something he said? Something he did? He though he had been the most polite of toms to her, friends, only friends, never more than comforting, never taking a step closer. But somehow, he had screwed everything up.

What's wrong with Lilythorn? He should have felt angry. How the hell should I know what's wrong with her? But instead, he wasn't. Just numb, hurt. He didn't know what to say; he didn't know the answer. What was wrong with Lilythorn? He hadn't known her as long as Flamingarrow. They didn't know each other's pasts, he didn't know anything of her's, she couldn't know his. None of that had seemed to matter... They were the best of friends, weren't they? Oh, and that was the sick thing of it. It was fine for her when she told him not to reply then. He had no answer anyway, had nothing to say. Even though she had practically yowled it to the whole camp, as far as his ears thought, that he was a horrible cat and had ruined Lilythorn's life, now she was saying he should keep quiet. So he did. Flamingarrow said, no, hissed, menacingly enough, to follow her. The large black tom would probably get clawed for something or other, but he didn't give a second thought, raising slowly to his paws and padding silently after her.

The forest was as beautiful this early morning as it had been in the purple twilight, settling over them and bringing them together, then farther apart. Birds sang softly, resting comfortably on branches high above the two feline's heads. The vibrant green leaves rustled with their movement, and with the silent breeze overhead. He didn't really notice any of it; and if he did, he didn't care. Jetfang only got a sour taste now, taking in the ground beneath his paws. We're out in the territory. Now what? Jetfang was the type to blame himself. It was his nature to think that he had done something, to want to take all of it onto his own shoulders. "I've done something horrible, but I don't know what." The black and white tom murmured, ignoring her angry gaze. Flamingarrow was just as happy to blame him too, so why wasn't it his fault? He added more quietly, "One moment everything was fine, she was fine, and then she was gone..." And then he fell silent, having stopped and settled on a patch of grass, tail lifeless about his paws.

[/blockquote]

[lily ♫]

The tom standing before her, now that they stood out in the depths of the pine trees that consumed VertigoClan territory, looked terrible. His eyes were as haunted as Flamingarrow's had been for the past moons, and he looked as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep. Nonchalantly testing the air, she noticed that his pelt smelled strongly of pine rather than the moss and needles that she and her clanmates slept upon each night. Something was up with him, too, and it was so blatantly obvious! Her anger didn't subside until Jetfang had finished speaking, and the expression on her face softened, flickering between confusion and sudden understanding. "No...no, Jetfang. I don't think it was you.

[/color]" Flamingarrow meowed, her voice as soothing as honey on a kit's irritated and dry throat. She swept her face of any emotions, and her eyes dulled as she was lost in her thoughts.

He couldn't know anything about what Lilythorn had been through. No one did. Flamingarrow was darn sure that Lynxstar didn't even know, and that was really saying something of magnitude for the leader, one of Lilythorn's closest friends, not to be aware. Shutting her eyes and pulling in a deep breath between clenched teeth, the she-cat exhaled in a large, shaky sigh before flicking her eyelids up and her emerald eyes burning into Jetfang's blue and amber gaze. 'I have to tell him. For her sake and for his own.' The she-cat told herself before she asked a question. "Do you remember Chasmfang?" She started, lowering herself down into a sitting position. Flamingarrow had never met the tom once, but Lilythorn had told his tale to her. She'd been so upset that day that the deputy couldn't hold it back. Not from Flamingarrow, anyway.

Taking another breath like the one earlier, she took Jetfang's silence to be a 'no' and continued. "I'm not going to start with his story, but with Lily's. She was born to Angelleaf, one of our former medicine cats, and a senior warrior. She spent her first moons in the medicine cat den, and by the time she was an apprentice, she couldn't stand the shame she felt from her mother's mistakes. Oh, boy, did she make that obvious.[/color]" Flamingarrow explained, a far-off look in her eyes as she visited a time before she had even been thought of. It was as if she were inside a time capsule, visiting her own past, though it did not belong to her and she didn't belong there either. "I believe you remember how much of a sharp-tongue she had. Her words were piercing and could make any cat feel violated. Except.. he didn't find offense. He embraced it, but she didn't know. She couldn't stand him.[/color]"

Pausing a moment to listen to the lull in birdsong that had all but stopped as she had begun telling the story, she licked her drying lips with her sandpaper tongue and continued, once more. "'His pelt was as black as night. So swarthy that you'd think the moon and all of Silverpelt had gone out.' were her words. He was a moon and a half older, and they were mates before they even knew it after they got their warrior names.[/color]" At that, the young ginger femme couldn't help but laugh. The story was so similar to her own, but the coming parts were not. "Lily'd gotten involved with a TempestClan tom before she'd reciprocated Chasmfang's feelings, though, and he couldn't stand to see her consorting with another tom. She'd been out late hunting one night and...[/color]" Flamingarrow's eyes clamped shut tight and her voice grew raw with emotion.

It was such a horrible thing to do to a she-cat. Especially one that had found love and a place to fit in with her Clan. Ruining her life and her mate's life, too. It had been hard for Lilythorn to tell the story, but now for Flamingarrow to repeat it behind her back. Atrocious. That's how she felt inside for revealing her friend's secrets, but Jetfang just had to know. "He taunted her from the shadows, whispering threats in her ear...Then..then he.. Chasmfang thought that they were his kits, he really did, and Lilythorn let him think that too.[/color]" The she-cat's voice had grown frantic and high-pitched, and tears threatened to spill out of her emerald eyes any second. "Chasmfang died protecting her as she lay out in territory, having those dreaded kits. He never got the chance to know the truth, and it was obvious. The litter was so oddly colored. Only one possessed traits of Chasmfang and Lilythorn. She was a pretty little calico thing, but she was dead from the start.[/color]" Her voice cracked as she spoke each of the heartbreaking words.

She shook as the tears fell down her face silently, and her mind told her to go on. To finish the dreadful story. 'You've gotten this far. It's not fair to leave him wondering, Flamingarrow. End it.' Sniffing the air loudly, the ginger she-cat made ehrself eb strong for Jetfang, who deserved to know the worst part of it all. "She killed those kits.[/color]" Her voice was so ragged, barely loud enough to be heard over the rustling among the pine needles and the other bits of undergrowth. "She killed those kits and picked herself up off the ground. She was an empty shell, and she learned to stay that way. She persued the position of deputy because it left her exempt from even being able to have a mate. To protect her from the rotten thing called love. And then..and then Lynxstar gave her Chasmpaw, to help brighten her up. It worked, and I helped, too. And now you're around.[/color] The last words slipped out so quickly, and Flamingarrow knew that Lilythorn felt that way. With the way she had acted, it was the only logical explanation left.

"She loves you, Jet."

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/center]

[Dawn]

* JETFANG

[/size][/font]
Like a star that's been lost in the big dark sky at night


Jetfang was more than surprised that she would absolve him from blame, but his gaze didn't flicker. He raised his head to watch her, as one might watch a wounded badger found deep alone in the forest, cautious, unsure. The same way Lilythorn said I was watching her- like a wounded badger- but it wasn't true! He had heard of Chasmfang, but his throat was sore, and constricted suddenly, and she seemed to want to tell him anyway, so he let her. He was as old as Lilythorn, and so he remembered, too, how she had been. Dimly, he remembered her parentage, how it went against the warrior code. But it hadn't mattered to him, it had never meant anything. They had never been friends as apprentices- their story would unfold much later, when they were both too hurt and numb to keep their guards up anymore. When they were spent, they would become friends, and that would change everything. It's stupid. The black tom thought again, gritting his teeth. I'm stupid!

After Lilypaw had become Lilythorn. Before she had been chosen to become Lilystar. Mates, he remembered that. Not well, they hadn't even cast a second glance at each other, in those days. Not when he had been so miserable, closing himself off to everything, not even able to stand the glance of silverpelt overhead. What's funny about this? Jetfang thought grimly as Flamingarrow laughed, his mood lowering farther. But he raised his eyes, an odd light in them, when she told him about the kits. He knew that Chasmfang had died, but it had never been told to him that way. So Lilythorn... had kits after all. He remained an observer, believably emotionless, though his heart was full of different emotions and his head was spinning with vague confusion. Everything always happened so fast. He needed time to think, to process all of this. But there wasn't any time. There wasn't time to sit and think about the future. Jetfang had to let it happen, and let the past rest.

She killed them. He had seen that coming. He could express no shock, because he knew her, now. Jetfang hadn't been left wondering, didn't need that confirmation. But, yet, how could it have felt, to kill her own kittens? How could she have done it, smothered out the tiny flames that were their lives? It had changed her. He hadn't felt that until now, but it had changed her. Jetfang shook himself a bit. That was a long time ago. Why, now, is she...? And he remembered his stupid comment about the Tempestclan warrior, and so it was his fault anyway, his fault after all. If he hadn't said it, so awkward, trying to make a joke when everything felt so serious... But of course he had said the wrong thing. When didn't he screw it up and say the wrong thing, just when everything was at it's breaking point?

Oh, Lilythorn! It's my fault. Jetfang listened to Flamingarrow, though her words didn't seem to phase him much. In fact, they skimmed over him like rocks over a pool, flew delicately over the surface. They created ripples that were thoughts, but the meaning behind them, and now you're around didn't reach him until the smooth stone sank beneath the surface. I was always around, Lilythorn. But you never told me you needed me. He wanted to tell her that, or at least her red furred friend, but he realized, moments too late, that she was still speaking. And so he wasn't prepared for what she was going to say as he slowly raised his mismatched lights to her emerald eyes. Jetfang's tail whipped out and spread pine needles away from him in an instant, his jaws parting to reveal the white incisors for which his warrior name came from. She had called him by he name Lilythorn often used as his nickname, Jet; and even more, she had revealed something he had wanted to be true, but hadn't known could be true. "But I-!" For the first time since he had learned the story, he spoke with a confused anger underlying his pleading tone. But I don't love her? That's not true. All this time, I thought she didn't feel the same, and now, is it too late to change things for us? Jetfang stared at Flamingarrow desperately, though she obviously didn't know his thoughts. Then, understanding, he sank down a bit and looked away. After a few moments of resigned silence, he spoke. "But what can I do about it now? She's the deputy. And besides... she won't even talk to me. She must hate me, now, Flamingarrow." It didn't matter, he would accept her friendship if he couldn't have anything else. He had always accepted whatever she had to give, never asked for anything more. But he had never needed anything else, and now... Things have changed too much since the wolf came.


[/blockquote]

[lily ♫]

His protests fueled her anger, and her tears all but disappeared. "But you what, Jet?" She challenged, emerald eyes alight with the fire that burned within her. 'Dear StarClan, have I done the right thing?

[/color]' Flamingarrow's expression faltered with fear, but she regained her previous emotion when Jetfang practically started wailing. "There's nothing that can be done.[/color]" She snapped, giving the tom an incredulous look. This wasn't all about him, but it was how he was most certainly acting. "It was her decision, and don't you think she's must have regretted it? Of course she has! Time and time again. Especially when she's seen so many of her friends die because she was in camp organizing patrols and sroting fresh-kill instead of being the warrior she could have been. Out there fighting off enemies rather than seeing the horrors they bring![/b]" The she-cat spat at him, her eyes narrowing.

He still felt as if Lilythorn hated him, and that's what destroyed Flamingarrow on the inside. Her next words weren't even meant to be spoken, but they burst out from deep inside her anyway. "Get. over. yourself. The only thing in this world that she hates is herself, so stop making this about you![/color]" As soon as they had fallen from her thoughts into her voice, Flamingarrow paused. Eyes widening, she raised a paw up and was about to step back when there was a rustle coming from behind her. Whipping about and staring at the small prey animal behind her, she let out an audible gasp of utter relief before turning about to face Jetfang and mismatched amber and blue eyes once more. "And you already know I didn't mean to say that, alright? I'm sorry, but, Jet, it needed to be said.[/color] The she-cat apologized, eyes softening from the stony look they had possessed previously. Letting out a long breath, she watched the internal battle that the obsidian and ivory tom had to have been fighting.

Peering closely at him, she realized his eyes were near bloodshot, and there was a certain air of fatigue about him. A thick fog seemed to have wrapped itself around him, and Flamingarrow could tell that he hadn't slept a wink last night. "You look terrible, by the way." Muttered the she-cat, looking away from him, feeling ashamed. She couldn't stop the things that flew out of her mouth unless she choked to death on them. The time she'd spent in MaliceClan all those moons ago had taught her to be able to reply with sharp wit and incessant insults. But, now, as she nearly tore the tom apart with her sharp tongue and murderous retaliations, she could only keep telling herself she was doing what was best. 'Someone's got to whip these two into shape, and it might as well be me.'[ The she-cat told herself once more, warily watching the tom for his reaction. It wouldn't be a pretty one, that much she was sure[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Dawn]

* JETFANG

[/size][/font]
Like a star that's been lost in the big dark sky at night


When he had wanted only to find the best course of action to help Lilythorn, she had simply jumped down his throat. Flamingarrow wasn't trying to help; she was just looking for someone to blame and tear apart for herself, and apparently he was it. He was usually the one chosen to take everyone else's pain and simply let his own stay hidden. He could never show his own emotions, because then he wasn't a good friend, or a good brother, or a good warrior- he had to listen to be sympathetic. And yet the things that had happened to him, rotting him out from the inside, meant nothing to anyone. It wasn't Shivermoon- that had happened too long ago, it wasn't necessary to continue thinking about that, no matter what had happened then. It was... everything. The secrets that he had kept, even when he hated not to speak them. The things he had to oversee everyday, the things that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do a damn thing about them. He couldn't change the past. And maybe I can't change the present, either. He couldn't be the one that all the others dumped their things on; he was loyal to himself, first and foremost. Once, he had been as loyal to Cinderfrost- Now, he was loyal to the deputy, or he had been, as best as he could be- but just like he couldn't change his past, Jetfang couldn't erase her's either. He didn't know what to do with everything that had been abruptly thrown in front of him, how he could sort through the rubble and make things better for them. But I can't do nothing, either.

Through everything that she said, he simply stared at her. His black and white fur was ungroomed, a thorn clinging deep in the fur on his haunches and digging deep with movement. His eyes were tired, a ghostly haze misting them, making him appear only half there- only half alive. Maybe his mind was somewhere else, where everything wasn't about worries and wasn't unchangeable. where for once he could be happy and so could the cats around him. Only his body was here, in the present, to listen as she, too, threw what battle wounds she could at him. Jetfang suspected she wanted to say more, perhaps only because she couldn't stop herself, or perhaps in a genuine attempt to hurt him as best as possible- but he wouldn't encourage her to. He had taken about all he could for today, was just about at his limit, and needed to be by himself to gather up the pieces and see what he could make of them. If I can make anything of these shreds, then I'll do it for Lilythorn. He thought grimly, claws sinking deep into the grass and earth underpaw. The tom couldn't let his anger show through- as he gazed at Flamingarrow, seemingly waiting for her to be done implying and saying that he was selfish, he couldn't be angry. His eyes seemed much older than those of a warrior in his prime, something about them simply too tired and worn to make anything out of his situation.

She seemed to be done, commenting on his appearance. Not only is my personality not good enough for her, I guess I don't look good enough for her, either. Will you tear that apart too, Flamingarrow? It was true, he probably did look 'terrible, by the way.' Most of his night had been spent in thought, or reliving the past. Neither the past nor present had been very pleasant, and his thoughts served only to trouble him enough to keep him awake even when his body yearned for sleep. It wasn't as if he didn't grasp that the deputy had killed her own kits, how hard that must have been. But he couldn't stand to be here as her younger friend, who had never even been there, clawed him raw over something he had had nothing to do with. "Flamingarrow," He said softly, sounding more like a leader on his last life than an older warrior, "Did you ever think that maybe my entire life doesn't revolve around other cats, no matter how much I love them, or want it to?" And with that he turned slowly away, glancing down at his paws for a moment. His voice was perfectly in check, as always, another of his ways of not showing too much. It felt like he'd been holding his breath, like he hadn't truly breathed in a long time. Jetfang drew air into his lungs and felt the tension release, blowing a very quiet but resigned sigh through his black nose. He breathed raggedly after that, the breath whispering through his throat, but at least it was regular. Jetfang worked up the strength to speak once more. "And I know you want to help," He added, even more quietly, "But I don't think I can handle anymore of your 'help.' Please just leave it alone."

And with that he was gone, not running but walking away from her with ears flat against his head. Only when he was a good distance away, still within the clearing but far enough from her, did Jetfang break into a run and disappear into the forest, not sure where he was going but not caring at that point. He just wanted to get away from Flamingarrow- and maybe, even more than that, he wanted to get away from himself.


[/blockquote]