Private Prompt Event i am you, and you are me ✦ froststorm

[Timberfrost]

{$title} timber has a run in with a ghost (+the prompt about seeing your own breath)

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

It had been a cold day, and Timber couldn't help but feel on edge. He couldn't quite figure out why—as far as he could tell, there wasn't any discernable reason. All he knew is that there was a buzz under his skin, something crawling up his back, a whisper on the wind he couldn't shake off. The cloud cover ahead was heavy, but Timber had been awake since first light, or maybe even earlier than that. It surely must've been afternoon by now, but he couldn't quite tell with how sluggish the day had been going. He knew he was antsy though, and he needed to get that energy out however he could. So with the nursery checked over and all his duties done for the day, the chocolate tom slipped out of the camp.

Somehow, it felt even colder the minute he stepped out of camp. It's nothing he wasn't used to; there were plenty of cold nights with Stoat in the last few moons, but this cold seemed to almost cling to him. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, the tom pushed on further. He could at least tell it wasn't that cold outside, the small rivulets of water he stepped over flowed easily... but it didn't stop him from shivering. He hated being cold—warm meant safe, as his mother always told him. Keeping his daughter warm was what he always ensured, and it was something he could control and predict a lot easier than hunting going well or anything like that. It was a little ironic, then, that Sablestar chose the name Timberfrost for him, but maybe there was something there that the tom himself didn't see. Maybe he was a colder person than he thought he was.

Timber snapped back to attention as he misplaced his paw, the soft white fur sinking deep into the muck of the pocosin. Wrinkling his nose unhappily, he tugged on his leg and the paw came loose from the offending mud with a resounding Pop! Shaking his head, he peered up curiously to look at where he had found himself—and was quick to notice that he had no clue. His breath had begun to crystalize without him realizing, turning into sparkling clouds that dissipated into the air. It was fine that he was—no, he wasn't lost—that he had just gotten a bit turned around, it was far too easy to track his own steps back to where he came.... which quickly proved harder than he realized, as his trail had become strangely frosted over. "What in the..." Timber muttered uneasily to himself, surely the temperature hadn't dropped that fast?

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• @Froststorm :3
• 
  Timber
  ✦—Shadowclan Caregiver
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[Froststorm]

———— I awaken with the thunder, a bold statement to end my slumber. ✦

While wandering this plane was something of a physical toll on the spirit, he sought the living again and again. He couldn't help himself, seeing the clans in the formative stages, still getting their claws in the dirt and figuring out their structures and morals; what a time to have returned! Froststorm knew he could have his claws embedded deep into Shadowclan, and with his dear little apprentice at his side, he would surely help Fleecefur's influence in the clan. But he wasn't done picking his own champion, a little spitfire to raise to become a true warrior of the dark forest. Oh no. He'd noticed something interesting in his stints earthside.

Froststorm had assumed Fleapaw was all alone in the clan, an outcast, but he'd noticed a tom, a nervous thing but a gentle presence amongst a clan of downright hooligans. While these headstrong cats would benefit the dark forest, this tom stuck out to Froststorm. He didn't get to watch long, but there was a recognition, a familiarity. He was curious, so as he watched him leave the clan, Froststorm knew he had his chance.

With leafbare still digging its claws into the territories, his fog blanketing the area wasn't enough to cause panic in the stranger until he was clearly disorientated. Much like his dearest little apprentice, Froststorm padded in line with the cat's pawprints, his permafrost chill icing over the mud of the pocosin as slowly, ever so slowly, Froststorm felt his body grow heavier. It was rare that the barrier between the afterlife and the living was thin enough for frequent visits like the last half moon, but manifesting before this poor unsuspecting tom took him a moment to adjust to.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly, hearing the panic in the tom's voice as he noticed the frost following him. There was irony in this; Froststorm knew as much. He had a feeling the two of them weren't all too different. "You seem a little lost there, pretty boy." Froststorm purred warmly; while he was all for causing disarray within the clans, he needed to find some allies, especially those close to his apprentice. She needed to be kept safe, and what better than to have a check-in with her caretaker? He didn't want to worry the poor thing too much, though just by his own nature, it was almost inevitable, so he kept a far more relaxed demeanour. "Or would you rather just 'Timberfrost'."

- I want sacred, I want final.

I'm seeking it wherever I go. -

• 
  Froststorm
  ✦— Dark forest warrior
  ✦— He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦— A skinny, grey speckled cat with amber eyes and various frostbitten wounds.
  #CD807A