𓆝 . ° ✦
And so, the pair wanders into the wild. It is a decent day today, with a blue sky and a nice leaf-fall breeze; the grass is browning gradually, painting the moor a watercolor-like mirage of green and auburn. Plague does her best to remain cordial as they begin their walk, with her tail head high and a small smile upon her face. It is only when the boy
continues to speak of her past that her expression twists in the subtlest of ugly ways. The distraction, obviously, did not work.
In the right. A dry chuckle left Plague's maw. Not that she did the right thing - but that she was justified. What really was the right thing, anyway? She could have remained professional, allowing Hemlocke the distance he needed to be with his mate, to then raise her kits on her own, the prime example of a broken family in the Colony's eyes. Or, she could have did what she did, and raised them alone in a foreign world, never to fully escape their labels as outsiders. The opinions of others on this situation did not matter - there was no easy way. There was no
right way.
"I did what I had to do,"
the molly replies dryly, after some thought. Whether vengeance and justice was a factor or not - it was what
had to be done.
"Safer? Perhaps."
They were fed. They were warm. They had their mother, and Clanmates to care for them.
"They would be safe regardless. They have me. But.. yes. It helps to have a group."
But that's just the thing. The Clans were built on honor, and respect. They were built on law and code, of a mutual understanding that they were a functional society needing such rules. WindClan, in particular, had been kind and caring, a maternal-like instinct drifting between each and every cat. With this knowledge of
Ivory and her past being held by a young child, at the age where secrets and gossip run rampant, how long would it be until the truth of her exile was revealed? How long until WindClan realizes they have a cold-blooded murderer in their midst, and seize her kits from her to send her back into a life of shame and fear?
"You know... what you saw,"
Plague begins, slowing to a halt. They are atop a hill now, with camp miniscule in their vision from afar.
"No matter how.. right.. it was - it was still a crime. It was dangerous."
She looks down towards Talon now with golden eyes unreadable.
"WindClan would not take kindly to such information. How am I meant to keep my children safe if I am cast out for what I've done?"
She turns to look at the moorland. In all its beauty, it is still an unpredictable expanse. The distant bark of a fox reaches her ears, perhaps chasing after its prey or calling to its mate. Did Talon hear it, too?
"This world is dangerous. It is my responsibility to be a protector - for my kits, and even for you now, as we walk."
A troubled sigh leaves her mouth, part of her façade.
"But I cannot protect if the Clan thinks of me as a murderer. I'm not like the Colony - I would look out for you. But.. sadly, I can't do that if WindClan discovers what you've seen unfold. You understand, don't you?"
Her gaze, once complicated and unclear, now grows sharp and cold as she looks down at Talon. Plague could leave him here, alone atop a hill, until that fox or a hawk passing by catches wind of him. She
should, given all the power he holds in his paws, whether he knows or not. But if there's one thing she's learned, one thing she should have known before, it's that fear can often times hold more threat than actions.
"It seems we may not be able to hunt today. Not with a fox loose in the territory. It's a lucky thing you had me here to hear it, isn't it? Otherwise.. it could very well catch you, and WindClan would never see you again."
That eerily saccharine smile reappears, though her glare remains piercing.
"You remember which way we came, don't you? Lead us home, Talon."
A taste of what it may be like to be alone, without his protector looming over him. What may happen if they are
not in understanding.
-
ooc: —
-
PLAGUE — SHE/HER ・ 25 MOONS ・ QUEEN ; WINDCLAN ・ PENNED BY IXORA
a complex molly; timid and meek on the surface, but what dwells beneath?