Private vows are spoken to be broken — goldenroar

[DIMMINGSUN]

"I thought I'd find you here."

In truth, Dimmingsun had merely been hoping to find @GOLDENROAR near or in the leader's den. He had not been certain that the deputy would skirt the literal edges of WindClan's current problem: the lack of Dustystar. Emotions have been running high ever since the reveal; Dimmingsun is thankful for his own ability to keep his mind cool despite the circumstances. The need to take care of patients has certainly aided him in that.

Speaking of...

"You haven't come to our den for a check-up yet."

A simple statement. Dimmingsun doesn't hide the way his gaze roams Goldenroar's fur, searching for wounds that may or may not be there. It is likely that the deputy himself had not been too gravely injured—even if he can be stubborn, Dimmingsun doubts that Goldenroar would risk breaking the inevitable chain of succession by allowing infection or blood loss to take him. WindClan needs him now, much like the way WindClan had needed Dimmingsun a few moons ago. How similar their circumstances are now.

Dimmingsun allows a moment of silence to pass between them. It's reminiscent of the way Goldenroar had looked at him when the patrol had first returned—almost like he had been looking for something. Evidently, Goldenroar had not found it. Maybe Dimmingsun can give it to him now... if he can just figure out what the soon-to-be leader needs.

"Are you ready for the next steps?"

his voice is low, though there is scarcely a reason to remain soft-spoken. With multiple cats confined to the medicine den, and others either curling up in their nests in search of comfort or patrolling the moor at night in hopes of a distraction, the camp is more or less deserted.

"It will be a lot, that's for certain. But I'll remain by your side as your faithful medicine cat."

The beginnings of humor twinkle in his eye, but he doesn't find it in himself to get too carried away in such a grave situation.

"I suppose this is one way I can repay Dustystar for what she had given me. Even if she can't be here to see it thrive, I'm sure she would want me to help her Clan that she had built continue on."

NOTES
@/Goldenroar

 

[GOLDENROAR]

He's been lingering. His eyes haven't left her den for thundering heartbeats of time. It stretches on, the only noise in his ears. Was he breathing heavy? Was he stock still? Goldenroar wasn't sure it mattered. It smelled like her. He swears that from where he's standing, staring at her nest, that he could still see tufts of fur leftover. Goldenroar swallows, and it feels like talons raking down his throat. The bear trap is so, so tight, and he can't pull free.

Dimmingsun's voice knocks him out of his stupor. Aqua eyes drift towards the medicine cat who, by sight alone, is like a salve to his nerves. Cooler tempered then the rest- well, really, the lack there of. Their snaps at one another isn't lost on him, his clan. The wolves baying at one another's throats. He saw the look in their eyes. Those in the middle circled by sharks tied together, ones that were fighting to break free and others that wanted to go in for the kill. He shudders to think about it. He doesn't immediately answer Dimmingsun, but the second statement causes him to clear his throat.

"They're minor. Really, actually." He says, referring to the wounds that spot his body here and there. They're scratches, something that he'd at most perhaps take an anti infectional for, and nothing else. Silence fills the air, but the thundering heart beats are gone. It's their breathing, the nearly silent chattering of camp beyond where they stood. The whisper of the wind that still churns, even in her absence.

Are you ready for the next steps?

The thundering returns. It's his own blood, he's sure of it, aqua eyes widened and staring at her nest. Responsibility. Taking the reins. He said he would, but this is reality. Dimmingsun is going to guide him down the path to receiving his lives- if Starclan truly has them for him- and he's going to be stuck here. No escape. No walking away. Not like with Roostertuft, with Pike. Beginning and end. A circle. It will be a lot, that's for certain. The soothing balm is back, and his eyes are squeezing shut. He takes deep, measured breaths, and lifts his head to look at Dimmingsun. There's a length of exhaustion in his eyes.

"I'm not sure that I am ready." He starts, swallows the extra saliva in his mouth. "But I don't think I have much of a choice. She trusted me with this." He says quietly, and he doesn't turn away this time. "Fuck, I'm not even sure that Starclan is... is what they say they are. But I have to trust in this whole thing, right? It's gonna keep them alive, safe?" He says, gesturing towards camp. Windclan. Will it keep them healthy?

_______________________ I KEEP RUNNIN' BUT ☼ I'M STANDING STILL _______________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• GOLDENROAR he/him, windclan deputy, fourty four moons.
  ☆ a lh golden red marbled tabby with low white and glimmering aqua eyes. often seen with a smirk, confidence oozing from him in heaps, but always the ever-helpful guy.
  ☆ mentored by no one / mentoring dandelionpaw
  ☆ older brother to merrystalk and sunnyspring
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by laevatein ↛ laevatein_arx8 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  
  ☆ mini by tasmagoric, ref image by laevatein (yours truly!)

 

[DIMMINGSUN]

Dimmingsun is patient with Goldenroar. There is no reason not to—this cat will be the sole star in the sky for WindClan when things go dark for them. The two had been something akin to business partners before, forced into proximity due to Dustystar's trust in them, and now that middle man is gone. There is something almost exciting about the aspect of someone who is about to rise to unfathomable power. But Dimmingsun's intentions are not entirely selfish here; nurturing a good leadership with his future new leader is going to make the coming days easier, even if they are simple as a routine border patrol.

When Goldenroar does speak, it sounds like he is just trying to soothe Dimmingsun into a lie. He takes it.

"Sure. Really."

The echo comes as a tease and nothing else. Anything life-threatening would have become painfully obvious to Dimmingsun already. His skills are becoming better, day by day, slowly but surely.

He sits like he belongs on the front porch of Dustystar's den- wraps his tail around his paws neatly, like there is nothing odd about their placement. Their noses are eventually going to forget Dustystar's smell. Their instincts are going to stop expecting her stocky form to appear from where she had always addressed them. But for now... even if the two are similar in stature and height, Dimmingsun tries to subtly hide Goldenroar from the world—or rather from the gazes of cats who blame him, somehow, for Dustystar's death. He supposes there is some sense in that, in the way grief often warps your perception. Goldenroar is here; Dustystar is not.

Dimmingsun merely hums at first in acknowledgement, and waits for further input. His tail curls in interest; does Goldenroar not trust StarClan, or is this just a byproduct of fear?

"Neither am I,"

he admits.

"They have granted us gifts, and so far, they don't appear to be faux. The StarClan cats I spoke to before have been nice enough... I don't pretend to know their intentions, but they have served us well until now. There is little reason to start doubting them now."

It's not the sort of comfort that a friend might use, well-rehearsed and empty. Dimmingsun doubts that Goldenroar would appreciate soulless words. This is the truth, and this is their situation now.

As if making a further point without actively speaking, Dimmingsun doesn't budge, doesn't shift. Whatever StarClan might mean or represent, Dimmingsun isn't deterred. His gaze searches Goldenroar's expectantly.

NOTES
N/A