Territory WindClan Wild horses couldn't drag me away 🌾 Maremane

This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.

Merrystalk

And you'll say get up, get out of this town.
WindClan
59
11
Freshkill
315
Nickname
Merry
Pronouns
He/Him
Profile
TAGS
Rank
Gale Guard
Played by
Pheo
—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


The weight of the last couple moons had weighed heavily on Merrystalk, his conversation with Harefoot made it all the more obvious. But he felt... Lighter somehow. His mate had that effect on him. For once, he didn't feel bogged down.

But despite that, he still felt restless. The aftermath of his argument with Sassafraschill had affected the clan, too. The disappointment looks weighted on him even days after his and Harefoot's conversation now. Maybe... Maybe he might be able to resolve some of it. All his anger and frustration were long dead, and there was still exhaustion clinging to his mind from how upset he got. So whoever he talked to surely wouldn't be able to rile him up.

Merry paced the camp, and then the outskirts, and then further out into the moors. At some point, an idea had formed, if he was to start anywhere with resolving issues of the past, one cat came to mind. Maybe he was aiming too high, the distaine between the two of them had outlived the barn itself, but it was worth a shot. An olive branch.

Which is just as he saw the ever distinctive sight of... An old something to him. Merry never could quite tell what they were; it never felt like how he and Harefoot did, but she meant something to Merry. And that was what was important to him. "Maremane?" He called out to her, she often wandered out of camp and he knew as much, it was how he could find her so easily. "I- How 're ya'?" There was no vitriol in his voice, something she was probably used to from him, but he wanted to change that.

He wasn't quite sure what he came here to do, what he wanted from the conversation, maybe something as simple as civility. He didn't expect them to become friends anytime soon, but he wanted to leave the past to rest.

  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 27 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46
 
When was the last time she had spoken to Merry like this?

When was the last time she had spoken to Merry at all?

Avoidance was written into her code, wired deep into her marrow. Where Merry seemed to speak out, to confront, Maremane retreated within herself, loathing, resenting. He was everything out, she was everything in. The pressure around her facade was rounding it, threatening to explode.

The hair on her neck visibly prickled at the voice, her body acknowledging the identity of it before her mind could. Her head snapped to him, eyes wide with… something. Emotions she could barely pinpoint, debris in the tornado.

"I'm... okay?" she replied, instinctual. It was the small talk code, a response that was less truth than a proof she was alive. And for all the things that had happened to WindClan, their coldness withstanding the fire, maybe okay was just being alive.

Maremane watched Merrystalk for a long, drawn out breath. She was hunting for something in his voice, her stare interrogatory. Had he come to enact the same fury that he had spat at Sassafras? All she could find was something old, exhausted. Her chest was still alight with the expectation of a fight, but she felt her lungs loosen their snake-grip. Maremane's brows raised, surprise notching them higher.

"Actually…" the molly breathed out, awkward and low. "I don't really know." A dry, humorless laugh escaped her It was usually mocking, especially with Merrystalk in front of her, but she found only the same tiredness on her tongue. "It's been a hell of a season, ain't it?"
 
—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


The tom laughed dryly, letting his shoulders droop a little as he sat not far from the other. "Think that's 'n understatement." He was surprised to see her just as exhausted, it made sense though. They may not have ended on the best foot, but it wasn't like he didn't know her. They both liked to put on faces to feel more put together when everything seemed to be falling apart, really it's a huge reason that tore them apart. So seeing her let that down, if just for a moment, felt like an opportunity to settle things.

"Listen I-" He clicked his tongue, taking a moment to think before speaking. "I guess I wanted t' apologise." The words hung in the air, palpable like the air of tension the two always seemed to bring when around the other, but this time it didn't seem to cling to his pelt. Something had changed; in Merry, at least, it had.

"I know I ain't perfect, I ain't even good on the worst kinds 've days." Merry murmured, shame from the argument burning in his chest again, the vitriol from not just Mare but so many other cats too, seeing him act such a way. "But I ain't no coward neither, 'nd it's why I wanted to see if we could... Try 'nd be civil?" He shrugged, like it was an absent thought or suggestion rather than what it was, an offer.

"The last moons 've been down right hell, 'nd made me realise there ain't no good in lettin' shit fester." He admitted, looking to Maremane, not with the rage he often did but an exhaustion he had also been trying to hide. "I- I'm done actin' like some petulant kitten the moment shit goes south, I should never 've let Sass get under my skin 'nd 'm tryin' to fix what else I fucked up."

He let out a breath through his nose, another dry laugh. "We were both fools, said dumb shit 'nd did dumber stuff." It was bold to say as much, but he knew Maremane wasn't stupid and knew both had contributed negatively to the other back when they used to be close. "Ya' ain't got agree- Ya' ain't even gotta treat me like we're buddy-buddy, hell I don't expect ya' to, just... Maybe a clean slate. One less thing to feel like ya gotta deal with, cause I ain't holdin' any've it against yer anymore."

It was like a weight off his chest, he knew he had been rambling cause Starclan knows Merry doesn't know when to stop talking, but finally having that off his chest and that offer out to Maremane? It was one step closer to feeling less like he was fucking everything up more than he had, because at least he knew he tried.

  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 27 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46