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Early morning mist hung low over WaterClan territory, the watery spring sunlight filtering through the wispy clouds and turning the world to golden dew and glittering streams. It would be pretty — if it weren't so wet. Doefreckle wrinkled his nose and lifted a paw gingerly to look at the muddy, sodden fur clinging to his bones. It's fine, he thought. It's fine. It's lovely. I love my life. Everything is magical. May as well, like, actually just murder me, but it's fine. He wiped his paw on afallen log with hissing little groan and picked his way onwards towards the camp. Technically speaking, he should have waited at the border for a patrol to escort him into the heart of the territory, particularly given the recent events in the Clan — but a string of ill-fated dalliances had left within him a rocky-at-best understanding of proper etiquette, and, more often than not, he simply forgot that most cats didn't simply wander onto other Clans' territories and make themselves at home. So... that was good! What could possibly go at all wrong?
Plastering a huge, sunny grin onto his face, he moved to pad into the camp— and stopped dead, one paw still in the air. The grin still on his face, his eyes widened. "What am I doing," he squealed through his still-smiling teeth; he let out a nervous, strangled laugh and scurried backwards, out of sight. The grin fell for a moment as he sat down and hyper-ventilated for a bit — and then it was back, as sweet and cheerful as ever. "Hi!" he purred, "I'm the new— no, okay, hi, my name's Doefreckle, I'm—" He shuffled his paws in frustration and let out a half-laughing, half-panicked little squeal, stretching his grin wider. "Hello! Greetings! I am Doefreckle! I'm— ah, it'll be fine." He bounced to his paws, giving his chest fur a few last licks, and stepped towards the camp entrance.
The lean ginger tom sprawled back from the center of the camp on his right side, tail drumming absently on the ground. He had filled in recently, his ragged coat strong over his sides so his ribs no longer showed beneath his fur, but even healthy he was hardly intimidating, and even as he glanced toward the other he was careful to keep his face angled away from the newcomer to limit exposure of the deep scars that had taken out his right eye. He was curious, and he wanted to meet this strange cat, not scare him. There would be plenty of time for that later if he liked. One of his warriors had seen Doefreckle coming and reported back, but it was unusual for a warrior to trespass this far into the territory, and Chim had always been a little more lenient with borders than most.
He arched a brow as the deputy stepped into the cave and glanced over him, skeptical. Doefreckle didn't look like much of a threat, so if this stranger was the best SummerClan had to spare, he wasn't worried. "How kind of you to join us today. Do you want some prey? Unfortunately we didn't have time to prepare a nest for you to rest in today - perhaps next time, with some advance notice." His voice was sharp and vaguely annoyed, vaguely amused.
Doefreckle had been too busy gazing curiously around the foreign camp, far more wide-eyed kit than deputy, to notice the leader sprawled out in the centre of it. It had a strange sort of smell, damp and vaguely mildew-y.
How kind of you to join us today.
He startled when Chimerastar spoke, scrabbling backwards like he'd been caught doing something he oughtn't to have been doing. At the faint annoyance in Chimerastar's voice, he smiled, somewhere between cheerful warmth and playful slyness, and took a few limping steps forward. "Chimerastar," he greeted, leaning his weight onto one forepaw and gesturing towards the leader with the other, chin tucked into his chest. "No, yes, you're quite right — it is short notice and I am trespassing, but! There is very good reason, and that very good reason, my handsome friend, is that I, Doefreckle, am the new deputy of SummerClan — I know, I know, please, hold the applause."
His smile grew to a sunny, harmless grin and he dropped his paw to limp over to Chimerastar, ignoring the uncertain looks of the warriors and the protocol that surely dictated one should wait to be offered a seat by the leader before making oneself at home. He sat down in front of him and wrapped his tail neatly around his paws; it flicked a few times without him realising and tapped the leader on the nose. Doefreckle's posture relaxed from visiting official to casual acquaintance, and his voice from show-off ringmaster to soft sunshine. "You don't have to hide your scars, you know," he added quietly, without taking his eyes from Chimerastar's. He lifted his own deformed foreleg, shook it so the paw wobbled at an unnatural angle, and glanced back up at Chimerastar with a mock-disgusted expression, tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Pretty gross, huh? But we've all got our own little issues — doesn't make you any less of anything."
Now why were cats so fixated on calling him handsome? Did they think he'd be flattered? Scrawny ugly old beaten up thing, probably thought he'd never heard that pretty lie before, thought they'd make him feel special and go soft on them. Well, he wasn't about to forgive trespassing just because of one little comment, and if Doefreckle wanted special treatment he should at least try a compliment that could be true. Chim shot him an exasperated look that grew no more lenient as the deputy moved closer.
A tap on the nose, a sweet comment about his scars, yeah, this meeting was over. He was not about to get distracted by another bumbling soft tom, he had actual work to do. The leader rose abruptly and glared down at Doefreckle, hard and cold, legs stiff and lip curled, threatening to show his teeth. "My deputy has issues too, two of them. Her teeth may look ghastly but I assure you they work quite well, would you like to find out? I'm sure you know what I mean, she was your deputy before she was mine, so you must have seen her." He wondered briefly if that was the reason this new deputy had journeyed all this way to meet them: because he wanted to face down the cat he'd replaced and maybe leave a threat or two. Unfortunately, perhaps luckily because she would never stop mocking him if she knew how easily flustered her leader was, Tuskblood was out of camp.
"Ravenstar didn't send you all this way as a trade, did she? A kind offer, but you might as well turn back now, she won't be getting her deputy back." His tail waved dismissively as he stepped to the side, keeping his face angled away out of habit despite the other's comment. While he seriously doubted Ravenstar would ever propose such a thing, he also didn't understand why Doefreckle had come all this way, and he was not exactly a patient cat. Especially when his clan was watching him, probably just waiting for a moment to undermine him again as they had once been so fond of doing. He coyld'nr say he blamed them, for all his theatrics he wasn't sure how to handle this situation.
Okay, well, misjudged that one! Doefreckle stepped backwards warily as the leader stood, expression momentarily frightened, and allowed a safe distance to open between them. After a few beats of silence and uncertain, wide-eyed staring, he tried another smile, this one more apologetic. “No, yes, forgive me, I can see I’ve overstepped — I admit I’m still getting used to all the rules and protocols that come with these higher stations.”
When Chimerastar’s voice hardened, Doefreckle let the smile slip from his face. It didn’t feel natural, facing another cat without much outwards friendliness from himself, but a lot about being deputy felt unnatural. When he spoke again, his voice was more serious. “I can assure you, my visit has nothing to do with Ravenstar and certainly nothing to do with Tuskblood. She was before my time. I am here purely as a courtesy to you and you alone, Chimerastar, and I apologise if I haven’t made that clear. With all that has happened between our two Clans recently, even if I haven’t been a part of it, I wanted to formally introduce myself, as an ally and friend, and put myself at your mercy, without warriors or escorts. I am no threat to you, nor is SummerClan, and I hope that, if StarClan ever sees fit to grant me the honour of leadership, we may live together in peace, without any of the bad blood of moons past.”
He held Chimerastar’s gaze for a long moment before dipping his head respectfully, showing his delicate spine in a show of trust. When he raised his head again, he was stoic for a moment longer before breaking into a smile, voice gentle. “Do-over? I’m Doefreckle, new deputy of SummerClan, and it really is lovely to meet you.”
Doefreckle was finally taking things seriously. Good. It was unusual for a deputy to come introduce themselves to the other clans, especially without the permission or order of their leader, but at least he had come in good faith. It took a lot of trust or very little intelligence to come alone to an enemy clan and offer himself up like this, but it earned Chim's respect. He had no desire to fight with SummerClan and if all he had to do to make peace was play along with this deputy, it was an easy choice.
His expression remained guarded as he searched Doefreckle's gaze for a hint of malice or anger, but finding nothing to indicate a lie, he inclined his head slightly in return. "Welcome to WaterClan, Doefreckle. You must have had a long journey here; take some prey if you'd like and rest until you're prepared to head out again. I wouldn't want to start this relationship off on the wrong paw." This time his offer was genuine. It was polite, a show of goodwill, and the closest he'd come to agreeing to anything. Chim didn't like formal alliances or agreements, he was too suspicious the other clans would betray them like they had in the past, but he was willing to accept Doefreckle for now and see how long this peace would last.
"I do hope you like fish, but if you prefer something else to eat, I'll send out a hunter." His half gaze caught firmly on one of his warriors as they started to protest, and then the leader left himself to go get something to eat. Doefreckle was free to leave if he liked but Chim suspected he'd stay and talk longer, he seemed a cat of many words, and he was going to need a full belly if he had to deal with chatter. He took a baby roach off the pile and retreated in front of his den to eat it.
Doefreckle waited in a silence that was equal parts tense hope and nerves until Chimerastar finally returned the nod; then, he broke into a beaming grin — which he quickly caught himself in, reminded himself that the leader didn't much seem to appreciate deputies who acted like kits, and muffled it into a calm, mature smile. "Thank you," he replied quietly, hoping the pleased fireworks bursting inside his chest didn't creep into his voice.
"No, no, fish is fine," he added quickly, padding slowly after the leader to the fresh-kill pile. He looked down at it in thinly-veiled horror for a moment before trying a thin, shaky smile and bending down to scoop up a small herring. The feel of it on his tongue, wet and cold and slippery, made him gag, but he swallowed thickly around the fish and limped over a little unsteadily to join Chimerastar outside his den, chin raised awkwardly to stop the fish's tail slapping against his throat. He felt out the last few pawsteps, struggling to see the ground past the glistening scales, and sat down heavily. Dropping the fish at his paws with a sigh, he turned to the leader and smiled a little sheepishly. After a moment, the smile faded into something more serious. "I'm sorry, you know, if— if I've made you uncomfortable. It's difficult for me, sometimes, to understand what other cats are feeling. They smile and I think they're happy; they say something but mean another, and I don't catch up until it's too late. It's a messy little failing to have and it's gotten me into... well, into my fair share of situations I rather wish I'd never been in. I just... wanted to tell you that, as a pre-emptive apology for all the times I'll no doubt tread on your tail in our future dealings."
He smiled, a little too sad around the edges to reach his eyes, then let out a big, melodramatic sigh and dragged his attention back to the fish at his paws. "Well!" he chirped, and, with a deep breath, crouched down to sink his teeth into the slimy flesh. His eyes watered and he held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing and looking back up at Chimerastar with a tight-lipped grimace-smile. "Delicious," he choked out.
The camp was roomy, dens tucked away into the edges of the cave to leave the middle as a communal space, and there was enough room for the two to sit near each other without being uncomfortably close or feeling like the other cats were watching too closely. Chim wouldn't be surprised if they were being watched, his cats were as nosy as they were stubborn, but he had nothing to hide. Maybe he should have moved this meeting inside the privacy of his den, though; as Doefreckle became more serious and earnest, the leader shifted, his ears pinning back in slight discomfort. The deputy was so open and earnest and vulnerable right where everyone could see and Chim was embarrassed on his behalf to have his weakness broadcast to the whole clan.
And what was he supposed to say to that? Emotions weren't really his thing, especially in public, especially discussing them with cats he didn't know. He had to say something, though, didn't he? Chim took a bite of his prey and chewed it slowly to buy himself some time, savoring the meat as he swallowed it down and cleaned his white whiskers with a swipe of his tongue. He eyed Doefreckle as he sampled the prey, his brow arching expectantly. Most cats that grew up outside of the clans didn't seem fond of the taste of fish, some of them were even sick after eating it, and it was one of the few amusements in his life to watch allies choke down prey and pretend they enjoyed the slime running down their throat.
The corner of his lips pulled up in the barest hint of a smile. "I'm glad you like it. Do eat more," he encouraged, nudging the prey closer to Doefreckle. "Be careful about the scales, they get everywhere and they'll catch in your throat." His shoulders relaxed as he took another bite of his own prey and quickly swallowed it down like it was nothing. "Mmm. As for earlier," he waved his tail, "all is forgiven. Just... refresh your manners. Most cats don't take kindly to you pointing out their flaws," he noted pointedly. Chim had learned to live with his scars many moons ago but he still didn't exactly like when they were mentioned. Better than staring, he supposed, or flinching away like some of his clanmates did when he was first injured, but it still wasn't something he liked to talk about.
Doefreckle's ears drew backwards without realising when he noticed Chimerastar's flattening against his skull, an empathetic quirk that had betrayed him more than once; he was always so quick to take on the burdens and emotions of others, whether or not those emotions were genuine or not. Guilt stirred faintly in his gut — he didn't know what he had done wrong, but he had done something. Ears still pinned contritely against his head, he glanced slowly around the camp, taking in all the pairs of eyes watching him — some, like he was a nuisance; some, like they wanted nothing more than to chase him out of the camp. He lowered his eyes, more than accustomed to the feeling of not belonging.
When the leader finally broke the silence, Doefreckle flicked his gaze over to watch him out of the corner of his eye. Just... refresh your manners. He smiled and lowered his gaze back down to the fish, rolling it over with his forepaw and nodding slowly. "I suppose I have a somewhat warped opinion of what constitutes a flaw — which isn't an excuse," he added quickly, "and it isn't me trying to be all poetic and flowery. I just don't think wounds are something to be ashamed of. Oh, yes, watch me stick my paw in it again —come on, tell me off, I deserve it. I never would have dared express that opinion in BrookClan — always so funny about their looks and conserving good appearances for the noble lineage." He chuckled to himself and took another bite of fish. It wasn't quite so terrible this time; maybe he just wasn't paying it enough attention to notice. "We don't have to talk, I'm sorry. Probably best that we don't, really, until I've learned how to open my mouth without saying something foolish to make you secretly roll your eyes at me just that little bit harder." He tilted his head to smile at the leader, all open warmth and self-deprecation.
He snorted derisively at his 'not a flaw' comment, giving Doefreckle a thoroughly unimpressed look. He didn't believe for a second his scarred face and reduced vision weren't flaws and he wasn't even going to bother arguing against such a ridiculous notion. He returned to his prey as Doefreckle went on, stifling the urge to roll his eyes when it was suggested. He nearly did lapse into silence at the offer but that wasn't really his style: for all Chim balked at talking to his clanmates, he hated to be left alone with his own thoughts for too long, and the only real escape was talking with others. A necessary evil. He cast a sideways glance at Doefreckle and quickly decided there was no way the deputy could keep his mouth shut either, not when he looked so open and friendly all the time. Chim glanced away, huffed, and answered.
"Trust me, it won't be that secretly," he muttered, and reluctantly moved on with the conversation. "BrookClan, huh? Never would have guessed. I thought they taught their cats to be polite." The jape was not meant to be serious, but sometimes his deadpan was difficult to interpret. Cats seemed to forget he was capable of making a joke without being cruel, and assumed his insults were always intended. "Well, at least you didn't learn their nobility and pride either or I could hardly suffer through this meal with you. You're more interesting than a heap of dirt, I'll give you that."
Doefreckle smiled lop-sidedly at the leader's unimpressed look, twitching his tail-tip in amusement. He was starting to grasp the basics of Chimerastar's personality and already knew not to take his gruff dismissals and eye rolls entirely at face value — but he was still a little too cautious to be entirely comfortable, treading as delicately as a cat like him could tread. Trust me, it won't be that secretly. "Oh, you are such a charmer, aren't you?" Doefreckle purred, lowering himself onto his belly and folding one of his forepaws over the other. The fur of his toes was oily from the fish and speckled with dirt; he groomed them as he continued, eyes twinkling at the leader's barbed humour, "I don't think I was there long enough for any of their politeness to rub off on me — imagine if it had: you'd have to speak to a competent deputy with fine manners and the most regal sense of stoicism and professionalism." He rolled onto his back, eyes crinkled and bright, and flopped over onto his other side, immediately returning to grooming the other paw. "What a burden that would be."
You're more interesting than a heap of dirt, I'll give you that. Doefreckle let out a deep, rumbling purr and tilted his head to smile up at the leader through his lashes, one paw held over his heart. "Why, Chimerastar, if you continue with that flattery you're going to make me blush." He was still purring when he started to tug at old claw coatings with his teeth. "It's been a long journey here, to tell you the truth. NightClan, BrookClan, SummerClan — enough poor decisions to fill a lifetime and then some. Lucky I made them, though, clearly, or you wouldn't have had the good fortune of meeting me and then where would you be? Probably enjoying a peaceful nap, but don't tell me that or you'll hurt my delicate feelings."
If he were a more observant or self-conscious cat, he would surely be embarrassed to be seen lolling about a rival camp in front of their leader and his warriors. As it stood, he was neither of those things — but he had noticed Chimerastar's uncomfortable looks and the way he seemed to squirm under the scrutiny of his clanmates. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Doefreckle flicked an ear and added, quieter than before, "if you would rather we talk somewhere else, just say the word." With a lighter smile, he added, "And if you want me to look scared of you to earn a few points, I can do that, too. No charge."
Reluctantly, Chim found himself warming to the deputy. He still didn't understand him, couldn't fathom how he could be enjoying this so much when he was alone in an enemy camp talking to the leader of all cats, how he could smile and purr and look so relaxed and joke about. Happy cats often puzzled Chim, not because it was foreign to him, but because after all he had seen and done it felt naive to be so cheerful all the time and pretend everything was going to go well. His promotion to deputy had nearly started a riot because his own family didn't think he would be a proper deputy, and he had at least been sharp and bitter and mistrustful enough cats knew he'd look out for their clan's wellbeing. He didn't think being a ray of sunshine would have helped his case any, he'd just look like even more of a fool, and instead of being somewhat trustworthy he'd just be useless. Endless joy would not have done him any good.
Except, perhaps, at times like this, because he had to idea where to begin to answer. Doefreckle was teasing him, that much he was near certain of, but being called charming made him fidget anyway. All this time and he still didn't know how to respond to a damn compliment when it wasn't even meant as one. "It would be a shame to talk to someone competent... or someone whose been in their clan more than a fraction of their life," he agreed dryly, though his heart wasn't much in that comment. He watched carefully as the other tom settled onto his side, remaining sitting himself, and shook his head slightly. He was far too comfortable in another clan's camp, but if he had switched clans that often he supposed it made sense. Fine; he'd just have to do the legwork of making him uncomfortable himself.
His stood and moved closer to the sitting deputy, smoldering half gaze glittering with mischief as he lowered his muzzle to the other's ear. "To look scared? Don't you think if I wanted you scared, you would be?" There was a light challenge in his tone as he pulled back, keeping the distance between them short and his gaze carefully scanning. His face was fully turned toward the other now, letting him see his full scars, and though he wasn't expecting terror from the other he was expecting some discomfort, for him to back off a bit, as Chim would have done if another cat came so close.
Caught off guard, Doefreckle visibly shivered when the leader murmured in his ear — and, for the first time that morning, genuine embarrassment prickled under his fur. It was all well and good when his mock-flirtations were rattled off without much care or meaning, simple throw-away praises handed out as casually and as cheerfully as he spoke of weather and prey; it was quite another to find himself truly flustered by something that certainly wasn't meant to be so... appealing but that none-the-less made the breath catch in his throat. He hadn't come here today with the intention of developing a crush on the WaterClan leader — hadn't even thought to think of the possibility — but now that the notion had reared its head inside his mind, it was going to be near impossible to cram it back down.
Doefreckle let out a ruffled little laugh, not brave enough to look up at the leader in case he saw the sudden thoughts that wouldn't—get back—where they belong—go—get—awa—ah! "You, uh, you certainly are—" He chuckled nervously, hunching his shoulders and drawing his lips back into an unsteady grimace of a smile. "Rarr, yes, very scary." Realising that his rambling would be taken as mockery and his unwillingness to look Chimerastar in the face taken for an aversion to his appearance — which, really, the scars and flecks of grey just made him look rugged—no! — he quickly raised his head and offered a wide, beaming smile. "I'm sorry, I don't think the fish is agreeing with me — very delicate stomach, you see." Stupid thing to say. "It's— did you want to get away? Somewhere? Not— not in a weird sort of way, unless you're into that, but no— uh—" With a defeated little huff of a laugh, he deflated, ears flicking back against his head. Guilt curled through his gut, slow and bitter as tar. "I'm sorry. It's not you, you're perfect, look at you! Stoic as a king! It's wonderful. No, I just get flustered, and then I babble even more than I usually do, and then it's a mess, and everyone's screaming, and I'm screaming, and it's just — I'm sorry. And it's nothing to do with your— face— I know you don't want me to mention it—uh—"
He sighed and shook himself out; when he looked up again, he was on his paws and smiling, a little apologetically, a little guiltily, and a whole lot'a pleadingly. "Did you want to go for a walk?" His voice was a rushed sigh, all air and sincerity. "Or something? Doesn't have to be a walk. I'd just... like to talk a little more. Or, I'll talk and you answer with thinly-veiled disdain, either works for me. We can talk about serious things, too, like the... state of the SummerClan lake in greenleaf when the twolegs move in, or the cat-to-fish ratio in WaterClan, or the looming certainty of the meaninglessness of existence dangling over our mortal heads. Name it and I'll try my very best to keep up." He smiled a little wider, but decided against adding a pitiful please? He'd already seen enough of Chimerastar's eye rolls to last him a lifetime. He just hoped, in the dim sort of way the already-condemned hoped for reprieve, that he hadn't said enough foolish things to get himself permanently in the leader's bad graces.
He had expected the deputy to be a little uncomfortable, thrown off balance, but not quite this thrown. He arched a brow as the other stumbled through his sentences like a fish stuck on land, hopelessly foundering to try and find purchase. And the averted eyes and then the intentional look and then the comments on his face, the comments again, no matter what he said Chim knew it must have really messed with him. There was no way the simple gesture and proximity had turned him into this mumbling wreck, so it must have been his scars even if pretended otherwise, though this was a little more extreme of a reaction than he was used to. Honestly, even kits usually handled it a bit better, they didn't trip and tumble over their words and as soon as they realized he had a scar they usually figured out how to handle it just fine.
And they should have been done there. The insults should have made him bristle and at the very least give Doefreckle a moment to regain his composure and maybe apologize, try his best to salvage the remains of this clan relationship, but, well, he didn't mean it. If there was anything Chim had learned about the deputy so far it was that he wasn't intentionally insulting and normally that didn't make a difference, but this time Chim found he wasn't really bothered by it either. He wasn't that sensitive about his scars anymore, he just misliked it when cats fixated on them or used them as cheap fodder for insults, and he knew Doefreckle was neither of those, just a fool trying to get by. Well, Chim was a fool too, and he let it slide. Again.
"Are you sure you want to do that? You're talking enough as it is, talk a little more and you might just pass out from air loss." He flicked his tail and turned toward the entrance, though, willing to entertain this just a little bit longer and see where it was going. He wouldn't mind getting away from his clanmates for a while, especially when he was being more tolerant of this stranger than he usually was his own clanmates; that would just raise unpleasant questions. "Come on. But don't expect to see much, this isn't a tour."
Doefreckle let out a shallow sigh of relief when Chimerastar's reaction was far closer to bemusement than plain and simple anger. "Pass out from air loss," he wheezed, trailing after the leader with a penitent slink in his step. It was meant as the lead-in to a joke, a groveling subject at the altar of a benevolent monarch, laughing himself silly at some half-hearted humour (oh, sir, you're so fu-u-u-unny), but he caught himself before he went into the next act and shook his head, scattering the quip like water droplets. "No, okay, it's okay, I'm good." But don't expect to see much, this isn't a tour. He smiled sweetly and slunk up beside the leader as well as a cat with a fractured foreleg could slink, looking up at him with a tilted head and a quizzical light in his eye, like he was waiting happily for the next well-aimed jibe, or like he was simply admiring him, chasing half-dreams of every one of the leader's possible stories around his head. A battle. A betrayal. An uprising. A broken heart. There were so many possibilities, and every one of them made a string inside his own heart twinge and ache in solidarity. He'd known little of the leader's history when he'd set out for the WaterClan camp that morning — a missing eye, an imprisonment, but not much else. Now he wanted to know it all, but he didn't dare ask. It wasn't like him to be so cautious; Chimerastar had thrown him off. He found he didn't mind very much at all.
Realising he had been staring for a moment too long, he returned his attention to where they were walking and smiled thinly to himself. It had been a moon or two without a hopeless crush to keep his heart occupied and his pelt criss-crossed with scars; he'd missed the way it toyed with his gut and made his chest flare with the wondrous pain of the unattainable. Sometimes he thought he wasn't happy unless he was suffering. He tried not to dwell on it too much.
"So," he piped up cheerfully, limping over the exposed root of a willow tree and shaking the dangling leaves free of his nose, "not for any, like, particular reason, and I don't want you to think I'm prying, because, I mean, I'm not, I could literally care less, and this is totally just... friend talk, or—or acquaintance talk, you know, but, do you have anyone in your life? Like, the special sort of anyone?" In a rush, he added, "you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but just in case you do, I'll go first: no, I don't. Not that the two are necessarily related. Just... facts." He half-coughed the last word weakly, turning his head away from Chimerastar to wince at himself and silently scream. When he turned back, he was beaming again.
Like what you see? he wanted to ask, calmly gazing ahead as he felt his fur prickle under the deputy's gaze, but he didn't dare. He knew he wouldn't like the answer. Instead, he glanced sideways at him and quirked a brow in response to the inquiring gaze. There must be something on his mind to keep Doefreckle staring like that, so he let the silence between them grow as he concentrated on weaving a path through the territory and away from any interesting marks. The conifers grew denser near the river and he skimmed their edge, keeping away from the loud waters and guiding them toward the cliff path that would take them back and above the camp.
He could forgive the insults about his injuries because they were marginal and he was used to them, but this question was point blank and directed at his most vulnerable point. Chim hated that he was too weak to even hear the question without staggering, his paws fumbling uselessly beneath him for a few numb steps before he regained his composure. "No," he snapped, too quickly, angry with a shaky edge, barely hearing Doefreckle go on. He took a breath, voice dropping incrementally, glancing away as he tried again. "Not anymore."
Chim rarely talked about his first mate because there was little to say, and their courtship had only lasted a few days before they had admitted their little rebellion was of no importance and they weren't nearly in love. She was a part of his past he was happy to forget, but his second mate had hit him much harder. They hadn't known each other for long, and he had refused to tell his clan about their relationship other than his leader. He loathed to admit it but he had been too scared of how his family might react and ruin his good memories and now his mate was gone, withered from sickness at his paws, and it was still raw. In the end his family did not care at all if he was interested in toms but he couldn't help feeling it was too late for that, cats like him weren't supposed to find others once much less twice, not without finding some hidden charm or at least wearing a leaf mask.
He flinched slightly when the leader snapped, faltering in his steps and hanging back for a moment with a paw raised in mid-air, watching Chimerastar stalk ahead. He'd struck another nerve, that much was clear, and this one was far more personal than any of the times before. So, his mate had died, or left him, or betrayed him — some sort of painful circumstance that made his voice shake and his temper flare, fresh enough so as to still be raw. Doefreckle stared after him helplessly, certain that simply apologising again wouldn't be any sort of balm for the wound he'd unintentionally pried open. A selfish, reckless little part of him wanted to be brave and ask what he really wanted to know — had it been a tom or a she-cat? — but he didn't dare; not merely because he didn't want to be snapped at, but because he'd already reached that weak point, exceptionally easy for a cat like him, who cared for nameless kittypets on garden fences and baby voles he found in the spring, to reach, where he didn't want to hurt him. He certainly hadn't expected to come to care for the WaterClan leader so quickly — or, at all, really — but now that he was there, his heart twinged painfully with the knowledge that he had been the cause of such distress.
It was a failing, of sorts, that he'd become so numb to bad relationships that he simply forgot other cats weren't as willing to speak about them so openly; and it wasn't that he didn't care about all the toms he'd been with, because a dangerous excess in caring and a too-tender, bleeding heart had always been the cause of most of his pain, all too eager and willing to take on the heartache of other cats without a thought of his own wellbeing, and he had truly believed he had loved each and every one of them — it was more that he forgot not all cats found heartbreak to be a terrible sort of addiction. That he forgot some sorts of love were meant to be shameful. That he forgot not everything in life revolved around love, and desire, and all the cruelty that came with it — because he did truly believe that love was supposed to hurt, and had never had any reason to think otherwise; love hurt, love took, love never gave back, and how lovely the abuse of broken bones and snarled words and bleeding out at the border could be. He daydreamed, sometimes (always), about a special brand of love that could be soft and warm and gentle as sunlight.
But that was only a pipe dream.
Assuming Chimerastar had been through some similar sort of cruelty, he let out a soft sigh, brows drawn together miserably, and slunk quickly after him. By the time he caught up to him, he was smiling again, a softer sort, all tired comfort and bad dreams. "That's a special kind of pain, isn't it?" His voice was quiet, his gaze as sad as it was gentle. "The 'not anymore's." He drifted off vaguely, like he wanted to say more but didn't quite know how to put it into words. Raising his eyes to glance at the birds flitting through the lightening sky, he sighed like he was exhaling all the emotions that weren't optimism and joy, and plastered on a sparkling smile. "Anyway! I love this type of weather — cold in the mornings, sunny in the day, plenty of stars at night. Back before I was deputy — like, half a moon ago, whoo! Time flies — I'd just lounge in any meadow I could find for hours. Sometimes the butterflies would think I was a speckly rock and come sit on me. Tickled a bit." He smiled at the thought, but he could feel how haunted his eyes looked. He flicked them down to focus on his paws against the soft earth and hoped Chimerastar didn't notice.
He shouldn't be so sensitive about this, it was long past time to move on, but his thick skin had never helped him when it came to romance or love. He fell slowly but hopelessly until it took every fiber of his being to be logical, to pay attention and make the right choices, and he failed so often anyway it was a miracle anyone stuck by him, clan or mate. As much as he wanted to hate himself for falling in love he could never quite manage it, could never quite admit the lows were never worth the highs, that he was better off alone. He shouldn't still be so distraught over the past, he had accepted that much, and Doefreckle's flinch made him feel a familiar stab of guilt that he had caused that with his weakness.
"Yeah."
He exhaled slowly, feeling the deputy's soft voice, and knew he understood. It might be different, what happened to them, it could have happened a thousand times to Doefreckle or just the once, but he knew they had shared that special pain. That was uncharted territory for him, sharing, openly admitting they had both been hurt in the same way, but it was a place he never wanted to explore, never wanted to dwell in. He didn't have time to properly grieve his loss so it was just another addition to the mass grave in the corner of his mind where he buried everything he could not bear to think about, raw wounds that would never close, stashed away without closure so they couldn't overwhelm him. He didn't want to relieve those special pains again, couldn't afford to let them break him now that he was the cat in charge, couldn't let them see the light much less discuss them.
And then he was finally aware that the deputy was talking to him again, light and meaningless rambling again, despite the heaviness that had grown between them. His ears pinned back and his response lacked energy, a dull answer to Doefreckle's bubbly attempt. "Hours, huh? Try days. See if your clanmates panic or just assume you've left and keep on." That... probably wasn't the best way to respond to optimism but Chim really didn't know how to carry of a cheerful conversation like that, about the weather of all things.
When the leader softened, Doefreckle felt a tranquil relief wash over him like the water of the cool streams that pooled at the bottom of the mountain; it was something he didn't think he should be bearing witness to, something that felt sacred and vulnerable and dangerous — for just a moment, lost in memory, Chimerastar had dropped his defenses, and Doefreckle was caught somewhere between awe and trepidation, slow, quiet anguish and the hunger to pry the parapets open further. He gazed up at him with a soft frown, wanting to press against him as some show of dull comfort but not daring.
He glanced down when the leader answered, smiling weakly at the soft, dark marsh. He knew he should respond to Chimerastar's frail attempt at continuing his feigned joviality, that he should keep the humour high and the real world contained, that he should pick up the mantle where the leader had met him half way and continue on, that he should steer them away from the subjects that clearly hurt them both. But now that he had seen the raw softness lurking beneath all the gruffness, he wasn't content to just let it lie — which, really, had always been his failing, hadn't it? He couldn't let sleeping dogs lie. He always had to prod them until they took the bait and bit. Maybe it was a feeble attempt at self-harm. Maybe it was an addiction to all the lovely things that could hurt him. Maybe he was just a fool.
When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and careful, open enough to hear the beats of his heart. "It's a... comfort... to know there's someone who understands." Who understands that whatever this special pain was, yours and mine are the same. He forced a playful grin. "Don't worry, there's only gonna be one or two mandatory sleepovers where we get together and eat too much and gush about toms—" He broke off abruptly, that old panic crawling up his throat like bile, all fluttering pulse and fear. He pushed the smile back onto his face, hoping it looked far more confident than he felt, and crushed the fear back down with all the other things he didn't want to feel. It had been a long time since he'd felt panicked by his own leanings towards toms; he wasn't going to let it resurface after all this time and all this work to feel so comfortable and flippant in his own skin. "Or she-cats," he added after a moment, smiling down at his paws. It quivered around the edges. "So, uh, whaaaaaaaat'syour favourite time of day? Mine is definitely sunset. It's pretty. I like the pink ones best." His laugh was strangled.
He wasn't sure which was worse, the small talk or the intensely intimate, but he wasn't keen on either. Talking about past love was too dangerous, he wasn't ready, he wasn't sure he'd ever be, but it was the path Doefreckle seemed stuck on. He let out a slow breath between clenched teeth as their conversation moved back to their shared understanding, and there was nothing he could say, just quietly wait to move on.
And then Doefreckle stumbled and said the wrong thing, and his moment of panic lingered in Chim's mind even as the deputy went on. Gush about toms. Which meant.... well, it could mean anything, really, and he was no good at interpreting those sorts of things. Was it just his subtle way of pointing out he knew about Chim? Was it an admission that Doefreckle was attracted to toms as well? And his panic, like he hadn't wanted Chim to know that little detail, didn't intend for it to slip out— it was the only thing he had seen the deputy try and hide, the only piece of information he wasn't comfortable sharing, and Chim couldn't forget it. How was he supposed to talk about the sunset now? It felt important, sensitive, and if he had to be vulnerable about his not anymore then Doefreckle could take a moment to talk about his soft spot. If he thought Chim would hold some prejudice about liking toms he was dead wrong and he was sure as hell not going to let that go without correcting it.
Chimerastar stepped forward and halted Doefreckle, crossing in front to block his path. He bent his head closer to inspect the deputy's gaze and nudged his chin up with the tip of his tail. "You can gush about all the she-cats you want," he told him, completely serious now, voice low and stern, "but in the extremely unlikely scenario you drag me on some sleepover I will only be volunteering toms. Unless, of course," he added, relaxing now that he'd made his point, the faintest of smiles creeping across his features, "we're going to gossip about the most annoying she-cats, in which case you'll be hard pressed to get a word in. I've got more names on that list than days left alive."
