Show Me».[Thymeheart].

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ FILL THE ROOM WITH EMPTY STARES

[/color] }
{ GO TO BED AND SAY MY PRAYERS, KEEP THEM SATISFIED[/color] }[/center]

The moon sat in the sky on its royal throne in the darkness that was the night, looking upon the earth below with its one eye. All of the deformities of the moon were mocked by the stars as they twinkled merrily, their perfection obvious. At the edge of the horizon the sun was waking up, spreading its rays of light as it yawned, birdsong erupting from its mouth. The constant bickering of the moon and stars ceased as they faded slowly, adamant about disappearing.

The sun--ruler of the celestial community and peace maker of the heavens--looked down on the forests and mountains and rivers below with its great, burning eye. There was one forest that it favored. A forest of silver birchs, grand oaks, and a sparkling river that cascaded over towering falls. Four tribes of felines lived in this forest, each group as unique as each galaxy.

A legacy of misfortune, heartbreak, and deception lived in this forest. A family was so scattered that members of this family were banished from the others' thoughts. Others were not even known to exist. A young tom-cat by the name of Flare lived in the shadow of his wicked father, Shadowfire. Countless times Flare suffered the claws of his kin and the endless diatribes.

The sun looked away, not in the mood to witness more deception today. Like everyone else, it looked away, ignoring.

Flare blinked sleepily and lifted his head, scanning the RiverClan camp with wide eyes. Though he wasn't sure exactlly what position he held in his Clan, Flare always slept in the apprentices' den, whispering to Surfpaw into the wee hours of the morning. Last night, though, Flare had closed his eyes the second he curled up in his nest, dreaming restlessly.

The blind she-cat had come to him again, whispering ominously of a broken bloodline. Flare had screeched at the she-cat in frustration, knowing that he should be aware of his lineage. The only thing the blind femme did was turn and walk away into the mist, leaving Flare with even more questions.

He needed to get out of the camp.

Stretching thoroughly, Flare winced as the closing wounds all over his body ached dully. It was about a fortnight ago that Shadowfire severely punished him; Flare was able to walk around camp without others staring at him and hissing under their breath. But you could still see the ugly scars.

Making sure not to wake Surfpaw, Flare trodded carefully on his feet as he stepped over his denmates. A chill breeze wafted into the camp as Flare stepped out, ruffling his thick fur a little bit. The tom barely shivered as he left the camp and went to the river.

Sunrise was just beginning to break out on the horizon as the ginger and white tom sat down by the babbling stream, his mind occupied by recent happenings. It was just a moon ago that he met Lullaby and Serpent, finding out a little bit about the infamous Shard. Flare had a feeling that his father had once known Shard, but what did that have to do with Flare's unknown lineage? Shadowfire and Shard had been nothing but friends, hadn't they?

With a sigh, Flare slipped into the water, the last of his weariness disappearing as the cold seeped into his marrow. As he let his paws pedal the water with expert skill, Flare wondered how he could feel so at home here if he was a kittypet. It was then that he could remember a little bit about his past...

¤~

The sound of a crow made the little kit jump back, eyes wide as full moons and nostrils flared. He sniffed in embarassment and looked at his father, pain and fear in his multi-colored eyes. It was only yesterday that he opened them, marveling at how beautiful everything was. But now, all he could see was the darkness and his father's hateful glare.

" Move it, you little runt!! "

Flare blinked his eyes slowly as his ears pressed flat to his cranium. He was still too young to truly understand everything Shadow said. The dark tabby tom growled in pure resentment and shoved the kit onto his too-big paws. Flare whimpered, pleading, and Shadow lightly nipped his son's hind leg. Exhausted, the tom-kit jumped a little and staggered alongside his father, not daring to lean on him for support. Looking back, he thought he could see a pair of luminous multi-colored eyes in the face of a black striped she-cat. But when he blinked, all he could see was her tail, waving as she disappeared into ShadowClan territory.

~¤

It was now that he realized that that was the same she-cat who kept visiting him in his dreams. But she had been so young when he first saw her, and she still held youth whenever she saw him... How long had it since she died? What kind of a life had she lead... ? And what did she want with Flare.

The tom sighed and crawled out of the water and onto the bank, his thoughts buzzing like hornets. He shook his thick pelt and stared at the water, trying to conjuer a sign from the nameless she-cat. Flare's forehead creased in concentration and he stuck his tongue out; the perfect picture of the most comical face capable of being assembled on a cat's face.

" Show me some answers, " he hissed at the water.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Blackie]

If only the night could shroud pain in darkness like it covered everything else, obscuring it until daytime demanded the truth. It would have to be a moonless night, unlike this one with the silver orb suspended on high. Its halo glow washed the darkness so that the earth maintained a general shape. The outlines of bushes and trees and stones. This was a night for happier thoughts, magical and even romantic in its own way. This was the sort of night told in stories of great victors and happy bliss. But bliss is sometimes daunting and ignorance can be more painful than knowledge.

The sparse trees of RiverClan territory did little to hide the cat walking around them. Its ginger coat was turned to brown in the half-light, the white underbelly gray without anything to illuminate it. Bright like stars, its eyes flashed green and red, the round shapes displaying their reflective quality. She padded aimlessly, wandering the well trod paths where countless other paws had been. Her tail hung loosely behind her, head lowered so her gaze fell to her white-dipped paws. Her mind wrapped around a few single thoughts, trying to take in what had happened and what she would do next.

Was it really such a blessing to have a brother? Perhaps if they weren't so headstrong like Goldburn. He was so taken up with himself, priding in his handsome features, strength, and talents. His was much quicker to understand than Thymeheart was, witty comments and heavy sarcasm falling off his tongue with ease. No one could say that he was particularly liked for it, but no one hated him either. And now, when it seemed as if he had been forgotten by a childhood friend he had only met once in the few past moons . . . he was breaking apart.

Thymeheart felt strongly for him and was sorry that his feelings for Shatteredmirror were not being returned. Yet, she felt strongly that whether consciously or not, the ThunderClan cat was doing the best thing by not seeing Goldburn. Nothing good could come from something that must be hidden to be preserved. But he wouldn't hear it. He couldn't. It hurt too much.

They fought constantly now, especially since the meeting when Sleetpaw had been given to Thymeheart to mentor. Goldburn had been infinitely jealous, letting it show openly later by ignoring his sister and mocking her when she begged him for help. Luckily, Sleetpaw had chosen to be responsive to her, which she knew was an honor. The silly thing rarely listened to or respected anybody. She felt proud and uplifted to know that he wanted her to teach him and befriend him. It was a privilege she would never have passed up.

Pricking her ears, the ginger and white warrior caught the sound of moving water. Without realizing it, her paws had carried her to the river. There was always peace to be found at the river. Perhaps the cheerful laughter of the waves and the other nocturnal sounds would lift her spirits and help her to focus on better things. She had to decided what she would be having Sleetpaw do in the morning. Maybe they would just go exploring.

She picked up her pace, feeling a clawing at the back of her throat. Apparently she had been wandering long enough to feel thirsty. The reeds and fronds grew thicker here close to the bank. They rustled beneath her, parting dramatically when she hurtled through them, a look of vigor captivating her entire body.

And then she stopped dead.

There, by the water, where she had been about to occupy sat a cat. It stared down at its reflection, concentration distorting its features. Thymeheart squinted, confused by the young face being so serious. Then she felt a small twinge of recognition and she relaxed, but remained critical. What was he doing all the way out here on his own? And how on earth had he gotten past the guard?

"Flare?" Thymeheart mewed, forcing herself not to be very accusatory but still superior. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

[/size]

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ FILL THE ROOM WITH EMPTY STARES

[/color] }
{ GO TO BED AND SAY MY PRAYERS, KEEP THEM SATISFIED[/color] }[/center]

The water's only reply was a slight disturbance, distorting Flare's reflection.

The tom hissed, his teeth bared in a snarl. His heart ached dully and a small headache pulsed behind his temples. Why did he get all of these cryptic messages that meant nothing? Whenever he asked any questions, all he got was something else that made him ask more. Flare c o c k e d his head back and sighed hugely, his eyes closed in frustration. The young tom let his thoughts become restful, willing himself to think of more calming subjects.

Thymeheart...

Looking back down at the gushing river, Flare smiled wistfully. The only two--well, make that three now--that mattered to him were Surfpaw, Lullaby... and Thymeheart. He loved the she-cat... and that made him wonder. How could anybody love a non-Clanborn like him? Everybody hated Shadowfire now, thanks to his arrogance and stupidity at the Clan meeting. Matters got worse when Flare stumbled into camp blood-soaked in his father's rage. Flare knew that something--no doubt related to his mother--had happened to his father that made him look at Flare with fear and hatred. The tom had never let Shadowfire know, but he could see the agony and the terror in his kin's silver eyes.

What did Thymeheart think about all of that? Did she care about him enough to care? Yes, they were friends; that didn't mean that she loved him, though. It was during her apprenticeship that they met, thanks to Surfpaw. Flare had liked the she-cat's calm and soothing demeanor; it made him feel strong and confident. Like he could run forever and stand up to those that stepped on him. He and the lovely femme had talked so much that it seemed that they knew everything about each other. But Flare felt that he needed to know more about her.
" Thymeheart, " he sighed, closing his eyes in bliss. " How I wish to have the strength to tell you-- "

" Flare? Shouldn't you be asleep? "

If there was ever a time that Flare wanted to spontaneously combust, this was it.

Springing to his paws and turning to stare at the ginger and white fae, Flare's mouth opened to be an abyss of horror. His wide eyes grew even wider and his mouth worked only to have no sound come out. He blinked, his eyes glimmering in shame and embarassment. Flare hoped that Thymeheart hadn't heard him acting like an idiot.

" I--I-I... Uhh... Well, you see-- "

The tom looked down at his paws, growing hot at the ears. His mouth snapped shut with a loud pop! For once, he wished that Shadowfire would just show up and kill him.

Wanting to bump Thymeheart's shoulder playfully so that she wasn't suspicous of anything, Flare started to walk to her.

That is, until he tripped.

Flare's oversized paw caught on a rock, throwing him head over heels. The sky blended into the earth as he somersaulted right into Thymeheart, knocking the wind out of him.

He sprang to his feet with a yowl of surprise and bent down to help the fae up. " I'm sooo sorry, Thymeheart!! Are you okay?! I--I can go get Honeystripe if you need me to?! Are any bones broken? Concussions?! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. " Flare realized he was rambling and clamped his mouth shut, afraid to say any more. His brow was furrowed in worry and his handsome face was a mask of torture. YOU STUPID MOUSE-BRAIN!!! Are you rat-bitten?!

[/color]

The striped beau licked his lips in anxiety and studied Thymeheart, trying his best not to let his eyes linger too long. But they did, unfortunately. " I came out here because I couldn't sleep, " he mewed sheepishly, shuffling his paws nervously.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag: blackie!!
muse: agh! it sucks!!
lyrics: loud and clear--the cranberries!! WOOT!
notes: flare is so cute.

[/size]

[Blackie]

She gasped, stifling pained yowls as she fell beneath the tom cat, sharp river stones digging into her flesh. She grimaced, trying to wedge herself out from between the ground and Flare who was trying to regain his footing. He began to babble, his voice raised in panic, silencing all else. Frightened that he would arose something that might be better left ignorant of their presence, Thymeheart hissed at the younger cat.

"Yes, yes! I'm fine, Flare, fine. If you don't be quiet, Honeystripe might just come here on her own. Now hush." she sounded a little more irate than she had meant to be, shocking even herself. Her breath was quick and she tried to calm it, but it was difficult to take complete control after such a surprise. She pushed herself up, grass, sand and pebbles cascading off her pelt. Softly, she groaned and lowered her head so that her tongue could clean out the mess entangled in her fur. There was a throbbing in her leg; it would no doubt bruise. She only hoped it would heal enough that it wouldn't slow her tomorrow.

" I came out here because I couldn't sleep, "

Thymeheart laughed, gently, looking up at Flare with flashing green eyes. "A terrible excuse. You'll never get past Dragonstar or your father with that one." Exactly what Goldburn would have said. Amused, she purred while she groomed the lifted tufts of ginger fur back into place. Her mind was sparkling with happier days when she and Goldburn had been little, sneaking off when they shouldn't have been. Funny, that one unfortunate tumble with Flare could chase away her dark thoughts and replace them with sweeter stuff. Thymeheart had rarely accompanied her brother on his apprentice-day escapades, but she knew all of his best stories by heart.

"Try this one when we get back and everyone wants to know where you've been:" she meowed, straightening herself into a sitting position. She pulled her tail over her paws, the tip twitching slightly. "Tell them you needed to make dirt - You did go out by the dirt-place, didn't you? - and while you were there, you saw a vole go by and you chased it here. Its a bit far from camp, but its reasonable for an apprentice to make a mistake like chasing prey every where." She was about to laugh again when she suddenly paused, a confused expression darting over her face. If she thought very carefully about it, she might come to the conclusion that she had given Flare tips on how to avoid getting in trouble when he clearly ought to be. Swallowing whatever amusement she had left, she half-heartedly shot him a disapproving glare.

"Don't you come out here again all on your own, Flare. You . . . you're not supposed to." You sound mouse-brained. You sound like your head's been filled with thistle down. She sighed, laying her ears back. Shame-faced, she flicked her tail in Flare's direction. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

[/size]

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ FILL THE ROOM WITH EMPTY STARES

[/color] }
{ GO TO BED AND SAY MY PRAYERS, KEEP THEM SATISFIED[/color] }[/center]

Flare recoiled as Thymeheart hissed at him, the fur along his shoulders bristling. Just the thought of the femme being angry with him made Flare extremely agonized. Was this how Shadowfire felt about his mother? He must have felt like if anything were to severe them, then he would be severed from life. Wasn't that love? Didn't it make you feel like you would run across the horizon even though your feet are glued to the ground?

" Yes, yes! I'm fine, Flare, fine. If you don't be quiet, Honeystripe might just come here on her own. Now hush.

[/color] "

The tom nodded, biting his lip in worry. His pearly whiskers were quivering in anticipation as he watched Thymeheart get up and start grooming all of the debris out of her ginger and white fur.

" A terrible excuse. You'll never get past Dragonstar or your father with that one. "

Flare flinched at Thymeheart's judgemental words, shivering at the thought of Shadowfire. So Thymeheart did know about his mentally unstable kin. Of course she knows, you mouse-brain. Get your head out of the ground.[/color] Flare looked up from his orange paws to the fae, nodding slightly.

" Try this one when we get back and everyone wants to know where you've been:Tell them you needed to make dirt - You did go out by the dirt-place, didn't you? - and while you were there, you saw a vole go by and you chased it here. Its a bit far from camp, but its reasonable for an apprentice to make a mistake like chasing prey every where.[/color] "

Flare looked away, growing red at the ears. He was mortified, if that is a strong enough word to describe his embarassment. The tom wanted to explain to Thymeheart that he didn't "sneak" out of camp. He just wanted some peace and quiet and just strolled out without any questioning. Flare held his tongue and continued to stare at his paws, feeling like he was being scolded. But, if he pondered it, she was actually helping him. She was actually giving him an excuse to not experience the diatribes and punishments of his father--again.

" Don't you come out here again all on your own, Flare. You . . . you're not supposed to.[/color] "

Unable to help himself, Flare laughed, his eyes narrowed in humor. Thymeheart was trying so hard to act like a warrior and treat him like an apprentice! The tom was old enough to be a warrior now, for StarClan's sake. Thanks to Shadowfire--Is it just me, or is he always interfering with my life?[/i] he thought--Flare's apprenticeship had been pushed back further and further until just a moon ago. " I can easily take care of myself, " he purred, remembering his frightening encounter with the Bloodlusters. Unknowing, he shivered, recollecting how terrifying they could be. Serpent could have easily killed him, but she didn't.

" Why couldn't you sleep?[/color] "

The tom's laughter died in his throat and he looked at the fae with uncertain eyes. His mind wandered a little bit, growing wistful as he took in every feature about Thymeheart's green eyes. After a few, silent moments, Flare coughed slightly and looked away, shuffling his paws. Could he tell her about the blind she-cat? Could he confide in her about Lullaby and Serpent? Yes, then no.

" I keep having these-- "--What; dreams? Visions? Prophecies?--" These dreams about a she-cat I've never met before. It always takes place in a barren, marshy landscape. Sometimes I think it might be a distorted ShadowClan hunting ground. But this she-cat... She is pure white with black stripes that dance like shadows on her and her paws are engulfed in flames. Her eyes are the color of Stormclouds, masking any emotion. Every night she comes to me in these dreams and she keeps whispering to me how I need to find the pieces of my missing lineage... " he shrugged, attempting to play it cool. " They don't matter that much.. It just keeps me up at night. " LA-AME!![/i] he wanted to scream at himself.

Trepidation seized him and he glanced away and stared at the river, anxious about what Thymeheart would say. Flare sighed. Leave it up to you to look like an idiot, Flare.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Blackie]

As the tom recounted the story of his dream to her, Thymeheart rapidly flowed from mild interest to confused surprise. Her ears pricked forward in a way that usually indicated something unusual to be looking out for. Cold slivers weaved around her spine in a complicated braid until they reached her tail and lashed it to be rid of the sensation. Her eyes narrowed, displaying worried disbelief. A she-cat in flames was almost too strange, but it had been a dream. Dreams came in all nonesense. If someone had came to her with fire on their paws and emotionless eyes, telling her she had a broken lineage, she would be frightened out of her skull. But those kinds of dreams were for medecine cats. Flare's couldn't have meant anything. It was just anxiety about his half-Clan blood and the illfavor with which some of the cats were accepting it.

"I, um," Thymeheart mewed, swallowing when she found her throat was still parched. She glanced longingly at the river, but she didn't want to be rude to her Clanmate. "I wouldn't have been able to sleep either." she finally mumbled after a long pause. Her eyes darted upward to his face, taking in the pattern of his stripes. She felt a little nervous, somehow, realizing for the first time that Flare had surprising good looks. Why hadn't she noticed before? Her brow furrowed slightly with the knowledge that another cat's looks hadn't ever concerned her. Attraction wasn't on her list of priorities. But suddenly she was being struck by the thought that maybe she wasn't pretty. What did she or anyone care if she was pleasing to the eye? All that mattered was staying on their good sides and not doing anything to upset anyone else. Except for Goldburn. He was a lost cause.

Ducking her head so that the apprentice wouldn't see her odd expression, Thymeheart stood and padded quickly past him to the shore. She lapped at the water gratefully, closing her eyes contentedly when the soothing droplets hit the back of her throat and snaked down the driest places.

"Tomorrow, I'm taking Sleetpaw out exploring." she mewed, not sure why she should tell Flare this, but with an obvious hint of pride at the mention of her apprentice. "We're just going to have some fun. Maybe, if you can, you'd like to come with us? We could have a contest, Sleetpaw would enjoy that I think." she glanced at him warily as if she were afraid he might refuse. Not that it would have mattered if he did, but she found herself hoping he would. She held her breath. If he said no she would be disappointed and embaressed by her invitaion.

It was very well that Goldburn wasn't here to see her.

[/size]

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ FILL THE ROOM WITH EMPTY STARES

[/color] }
{ GO TO BED AND SAY MY PRAYERS, KEEP THEM SATISFIED[/color] }[/center]

Flare, still anxious to hear Thymeheart's response, looked down at his paws. His forehead knit in a mixture of confusion and bewilderment as he noticed he, too, had paws engulfed in flames. The tom's mind wandered to Shadowfire, where he ran over every little detail he could. Orange paws, dark stripes...

A silent scream filled Flare's head. Could it really be true? Was this she-cat really related to him?! This was the same she-cat who he saw not long after he opened his eyes. But there was no way she could be his mother; she was much too young. Flare shook these thoughts away and loked back up at Thymeheart, his thoughts chaotic as they bounced about in his head.

" I, um.......
I wouldn't have been able to sleep either. "

The tom sighed and looked back down at his paws as if they were the most fascinating pair of feet in the world. I'm such a moron...

Feeling as if he were being watched, Flare's eyes slowly glanced up at Thymeheart, surprised to see that she was just...staring at him. A small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and his forehead creased slightly as he raised an eyebrow. But then, the fae glanced away. The static that had been gathering the air evaporated immediatly, leaving Flare feeling empty and disappointed.

He watched as the ginger femme got to her paws and pad to the edge of the river where she drank the clear liquid. Flare, too, sprang to his paws and followed more slowly, his tail dragging on the ground. The beau sat beside Thymeheart, enjoying the way the moonlight danced on her fur. His whiskers twitched and his one moveable ear pressed flat against his skull. Flare swallowed nervously and bent down to take a sip from the river; for his throat was also dry and scratchy.

But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his reflection.

A white she-cat stared back at him. Her eyes weren't the same gray he remembered them to be, but the mirror image of his eyes. Their stripes were identical except for the fact that her's were black while Flare's were orange. The phantom fae smiled mischievously and disappeared with a small splash.

" Tomorrow, I'm taking Sleetpaw out exploring. We're just going to have some fun. Maybe, if you can, you'd like to come with us? We could have a contest, Sleetpaw would enjoy that I think. "

Flare's lips pulled back slightly at the mention of Sleetpaw. The note of pride in Thymeheart's voice when she mentioned her apprentice made the tom's skin crawl as if an army of ants were parading on him. His plumed tail trembled slightly but then stood stiff and low to the ground. Though Flare wanted to decline the offer, he didn't want to hurt Thymeheart's feelings. What did he want more? To sit in camp waiting on his father to skin him alive? or did he want the chance to spend more time with Thymeheart; besides, it would be worth it to irritate Sleetpaw more.

Noticing how tense and angry he looked, Flare laughed quietly and started grooming his face, mumbling an answer between licks. " I would love to come, Thymeheart, " he purred, stopping and looking at the fae with honest eyes. Unable to think of anything else to say, he continued to wash his face, looking at the she-cat out of the corner of his eye. A small smile brightened his eyes and he wondered if he had enough courage to comment on how pretty Thymeheart looked. But, at the thought of it, his heart trembled frantically. I'm tired of being a coward!

[/color] he chided himself.

The tom cleared his throat and looked Thymeheart in the eye, keeping his eyes as calm and non-terrified as possible. They sparkled happily and showed a slight sign of the pang of nervous anxiety that seeped in his blood. " Your fur looks lovely in the moonlight, " he whispered, finding it hard to continue to look at the femme. The tom coughed nervously and looked back at the rushing water, keeping his face as emotionless as possible.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag; blackie! ( /huggles ) my bestest buddy!
muse; it lives!!!
lyrics; still loud and clear by the cranberries. i love them!!
notes; dunno

[/right]

[Blackie]

Having him pad beside her, lowering his head to take up the same water as she had, it sent a shiver through her that she wished she hadn't felt. Her breath caught slightly quavering when she tried to swallow it. She felt like a leaf quivering at the uttermost end of a branch right before it tumbled the distance down to the rest. Like Goldburn plunging head first into his emotions. Get a hold of yourself. She fixed her gaze on the water, trying to focus on the ripples instead of the Flare's pelt glimmered with the movement of his shoulders.

" I would love to come, Thymeheart, " His purr pleased her, enticing a quick sideways glance up at his face. His eyes were bright, glittering with the moonlight, intensifying they're color. She purred in return, shyly looking down again. The water was lapping at her paws now, soaking the prim white socks. She drew them out, flicking her tongue over them briskly in an attempt to dry them.

" Your fur looks lovely in the moonlight, "

She was so taken by surprise, that she stopped her washing with her tongue half way out and her brow furrowed in confusion. But as his words sank in and began to take meaning, she felt a flushing heat seep under her fur. Her heart skipped before doubling its pace as if to make up for what had felt like an eternal pause.

"Th - thank you, Flare." she mewed, unsure what what was expected of her now. Her eyelids hooded her green orbs in a pretty way, though it was certainly not her intention. She was embarrassed, but pleased and deathly afraid that she looked like a fool. "Its just the moonlight." she whispered.

tag FIAH!
muse like a wrinkled little piece of paper
sogged down by muddy water
with a dull match being held to the top corner
character Thymeheart my socially poor lovely
notes I fell in love with this notes thing,
so Imma start using it to amuse myself.
lol I LOVE FLARE!!!! XD He's adorable!

[/size]

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ WHERE'S YOUR GAVEL, YOUR JURY

[/color] }
{ WHAT'S MY OFFENSE THIS TIME[/color] }[/center]

The quietest melody of birdsong filled the air as the moon slowly descended, kissing the earth goodbye with its gentle light. Flare felt the cold in the air slowly, slowly receeding like the tide of the ocean. Sometimes he wished to go and see the ocean because of the way his friend, Surfpaw, spoke of it. He had told Flare that it was the largest stretch of water ever seen, and it glittered all day long like diamonds were embedded in it. The salt brine that nestled in your fur had the tantalizing scent of fish and seaweed and the cry of the gulls was something you couldn't describe. Lucky Surfpaw; he hadn't been brought up to fear the world, he embraced it.

The tom shook his head and glanced at Thymeheart out of the corner of his eye, still keeping his head low. The fae's return purr of happiness made his head jerk upright and a broad--if not a little silly--smile light up his face. Flare had worried that Thymeheart had offered the invitation only to be polite; it actually seemed that she would enjoy his prescence during Sleetpaw's training. I can't wait to see that scumbag's face when I show up, he thought to himself quite spitefully.

A sharp intake of breath hurt Flare's lungs when Thymeheart just stopped, her eyes wide in disbelief. The tom's smile faltered and all of the confidence that had been building up in him disappeared with a puff of smoke. You and your stupid, idiotic, egotistical--wait...what does that mean?--impulsive...big mouth!!

[/color] In his mind, Flare was beating himself to death, quite literally. What would he do if Thymeheart just ran away? He would probably have to run away and bury himself alive so that he wouldn't have to deal with the antagonism later on.

" Th-thank you, Flare. "

It was now that Flare realized that he had been holding his breath and relieved his lungs of their burden, not surprised to notice that he was feeling extremely dizzy. Black spots blurred his vision and he felt like he was sitting still while the world aroudn him was spinning in a merry dance. Woooow.[/color] Suddenly, he felt like he was going to pass out. Whether it was from the lack of air or Thymeheart's praise.

" It's just the moonlight, " she muttered shyly. Flare's left ear pricked, his curiousity sparking. Didn't Thymeheart know how pretty she was? or was she just modest? C o c k i n g his head to the side, the striped apprentice watched the femme with curious eyes. " I don't think so, " he whispered, a smirk in his tone. Am I seriously saying this? I must have hit my head on something when I tumbled into Thymeheart.[/color] " You're too pretty to give credit to the moonlight, " he gasped slightly, still a little out of breath. Flare's head pounded like a drum and he wondered to himself, I think some of my brain cells just died... I can't think straight.[/color] The ginger and white tom breathed deeply, enjoying the way confidence seemed to ooze out of his pores. He usually wasn't like this; instead, he always had trouble saying one word and keeping his body from trembling. The medium-sized cat straightened up so he could appear taller and let his tail arch prettily in the air, ctaching fragments of moonlight on his thick fur. The white glittered like snow and the orange stripes glowed like fire. His blue eye was like ice while the green one was an emerald as his eyes flickered upwards to stare at the horizon, searching for any sky spectacle to dazzle Thymeheart with. " Have you ever had the chance to watch the sunrise before, Thymeheart? "

Flare swallowed nervously, noticing the way the fae's name made an electric current run through him as he said it. Was he taking this too far? Lowering his orange muzzle, the tom kept his eyes level with Thymeheart, his eyes earnest and pleading. Please just understand, they seemed to say.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag; blackie! my sister from another mister!
muse; it blew up... and then it spontaneously combusted.
notes; lol, blackie! and Flare is adorable! he's my favorite right now along with Avarice and Shadowfire
( /death huggles Flare )
ooooh no! i killed him! ( /cries )
lyrics; ignorance by paramore from their new album "brand new eyes"

[/right]

[Blackie]

"You don't know what its like." he snarled, baring his teeth at her in a way she had seen him do to a fox. She stepped back, her ears lain down and her eyes narrowed in defense in case he tried to rake his claws at her. His furosity was surprising, and therefore to Thymeheart it escelated to terrifying. Her own brother, who had spent all their previous moons in protecting her, was suddenly fiercly against her. All for the sake of a cat he had only seen once since their kithood.

"Goldburn," she whispered, wanting to console him. She could see he was in pain.

"No, Thymeheart." he hissed, but his voice was softer. "Shatteredmirror . . . There's more to it than just a whim. I need her; not seeing her tears me apart. I love her, Thymeheart, I do." His voice cracked like it had when they said good bye to their mother for the last time. Then he had bounded past her, not wanting to hear any more of her critcism and unwilling to open up any more of his proud heart. Even though she had felt for him, she hadn't understood. He was right. She didn't know what it was like.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

And she wasn't sure if she did now. She thought she did, she wanted to, but she was afraid that she was tripping over the same gap that she was accusing Goldburn of. The deeper, keener feeling of a true sense of love. Not just this sudden, surprising infatuation met by attraction. But the feeling was intoxicating. Was it really so bad to become subject to such a blissful sensation? Then yet, that was where the problem lay. It was hard to think sensibely in this frame of mind. Anything was possible here; you could fly if you wanted to! But later you would wake up and realize you hadn't flown at all, not really. It was just a trick of your mind to distract you from reality.

This sort of happiness doesn't last.

" I don't think so, You're too pretty to give credit to the moonlight, " his whisper was soft, adding to the spell she was slipping beneath. Her heart was up in her throat. She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to scream at him no. She was thirsty again, very thristy. Hearing him talk about her beauty, which she was certian didn't even exist, terrified her and stole her words. Oh, Goldburn, I'm sorry. If this was what he felt like when he thought of Shatteredmirror . . . And he never got to see her!

" Have you ever had the chance to watch the sunrise before, Thymeheart? "

His eyes were on her. Was she supposed to be saying something? Was that a question he had just spoken? Its like having greencough and being unconcious. Only . . . its pleasant.

"I've seen sunrise's with my brother. But I never paid much attention. The river sometimes goes orange, so it looks like fire when it moves." her voice dropped.

Maybe, just maybe, it really was possible to fly.

tag FIAH!
muse building . . . building
character Thymeheart
notes You're my literary inspiration, Fiah.

[/size]

[~All I Need]

F l a r e

{ YOU'RE NOT A JUDGE, BUT IF YOU'RE GONNA JUDGE ME

[/color] }
{ THEN SENTENCE ME TO A BETTER LIFE[/color] }[/center]

" Don't ask about your mother!!

[/color] "

Flare whimpered lightly in the back of his throat as Shadowfire's massive paw came on his head. His vision immediately blacked out as an explosion of pain erupted inside his skull. A shrill siren filled the air and Flare realized that it was his scream. The cry of agony spewing from his lungs punctured the air and made Shadowfire clench his jaw in pain.

" SHUT UP!![/i] "

It grew silent as the ginger and white tom sniffed and wiped his paw over his nose. Shadowfire watched him with cold eyes as Flare got to his feet and stood there, his gaze trained on his own paws. Flare blinked his multi-colored eyes rapidly, trying to clear away the red haze that had started creeping in the corners of his eyes. Oh, ow-wow-ow... The tom groaned quietly and shook his head to clear the ringing.

" Look at me, you sorry excuse of a cat.[/i] "

Flare kept his head low and looked up, terrified to meet his father's gaze. Instead, he kept his gaze high enough for Shadowfire to think he was looking at his eyes while, really, Flare was staring at the numerous scars on Shadowfire's muzzle. " Y-Y-Yes-s-s?[/i] " he stuttered, his mouth working to get the word out correctly.

Shadowfire's silver eyes seemed to burn holes in Flare's body as he continued to glare balefully at him. " You want to know something about your mother?[/i] " he whispered, his voice velvety but dangerous.

Flare said nothing.

" She was pathetic, just like you.[/i] "[/blockquote][/blockquote]

~¤

He lied, though, he pondered. Shadowfire really did love my mother. I think he loved--or still loves her--more than anything he had ever loved before. Shadowfire didn't mean it when he said that she was pathetic; every time I bring her up I can see the unconquerable pain in his eyes. He can try to hide it, but I will still see it.

" I've seen sunrises with my brother. But I never paid much attention. The river sometimes goes orange, so it looks like fire when it moves.

[/color] "

Flare nodded, his eyes closed in thought. After a moment of silence, he opened them again, a determined fire burning in them. " It's different when you watch the sunrise with someone...important. " he looked back up at the sky again, watching the first rays of light ting the edge of the sky a lovely green. Just like Thymeheart's eyes, he thought. To Flare, it felt like he was running and then finding himself in free-fall because he had gone off the edge. But instead of making him discombobulated or scared, it exhilirated him and made him feel strong. He got a taste of love and he wanted more. He felt like he would never be completely sustained, though.

The tom drew in a slow, steady breath and padded right up next to Thymeheart so their pelts could brush lightly. Though he said he wanted to watch the sunrise, he lied. All he could see was Thymeheart, nothing else but her. A small blush grew under his fur and he looked away, just in time to see a star tumble down from the sky. He nudged the fae gently with his broad muzzle and pointed at the falling star with an orange paw. His eyes glittered happily; yes, this was love... And he loved it.

As he watched the sun awaken , Flare pondered over what Thymeheart had said about the river. He looked down and watched as the fire in the water lick hungrily at the ice. Fire...and ice. It was then that he realized the name of the she-cat that had been haunting his dreams.

Fireice.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag; blackie, my lovely!
muse; i left it at the bottom of the ocean
notes; ( /sniffs)
thank you, blackie! you're my literary inspiration, too!
Thymeheart?!--»http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4479677/2/istockphoto_4479677_wild_orange_cat.jpg
i can fix that up for you if you like it.
lyrics; it's still ignorance

[Blackie]

its always the crazy times you wake up and realize


"Its different when you watch the sunrise with someone . . . important."

Thymeheart nodded, fixing her gaze on the water. Her heart fluttered a little. Who was important? Thymeheart would have been happy if it had just been Goldburn who, until recently, had been the most important person in her life. Now, she had Sleetpaw and maybe . . . Flare. But that was perhaps too much to hope for.

Staring back up, her reflection shimmered in the half-light like a phantom, Flare close beside her. She could feel his fur mingling with hers, making her catch her breath. Funny how similar they looked, as if they had been made to belong together. Their ginger and white coats blending in the water as one. She shivered, wondering if the other cat shared her thoughts. Were they so alike that they felt a mutual attraction toward one another? Could they nourish it and make it grow?

She almost flinched when he nudged her, directing her gaze to a zip of light speeding across the black velvet sky. A star. We used to wish on stars when we were kits, she remembered, purring fondly. She and her brother had cuddled against their mother, squealing whenever they spotted a shooting star, dreams and desires tumbling from their mouths. It used to be one of her favorite past-times, though neither of them had bothered with stars since their mother had died. It wasn't the same without her to listen to them and encourage their little hearts. Thymeheart sighed. She hadn't wished in a long time. Too long.

"I wish that Sleetpaw would learn to be compassionate and become a valued warrior." she mewed aloud, though softly because she was nervous. Would Flare think it silly of her to wish on the star? Whether he did or not, she had done it now. He might as well too. Maybe it would release the tension she was feeling. "What do you wish for?" she asked, tucking her paws beneath her. She felt very cold now, though her heart burst with flame. His reaction would speak floods to her. If he replied shuffling his paws and ducking his head, she would have a better idea of what he thought of her now. As a Clanmate. She found herself wishing that his wish would be something special. Something . . . important.


it takes more than your saline eyes to make things right

tag FIAH!
character Thymeheart
muse awful, sorry Xl
notes I love how you tied in Thymeheart's comment into Flare's Fireice thing! So cool!!
lyrics Crazy Times by Jars of Clay

[/size]

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ WHERE ARE YOUR GUTS TO FLY

[/color] }
{ SOARING THROUGH, THROUGH THE NIGHT[/color] }[/center]

" I can't take it. . . But you don't want it, either. . .

[/color] "

" Take him and leave; your son's name is Flare. "

With the epiphany of the she-cat's name, Flare was thrown into her past, experiencing it through both his and her eyes. It was as if Fireice was rifling through her memories, speeding by some in frantic haste and pausing on others. First, a snowy white fae with piercing purple eyes; Apparition. . . My mother.[/color]

Heat seared Flare's pelt as he watched a twoleg house become engulfed in flames, its inhabitants screaming in agony as their skin blistered from the fire and their blood boiled. The striped tom watched as the dead fae came barreling out of the flames, her multi-hued eyes wide with terror. " Apparition?! MOTHER!![/color] "

More faces flashed by in Flare's mind, Fireice naming them off with hatred, sadness, or love in her strong voice. Innocentsoul, Crowpaw, Dogstar, Goldenpaw, Tanshadow...[/color]

Flare shied away from the strong feeling of sadness and misery in the black and white femme's voice as she revealed a tan tom with a white underbelly and deep blue eyes. My mate. . . The father of my children. . .[/color] And then, hesitantly, Fireice brought up an image of three young cats. One was the color of magma, his pelt glimmering like fire while his eyes were the same color as his pelt. An unbroken golden stripe brushed his nose and traveled all of the way down his back to the tip of his thick tail. The second was a large dark tabby with eyes the color of stone, a darkness swirling in them. The third was a small and delicate she-cat with soft brown eyes and tan fur with a pink hue. I miss them all so much, the voice whispered wistfully in Flare's ear.

Wait--Don't go!! Your children. . . Who are they?[/color] he pleaded silently. But all the she-cat did was sigh and leave his mind with a choked sob.

" I wish that Sleetpaw would learn to be compassionate and become a valued warrior.[/i] "

Thymeheart's soft, melodic voice was like a gentle breeze that blew the phantom conversation away out of Flare's skull. The tom blinked, his forehead knit in confusion, and glanced at Thymeheart out of the corner of his eye. That one name, just two syllabes, threw the well-muscled tom into a cyclone of fury. His thick claws audibly scraped the ground as the striped fur on his shoulders bristled like hedgehodge quills. Trying to breath steadily, Flare closed his multi-colored eyes and attempted to regulate the way his heart was beating like mad inside his chest while acid dripped in his veins. Though he had tried to block everything out, he could clearly picture Sleetpaw and Thymeheart together, their tails twined together and unwavering smiles on their faces. Cool it, Flare. You've come so far, don't mess it up.[/color]

" What do you wish for?[/i] "

Eyes wide in shock, Flare craned his neck to look into Thymeheart's eyes, his own detached and slightly nervous. Wish? Normally, the beau would have scoffed at the idea, but he didn't want to disappoint the fae at his side. Looking down at their reflections, the ginger and white tom pondered over how he would answer. I wish Shadowfire would look at me with pride or love in his eyes besides hatred; I wish to know who Fireice is; to understand why my lineage is broken; for Thymeheart to see that I'm the one for her,[/color] he listed them off silently. Studying the two cats in the water, Flare could see how much alike they were. With their pelts brushing, their bodies were joined by an intricate pattern of ginger and white stripes and patches. Feeling the small shiver running through the fae's body, Flare pressed closer, enjoying the warmth her body provided. Thymeheart was like his tourniquet, cutting off all of the poison from his father's prescence in his life or the rancor of Sleetpaw. She cut off the blood to one or all of his limbs; yet that meant that there was more blood left to pump through his heart, warming him from the inside out.

Continuing to intently watch the water, Flare whispered, his words slow and hesitant at first, " I wish. . . " He swallowed nervously. " I wish for many things, but one more than any other. " He took a deep breath--This is it.[/i]--and straightened up to stare in Thymeheart's green orbs, his gaze unwavering. His body was angled towards the she-cat's, his neck craned at an awakward angle to allow him to see all of the ginger fae. The moisture from her breath froze on Flare's whiskers as he brought his muzzle really close to her, his thoughts slightly muddled as her sweet scent wreathed his head. " I wish you to tell me what you think of me, Thymeheart. " His voice, though slightly stuttering before, was now strong and full of confidence.

The sun's lengthening rays were setting the world on fire around them as the river started to giggle happily at the cats' feet. Flare's heart lept into his throat as he watched the she-cat's fur turn to fire and her green eyes glimmer like jewels. 'Cause if you jump, I will jump, too. We will fall together. " I love you, Thymeheart. "[/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag; blackie!
muse; me and me muze iz in da houze!!
notes; flare don't like sleetpaw!! that's right, flare said it! muwahahah! X3
lyrics; skyway avenue by we the kings (ack! i can't get that song out of my head!)

[/size][/right]

[Blackie]

its always the crazy times you wake up and realize


For one awful moment, the cat thought she had gone too far, too fast. The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity, breaking her resolve. She started to tremble, shuffling her paws nervously on the frosted ground. She shouldn't have hoped. She shouldn't have even thought. This whole night had been destined for disappointment right from the start, but Thymeheart had to be a dreamer. Even when there was nothing to dream about. It was all she knew how to do. When you live like a shadow, you learn to fantasize in order to maintain a sense of self-esteem. It was how you survived. Now her breath became shaky with shame, her gaze moving lower. She was in the midst of painful reality. Reality hated fantasy.

" I wish. . . " Flare started, making Thymeheart glance up. Her fur rose a little at the sound of his voice, thick and husky by nerves. " I wish for many things, but one more than any other. " He came closer to her, his eyes locking with hers with a gripping force. She couldn't avert her gaze, which she adamantly longed to do. To stare at him like this, when she was already frightened he thought her foolish, made her tense. Like a nervous deer that will flee when you offer a cup of seeds, never getting the chance to realize your act of kindness, Thymeheart wanted to run. She was afraid, deathly afraid. Don't tell me, she pleaded silently even though her heart yearned for his words. If she felt like dying now, she surely would if she never knew. She must know, no matter how she feared rejection.

Her thoughts boiled together, muddling by the surge of emotions over taking her. Her breath caught in her throat as the tom spoke again.

" I wish you to tell me what you think of me, Thymeheart. "

"I- . . . oh," her voice faltered, her heart plummeting down into the black depths of her soul. A chill spread over her body, numbing her mind. She still felt horribly irrational, her thoughts refusing to come together. She felt desperately lost. What did she think of him? But the words refused to come. Because words can't describe how I feel right now. She didn't know what to say, what was appropriate or what she wanted. She just felt lost. Totally lost.

"Well," she gulped, the professional, mentorly part of her she had just began to adopt taking over her now. "I think you . . . your a very good cat with lots of potential. And . . . and some of us have under-estimated you, but we, um, won't anymore." Her ears went flat against her head, almost hidden in fur if it wasn't for the white spot on her right ear indicating an outline. What a stupid thing to say! Flare was nearly as old as she was, what did she know about estimations and potential? She was such a mouse-brain. Such a dull-witted, clumsy-tongued, tripping mou-

" I love you, Thymeheart. "

Green eyes falring wide, Thymeheart didn't know what to do except stare at him in horror. It was exactly what she had wanted to hear, but she wasn't sure if she had dreamed the words. Or what if he really had said it, what then? What was she supposed to do?

"I," she gasped, but the words caught in her throat. She took a tentative step back. She shivered. It was very cold, icey. But her body blazed with nervous heat.

tag Fiah! My bestest lovely!
muse AUGH!!!!!!!! TRASH!!!!!!
notes I'm so sorry how bad this turned out Xl Give me time to jump back into my muse
lyrics Crazy Times by Jars of Clay

[/size][/font]

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ PAPER BAGS AND PLASTIC HEARTS

[/color] }
{ ALL OUR BELONGINGS IN SHOPPING CARTS[/color] }[/center]

If the sky were not clear as serene, Flare would have believed a storm was coming; a reason to the pent up tension in the air.

The tom watched Thymeheart with a calculating expression as the terror on her face blossomed. All of the confidence that had been living and breathing inside of Flare died. He felt like his soul had lost its grip on the edge and was tumbling down into a dark void; no doubt where his worst nightmares, concieved of the brain, would be waiting. The tom's green and blue eyes lost their luster and he turned away, refusing to let Thymeheart see the hurt and agony in his expression.

" I-- . . . oh. . . Well, I think you . . . your a very good cat with lots of potential. And . . . and some of us have under-estimated you, but we, um, won't anymore.

[/i] "

" Potential, " he hissed at the water, an unsheathed paw tearing at his reflection. He hated himself. He just wanted to die. " How can I have potential when my father smothers any chance I have of living a real life? " Snarling, Flare turned away from the water and padded a few fox-lengths away from Thymeheart before sitting down, his back to her. " I have no potential. . . Not for anything. "

Hearing Thymeheart's gasp of horror, Flare turned his head to look at the ginger and white femme. His eyes were cold as he took in her expression, her helplessness. What was she supposed to say if he meant nothing to her? But, deep down, he yearned for just the three simple words tumbling from her mouth; turned into music in her melodic voice. It would be like golden harps in his ears, but all it turned out to be was a melancholic dirge.

Feeling uncharacteristic rage boil in his veins, Flare stalked up to the small feline, his lips pulled up in a snarl. " You what? Don't love me? Fine! Is it Sleetpaw? It's him, isn't it! Or is it because I'm a filthy half-breed?! That explains why I've been 'underestimated,' " he hissed quietly, his tone mocking Thymeheart's earlier statement. At that moment, the tom reseambled Shadowfire; almost frighteningly alike. Flare's eyes were narrowed with an icy glow to them; teeth bared in a menacing growl; strong muscles rippling along his shoulders, the fur bristling high on his joints; and, worst of all, the undeniable hatred in his eyes. " I'm leaving. " Instead of his voice coming out strong and terrifying, it came out as agonized and pained.

With a last, cold glance at Thymeheart, Flare started to walk away, his plumed tail dragging on the ground. I can easily end this. . . All I have to do is ask Shadowfire to kill me; maybe he can do it as painlessly as possible. . .[/color]

( ooc=Fiah! nooooo, flare is suicidal! X3 the poor baby has been having a lot of meltdowns lately )[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

tag; blackie!!
muse; ( /pukes )
notes; flare and thymeheart forever!! guess what, i thought of a great warrior name for flare. . .flareblaze!!
lyrics;

[/right]

[Blackie]

Fear and nervousness had always been characteristic traits for Thymeheart. There wasn't a reason to be anything else when Goldburn had been more than enough for both of them. Stubborn, talented, blazing with confidence. Those things had never been developed in her. Many cats had tried: her parents and mentor had done their best to nourish some sort of self-esteem in the easily intimidated tabby, but her brother had always managed to smother her. And Thymeheart was comfortable that way. She wanted Goldburn to be the best while she stayed back to watch. As if it all were just a story she could walk through and enjoy. But suddenly, without a warning, she had been swept into the reality. Life was more than tales.

" Potential, " she shuddered, listening to Flare's voice. Generally, Thymeheart kept away when other cats were in a temper. She was always afraid of what they might be willing to do, or worse, how they would judge her in the heat of emotion. Yet though she pulled back now and fought the fierce urge to flee, she was kept captive by a familiarity in the one word, the way it was said. How many times had she thought to herself the very same thing? What was she worth, with her cowardice? Fear held no potential, only screaming faults. " I have no potential. . . Not for anything. "

"Flare," the ginger cat whispered, trying to control her wavering voice. She could see that her companions wrath was mounting. She had said the wrong thing, but it was too late now to take any of it back. Words were long lasting and unmerciful. They branded into the heart deeper than fire. She wanted to apologize; she was on the verge of repeating the words which had shocked her. He had moved away from her and she wanted to be close to him again. Fell the warmth of his body beside her in the cold, the strength in his limbs to comfort her and protect her against the shadows.

"I,"

" You what? Don't love me? Fine! Is it Sleetpaw? It's him, isn't it! Or is it because I'm a filthy half-breed?! That explains why I've been 'underestimated,' "

His outburst, though delivered in a soft tone, stunned Thymeheart. How could he say those things to her when she hadn't even had a chance yet to speak? Did he think it was easy, after living so long as everyone else's puppet? She was entirely confused about the Sleetpaw comment. Her apprentice had nothing to do with this, and after all he had been through he didn't deserve to be dragged into Flare's problems as well. Half-breed. Underestimated. She felt a spark of something she barely knew what to do with. But it turned out that she didn't need a clue. There was more to her than met the eye.

" I'm leaving. " he choked at her, glaring at her and turning away. His eyes were hard, cold. Had he missed her own green orbs? If he was cold, she was flint.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me, Flare!" she barked at him, surprising herself. She might have faltered and become submissive, but she was too angry. All of a sudden she saw Flare like she saw Goldburn: just a proud, selfish cat too busy to recognize anyone else. "You've no right to treat me that way. You are an apprentice, and I'm a warrior. Still your superior. If you really want to be that immature, then fine. Give Sleetpaw and Shadowfire and everyone another reason to dislike you." She caught her breath, the beginnings of a sob hanging in her throat. "I'm tired of cats putting words in my mouth." she whispered. "And turning on me."

She wanted to run away, except she didn't want to look weak. She wanted to go to him, but she didn't want him to win. She wanted to cry, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stop once she had started. She wanted Flare. Half-blood, tired, sad, under appreciated Flare. Who was so much more in her eyes, her mind, her entire heart. Thymeheart dropped her head, unwilling to to look at him anymore with the confused emotions of anger and grief.


_{Muse is SPITFIRE BABY!!!!! Ha, thank goodness for rage, this is Thymeheart's MOMENT!!! BREAK OUTTA YOUR SHELL GIRL!!!!!
-deep breath-
I loveth you, Fiah, you awaken the long dead muse}

[/size]

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ DON'T HESITATE TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING

[/color] }
{ FROM THIS NEVER ENDING DRAMA MONOLOGUE[/color] }[/center]

" Don't you dare turn your back on me, Flare!

[/color] "

The tom halted in his tracks, eyes wide in terror. Though the voice that spoke to him belonged to Thymeheart, all he could hear was the deep booming voice of his father. Flare's muscular body started trembling, the beginnings of a fit overtaking him. The striped tom's claws flew out of their sheathes and sank into the ground, blood seeping from the torn ligaments and staining his paws red. Breathing hysterically, Flare stretched open his maw in a silent scream. Not the pain! Not the pain! He turned back to the fae, a tortured, dead look plastered across his facade..[/blockquote][/blockquote]

¤*¤

" Don't you dare turn your back on me, Flare! "

Flare looked back over his shoulder, his eyes burning holes into his father. Shaking his head silently, he looked back into the shadowy forest, his gaze level as he took a step forward. For too long he suffered Shadowfire's irrational hatred; he was going to end it all right now.

The claws dug into his neck as Shadowfire lunged forward, putting his whole weight into the blow and driving Flare's face into the ground. Hissing furiously, Flare bared his teeth and aimed for his father's neck. But the dark tom was faster and dodged, his large paw crashing down on Flare's chest as he did so. A small snapping noise made the ginger and white beau gasp in pain, a confused look replacing the fury in his eyes.

Shadowfire backed away, a small chuckle escaping his throat. The dark tabby watched as Flare stumbled to his paws, a small stream of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. " D-Daddy? " he wheezed, the fractured rib pulsing with a burning sensation as his lungs expanded and contracted. " Daddy, I. . . I think you hurt me. . . " Flare's small voice grew quiet as Shadowfire's grimace turned into a mask of utter rage. The small kit stumbled back as the intimidating warrior stalked up to him, insane laughter bubbling at his lips. " Of course I hurt you, you little scum! " he spat the word, spittle flying from his maw and coating Flare in a thin layer of saliva. " I want you to hurt as much as I've hurt thanks to your ungodly exsitence! You know how many nights I've stayed up, plotting a way to just rid myself of your filthy prescence?! You were never conceived in love; you will never be loved. "

The tom-kit held back the whimpers that were itching at the back of his throat as his father turned away and disappeared into the shadows, his flaming paws being the only thing he could see of him. Flare would have cried out for help, but his rib was hurting too much to even utter a sob. Wiping the blood off of his chin, the tiny tom circled around three times before lying down helplessly on the ground. Pulling his thick tail over his scratched nose, Flare closed his eyes to the blessed darkness. Close your eyes and I will love you completely and always. . .

[/color]

Eventually, the kit's ragged breathing became soft and uninterrupted as they turned to gentle snores, a slight undercurrent of pain due to the rib. A cloaked shadow appeared out of the shadows, stood there a few minutes longer, and took Flare in its jaws before bounding back into the welcoming darkness.

That was when Flare was three moons old.

That was the last time he ever tried to break away from the undertow.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

¤*¤

[/u]

" You've no right to treat me that way. You are an apprentice, and I'm a warrior. Still your superior. If you really want to be that immature, then fine. Give Sleetpaw and Shadowfire and everyone another reason to dislike you.

[/color] "

Flare refused to look at Thymeheart, his spine angled towards her but his head and his paws pointed back to the direction of camp. The tom's wavering pride made him want to continue to yell at the tabby fae, but his broken heart was pleading him to hold his tongue. He sighed, his voice quivering in agony; closed his teary eyes. " Does that mean that you. . .dislike me, too? " he whispered under his breathe, a question that was really not meant to be answered. For it was really directed to himself, not Thymeheart. Flare was questioning whether he really was such a hateful and spiteful being that even he, himself, couldn't stand to look at the reflections all around him. Throwing up a foreleg as if in defense, Flare buried his face in it and cried, his face completely hidden from Thymeheart's hurt gaze.

" I'm tired of cats putting words in my mouth. And turning on me.[/i] "

Flare's old wound ached dully as he continued to sob hysterically, the tear ducts in the corners of his eyes burning like mad. The multi-colored tom turned back around to Thymeheart, his eyes pleading. The tom stumbled forward a few paces before he collapsed, his whole body twitching in misery. He covered his broad muzzle with two dish-shaped paws and curled into the fetal position, the incoherent cries muffled by the striped fur. The small star patterns running up at down his legs flickered dully, as if they were somehow connected to his state of mind and about to experience supernova. " I'm tired of being what you want me to be, " he sobbed, another spasm jerking his body. " Feeling so faithless; lost under the surface. . . Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes. "

The tom's voice gave out on him as he looked up at the ginger and white fae, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. " Please, Thymeheart, " he whimpered. " Help me. I can't stop it. . . Shadowfire is killing me from the inside out; he won't let me--oh, StarClan. " He broke off and crawled forward until his paws could grasp at Thymeheart's. " I'm begging you, Thymeheart; love me for the monster that I am. "[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

tag;

[/color][/font] BLACKIE!! ( /huggles ) my literary inspiration! my loveth lovely!!
muse;[/font] flare is my child of literature ( /huggles ) oh no! i didn't mean to hurt your rib!! ( /pats )
notes;[/font][/size] i just love mental meltdowns and verbal fights ;3
lyrics; the business of paper stars by hawthorne heights[/right]

[Blackie]

There were expressions like the world came crashing down or short of breath and sick to the stomach over a thing very terrible or sad. They were romantic notions, some of them, or at least colorful enough to give the imagination foundation to a foreign feeling. But the reality of such phrases was often disregarded by the lucky few who's lives had been too simple to be plunged into things like despair, terror, and blazing anxiety. Even some story tellers, who are fond of using words which paint vivid pictures, cannot fully comprehend what its like to be subject to the trials that birthed their favorite sayings. It can often be numbing, confusing, sometimes so apart of you that you cannot remember your forlife and you breath fear and cling to it as if it were the only thing you had left. You cry without a reason, cannot abide even the slightest sentiment, your temper is very sharp, and you grovel and spit in the same breath at the feet of those you love.

Thymeheart felt dizzy, watching the torrent of emotion sweeping off of Flare. She marveled at how it could all be directed at her, lapping around her legs like water failing again and again to climb the shore. A knew found sense of pain was blossoming inside her. She could feel it physically around her flesh and blood heart as if the soul really were contained there. It made her breathing quick and shallow; she feared she might faint if she could not calm herself. But she wanted Flare to be calm, too, and he was not. How could he be? His life was full of cats who nipped at his heels whenever he passed. Yet, there were also cats who loved him. Loved him very much. As he cried, hiding his eyes from her, Thymeheart felt trapped beneath a weight. She wanted so much . . . to go to him, be with him, comfort him.

" I'm tired of being what you want me to be, "

I only want you to be with me. Her mossy eyes misted, gazing hard at his trembling body, wanting to see his face even if he was defiant of her, hated her. She wanted him to be great, the best that ever was. She wanted him to soar above the rest of them, stopping cats in their pawsteps and winning awestruck, open-mouthed attention. She wanted him to force Shadowfire to love him and pride in him. But she wanted him to do all of that as himself, and she wanted to be there to help him.

" Please, Thymeheart, " she felt another jolt of mingled surprise and terror at the eyes he looked at her with. Was she the cause for so much crying, or was it the piled moons of being let down and let go.

" Help me. I can't stop it. . . Shadowfire is killing me from the inside out; he won't let me--oh, StarClan. I'm begging you, Thymeheart; love me for the monster that I am. "

"Monster?" she whispered, choking on the word as if it were bile. "Oh, Flare, you're not a monster. Don't say that." Almost without her consent, her knees buckled beneath her and she sank to the ground before him, but she didn't mind. Her chin stretched out so that it rested on his shoulder, her eyes closed to help block the tears. She breathed in the smell of his fur, locking the single moment in her memory.

"I love you."

She pressed closer to him, taking comfort in the strength around his shoulders, the rise and fall of his own breathing which helped to steady her. She wanted to be there, like this, forever.

"Don't let me go."

-wriggles- This is AMAZING!!!! I've never had this much fun with Thyme EVER!
-tackles Fiah- You an' me: awesome thread!!!!

[/size]

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ WE WALK THE PLANK ON A SINKING SHIP

[/color][/font] }
{ THERE'S A WORLD OUTSIDE OF MY FRONT DOOR, THAT GETS OFF ON BEING DOWN[/color] }[/center]

Ever since the beauty of words had been created, man and all living beings with working tongues of sound have tried their best to describe this odd world we live in. Sometimes, an anomaly confounds us and we continue to try, to grasp the new concept of life. But, like so many other things, it all just comes down to one thing:

Failure.

When in corporeal form, we will never be able to fully understand our lives. We will never be able to agree with all ideas of religion, any form of afterlife; we will never be able to live in peace with our brothers and sisters of every race and gender. There will always be confusion, madness, panic, hatred; the list may go on until we all give up the ghost. But one thing is for certain. . .

We all live and breathe because we have each other, because we are creatures created from love.

Not a single day goes by without someone questioning everything their life has been based on. If everything we know is a lie, then what is the truth? Are our fears the truth? That no matter what we do, we all get what we deserve and just disappear when fate beckons? Only one thing makes sense in this world of war and chaos; we all need to live as one and adjust to everything thrown at us. We embrace our heart's truest desires and hold them until they are ripped cruelly from us. Sometimes, though, not even that helps us cope.

" Monster?

[/i] "

Flare flinched under the weight of Thymeheart's pained voice. He shut his eyes tight, trying to block out all of the misery of his life and holding back the floodgates that were threatening to break. He felt like a small kit again, wishing for the mother that would never love him and adoring those that loathed him. All he yearned for was the soft pelt of another cat on his, soothing him and chasing away all of the demonic nightmares that somehow haunted him in the waking world. Oh, how cruel the golden rule could be. It held Flare down like chains, binding him to his philosophies of kindness; while others ignored the meaning of payback and lashed out at him with claws and words as sharp as daggers. Whimpering softly, he stifled a wail of agony that bubbled at his lips and tickled at the back of his throat. Before, he thought his father's hatred was the most horrible feeling he would ever experience; but now, all he could feel and breathe and see was the rejection in Thymeheart's voice. He wanted her. He wanted her to see that he wasn't as worthless as everyone made him. But, maybe, if he didn't have Thymeheart. . . Maybe he really would be worthless.

" Oh, Flare, you're not a monster. Don't say that. "

Emerald and sapphire orbs wide in astonishment, Flare looked up with bloodshot eyes to see Thymeheart lying before him, her own eyes pained and full of an emotion that made Flare's heart stutter. His lungs constricted in terror; this was it. She was going to break his heart, shatter it into a million pieces with a few simple, malignant words--

" I love you.[/color] "

A rush of air, as delicate as a butterfly's wings and as soft as the caress of a feather, filled the morning air. Flare's terror and agony was replaced with something so alien to him: happiness. . .relief. But, as the shock set in, he became so numb that he could barely feel Thymeheart rest her head on his shoulder.

" Don't let me go.[/i] "

Obeying the quiet command and against his own will, Flare wrapped his arms around the small fae. The same shocked look in his eyes, he rested his head on her shoulder, his mind a chaotic tornado of memories and the present. This was too beautiful; it just couldn't be true. Flare had been born a bane, a pernicious being that was destined to suffer. . . How could one person recreate his destiny, his story. Was it because Thymeheart had written herself into that story, making it brighter because her perfect existence was in it? Or was it because it had been the fact that he knew that, somehow, she was eventually going to break his heart? After all, the numbness that trickled in his veins just didn't seem right for this blissful moment; it dragged at the fading strength in his limbs and made his whole strong body go heavy with fatigue. Was this all a dream? Was he going to wake up with a gaping hole in his heart? Would Thymeheart be just a figment of his wishful mind and not even exist?

She was a part of him that could never die even if she did.

Closing his eyes, the dawning truth came to Flare: this was truly real. . .but it couldn't last forever. That was the horrible thing about it. He knew that he had to say something, just a few simple words to set this moment in history; to make it real. But, as Flare tried his best to breathe evenly, he knew he wouldn't be able to shatter the perfection of this moment. A tiny voice inside him--maybe Fireice, for all he knew--whispered to him to hold tighter, to make sure she couldn't be ripped away from him.

A hot ball of tears choking his windpipe, Flare held Thymeheart closer, burying his face in her downy fur. The tom ran her namesake scent--sharp and as tantalizing as thyme itself--over his taste buds, imprinting her essence in his mind. He was imbued with her prescence, filling him with love and strength that had never been there before. Shadowfire, Sleetpaw, everyone. . .they didn't matter anymore to him. They never really did. Eventually, he would jump into the abyss that held his unknown destiny. . . With Thymeheart right there, by his side.

" I'll never let you go; I promise. "[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

tag;

[/color][/font] BLACKIE!! Of course you 'n me=an awesome thread!!
muse;[/font] i swear to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that this is my best post with Flare. . .ever!! so emotional and passionate!! yesssss!! ( /dances and then trips over Flare's tail )
notes;[/font][/size] muse is a MONSTER, baby!! we will rule the world together!! ( /grabs blackie, thymeheart, and flare ) with you guys, of course!! =3
lyrics; don't you know who i think i am by fall out boy[/right]

[Blackie]

Few understand happiness, even less love. And those are rarely ever young. Children know it; their lives are not so full of ideas. Some of the very old also know it, often when its much too late to make anything of it. The rest are to full of themselves to pay attention to anything accept their own needs, wants, and desires. All the things that make them happy for split seconds. Which is why they are always struggling to gain, gain, and gain some more. Because of all the seconds of happiness they can make for themselves, that is all they receive. A second. And oh how fast a second can run.

Who, then, can open the secrets to our hearts, make us aware of what we are wanting? Ironic that we want with passion, yet we don't know what it truly is that our passion desires. No soul has been satisfied by this earth. It drinks blood, feasting on warmongerers, twining its material riches around our senses until our already wretched minds drip wickedness in our goblets full of fire. Completely indifferent toward or inner beings, we tip our heads back and guzzle the pain until we become drunken, stumbling around and searching . . . searching.

Yes, the world is very dark and despairing. But for every pain, there is a blessing hidden somewhere even if we refuse to find it. As love in a world of hate.

Thymeheart purred softly, her breathing becoming deep and filling. Her heart felt as if it had swollen and was threatening to burst her sides and fly away forever. How had she come to be here, small, insignificant Thymeheart who's timid life had never allowed for these feelings. Yet there she was, her body pressed close to Flare's. She was so content, so happy, so . . .

[/i]fulfilled.[/i] Finally, she had done something, accomplished something, been awarded something. Her purrs intensified when he moved closer to her. She might not have believed it, except ice from the river shore was stinging her paw pads, keeping her connected to reality. And she found that just as wonderful as being so near to Flare. There wasn't even a doubt that she had finally come to a place where she was not a shadow. Unless, of course, she was Flare's shadow in which case she was the luckiest shadow in the world.

"You're only a monster if you make yourself to be." she mewed gently to him, taking in the smell of his fur as she spoke. She didn't understand why Flare invisioned himself so horribly, when all she could see was a cat pure of heart. He shouldn't be allowed to degrade himself so much; it obviously hurt him. And if he was hurt, she was hurt.

"We should go back to camp." she whispered. "Before we're missed."[/center][/size]

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ WE WALK THE PLANK ON A SINKING SHIP

[/color][/font] }
{ THERE'S A WORLD OUTSIDE OF MY FRONT DOOR, THAT GETS OFF ON BEING DOWN[/color] }[/center]

We only want to sing you to sleep.

Hatred birthed out of unrequited love, love birthed out of those tired by hatred. Two completely different entities; two completely self-satisfied creatures loathing and living off of the other. So much like starstruck lovers, their hearts imbued with pure bliss and their eyes sparkling as their hands clasp around the other's, binding them by a simple contact of flesh. But the blood pounded feverishly under that flesh, drawing in their love's essence and carrying everything back to the heart, where it would feed off of the eternal rays of love's light and continue to walk through this cruel world of night. Many live their lives with contagion grudges weighing their hearts down, destroying the happiness of young lovers. Like a dark storm cloud that would dampen the euphoric mood, drowning the youth with child-like minds in a dark, wretched sea.

And, sometimes, light won't be able to reach the darkest trenches; meaning no hope, no saving.

Flare's breathe caught in his throat as Thymeheart's gentle purring became a strong thrumming in his heartstrings. The tom listened, his eyes closed in concentration, as he felt all of the hideous scars overlapping his heart disappear, their silver fingers caressing his heart one more time before walking away into the abyss. He would never miss them; they had been the aftermath of all of his belligerent antagonists.

Though he had believed that this heavenly moment would not last, it had stretched out, filling his whole life with the meaning of this one night. Flare sank down closer to the ground and leaned onto his side, staring up at Thymeheart with adoring eyes; a large, flaming paw resting on hers. Self-consciously, he smiled wistfully, confirming the sad truth that had would never be able to bring justice to her beauty by simply closing his eyes and remembering it. Fruitlessly attempting to prove himself wrong, he shut his beautiful eyes and frowned slightly when all he could see was nothing. Looking back up at the ginger and white fae again, Flare gently let his paw glide over the she-cat's paw, twining them together in the end. He sighed happily and rubbed his muzzle against hers lovingly, his deep purrs many pitches lower than Thymeheart's.

" You're only a monster if you make yourself to be. "

Flare's soft purrs of pure bliss halted as he stared at Thymeheart earnestly, his paws moving to gently cradle her face. Unable to stare into her lovely moss eyes, his own moved down until they were staring sightlessly at the ground. " Oh, Thymeheart, " he managed to whisper, his eyes glazing over with a thin film of tears. " If only it were that easy. But. . . It's just not like that. My life is governed by what Shadowfire believes and says. Though he hates me so much, he let's me live; granting me my life no matter horrible it may be-- " he broke off in thought before eyeing Thymeheart carefully, his gaze unwavering. " Well, no matter how horrible it used to be; before you made it brighter. I may not want to follow it, but what Shadowfire says is law. . . " Flare sobbed quietly and bowed his head, comforted by the warmth emanating from the she-cat next to him. " And he says that I am a spiteful monster; a being that should have never been born into this world. Don't you see, Thymeheart? " he gasped as he took her paws in his, shivering with the fear of his father's wrath. " It's not even my life; it's his. He had lived through so many horrible things, and some sick part of him yearns for those same experiences and relives them through me. I'm just a puppet--nothing more. "

Thymeheart is right, my dear brother; you are what you achieve, pursue, to be.

[/color]

Flare's eyes drifted away from Thymeheart and over to where a powerful she-cat was standing by the river, her pelt glimmering dully with ice and her paws glowing magnificently with flames the color of lava. Flare fought the urge to respond to Fireice; for he feared Thymeheart being alerted to the prescence of the deceased queen. What am I to do, Fireice? Save your children from the clutches of evil; break my father's pride; stand up to all of my foes? I'm not strong, Sister. I am just an ordinary cat born to a broken legacy.[/color]

Fireice padded forward silently and touched her nose to Flare's forehead, her sightless eyes burning holes into his skull. A determined fire was burning in the gray depths as she spoke again, her voice a gentle breeze among the trees to any other cat who heard. Not just any broken legacy, Flare. But a legacy of shattered stars; a family of tormented spirits. I promise you a peaceful life and a place among the pantheon of our ancestors if you fight to bring our family together, to guide them back onto the paths of light.[/color]

Flare looked away and sighed, his forehead knit in worry and concentration. After a painful moment of silence, he responded Very well. I will find your children and make them realize--[/color] he broke off as he turned to look back at her. . . But saw nothing. The fading image of her became mist as a gust of wind drew it away, spreading it across the river and through the mighty forest. Flare shivered at the ominous feeling in his gut and tried to clear Fireice out of his mind, but to no avail did she disappear.

" We should go back to camp. Before we're missed.[/i] "

" Then let them miss us, " he laughed as he affectionately blinked at her. But, against his wish, his stiff legs stretched out from beneath him and he held out a paw to help the ginger and white fae up. " I meant what I said earlier, " he whispered quietly. " You look beautiful in the moonlight. " And then, he leaned forward on his toes and brushed his muzzle against the side of her face, relishing in the feeling of a deep, well-buried connection between them. It was as if they were destined for each other, completing the other and helping them through thick and thin. Though, in Flare's case, mostly thick.

" I love you, Thymeheart. Always have, always will. "[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

tag;

[/color][/font] BLACKIE!! ( /tackles )
muse;[/font] it's. . .BEAUTIFUL!! ( /dies )
notes;[/font][/size] my muse is only getting better
lyrics; don't you know who i think i am by fall out boy[/right]

[Blackie]

you might not believe your eyes if ten million fireflies
lit up the world as i fell asleep

"It's not like that, Thymeheart." Goldburn growled, pacing the riverbank. His heavy coat was dripping with water from his swim, tiny icicles forming like teardrops. Thymeheart watched him, her expression sad and nervous. His amber eyes were hard, flickering with the weight of his emotions. "She's so much to me. But it doesn't matter. I never see her anyway." He finished bitterly, baring his teeth at the ground. His sister flinched, remembering when he had snarled at her for calling him a traitor. She had been so frightened when she spotted him on the ThunderClan border that she didn't check herself when she blurted all the things she had been dying to tell him. Some were worries and some were hurtful.

"Then why do you keep going back?" she whispered. "If she doesn't meet you, why do you keep going back?"

He looked at her. Never, not even when Fallowfoot had come to tell them that their parents were dead, had she seen him so defeated. And so angry. "Because I love her. he hissed, and walked away.


******************


Poetry was inspired by times like these, where dreams awoke in their flower-petal beds like bright little fairies. In the first breath of wonder, they yawn and bat their round eyes before throwing out their arms and telling you their names. Victory, Accomplishment, Passion, and Desire. Then, laughing with clear voices, silver and floating, they shake sparkling wings like new butterflies and alight onto your cranium. Come away! they squeal, injecting you with their ambition to soar even higher than the bravest eagle. And not just for the sake of dreams. For others, happiness, love.

Thymeheart's tail flicked against the frosty ground, her eyes closed happily to the oncoming orange light. This was the sort of image that flickered at the back of little she-kits daydreams. The dawn of not only the most beautiful day, but an all new life. The beginning of everything that would forever shape her choices, bring her joy, and sometimes pain. But pain wasn't to be dwelt on. It would come, it always did, yet what was life without a little hurting? It was how kits learned to avoid danger, apprentices master their skills, . . . how the heart learned to communicate, relate, and live.

"My life is governed by what Shadowfire believes and says. Though he hates me so much, he let's me live; granting me my life no matter horrible it may be-- Well, no matter how horrible it used to be; before you made it brighter." Thymeheart pulled her head back so she could look at him, a sad smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She didn't like this kind of talk. In her opinion, Flare allowed Shadowfire to control him. The younger tom was perfectly capable of standing up to his father, if only he would try. "I may not want to follow it, but what Shadowfire says is law. . . "

"No," Thymheart mewed, reaching up to drag her tongue over his forehead, its barb-like quality pulling a knot out of the fur. "Shadowfire might intimidate you, but no one said that you must listen to him."

" And he says that I am a spiteful monster; a being that should have never been born into this world. Don't you see, Thymeheart? It's not even my life; it's his. He had lived through so many horrible things, and some sick part of him yearns for those same experiences and relives them through me. I'm just a puppet--nothing more. "


"Or maybe he wants you to fight it. What if he wants to prove that he was strong by forcing you to be." She met his gaze with a far-off expression. The idea intrigued her, the angry father living through his son. Maybe that was why Shadowfire didn't like him. Maybe Flare reminded him of himself. For a moment, the prospect of a mystery story excited her until she remembered who was in the story. Not just Flare, but Thymeheart too.

" Then let them miss us, I meant what I said earlier, You look beautiful in the moonlight. "

Thymeheart broke into an immediate purr, lifting her face to accept the tom's caress. Her emotions were a whirlwind just now, zipping from nervous and sad to blissfully happy. The entire thing was almost dreamlike; she was afraid at any moment she might wake up and find that Flare was as indifferent to her as if she were a flea. Finally, she could understand Goldburn, at last her brother's behavior over the last few moons was making sense. She knew, beyond doubt, that she would do anything, go anywhere for Flare. Even if he didn't love her, if he failed to notice her, if he had hated her. It was infused into her being to do for him and be for him.

"And I meant what I said." she said softly, standing up beside him and leaning gently against his shoulder. "You are not a monster, Flare."

" I love you, Thymeheart. Always have, always will. "


"More than I love you?" she purred. "Not a chance."



cause they fill the open air, leave teardrops everywhere
you'd think me rude but i'd just stand and stare

[/color]

tag Fi! My wunnerful sister friend! lol
muse Very strained -.-
notes So, like, this took me forever 0.0
lyrics Fireflies by Owl City (HAD to use it, its been branded to my brain X])

[~All I Need]

Flare

{ YOU HAD TO HAVE IT ALL

[/color][/font] }
{ WELL HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH[/color] }[/center]

Intoxicating and addicting. A sin and a blessing. Love has been described as Jove's nectar and has been burdened with the misnomer of the sinful fruit. Thankfully, it has been blessed with characteristics of both; for how can you feel the rush if it isn't forbidden and live weightless like a god? The golden liquid of the deities runs through your veins and melts away whatever palace you have built up around your heartstrings, yet it strengthens you against whatever life has to offer. Love is the kin of intoxicating and persuasive dreams.

But what part of our minds harbor these elusive fantasies? The conscious or the subconscious? Is love in the head or the heart? Against our deepest desires, there are forces higher than us that control what we do or how we feel. Who are we to think that we own the world at our fingertips the second we open our eyes. Being the most complex organic compound on this planet, the eye acts as the doorway into the soul. It reveals our emotions while the foolish tongue cleverly weaves false truths. Yet why should the doorway be the most easily accessible thing? Shouldn't it be something that is deeper? Such as the heart itself? All one has to do is glance into the eyes of their companion and see the love there, or the hate, the spite, the happiness. . . But if the heart was the true doorway to the soul, it would be a much more complicated task to rip it from the rib cage prison it is contained in. There have been those that have fancied lies and taken a liking to deception; such magical wonders it is to be able to portray a completely different personality in the eyes than what one is feeling. But what about those that are blind to the drab world? Could it be that they are destined to walk in darkness forver, or are they able to "see" through the ruses others put up around themselves.

" No, Shadowfire might intimidate you, but no one said that you must listen to him.

[/color] "

Flare looked up at the ginger tabby with distant eyes. He smiled sadly at the frown on Thymeheart's lips and the contemplative glimmer in her green eyes. The well-muscled tom purred weakly as the fae's tongue brushed his forehead. His plumed tail flicked back and back like a pendulum as he grew hot under his fur as he scented the air, which was wreathed with Thymeheart's scent. He had never felt like this before; the way his heart beat like a tribal drum, the euphoric sensation of truly walking on clouds, every one of his senses had been heightened to enhance Thymeheart's beauty. . . And her flaws. But Flare was blind to that; love was truly a mask of deception.

" Or maybe he wants you to fight it. What if he wants to prove that he was strong by forcing you to be.[/color] "

The tom chuckled drily and rolled a polished stone around in his paws. He watched the way the cold drops of water formed sparkling beads as he spoke, " Well. . . Then I guess I've proven for us both to be weak. " Though it was delivered in a quiet tone, a heavy burden weighed down Flare's deep tenor voice. He couldn't help but think to himself how anything could be accomplished from his agony. If his own father wanted him to be strong, than shouldn't he have taught him not to committ the same wrongs? Why continue the horrific tradition by giving in to it?

" And I meant what I said.[/color][/i] "

The striped tom got to his paws and looked down at Thymeheart with cautious and expecting eyes. He couldn't help how the trepidation weighed his paws down to feel like blocks of granite. Truth was, Thymeheart had said many things; Flare couldn't help but worry if it was one of the condescending comments.

" You are not a monster, Flare. "

Blinking, the tom didn't respond but laid his head on top of hers, his ears pressed flat against his skull in embarassment. He may not have been born a monster, but Shadowfire had tainted him with his shadowy past.

" More than I love you? Not a chance.[/i] "

The tom smiled wanly with a gentle push, his eyes bright and cheery. A deep, playful growl built up in his windpipe and he crouched, hindquarters rocking back and forth. " You would be surprised, " he murmured, his voice still husky with nerves. " I've admired you for a long time. " He shook his head slightly and growled as he advanced on her, bright eyes soft and innocent. Pearly teeth were bared in a confident smile while paws prowled with expertise. Unfortunately, the sun hadn't risen enough to throw light on the wicked fragment of glass that lay waiting in the shadows. Though Flare didn't put much weight on it, the skin ruptured and blood sprayed the glossy stones. As if quietly laughing in haughty victory, the glass stayed where it was, blood pooling on its razor-sharp tip.

Flare swore as he limped on his left foot, the other one quickly growing numb as more blood seeped out of the wound. Luckily, none of had wedged itself in; yet he was quickly bleeding out my the laceration. " Great, " he hissed, his voice strained and raspy. " Just g-great. . . " Flare's voice died out as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he lost his footing, his large paws tripping over each other. " T-Thymeheart. . . " Was all he could say before his eyes closed and he collapsed against the bank.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

tag;

[/color][/font] BLACKIE! my beastly frister! ( Sister and friend in one word, so epic! XD )
muse;[/font] holy crap that was bad. . . I promise it'll get better, though. Dx
notes;[/font][/size] I'm so sorry it took this long. Really, I am.
lyrics; had enough by breaking benjamin (turns out that I reaaaally like this band~!)[/right]

[Blackie]

you might not believe your eyes if ten million fireflies
lit up the world as i fell asleep

When inspiration is lacking, story tellers turn to heroism and romance. Every tale and fable has these three things : the good, the evil, and a one true love. Mystery, horror, comedy. There is the hero and the enemy, the downside and the upside, the beautiful girl to be desired often by both ambassadors of either extreme. Writers can create, build sensations, pull words from dark corners to mold a vivid picture of beauty all out of love. The interesting thing, the amusing realization, is that love, though cloaked in finery, is blissful at first. Blinding and unreal, there is no logic. There is no hold on reality, just the pleasant drowning in runaway fantasy. And its this, the infatuation that steals our minds, that blossoms into songs and epic stories. No one talks about the afterward. No one wants to remember the tests to come, the challenge, the demand for truth. If the love was ever strong enough to withstand pain, or was it so weak that the tiniest flame would cause its pretty wings to erupt, in a flash becoming nothing but cinders on the wind.

This would be Thymeheart's first opportunity at being tested. Being a mentor was one thing; if you failed, you could try again, letting someone else take your charge while you practiced on a less committed level. She hadn't been sure if she could handle the hot-tempered Sleetpaw, but her apprentice had accepted her authority willingly, making her task so much easier.

UNFINISHED


[cough/obviously I'm trying to inspire myself XD/cough]



cause they fill the open air, leave teardrops everywhere
you'd think me rude but i'd just stand and stare

tag Fi! My wunnerful sister friend! lol
muse It went to Jupiter, but I'm creating a stimulator that I can plug into a wall whenever I lack inspiration.
notes AUGH!!! WHAT DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND NEARLY KILL HIM FOR?! I DON"T HAVE THE MUSE FOR THIS
lyrics Fireflies by Owl City