Faustian | warrior cats

xvii | that lonely feeling

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HOLLOWHAWK let out a long breath. It soared from the deepest point in his lungs and rose into the air like a heavy cloud. His breath fogged the windows of his soul and smudged the real him on the glass. The deputy didn't know who he was anymore and he wasn't certain of the sight he had just seen- was it all real? The tom could still feel the sharp imprints of Lionsun's claws collaring his neck. He couldn't fathom the fact that his death was as close to only being a grasp away.

"I can't believe you," Larkmoon's tired huff cut short of the Hollowhawk's thoughts. She looked down at herself in disgust, seeing another tom's warm blood sticking to her fur made her want to crawl out of her own skin. She curled her nose, "This is all your fault. Why were you two fighting?"

Glancing between the ginger-coated feline and the bloodied corpse, Hollowhawk felt sick to his stomach. His insides tossed and turned like great waves, threatening to spill from his throat. "That doesn't matter," He grunted, gripping ahold of his stability. "What matters is what we're going to do with Lionsun's body." The ocean of nausea quickly flooded into something a bit more drowning: panic. The tabby tom began to shake his head vigorously, jittering as fear flew down his veins. "I can't take him back!" He exasperated. "The Clan is already suspicious of me."

Larkmoon's face fell into a frown, she had never seen the Herculean tom so unsettled. She couldn't help but wonder from which garden his nerves were sprouting from, fear or guilt. "Of you? Why?"

Hollowhawk cast his skittish eyes away, not having the courage to face the unwavering she-cat. "Because I keep bringing in the bodies." Larkmoon opened her jaws as if she were about to scold him but the brown tom beat her to it. "I can't leave them there for someone innocent to stumble upon. They deserve a burial, at least." Returning his gaze to meet his companion's, Hollowhawk had only realized how cold she had become. Larkmoon no longer looked sympathetic and soft; staring at her was like watching the last autumn leaf fall. Winter had arrived. "Don't you have any guilt?"

Once again, Larkmoon loathed the way Hollowhawk watched her. She could read his judging eyes clearly and the sharpness of his tongue cut a hole straight through her heart. She was not a monster. "Of course I do!" Larkmoon hissed back, "Do you think I enjoy what's happening to me?" But the deputy made a fair point. She wasn't a monster but the creature inside her was. She was too dangerous to be kept alive. How long would she wait until she weighed in the guilt? Larkmoon exhaled as an answer was aroused in her head. The she-cat threw her head upwards, absorbing her eyes in the endless blue sky. She knew what she had to do. "Hawk, you have to kill me."

The tom huffed, "Have you learned nothing?"

"StarClan will forgive you-" Larkmoon crept forward, skillfully sliding her paws closer to her friend. Her expression deepened, her dark eyes were now overshadowed with a beg. With fur as red as blood, she looked vain and hopeless.

"No." With each stride Larkmoon placed forward, Hollowhawk took one back. "There's no way." He pulled his gaze away from the sinkhole of her craving eyes. He would not allow himself to get sucked into her collapse.

"It's the only way- you have to!" She protested, "Don't you hate me for what I've done? To the forest, to our Clan, to us-" Her last words were so real, Hollowhawk could've sworn he felt the ground sway beneath them. "Look at us." The two cats were known for never being apart; if you were searching for one, you would always find them with the other. Now, the same cats stood several lengths apart, separated like the sun and moon. They were disfigured, decorated in scars and blood stains from head to claw. They looked as though they had marched through a war and back. And peace was nowhere to be found.

Larkmoon's tone toughened. Alongside the bodies she had dumped, everything soft and beautiful about her voice was buried. "You should despise me for what I've done."

Hollowhawk simply shook his head. "Larkmoon, you could kill a hundred cats and I'd love you all the same." He never lied. Hollowhawk told the complete truth, despite how badly it stung him; his other scars hurt more. The truth was: Hollowhawk loved this she-cat no matter what terrible things she had done. She could take his own life and he'd still love her from heaven. "You're asking me for too much. I don't have the heart to kill you."

His words certainly shut her mouth. Larkmoon no longer found the urge within her to speak up and argue with him. She persisted silently, searching for something to say. Since Hollowhawk had wiped her previous solution from the board, she wondered, "Then what do you suggest I do?"

The large tom looked around the empty clearing. He studied the wildlife of what made his home and quickly concluded that his home was standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer. He sucked in a breath, fighting away the feelings that would only lead to more strife. "I think you should stay here. You need to be away from home so then you can't hurt anyone else."

Larkmoon's face drooped at his response. She was a saddened leaf, swooping down to crash into the ground of harsh reality. Hollowhawk pitched up again, hating to see her upset, "There's a lovely spot next to the river. It's cool and there's always lots of prey around." When the she-cat still refused to brighten, Hollowhawk filled the space between them. He embraced her thin figure in his swarm of fur, nudging his nose into the nook of her neck. "I promise I'll come and visit you. You won't have to be alone."

But these days, Larkmoon was never alone. She always found herself accompanied by Deadrush. He never left her; whether he was in her thoughts or scratching at the insides of her soul- he was there. Finally bouncing her head in agreement, Larkmoon gently said, "I'll stay here."

The two ThunderClan lovers stood in a silent atmosphere, letting the noise between them die. They simply stared, falling into each other's eyes. They existed, wondering where all the time had gone. It slipped through their silver claws before they even had the chance to clasp it.

After several still seconds, Hollowhawk awoke the sleeping sound. "Well, I should head back now." He spared a quick glance towards the limp body of Lionsun. A shudder traveled down his spine. Pulling himself away, the tabby cat began to travel back to the ThunderClan campsite.

Larkmoon watched him go, feeling a shout rise in her throat. "Wait- Hawk," She tripped over the pile of words in her throat. At the call of his name, he turned around to gaze at her, his long ears pricking forward to hear what she had to say. "I- I feel the same," The ginger feline stammered nervously, the hair on her neck rising to reach for the sky. Her whiskers grew into tiny flames, making her face blaze in heat. "I love you."

Expecting him to bolt back to her, Larkmoon awaited his warm embrace. But nothing happened. The handsome tom solely ducked his head and spun back around in the other direction. He proceeded on the trail to ThunderClan, the brown in his coat slowly fading away as he walked farther and farther. Larkmoon gripped at the ground as she watched him go. His departure reminded her of what it felt like to be in StarClan; watching as her loved ones lived without her. She made the deal with Deadrush to ensure that she would never feel this way again. Yet, here she was, breath in her lungs and that lonely feeling trickling into her skin. 

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