[graves]

Originally Posted by amo

@woly

He is proud, and he has no shame about it.

The moor’s soft heather paths were cool on Cuckoosnarl’s pawpads as he sluiced into camp, confidence lining each hollow his claws left as he trotted onwards. A breeze rolled its thin, dainty fingers through his pelt, and he flicked an ear at the sound of a bird frantically flapping away, not far off. Squeezing through the entrance of Windclan’s camp, Cuckoosnarl flicked his tail, smoothing down the fur on one of his shoulders, checking himself for the scent of the feline he’d just met with. There was a time where he had to be subtle about it, but as the moons meandered by and he became more and more overt, it seemed like Larkfall had seemed to stop… trying to bring himself to care.

Cuckoosnarl wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be hurt, but he appreciated the action. At least it wouldn’t weigh down his conscience. Besides, the ticked feline felt about as satisfied as a tom like him could. He had absolute faith in the fact that he was more than capable of getting away with what he was doing. His mate wouldn’t do anything; he was sure about that much. Larkfall knew better than to speak back to him, of course.

The smaller tom was easily visible by the camp’s furthest wall, and Cuckoosnarl quickened his pace into a trot, his claws still unsheathed from his ‘patrol.’ Raising his head deftly, as he approached the smaller tom, his tail lashed as he brazenly mewed, “And where have you been when I asked for you?” Perhaps it was a little hypocritical to treat him like this when he had let him down countless times, but he could make allowances for himself. His mate was supposed to have better training than this, wasn’t he?

Larkfall seemed to be staring vacantly into the distance, at the horizon where the orange-and-blue sky and hills met, but so much further. Like he was seeing past the sky, past the stars: as if he was looking at nothing at all, and yet was gazing into the essence of everything. Or maybe he was just considering where he’d gone wrong, why Cuckoosnarl barely had time for him any more. No matter.

Regardless of what Larkfall thought he had done wrong, the ticked tabby was able to grab onto that doubt, let it play into his paws. The fact that his mate was insecure about what he was doing wrong made it so much easier for Cuckoosnarl to get what he wanted, and he always got that. Leaning down exceedingly close to Larkfall, he softly purred, “You know what happens when you disappoint me, love. Don’t let it happen again.”

larkfall was staring at the sky before his mate came up to him. he was thinking again. he woke up earlier this morning to cuckoo leaving their shared nest for a patrol. the calico came off as an airhead at times, but he was beyond intelligent. it hurt him more then words could describe. when he first helped him into windclan they seemed so happy, so in love, so...dedicated. how did they get here? where almost every day he could smell other cats on his mates pelt; he basically reaked of any scent then his own. was there a step he had missed to not ear his mates full dedication ? was there something he had to earn ? did he do something wrong ? he wanted to scream the question, cry the question out so desperately, but once hearing that familiar purr, that tone of voice, he flinched on instinct. he was silenced. avoiding the toms gaze, he looked towards the ground,¨I-Im sorry..it wont happen again, I promise.¨ please dont hurt me. the tom knew to well what it felt like to be under cuckoosnarls claws. what it was like when he talked back, to be under him getting punishment. he shivered at the mere thought, the purr in his ear that he wouldnt mistake as anything but a cheerful threat.

but despite all of that, larkfall loved him. sometimes he would pretend that cuckoo wasnt seeing other toms. that they were in the some state of mind when they had first met. so happy...it made the calico smile. he loved him, and he loved him back, right ? he had to. he had to he had to. larkfall had no one else, atleast thats what he was convinced. cuckoo had to love him, it was the only thing keeping him going, those simple three words that he would be fed every once in awhile to be kept under this trance. not thinking to much about the threat, he looked back up to him with a nervous smile, could be seen as rather forced,¨m-may i..er..nuzzle you?¨ it had come to the point that lark was to nervous to give affection without asking. depending on cuckoos mood, sometimes he didnt like to be touched. sometimes he said tha tlarks touch repulsed him, and other moments hed be mumbling things in his ears how hes his one and only, the only one who could give him physical affection like that. so, it was always safe to ask.