breaking curses and other extreme sports [private]

[ghostwriter]

@bmkmb :0 the plot thickens...

Falconglare's interest piqued. Before her involvement in the Dark Forest, she had never been a devout believer in fate. But as she stood across from the troubled warrior, she had to believe that fate had entangled them, and their parallel histories.
"A way to break their influence?" she questioned aloud, now deeply invested in the warrior's account, "It's all I want." she confessed.

[nocturnal]

// @ghostwriter — It does… now to see where it goes. [Also, it's your turn with Fargrim/Verdi/Lion.]

"Then we shall see," Talonstone replied. He evaded his gaze; stepping away from Falconglare, he approached a lighter brown-barked tree. Solemnly, he placed his paw against it.

The tomcat momentarily turned to the younger warrior and explained, "I do not know whose mind we are in, whether it be yours, mine, or a combination of them both. The oak tree shares nothing."

With a slight sweeping motion of his tail, the shadowdweller shared, "When I escaped my mentor's grasp, I found myself in a state of great despair. However, we have no way to subject you towards that feeling… nor do I wish that unto you. Additionally, I bested my mentor in battle prior to his temporary disappearance. We are trying to withhold you from yours; that will not do."

He cast Falconglare a wary glance. "You mentioned that once you opened your mind to them, they would not retreat. How so? Were they subconsciously influencing your thoughts? Forcing you to perform questionable actions? I believe that the way to break their connection is somehow tied to the mind."

[ghostwriter]

@bmkmb (ugh, I'm so sorry about that! I'll get to that ASAP, sorry for the delay)

Falconglare listened and nodded, thoroughly surprised--and truthfully relieved, at how accurately Talonstone understood her predicament.
"Yes...I was obsessed with revenge. I trained with them more than I trained with my own clanmates...they became a part of me. I started hearing them while I was awake...their voices were so loud, so compelling, and yes...yes, they drove me to do things that I regret." she confessed, her voice low and measured like the crackling of embers, "I suspect...I may have to confront them...to abandon them for good." she concluded.

[nocturnal]

// @ghostwriter — No worries, it was meant as a friendly reminder, not necessarily a bump.

Frankly, he'd already loathed most felines of the Foreverdusk enough before they decided to trap him and Falconglare in here… where here was meant to be.

"If that is the only way, then you may not have much of a choice," the warrior agreed. He continued wandering around the area, not leaving far past the clearing, but exploring where he could without the risk of unintentionally destroying the mental landscape.

"Is this scene familiar to you?" Talonstone prompted. Whenever he appeared in his mind, red poppies hid somewhere in the portrait. It was… his symbol. His symbol of death. Alongside them came oak trees, though pine sometimes dominated for one or two nightmares. He saw no poppies, which hinted that they stood in Falconglare's mind, but perhaps not. If she couldn't detect any symbolism in the frame, then they might as well be stuck until they unravel the mystery.

[ghostwriter]

@bmkmb

Falconglare followed his lead, padding through the undergrowth, eyes narrowed as she tried to recollect the training grounds where she had encountered her nefarious mentors so many nights before. Who was the first cat she ever met in the Dark Forest?
Then it occurred to her--Pikefang. The ruthless RiverClan queen with a penchant for brutal murder.
As the memory resurfaced, so did its origins. The moss began to melt away from the clearing, replaced by a sandy hollow encircled by tall, shadowed pines. At the center of the ominous scene was a stark silhouette, and a pair of gleaming emerald eyes.
"Ah, the infamous traitor returns...and this time, with company." Pikefang hissed, stalking forward, her shaggy russet pelt clinging to her bedraggled frame.
Falconglare's blood ran cold, her heart thudding madly in her chest. She glanced briefly at Talonstone, fear manifesting in her eyes for the first time.
"Y-yes. I have returned." She answered slowly, "For the last time."

[nocturnal]

// @ghostwriter

The frosty tom followed as their path took shape, content with Falconglare leading the way. She would know the passage better than him since they seemed to be traveling from a blank spot to somewhere specific to her, though he mentally paused there. Should he be more concerned that he spent enough time in the Foreverdusk to know the ins and outs of the mind? Perhaps. Some would certainly disapprove.

Talonstone watched stoically as the master took shape, and he steeled himself when the student glanced at him. Prepare yourself, he thought, directed towards the newest warrior. It will do you no good to appear weak.

He dipped his head very, very subtly towards Pikefang, recognizing her as a powerful feline. Someone, perhaps, on par with his own mentor… and that was saying something. The shadowdweller dipped into the shade then, not planning on interfering unless one or the other reached the verge of death.

[ghostwriter]

@bmkmb

Falconglare seemed to understand Talonstone's taciturn sentiment, and stood tall, rolling muscular shoulders beneath her brindled pelt.
"We taught you everything, my dear. Taught you how to stalk, how to feel your enemy's heartbeat through your paws...how to kill, swiftly, accurately. And yet you betray us, for the very thing you swore to eradicate. You know I must kill you, Falconglare." Pikefang growled, stalking closer, her eyes ignited with haunting fire.
Falconglare didn't waver. Now was the time for reckoning, for closure.
"You will try." She replied, her voice low and steely.
Pikefang cast a curious glance in Talonstone's direction, "You seem familiar...a student of a...friend, perhaps? Either way, thank you for delivering this traitor to my claws. There is no room for wavering conviction, of course."

[nocturnal]

// @ghostwriter

He had expected ignorance regarding his presence, yet when promoted, the warrior responded, "He speaks of you. Albeit not in the kindest of tones." Talonstone left the 'he' in question open to interpretation, trusting that Pikefang knew who the frosty tomcat referred to. His mentor was not subtle when challenged directly; the mentee knew full and well what role the powerful molly held concerning his mentor's motivation to make him stronger. Hopefully, his faint connection with Pikefang didn't bother Falconglare, though he doubted that it wouldn't.

With nothing else to say, the warrior seemed to fade back into the shadows, content with observing the curious scene playing out in front of him with no intentions of interfering unless absolutely necessary

[ghostwriter]

@bmkmb

Pikefang flashed jagged teeth in a bitter smirk, “I should hope so.” She growled.
Falconglare circled the RiverClan phantom, center of gravity low, tail lashing as she she prepared herself. For the first time in a long time, her mind was quiet. She knew what she had to do.
Pikefang, as usual, was first to strike, lunging at the smoky warrior with claws and fangs bared. Falconglare, however, was no stranger to Pikefang’s methods, and dove for her belly, dragging fearsome claws through the ginger she-cat’s pelt.
Pikefang let out a hiss of fury, the blood seeping from her midsection nearly black in the dim forest.
“You insolent traitor!” She snarled, whipping around to face Falconglare.
“Your hate clouds your judgment, Pikefang. It sharpens mine.” Falconglare hissed, preparing for the next barrage of attacks.

(So sorry I’m late on this I’m swamped :0)

[nocturnal]

// @ghostwriter — [No problem; I've been running late on replies, too. If you wanna just write out the rest of the battle without waiting for Talon's mental commentary, feel free.]

The warrior watched the scene play out in front of him. Apprentice turned against mentor; the mentee attempting to best the master. Claws met flesh, neither holding back. It reminded him not of his battle with Stormgorse, but of his frequent spars with Lionpaw back in the day. His final fight against his first teacher had been short and sweet—bittersweet. All it took was one fateful slice to the neck, and the tyrant fell, only to return moons later, disrupting the peace to haunt him in his sleep. Whatever. Talonstone was somewhat fond of his mentor, anyway, in his own misguided mind. He wanted Falconglare to win this battle, for it to be some kind of closure for the young thundercat warrior. She seemed to be winning, but he didn't want to think too soon.