she dies without direct sunlight [locustflight]

Squirrelfang tried to redouble her efforts of squirming, her ears twitching a little dubiously at Locustflight’s words. A scoff echoed out of her throat, but it warped into another laugh in the middle of Locustflight’s sentence. The bicolor tabby grunted, trying to get her paws up enough to put them underneath Locustflight’s chest. Who would have thought that her Clan-mate would be so difficult to shove off? There was a nip—playful—at the tip of her nose, and she found herself fighting laughter again.

How was this even possible? Most of her Clan tiptoed around her—heck, even her brother Chipmunktooth seemed to think she’d spring on him just as soon as look at him. Squirrelfang knew that was a product of her own attitude, and thus she couldn’t exactly blame them. She was wild, unpredictable even with her Clan-mates. But… Squirrelfang had her limits. She might cuff a cat, but she’d never attack someone who didn’t really deserve it.

Sometimes, however, Squirrelfang was afraid that other cats were… scared of her. That maybe they didn’t trust her, or her temper. Sure she was a fire brand, and she’d always been fierce, but the idea that some of her Clan-mates genuinely seemed to think that she’d line her nest with their pelt was… disturbing. Unnerving, extremely upsetting. She’d never say it to any cat, but it hurt her feelings to see the way that others walked around her as though she were thin ice ready to break and plunge them to a death. Except in her case the ice would be melting over the pit of an inferno.

It wasn’t like she was blind, she’d definitely noticed it here and there.

But Locustflight didn’t seem scared—not even earlier. Amused, yes. Playful, definitely. But afraid that she’d attack him? Or even afraid that she’d lose her temper? No. It was refreshing to be around a cat that might have understood something about her—that, while easily flared up, her anger was never something that necessarily remained in a grudge if it was something small. Squirrelfang got angry so easily that, in the end, it all tended to blur together. Unless there was a reason to stay mad at a cat her anger would sputter and die out. It wasn’t exactly unimportant, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. It was just… her. The way she was, sometimes she got mad. Sometimes she couldn’t hold it in.

There was nothing wrong with that.

Locustflight, who was willing to nip the end of her nose, who had just decided he’d be an annoying furball didn’t seem to think like them. He was a breath of fresh air that filled her chest with warmth and relief. She found herself thinking, I don’t think he’s even a little startled by me.

The mere thought gave her so much joy she could hardly sit still. Still, with an exaggerated groan the she-cat flopped her head back. A purr was still rumbling steadily out of her chest, and she could hear her heartbeat in her own ears. The she-cat squinted down the end of her nose at Locustflight, where he’d made himself at home in the soft fur about her chest. A snort leaked out of her, followed by shaking laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Squirrelfang snorted, baring her teeth in a mock snarl. The effect was entirely lost because her eyes were warm and happy, and she was still purring so hard that she was half certain they could hear her all the way back at camp. She squirmed her shoulders a bit more, thumping her sheathed paws gently—and half-heartedly—about the shoulders for a few moments. “Look! You can’t stay there Locustflight, how am I gonna be a proper warrior if I’ve got you lying on top of me like I’m your nest, ya big furball?”

She thought, suddenly, about the fact that she wouldn’t exactly mind sharing a nest with Locustflight. The idea flashed through her head quickly, but her heart still sped up despite herself. She was all over the place today. Squirrelfang snorted, trying to heft her hindlegs out from underneath him.

“Call me comfortable! Ha!” Squirrelfang wasn’t going to claw at him, but she was going to attempt to kick him off. She stiffened, bunching all the muscles she could in her hindlegs, much as though she were intending to jump off the forest floor. “We’ll see how comfortable you are!”

With an exaggerated battle cry—she hoped no cat was nearby trying to hunt because if they hadn’t startled everything between here and Fourtrees before she was sure she had now—Squirrelfang tried to throw the handsome cat off of her. Did she just think of him as handsome? Er. Uh. Squirrelfang tried to throw the completely normal looking—but look at those eyes and that shape of his face and—okay you know what? She stried to shove Locustflight off. There.