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Just-Rosa

Illustration and Pixel Art
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Finally opening these back up again because I really enjoyed making them! Only a few slots though, as I could see myself getting swamped with them haha! You need to have some kind of idea of what you want for your icon.
If your animation is very complex I may need to charge a little extra but I'll discuss that with you first!

Here are some examples of my work:

 




100 Points for non animated, 200 points for animated icons.

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:bademoticon: 
Snakebite awoke with a start in the dark. His head spun with confusion as he tried to get his bearings. He wasn’t where he usually slept, somethings wrongsomethingswrong- He shook his head. No, nothing was wrong... he was a warrior now. He slept somewhere different. Despite his reassurance of logic, the fright was enough to set him on edge and leave him unable to settle back down... he felt a little trapped from where he was so he got up and padded further into the camp. It was still dark out, but the sun would soon start to kiss the starry sky and pale it in the early morning sunrise. Snakebite sighed and stared up at the still starry sky. He was happier than he had been in a long while. Things had been bumpy but he finally felt like he was starting to really take control of his life... the dark-furred warrior took a moment to glance back at the sleeping silver and white shape near where he had been resting. That cat had been a big part of how he was feeling now... Troutspark had changed his life for the better and he could never fully repay him for that...

Fish 
Troutspark’s dreams were hardly vivid, dark monochromatic visions that flitted away the moment his eyes blinked open when the cool press of dawn or the warm rays of sunlight dusted off his subconscious and burned away all recollection of the night. He has bigger, stronger glimpses if he woke up mid-dream, brief entanglements that only made sense while he slept. He woke up abruptly that night, not even a little disorientated but heavily so, and his neck aches from the odd angle he had splayed himself at. He didn’t recall what it was that woke him but his thoughts and muscles were languidly, so surely nothing bad. He reached out drowsily, mind a fogged mess until his paws grasped at air. The illusion broke easily, not that he was aware of who he had reached for, but he shuddered with disorientation and glanced around. Slowly, he was aware that Snakebite wasn’t there. He fumbled to his paws, an awkward lurch as his blood rushed warmly and unevenly to his legs. His mouth was practically full of cotton as he loped over to his friend, his scent unmistakably among the others. He sat down, weight heavy on his front paws. He didn’t ask if he was alright, both of them had their downs sometimes, so he muttered with a hoarse voice instead, “Can’t sleep, huh?”

:bademoticon:
Snakebite's ears twitched at the sound of a cat stirring behind him. He didn't turn but his ears swivelled back to listen closer. The dark-furred warrior mused as to who it could be... He hoped he wasn't the one to wake whoever it was and they were on their way to yell at him - He hadn't been that loud, had he? He stiffened ever so slightly when he head the pawsteps turn towards him. Perhaps he had been too loud? However his fears were soothed when he heard an oh so familiar voice. Snakebite purred happily and turned his head to smile at Troutspark. "No.. I'm afraid I cant..." he sighed a little. "What about you? What's got you up at this time? I didn't wake you by moving, did I?"

Fish
Troutspark flattened his ears against the cold and practically did everything but sit on his friend; at times like these, he envied his friend's warm coat, dark and plumy, resilient against the cold winds that nipped that capped the ocean at night. He could see the stars blink lazily ahead, languid in its beat, but soothing all the same. He was used to sleeping out at night, with only entwined branches as a barrier. While the cold wasn't something he missed, it had been the cosier with the blatant room everywhere, with only sand as true company. Not to say that Snakebite wasn't fine company on his own - perhaps some of the best he has known. His jaws split in a yawn. It had been unsurprisingly difficult to crawl out of his nest, but warmth was only a weak illusion in comparison to companial comfort. He shuddered and slid a bit further back from where the wind was strongest, shoulder fur fluffed up spectacularly. "What? No, you didn't wake me," he commented. While his friend's words meant very much to him it was hard to grasp at them when he was still half asleep on his paws. "Nothing important, I believe I've forgotten all about it." His whiskers twitched and he rubbed at his eyes and willed the sleep away, his voice a raspy noise as he exhaled, "Why can't you?"

:bademoticon:
Snakebite watched his friend with gentle blue eyes. He could see him puff up against the cold - poor Troutspark had a fairly short coat... no doubt it didn't keep him that warm. The dark-furred warrior shifted slightly and moved his tail further behind Troutspark, welcoming him to sit closer and gather warmth if he wished. He smiled slightly in relief when his silver companion assured him that he had not been the one to wake him. "Oh, that's good..." he mumbled. "I would hate to be the reason your rest is disturbed..." Snakebite listened as Troutspark further explained that he didn't recall what had awoken him - Snakebite accepted that answer. He couldn't help but snicker as Troutspark rubbed at his eyes, apparently still waking up. He was about to make some remark about his sleepy appearance when Troutspark enquired as to why he had woken up. Snakebite turned his head away for a moment... Despite things being better recently... sometimes the past still haunted him. He had dreamed of Mark and all that had happened yet again... 'Actually...' He thought, 'I would call it more a nightmare than a dream...' Snakebite sighed heavily and turned his face back towards Troutspark. Here goes... "Oh, Uh... I just had a..." he paused, considering if he really wanted to tell him or not. "A nightmare."

Fish
Troutspark was not typically a prideful cat by nature and while he may be embarrassed to get caught at times, he relented and gave his best friend a drowsy smile, one that creased the edges of his eyes by the unusuality of it. Snakebite's gesture did not go unnoticed but he didn't take advantage of it too much beyond pressing back on the length of his tail at his side. "Don't worry about it," he conceded, "the first moon is always hardest, then you just get used to it. Do you even feel the cold?" His whiskers twitched and he blinked his eyes languidly, still tired enough that he could simply slink back into bed and doze off within minutes if he wanted. The cold helped little to wake him up - from where he made his nest, it was only moderately warmer there.
"Hardly, I don't have undisturbed rest, anyways," he scoffed, more joke with a harsh undertone truth than a jibe to rub at his friend. "So it's hardly your fault - not that it is, but don't worry about it if you kick me awake sometime anyways. I'd have probably deserved it." He gave a languid roll of his shoulder, docile in his posture but sharp in his tongue, "But if I trash in my sleep and wake you up, kick me in the face or something as compensation. I'd rather not disturb your sleep, either." He unfolded his ears slightly and flicked them forward and slightly shivered at the frostiness that nipped at his face then. His initial reaction had his mouth twitch into a smirk but Snakebite's earnest tone had him pause, reconsider then exhale sharp enough. "You're being serious, aren't you?" he sighed. Not with - disappointment or annoyance or anything of the sort, but mainly the fact that he ... wasn't surprised. Half of TideClan was already distressed and suffered from lack of sleep or other, delusions that their mind tormented them with. He genuinely thought that Saltpaw and Nightheart were the only ones who weren't as greatly affected. Dawn knew that it had affected him so badly that the repercussions were almost lethal. He wasn't sure what had affected Snakebite so - they hardly talked about their own problems - but he tentatively brushed against the topic anyways, tone tentative, "Do you want to talk about it?"

:bademoticon:
Snakebite felt warmth in his chest when Troutspark gave him that drowsy smile - it just about made him giddy. Troutspark just looked so... perfect sitting next to him in the light of the slowly paling sky. He gently curled his tail a little further around the silver and white cat as he pressed back into it. He hoped he wasn't crossing a boundary here. He couldn't help but laugh when Troutspark made a comment about his ability to feel the cold. "Well, actually...." he flashed him a sly smirk. "At the moment I'm toasty warm in my fur~" Snakebite's eyes widened when Troutspark mentioned kicking him in the face. "I would never!" he exclaimed, "Not unless we were having a spar." He flashed him a grin, "In which case I wouldn't go easy on you~" Snakebite felt worry claw at his chest for a moment when Troutspark's mouth twitched upwards at the mention of his nightmare. However, he relaxed once Troutspark seemingly reconsidered. "I am being serious..." He affirmed and looked away. "I... I would like to talk about it, I think..." Snakebite looked back to Troutspark with sincere eyes. "I've never told anyone else this...."


Fish
Troutspark flicked his tail, a slight brush against Snakebite's as he drew it a bit closer around himself. It rested limply next to his own flank, about as warm as when he had dragged one of his paws down his face. His paw pad had been warmer than the full length of either, though, which might have said something if he didn't know that pads generally produced a decent amount of body heat. He had half a mind of outright cuddling up against Snakebite, as the tom seemed to have no inclination of personal space. Not ... that he particularly minded, Snakebite was his best friend and one of the few he would allow the most extreme of physical interactions with. He gave a slight sigh, the exhale heavy enough that when he inhaled it was with a sharp intake of fresh air and he shuddered. Gross. A flash of irritation contorted his face enough to a disgusted grimace, sharp and unbidden but not ill-intentioned, "If you ever say that to a cold cat again I wouldn't be surprised if you were promptly sat on to steal some of that warmth." His expression softened marginally then altogether, "Although next time you say that I'll shove my freezing paws on your face, see if you like that."
He tilted his head somewhat, a brow would have been quirked if it had been possible, although the humour lit up his silver-blue eyes pleasantly and his mouth quirked just so. "You know, I don't think we actually did spar like we meant to. If it didn't feel as though I'd freeze my tail off, I'd toss ya into the sand, you short grass snake." He stuck his tongue out a bit immaturely then, but the rough up upwards at the corners of his mouth gave away his jest and well-meant humour. "If you went easy on me, I might not forgive you for it. Or, I guess, forget it." His voice wavered then with uncertainty - while he wouldn't be below forgiving Snakebite for going easy on him, it'd plant that doubt that he did go easy on him thereafter.
A prickle of unease ran down his silver-white plaited fur and he rolled his head on the base of his neck where his skull conjoined to glance skywards. The frigid air felt cool in his nose. He closed his eyes, pale lashes against equally ghostly fur. His exhalation was slower this time. There's a gurgle of unease in his gut at the thought that Snakebite would share something so earnest with him, despite how close they were. "You're sure you want to tell me?" He puffed out a wispy breath of air and it brushed against his eyelids, a gentle caress that had him blink over in Snakebite's direction before he craned his neck down with a slight crack that had him wince. "Are we ... trading secrets or are you comfortable enough to tell me without a return?" He ... could probably talk about Mosspaw if prompted, but it was such a foreign notion that it had boggled him - a thought that hadn't even properly flitted in his mind's eye. He had never even considered the possibility of telling him, let alone anyone else. Nobody had cared enough to ask, to question of where his habits rose from. Yet, here Snakebite was with a offer of - something - some kind of truth that had him nearly stop breathing. In that moment, he would have listened to and accepted anything. "I won't tell anyone, that I swear."

:bademoticon:
Snakebite was carefully aware of Troutspark's movements. He felt the tail twitch beside him and wondered if he had overstepped a boundary... He let out a small sigh. There was no point in worrying himself over that - it was already done. The dark-furred warrior's mouth curled upwards in amusement as he saw the irritation in his companions face. Snakebite laughed when Troutspark mentioned being sat on. "I'd claw them if they dared!!" Despite his threats, the relaxed nature of his body and tone suggested there was no real danger behind his words. It appeared the tom was starting to soften a little... He snorted when Troutspark threatened to put his cold paws on his face. "Not that I would mind warming up your feet... but using my face to do so would be a little weird..." he poked out his tongue at his silver companion before shifting ever so slightly closer - perhaps in an attempt to make true on the comment about warming him.
Snakebite's eyes shone in the slight light, a small sparkle of playfulness as the two spoke of sparring. "As if! I could send you sprawling in an instant and you totally know it~" the dark-furred warrior leant back in mock offence. "Short grass snake?? How dare you!" Despite his complaints, he was happy... Even though it was meant to be a light-hearted insult, it made him happy. It felt like a nick-name. Snakebite grew more serious when Troutspark mentioned going easy on him. "I wouldn't want to hurt you... but I know you could take it! I would never go easy on you." He nudged him a little, "That would be a major offence! I respect you more than that..."
Snakebite steeled his breath, feeling the cold claws of his nerves clutching his chest. He knew this would be hard... but he had hoped he could force himself to throw it all out there before he had the chance to back out. And here Troutspark was - giving him the chance to back out... He shook himself vigorously and looked into Troutspark's eyes - the eyes he had come to know so well. He could trust those eyes to lead him to the ends of the earth. If he could do that... then he could tell him this. "Of course... You're probably the only cat I could trust to tell this to..." He swallowed the lump in his throat a couple times until it stayed down. Despite himself, his paws had started to tremor. He shook his paw hard in an attempt to snap them out of it - it didn't work.(edited)
He silently cursed his own body for betraying him and looked back to Troutspark when he mentioned the trade of secrets. "Ah... I hadn't originally intended for that, but you can tell me anything if that's what you want?" He took a moment to flash his companion a reassuring smile. "I'm here for you too, you know."

Fish
Troutspark wrinkled his nose carefully after he had inhaled a bit too much of the cold air. It chilled the back of his throat and he had to squint his eyes nearly shut to prevent himself from a sneeze. “Are you just going to sigh everytime something troubles you?” He inquired as he flexed his ears back from the negative nips of the wind there. “Claw them?” He asked incredulously, tone dry as he blinked the closest eye towards Snakebite open in something easily discernible as amusement. “They’d be completely justified in that. I’d sit on you myself if I had’ta.” The silver tabby opened his eye eye and gave him a languid smile, “Keep complaining and I’ll honestly do it. I won’t back down.” However, there was a feral edge to his grin, a sudden maliciousness but when accompanied by a slight aloofness as well, didn’t seem to settle well on his face. “Just because that is a fact we both know to be true does not mean I will not attempt to hold my ground anyways,” he pressed his tongue to the back of his front teeth and his jaws slightly parted with the curl of his tongue the next time he flashed him an easy grin. “Yes. As someone who is shorter than me, I have dubbed thee Short Grass Snake. Totally harmless but really cute, so I’m meaning I’m not too worried about going up against ya in a fight.” His chuckle was light and airy, a slight scratch — something he hadn’t done in so long but felt right here. The comfort of his - yes - best friend beside him was unmentionable, completely indescribable for someone who rarely even had a friend, let alone a best one. “What? You actually respect someone? Tawnysplash is gonna flip her fish when she hears that.” He let out another noise of amusement as he shook his head. While he never could get over his own animosity towards the medicine cat, it was ... nice in a way to find out that someone shared his sentiments towards her. “But .. thank you all the same.”
However, the pleasantries died away easily when he felt the quiver of unease in his friend. There was next to no hesitancy on his end to settle his tail along his flank for reassurance. There was no lack of intensity in Snakebite’s gaze and it frightened him on some primal level - to be trusted so thoroughly, to completely and wholly that it unnerved him. It — wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it overwhelmed him to know that, to be subjected to that truth. Perhaps it had been the fact that he himself trusted few cats - he trusted the dark tom with his life, but there was no amount of hesitancy on his part when he thought of the offer to bare himself so completely to him. To be made a potential victim to the awful, potential truth that was the possibility that he could be destroyed so completely with the burden of his own secrets. And yet ... here was Snakebite with his own ... He knew silence could be condemning but he didn’t trust his own words at the moment so he nodded. “Thank you,” he tried to say but he wasn’t sure if the words managed to escape his maw. Troutspark tried to go for a smile but it didn’t settle on his mouth easily as it watered and whispered away easily, “Yeah. It’d just be hard to talk about it aloud, depending on which one you want to hear.” His brother and the accompanying guilt or the ... potential truth of what had happened after, that he refused to acknowledge that only swamped his dreams afterwards, so shut off in the back of his mind with next to no acknowledgement. Both truths were hard to admit, and both were aching bruises that had never truly gone away. What truth had Snakebite had hidden so thoroughly? So completely that he only now chose to speak of it? “I won’t hold it against you if you decide to keep quiet still, though. Some secrets are better left buried, I think.”

:bademoticon:
Snakebite snorted when Troutspark made a jab at his sighing. He hadn't even realised how habitual sighing had become. Out of gentle spite, he let out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Oh woes me....!" he added for extra effect, raising a paw to rest against his forehead. Snakebite chuckled for a small moment before turning back to Troutspark and lowering his paw back down. The dark-furred warrior huffed a little when Troutspark mentioned that cats would be justified in sitting on him in the cold. "I don't want them on me!" he protested, pouting slightly. "I don't want some random cats touching me!" the pout softened into a more neutral expression as he turned back to his silver companion. "I wouldn't mind if you sat on me, though..." he blushed in embarrassment, realising that sounded a little... odd. "I-I mean! I know you! So I wouldn't feel weird about you touching me!" Snakebite stammered out hurriedly, likely digging himself into a bigger hole. He decided he had made a bit of a blunder of that conversation and decidedly changed the subject with haste, moving on to Troutspark's next comment. He had called him a short grass snake, explaining that Snakebite was shorter than him so it made sense. "I suppose you're right about the height..." He blushed when Troutspark continued explaining that he was totally harmless but really cute. He decided to ignore the rude comment about how he was harmless and instead focused on the fact that Troutspark had said he was really cute. After a few moments of hot embarrassment filling his chest, Snakebite worked up the courage to reply in a more flirtatious manner. "Aw, Troutspark! You think I'm cute~?"
Snakebite snorted when Troutspark commented on the fact he actually respected someone. "Yes! Believe it or not, I am actually capable of respect!" he trailed off before flashing Troutspark a mischievous grin. "Just not in her case!" The dark-furred warrior smiled warmly at his companion when he thanked him nonetheless for the display of respect. "No worries, Troutspark..." He felt Troutspark's tail settle along his flank and he leant into it. The small display filled his chest with a soft, reassuring warmth. "I'm happy to listen to whatever secrets you would want to share with me... But I'm just as happy if you want to drop the subject and keep them to yourself. I'll respect that." Snakebite steeled himself with a deep sigh, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from tweaking up slightly when it made him think of Troutspark’s earlier comment about his incessant sighing. “Well….” he started, unsure of where to really begin his story.
“When I was just a kitten… my parents abandoned me. I didn’t know why to begin with. But now I realise they just never wanted to have children.” Snakebite felt his blood boil ever so slightly at the thought of his parents but he shook his anger away - this story wasn’t about them. “My name was Damien back then… Eventually I wandered far enough that I collapsed and was near death. Thankfully a nearby kittypet found me and brought me home. Her name was Joan and she nursed me back to health.” Snakebite smiled happily at the memory of Joan. She had been so warm and kind to him and being in her company had made him feel like he was one of the most important things in her world. “But I couldn’t stay with her for long. Her twoleg didn’t want me.” He huffed, that stupid twoleg… “So she told me of the groups of cats she knew of. She couldn’t leave to take me to the clans… so she got her brother to take me instead…. His name was Mark” Snakebite’s breath caught slightly as his story continued on to Mark… this was becoming harder and harder to talk about. “He was uh…. He was my age and very friendly. And so he set off with me on the journey to these clans. As we went on we grew closer.” Snakebite hesitated - he didn’t know if he wanted to mention how he felt about Mark. “I uh- I started to fall in love with him, and I think he felt the same.” he shuffled his paws nervously, eyes averted away from Troutspark - he couldn’t look at him.... Couldn’t stand to see the look on his face when he told him what happened next. “He became my family. Eventually… I started to worry about what would happen when we reached these clans. Would he leave me and go home? I didn’t want to lose him.”
Snakebite paused, breath caught in his throat. “He picked up on my mood and suggested we go for a swim to relax for a bit. And you already know this, but I couldn’t swim. I complained about that fact but he assured me it would be fine. We could stay in the shallows.” he gritted his teeth. “I foolishly agreed. We went into the water. Mark swam out further than me because he loved the water. I don't know what happened exactly… I think there was a current or something but he got pulled under - hard.” Snakebite felt his eyes starting to well up and his paws shook. His voice choked. “I was a coward… All… All I could do was watch! I was scared! Mark called for help and I didn’t move” He held back a sob, the tremors now shaking his legs as well as his paws. “He screamed again and I finally jumped in after him, but I couldn’t do anything! I could barely swim and the waves dragged me down too. Last thing I saw before I got dragged down was Mark being engulfed. Next thing I know, the waves crashed me up ashore and I couldn’t see Mark anywhere.” Snakebite began to cry, now, slowly raising his head to look up at Troutspark. “I killed him. If only I had protested! If I had been stronger! If I had acted sooner he wouldn’t have died!” his voice raised louder before he dropped his head back down, body wracked with another sob.

Fish
Troutspark had initially been amused, had felt warm affection curl beneath his ribs like a passive paw and settled there. He would gladly rib him again about the sighing if he could, if the moment prolonged enough for the mood to settle and the jibe to slip past. But then Snakebite spoke again, words crisp and clipped and Troutspark felt the openly warm expression on his face fold. If the dark-furred tom’s nightmare was fueled by his past, it promoted every feeling of dread that settled through him like a haze after he started. He didn’t speak, knew that sometimes a tirade was the best way to let things out, that if interrupted one could see it as unacknowledgement or worse, lack of empathy, towards their situation. He remained silent but his tongue pressed thickly against the back of his teeth with each punctuated word. The facts settled into the bog of his mind messily seemed to dissolve until Snakebite continued on with far more emotion than he had bore witness to before. He might have asked if Joan had meant more to him when he spoke of her so highly like that, but the expression he had worn was enough to dissuade the thought. His comments about Mark was another knot in the previous question, but then arose the next one of ‘fell in love in what way?’ and the latter affirmed context of the comparison to a family threw him off further. Everything afterwards was a thick mess of raw emotion and facts that both startled and shamed him.
The guilt festered beneath his gut sorely and as the silence stretched on - only then had he realized that Snakebite had finished - he absorbed the story, tried to make sense of it in his head. So many of his traits seemed to culminate from what he had been through and yet .. was it right to blame his personality on his past almost exclusively? Did all thorn-mouthed cats like them suffer horrific backstories? He realized too late that perhaps he should have said something, even if it was the weak affirmation that he understood and was there for him - the words were weak, he knew, cats could say them but they’re the weakest form of proof that they had - and he cleared his throat to speak - then cleared it again because he was still at a loss for words. What was someone supposed to say to something like that? ‘I am sorry for your loss’? Those words were even worse than the aforementioned ones. Troutspark shifted slightly then tensed at the openness at his back and glanced fervently around, suddenly aware of how open their conversation was. Would Snakebite be ashamed to be caught like this, if someone saw them now? He moved a bit more, a slight implication of obscuring him from sight just in case under the guise of adjusting how he sat. It also gave him a moment to consider what he wanted to say.
Snakebite’s desperation and selflessness admittedly scared him, the anguish and the pain. It felt like an returned echo from a cave that he had screamed into when he was a kit - he had long since thought it empty, uninhabited. Never would he have considered that it opened up on the other side. It … felt like a sudden realization that there was pain everywhere, that he wasn’t alone. That sometimes others couldn’t move on, either. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, voice tighter and higher than he thought it would be. He cleared his throat and glared at the ground, so easily lost to the tide of thought. ”If I had acted sooner he wouldn’t have died!” He closed his eyes sharply and the mental imagine of bloodied paws shied away from the shadows of his eyelids. His voice began and ended with a tremor when he started with, “I don’t know what to say to that other than - than things you’ve probably heard before. The ‘I’m sorries’, the ‘I understand’s, or .. or ..” A pause, “You haven’t told anyone else?” His voice nearly broke at the last syllable and the reality of what happened to his friend - his only, truest friend, oh what a monster he was, unable to help him - slapped him across the face. Why? Why would the Divine cats see fit to tear Mark away from Snakebite — Damien? — and to, to …? ”All I could do was watch! I was scared!” “... But I - I understand, I truly do. I would never lie to you about that.” I want to tell you that everything will be okay, but you are not a cat I ever want to have to lie to, Snakebite. Sometimes, things are never okay again. “And I can’t - say that things turned out for the best, that because of - because you lost -“ Words failed him then and perhaps his expression did too because he felt numb all over. Perhaps Snakebite’s expression was mirrored in his own, perhaps he looked so disinterested or - or angry or - his thoughts skipped and skid. He didn’t know what to think about the situation.
“I can’t even say that it turned out for the best because you’re here now,” his voice wavered, or perhaps that was his thoughts, so disorganized that they were static, a hum in his mind: distracting. “Because … I can’t say losing him was worth it. I can’t put a value on Mark for you or - put a value on the rest of us, either, can’t force you to consider that this was a good thing to happen. It wasn’t.” His eyes felt hot and he blinked, once at first then a couple times too fast but it helped, even if just the slightest. Even if it was just the illusion of aid. “I can’t even promise you that you did everything you could or that you weren’t able to do more, that you could have saved him but - but -“ His words dropped off then and the hopelessness curled deep inside of him, dark and abysmal. “But in that moment … perhaps it was .. enough. You efforts were - enough. You are enough. You tried and that’s - that’s more than some cats can say. You did what you thought you could and - you could have died.” He staggered then, a fumble to his already wavered posture and he just wanted to fold completely against him. To reassure himself that Snakebite was alive. “You could have died too,” he echoed, words shaken and vowels loose. What would he do without him? Troutspark had never been against friends, had welcomed any who wanted to try but Snakebite was actively the only one who had stayed. Some cats say they cannot imagine a life without someone else and now he figured he finally understood. Snakebite had wormed his way so effortlessly inside and latched on tight, so thickly involved in the silver tabby’s life that it would be odd to not see him in a day and worrying by the second. He actively could not imagine hanging out with him, going on patrols or snarking about the cats they disliked, couldn’t even fathom a life in which he wasn’t there.
He had always lived in the moment or caught in the past, but in that split second he had glimpsed the future, he had seen him. He never wanted to lose his dearest friend, refused to even believe in a world where they hadn’t even met. “You would have died too,” he whispered again, this time with the horrified correction, confused and broken. Perhaps he had been too cold, almost too detached to the situation but he never wanted to lie to Snakebite - never wanted to see him in such pain again, even if he had to rub salt in the wound first. His own distressed memories splintered and he buried the broken shards deep inside. He didn’t intend to lose Snakebite, not even to his own demons. Troutspark couldn’t even try for a smile, not even to lull the both of them into a false sense of security. “You tried to save him,” he added finally, voice softer and jagged from the usual rough edges. “And that is - it’s okay. You tried.” Was it self-preservation or fear that had stayed Snakebite’s paws that day? Had Snakebite done all he could, all he was able to do? The fear of the knowledge that there might have been something - anything - you could do to help but didn’t know how - it was the severest blow, especially when it ended fatally. It wasn’t something that someone could easily stop blaming themselves for and he would never ask that of his friend. Sometimes guilt felt like the only proof of their extinguished life.
He moved forward then, unsure of where to tread, only equipped with the knowledge that perhaps what he has said was the wrong thing, but it was something. It was more than acknowledgement - perhaps it was understanding. Perhaps Snakebite would not see it that way. He hesitated then and wondered perhaps if a cave really echoed a sound unless someone was inside. Were they even echoes of each other then, or one and the same? There was no reprimandation of Snakebite blaming himself - he, himself, could never get past his own errors - but he understood all the same. But what was someone supposed to say? Instead, he finally conceded and shuffled closer, a cautious openness to his expression. He would not turn away nor protest if Snakebite lunged at him now and asked for bodily comfort, to cuddle up against his side or - or - to simply feel the reassurance of being alive. It was a fragile gift that he had never been offered when he had need of it most. Perhaps Snakebite would make use of it. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally, a culmination of everything and anything. For forcing him to swim, for not confronting him about his distress before, for the misfortunate hand he was dealt in life. He understood, though, and he hoped Snakebite knew that.

:bademoticon:
Snakebite's body trembled as he awaited Troutspark's reply. He tried to stop the tears that flowed down his face, the sobs that caught his breath. Time stretched on... Troutspark said nothing. Snakebite lowered his head further. Perhaps Troutspark would hate him now? Cast him out, 'get away from me, I want nothing to do with a murderer'. Perhaps he would accuse him? 'How dare you? I trusted you to have my back when we swam together. Knowing this, you could have let me drown!' At any other given time, Snakebite might have been in the right place t shake his head. Throw those silly irrational thoughts away. He did save Troutspark. But right now..? He was vulnerable and full of self-loathing... He had let Mark die.... and he could have easily allowed the same to happen to Troutspark. Nervously, Snakebite managed a glance up towards Troutspark as he cleared his throat. The dark tom stiffened when the reply came. 'I don't know what to say.' Troutspark said, his brows furrowing into a glare. Snakebite felt his chest fill with cold hard fear, his heart sank. He was mad... Why else would he have fixed the ground with such a glare? However, Snakebite's fears were proven wrong as Troutspark continued... He spoke of 'I'm sorrys' and 'I understands', presumably the vague things cats would say when hearing about such a thing as Snakebite's story... but Snakebite had never heard these words... Only the harsh hateful words of his own head and that of the 'ghost' of Mark that haunted his nights. Snakebite heard confusion, perhaps shock in Troutspark's voice when he recalled that he had never told a soul... His best friend was the only one to know this story. He thought of affirming that no one else had heard this, but he knew his voice would fail him at this point.
Snakebite raised his head a little more, managing to look up to Troutspark, braving to make eye contact, something he never really did much to begin with. He understands... Troutspark understood him... he always did, perhaps now more than he ever did before... And even though Snakebite hurt so much right now, that thought warmed his heart. Troutspark meant the world to him. He thought of saying something... but he didn't know what to say... his friend's gentler words had soothed the rawness to his confession, he had stopped crying but his throat still threatened to abandon him should he try to speak. Snakebite hesitated when Troutspark continued, speaking of what was for the best, and what the value of his Mark was... He knew Troutspark didn't mean to put him in such a position, but those words felt like an attack. 'who means more to you?' or 'did you care more for him than you do for me?' Snakebite knew that Troutspark didn't mean for that... but it felt that way all the same. The answer to that question scared him... Snakebite knew the answer in a heartbeat and that hurt. He felt guilty over that quick, heartbeat decision. He loved Mark... He loved him so much. And every day since the day he died, he had thought of him and missed him... but now...? He would choose Troutspark. Without Hesitation.
He wished Mark had lived... He would never have been glad that he died! But.... he was glad that he had met Troutspark... And perhaps he would have still met his best friend if he and Mark had safely made their way to the clans... but he doubted they would have become as close as they were now. Despite his understanding of what, no, who he would choose, he said nothing. This was not something he would ever want to say aloud. 'Oh, Mark, please forgive me...' At this point, Snakebite was just letting Troutspark speak. He knew he should say something sometime soon, but he had no idea what he would say yet. He had so many feelings. About Mark, about what had been said, about Troutspark. How could he sum them up? How could he speak them aloud? Snakebite felt tears reemerging in the corners of his eyes as Troutspark consoled him. Affirmed that he was enough. He had tried to save Mark at the risk of his own life, and Troutspark thought that was enough. Troutspark thought that he was enough.
Snakebite felt his breath catch as Troutspark continued, mentioning how he could have died... only to echo it, voice shaking. Troutspark seemed terrified of that thought and Snakebite felt himself jerk forward slightly, wanting to comfort him. He stopped himself, however. He knew Troutspark was never very comfortable with touching and he did not want to cross a border - especially when Troutspark had listened to him. Especially after all Troutspark had said. Snakebite had never really thought about it... but when Troutspark said it - horrified and broken, it hit him. If he had done more... If he had thrown himself back into the sea? He would have died too. And as much as Snakebite sometimes thought that would be for the best... He knew it's not what Mark would have wanted. He would have died... and for the first time that scared him. He would have never met Troutspark... Snakebite felt himself start to shake, he was still raw from pouring his soul out. Telling Troutspark these things... it had been just as if he had poured out his soul in front of him, inviting him to inspect it - to crawl into the most delicate and intimate parts of himself. It was vulnerable... but Troutspark had been gentle. He listened and comforted and bared no judgement. He had shared his soul with his best friend... he hoped that perhaps in some part of that process, he would see Troutspark's.
As Troutspark gave him his final words, 'I'm sorry', he opened himself up, positioning himself in such a way as to invite... Was Troutspark giving him a chance at affection? Snakebite had barely been touched since being around Mark... He wasn't close with many cats, and the one he was close with wasn't usually fond of touch. He trembled, teetering on the edge. He wanted this... to be close to Troutspark. Uncertainty stilled his paws. But one look at his best friend's face made up his mind. He was offering this delicate and special gift to him, trusting him with something that he found to be very vulnerable. Troutspark trusted him... and he trusted him right back. Snakebite leant in to Troutspark tentatively. However, upon contact he practically melted, gently pressing his muzzle into Troutspark's chest. A darker, fluffier tail twining with one thin, grey, and white. "Thank you.... Troutspark..." he finally got some words out of his mouth, eyes welling up. "This.... You...." he stammered, not anywhere near sure how to get his feelings into words. He simply settled for this;
"This means so much to me.... You mean so much to me..."

Fish
Troutspark had his own resolve about this situation, the only knowledge that he bore was rooted completely from Snakebite’s maw himself. There was no uncertainty in his trust for him, no hesitancy or glimmer of doubt. He could only speculate things and how they had gone down - but the grief - oh, by the finest divine threads of Dawn, the grief was the realest emotion that any cat could surely feel. Guilt and grief alone could push someone under. Regret only drowned them. There was no escape from any of it. There was only the chance of fooling yourself into the belief that the other person in the waters with you could save you. Sometimes, if you believed hard enough, it became true. He did not want to think about what it meant for Snakebite to bottle this up so completely without an outlet. Did he … harm himself out of guilt? Or was that why his comments were so volatile at times? A mute cry for help. Troutspark has only ever heard it when he breathed in the water and drowned. He had long since stopped the festered hope of rescue or atonement in his heart - chaotically, he didn’t want to let go of his grief, because it was real - but he knew that surely he would do anything for his dearest friend. How could he even consider the devastation that he could leave behind if he left Snakebite as he was? How could he even comprehend it?
Troutspark had wanted for nothing, had felt and inclined and declined and it all meant nothing to him in the end. Cats left, some of the feelings faded and he endured. Snakebite was undoubtedly just as important to him as he was to Snakebite. He knew, in this moment, that while the loss of Snakebite’s companionship would be the heaviest toll since Mosspaw, it would be nothing in comparison to the stark contrast if Snakebite stayed and asked for payment in return - that he would offer it gladly. The true horror, perhaps, was not that he could disassemble someone like that so mercilessly, but rather that they would do next to anything for him if he even so much as began to ask. There was power in trust, and knowledge of that trust was a scary thing - it settled to the very creases of his soul and hummed there. Troutspark could heal or destroy him so utterly - so completely - and yet - right here, right now, he knew that the reverse was true. Troutspark could feel the echo in his bones - the resolute certainty and peaceful tranquillity that allowed him to know: if Snakebite dared offer one fate or the other, he would endure it. Rather, if he even had the barest of notions that it might alleviate his friend’s heart, would help soothe his soul, make him smile, he would gladly bleed out for him.
Perhaps he was foolish in that regard - to be so utterly devoted to someone and them in return. To let them hold such power over him - to give them the choice to flay him alive, to make him beg and thank them as they did so or to press life into his mouth and into his eyes, see the hope in everything again. He didn’t know what Snakebite would choose, if he even knew the sway he held over him - his only and truest friend, the only one who hadn’t left, for him Troutspark would see the world burn - or if he even knew that he lead him just as the other did. That their circle of trust and companionship was a circle, neverending, and he was certain that he would destroy himself completely if given the choice. And yet, he knew … that a time might come where they would have to part for some reason or other. Such sweet sorrow would that be.. He closed his eyes and tucked his chin into Snakebite’s shoulder. He didn’t know what to say to something like that, just felt in his bones that perhaps there was nothing left to say. The simple words of acknowledgement might not be enough, too simplified but … but perhaps it wasn’t. He made a soft hum of agreement, a faux ratchety purr that he thought Mosspaw made once and tucked himself a little bit closer.
While no words could suffice, he also did not settle for less than. Snakebite deserved so much more than what Troutspark could offer him and perhaps the day that Snakebite realized his mistake in becoming his friend would never come. Perhaps they could remain happy until then. But the past marks the present, justifies your actions and your words. Mayhaps he would never feel efficient at being his friend but he would try. By the tulips in Eternity’s Divine fields of Dawn, would he try. It was the least he could do for someone who had literally saved his life twice over, whether Snakebite knew it not. There should be no grief or distaste for something as simple as a name, and for a cat outside the Clans, their names rarely changed. Troutspark did not want to take that from him. Dawn knows it has taken enough of and from him. He knew that he could not erase or replace those memories with the name, not that he would want to try, but creating new ones … accepting who he is and will be and once was? That, yes, that Troutspark could do. “Thank you … Damien.” Admittedly, it still felt a little awkward, being close to someone like this, irregardless of who it was, when his mind hesitated and thrashed at the onslaught of memories that he tried to bubble back down but - but - ... His heart settled, a steady rhythm, one of comfort and trust and it was enough. For this moment and all the moments after, Snakebite was enough.

Then, perhaps, one day... By his own merit and introspection, he could be too.



Word count: 8320
Cami: 4880
Me: 3440
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