#leafbare

Starclan is divided by the four seasons, and how you performed in life determines which season you are assigned too. The season is determined both your own opinions of yourself and personal reasonings for why you did things, along with the actual actions.

Each area is a perfect encapsulation of the season, Newleaf is BEAUTIFUL with flowers, Leaf-Fall has so many colorful leaves, and Leafbare is picturesque with frozen lakes and glistening snowbanks.

Greenleaf is the closest to Starclan as we know it. All year long it is warm and the prey runs very well. It's also very much the default tier, you were a background cat your whole life and did nothing but be a background cat? Congrats you're getting into Greenleaf. Kits are also automatically placed into Greenleaf.

Newleaf is a lot like Greenleaf but not as perfect, you're more likely to get rain and colder days. These are the cats that tried to do what's right, but fell short in very reasonable ways. This is for cat's like Blackstar or Mudclaw who really did good things and did try very hard and genuinely believed they were doing the right thing, but still had some black stains on them they couldn't wash away. Comfortable, but not perfect.

Leaf-fall is more on the brisk side. Lots of rain, and while prey isn't the easiest to find, there is prey, a cat can be mostly comfortable here, even if it's not the nicest life. This is for the cats that had negative intentions, but didn't do enough harm to be considered irredeemable or had reasonings that are sympathetic enough. Cat's like Ashfur or Mapleshade who did a lot bad, and maybe can't be forgiven, but weren't the worst ever and honestly didn't even do more damage then an intense battle between clans could possibly have done.

Leafbare is covered in snow, it's actually quite beautiful. Prey is very scarce but not completely missing, it's hard to keep warm but cats wont suffer from things like frostbite or anything, so they're just cold. It snows often, and many Leafbare cats will stick together if they're compatible enough to keep warm. Rarely there will be a more warm day as well, it's livable. A cat won't be the most happy here, but they have enough to be content, especially once they get more used to the cold. This is cat's like Brokenstar and Tigerstar who knew full well they were doing immense amounts of war crimes and didn't even have a good reason for them.

Depending on your season will also show how easy it is to dream walk, a Greenleaf cat can do so with ease, but a Leafbare cat will have to work hard for a long time to slip into a dream even once.

Cats can cross the borders, but only going down and up to the original season. A Newleaf cat can never enter Greenleaf but both a Newleaf and Greenleaf cat can visit Leaf-fall. To prevent trouble though, kits can only cross borders going down further then Newleaf if accompanied by a Greenleaf cat. So cat's are constantly crossing the borders, perhaps a Newleaf cat misses snow and so they spend a few hours frolicking in Leafbare. Or maybe some kits want to see their morally questionable Leaf-fall parent so a Greenleaf cat supervises the meeting. This keeps cats from being permanently separated from each other, but also keeps it so cats who may be more fond of other seasons can actually still experience those seasons.

This establishes Starclan as less like heaven and more like a genuine place where dead cats can rest and explore. Sure it's not ideal to be in Leafbare, but there's still things to do and prey to hunt. Even cats in Leafbare have a say in things if all of Starclan is pulled into a meeting, after all sometimes to best understand how to tackle a threat is the observations from a previous threat.

“You’re sick,” grumbled Sagetooth. “It’s not a failing to cough when you’re ill. That’s all this is.” She snapped a root in half and began to chew it into a poultice. Aldertail recognized the smell as burdock, one of the several treatments she’d been given for her sores before. 

“I don’t feel sick,” she said dumbly. 

“Remember, sweetheart,” Oddstripe said gently and Aldertail blushed, “ it’s not a sickness you feel, it’s a sickness in your mind.” 

“Right…” she frowned. Maybe that was the reason she’d been marked as Chaff. The Folk could tell that her mind was broken. What use was a cat with a broken mind? Sagetooth spat the burdock mixture out with a grimace and pushed the leaf it was on over to Oddstripe, then fixed Aldertail with a scowl that made her want to squirm. 

“Look at me,” she said. Aldertail sat up straighter and nodded. Sagetooth continued, “I’ll have no more moping about this, you understand? It’s not your fault you’re sick. You’re not bad for being ill. In fact, if you’re sick for the rest of your life, that would be fine. Do you understand?” 

Aldertail nodded instinctively. “I-I think so?” 

Sagetooth gave a dissatisfied “Hmph!” and continued to stare her down. 

“Oh, I think your tone is maybe confusing her, Sagetooth,” Oddstripe said, taking Aldertail’s leg in one paw so he could spread poultice up her leg. Once he had his bearings, he looked up to meet her gaze with a soft smile. “You’re not in trouble. What Sagetooth is trying to say is this is normal and it’s okay if you’re sick because that doesn’t change how much we care about you.” Sagetooth grumbled but didn’t contradict him, instead wandering off into the back of the den. Aldertail glanced in her direction, then back to Oddstripe, then down at the ground. She didn’t know why such a kindly stare made her feel so miserable. 

Oddstripe sighed slightly but continued to apply the poultice. “Have you been extra worried lately?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, glancing back up. “Aren’t you?”

Oddstripe’s lips flattened into a thin line for a moment and he glanced over his shoulder in Sagetooth’s direction. “I am worried about my boys, I’ll admit. But I have a feeling that’s not why you’re worried.” 

“I just…” Aldertail shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could groom her legs. “We’re all going to die. Me especially.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Oddstripe said. 

“Your warriors killed one of the Exalted!” Aldertail hissed fearfully. “They killed my brother for doing the same thing. And his mate. And my sister. And they wanted to kill me. Razor won’t stop until all of us are punished!” Oddstripe shifted uncomfortably, looking solemn. 

He sighed, switched to her other leg, and said, “That is a frightening thought, but I have faith in Goldenstar to keep us safe. StarClan will look out for us.” 

“StarClan…” Aldertail repeated. “Remind me which one that is?” She tried to picture the cats who had rallied in their camp the week before.

“StarClan are the spirits of the dead,” Oddstripe smiled down at his work. “They know things we can’t and they guide us from the stars.”

“So, magic?” asked Aldertail. 

“Yes,” Oddstripe nodded with a little laugh. “This time it really is magic.” 

Aldertail considered that. As powerful as the Folk were, they didn’t share their power with cats, at least not outside of social power. If the Clans had magic on their side, maybe there was a chance they could defeat Razor.

“Can they help us fight?” she asked.

“They rarely help in such a physical way,” Sagetooth said, stomping back over to them with a bundle of thyme leaves in her jaws. “Instead, they give us guidance and help us make the choices that lead to victory. For instance, they told us to attack on the night of the snow storm and in doing so we drove the rogues out and they haven’t returned since.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not coming back,” Aldertail whined. “Has StarClan said anything else? Have they told you what to do?” The idea felt like something sturdy to hold onto, the idea that magic ghosts could give them all of the answers. If they just did what StarClan said, maybe everything would be alright.

“Not yet,” Sagetooth said. “But they will, in time.” She started separating the bundle of thyme into two piles. 

“Can we ask them?” Aldertail said as Oddstripe moved on to her back. “There’s a way to talk to them, isn’t there?”

“There is,” Sagetooth said, “but we can’t just demand they give us all the answers. Part of the test is making choices for ourselves.” 

“The test?” Aldertail squeaked. She hadn’t known she was being tested!

“The test of life,” Sagetooth clarified. “What would be the point of living if someone just gave us all the answers?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Aldertail shrugged. “Finding peace?” 

“Finding peace wouldn’t be meaningful without chaos,” Sagetooth shook her head. “Joy wouldn’t exist without pain. StarClan gives us trials and misfortunes so we can learn from them and fully appreciate the blessings in our lives.” 

“Okay, sorry,” Aldertail mumbled, realizing she had been speaking out of turn. 

“It’s fine,” Sagetooth sighed. “You’re learning. Now here, chew these for as long as you can before swallowing.” She pushed a bundle of thyme towards Aldertail who took a deep breath of the aromatic scent. It seemed to grab her and pull her thoughts into focus for a moment. Obediently, she leaned down, took the leaves into her mouth, and focused on chewing them as finely as she could. As she did, she started to feel her breath coming easier and her mind clearing. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled around her mouthful.

“Happy to help, dear,” Sagetooth said, offering a rare smile. Aldertail closed her eyes and focused on the herbs, on their smell and the texture of the leaves as it changed between her teeth. By the time Oddstripe was nearly finished with her hind legs, she swallowed and took a deep breath, the smell of thyme still thick on her tongue. 

“Good girl,” Sagetooth nodded. “Now, the burdock root should start numbing your sores soon enough. Be careful not to lick it off or your tongue might go numb too. Besides, you’ll get a stomach ache if you ingest too much of it.” 

Aldertail paled a little. “I’ll try,” she said weakly. That was going to be tricky.

“Oh,” Oddstripe frowned. “We can put cobwebs over them if necessary.” 

“No,” Sagetooth said firmly. “That’s a waste of supplies and who knows, a numb tongue might get her to finally kick the habit.” Oddstripe met Aldertail’s eyes sympathetically. Aldertail nodded, offering a smile as best she could. It was like a punishment. If she messed up and licked her legs, she’d get a nasty surprise and, hopefully, that would teach her a lesson. That felt right. 

“You’re good to go,” Sagetooth said, bundling up the rest of the thyme. “Keep your tongue away from your legs, you hear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Aldertail nodded. 

“You can get someone to help you groom your pelt if that helps,” continued Sagetooth.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Oddstripe said. “Let me know if you ever need help with that, okay?” 

“Alright,” Aldertail nodded again and stood to leave. As she did, her tail brushed up against something feather light and startled her. She turned around, fur bristling, to find a dead moth. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” Oddstripe said, “Barleypaw brought me that this morning. I’m not sure what to do with it, to be honest.” 

“You can’t just leave it around,” Sagetooth huffed. “Just get rid of it. She’ll never know.” 

“It’s so pretty though,” Aldertail said, tilting her head to admire the little trinket. 

“Here!” Oddstripe said, reaching towards the moth. Very carefully, he pulled the wings from the moth and then reached up to tuck them behind one of Aldertail’s ears. She blushed again, holding very still as he did, then tried to look at them without turning her head which proved impossible. 

“I saw Blazingbrush wearing cicada wings like that,” he said. “She’s one of the other healers.” Sagetooth huffed under her breath as she headed back to return the thyme to the stores. 

“Do they look alright?” Aldertail asked, still unable to look at them. 

“Oh, they look beautiful on you,” he said. Aldertail bit her lip and swallowed.

“Um, thank you,” she whispered shyly. 

“Don’t mention it,” purred Oddstripe, seemingly unaware of how he was affecting her. “Let me know if you need me to help you groom your pelt okay?” She nodded mutely and he turned and went back into the den with a little smile. 

Aldertail headed out into the snow. He had called her beautiful. No one had ever called her beautiful before, at least not genuinely like that. She decided she needed to find a reflection and see for herself. As she headed out of camp, Branchbark and Ospreymask passed with mouths full of fish and smiled in her direction.

“Aldertail!” Ospreymask squealed, dropping her catch. “I love the moth wings!” 

“Really?” she asked, blushing again. 

“Yes! Oh my stars, you look amazing sweetie!” 

Branchbark chuckled and gave a nod of agreement, then pushed the fish Ospreymask had dropped in her direction. She rolled her eyes and picked them up again, the two passing to head towards the fresh-kill pile. 

Aldertail bounded out of camp, feeling all bubbly inside. Was she pretty? She had always assumed that people were lying when they’d complimented her. She knew how she looked, she knew she was ugly and broken and stupid. Or… she had known. Now she wasn’t sure. She quickly made her way over to the closest stream to investigate. As she approached, she held her breath, wanting to believe what they had said was true. 

Her face swam into view in the chilly stream. She let out her breath, disappointed. She was still herself. She still had the same dull brown fur and ugly, scabby legs, the same unflattering wrinkle permanently affixed between her eyebrows. 

The moth wings looked nice though… She tilted her head back and forth, admiring them from different angles. She wasn’t as thin, she realized. Her cheeks had filled out, her pelt hung more neatly on her bones. She was sleeker, even, with a shine to her fur that only Exalted cats seemed to maintain in the city. Maybe, she reasoned, she wasn’t pretty yet, but she wasn’t ugly anymore. 

She smiled, touched by the thought, and decided to go looking for herbs like Oddstripe had taught her. She needed to thank him for his lovely gift.

UPDATES:

- Aldertail starts wearing moth wings behind her ear.

The act fascinated her. Each Name Charm was marked with symbols that the Folk used to convey meaning and slowly, she was learning to interpret it. Confined in her house as she was, Portia wasn’t able to do much teaching so she had put a young molly named Marmalade in charge of teaching Scorch how to understand the symbols. 

Marmalade took Scorch through the neighborhood, usually with another cat along to ‘escort’, and showed her the symbols in different places. Now that they were pointed out to her, Scorch couldn’t stop seeing them. They were on the corner poles and the fronts of houses and the sides of cars and nearly every wall in the downtown area had some cluster of them somewhere. Marmalade would teach her what they said and then teach her how each symbol made up a piece of the meaning. She learned how to recognize the individual symbols wherever they appeared in the clusters and how there were two versions of each symbol for some reason. 

It was honestly exciting. She couldn’t believe that all her life there had been meaning spread across the surface of the world and she hadn’t even known. When she was at home, when time was the most solid, she would wander around, discovering all of the different symbols in her home and trying to interpret them. They were everywhere, on the food boxes and her dish and flashing across the magic window that her Folk would watch and the pages in the kits’ rooms and the warm thing the adult human pawed at on her lap and even though Scorch didn’t know what some of the words meant, she knew their pieces and that felt like power. 

It wasn’t power that helped her much, though. Being an Interpreter did come with a certain amount of prestige. She and Marmalade were sometimes sent to deliver blessings from the Folk. They would go to cats who were ill in their homes or to new mothers and their kittens and bestow gifts upon them. Cats always thanked them and looked up at them with worshipful gazes. They parted to allow them through. Chaff asked them for blessings as they passed and thanked them profusely when Marmalade bid them “be well.” Yes, there was definitely power there, but it never did anything to get rid of the babysitters that followed her everywhere she went.

And it never stopped Razor from calling on her. 

Today, after an Interpreters’ meeting in Portia’s garden, he had arrived to collect her, all toothy smiles and pet names and suffocating touches. She purred and fell in beside him and let go of her grasp on time. He’d invited her to accompany him to another meeting, this one about the warfront, and she had agreed. 

Now she found herself draped against his side as he lounged in the grass of his own backyard. Several toms sat around in a circle, discussing strategy. All of them, except for Ghost, were Exalted. 

“Hunting operations are continuing as planned,” Oreo was saying. “We’ll have to increase our presence, though, if we want to account for spring prey numbers.” 

“Do you think we’ll still be able to starve them out?” Razor asked thoughtfully. 

“I do,” Oreo nodded. “The Chaff are hungry enough, the only problem is the risk of getting attacked by wild cats. We need to find a way to make it seem like the threat is minimal if we want them hunting in droves.” 

Ghost cleared his throat and said, “From what my cats have been saying, most encounters can end without bloodshed as long as we don’t antagonize the Clans. If a cat apologizes and leaves they’ll get a torn ear at most. If you’d like, I can spread the word about-”

“No,” Razor rumbled darkly and Scorch felt her throat tighten. “No, we’re not going to teach the Chaff that they should run from these savages. We won’t show weakness like that when that territory is our right.” 

“But, sir,” Ghost shifted uncomfortably, “most of my cats aren’t fighters.”

“Then pair them with fighters,” Razor said as if it were obvious. “If they need protection, give it to them.” 

Ghost’s throat labored for a moment before he said, “Yes, sir.” 

“I think it might also be a good idea to take a more proactive approach,” said Sardine, a younger tom who had only recently been allowed into these kinds of meetings. “You know what they say: the best defense is a good offense.” 

Razor smiled and nodded in his direction. “I’m listening.” Scorch listened too, with bated breath.

Sardine continued. “Part of the reason the Slaughter of Sycamore was such a decisive loss was because our position wasn’t easily defensible. The wild cats had the home turf advantage and, given their surprisingly large numbers, I reason they must have had somewhere to organize themselves before the attack. If we could take that location for ourselves, we would have a much stronger foothold from which to orchestrate our campaign. We could even move a number of chaff to the front full time.”

Scorch repressed a shiver as the image of Razor and his followers carving their way through RisingClan’s camp flashed through her mind. The calm, detached manner in which Sardine said it rubbed her fur the wrong way. It was almost like he didn’t care that he was toying with the lives of cats on both sides.

“And how would you propose we do that?” frowned Tiger, his muscles rippling under his pelt as he shifted forward. “We have no idea how far that location might be and clearly inching our way bit by bit doesn’t work.”

“It could,” Oreo countered. “Another big reason we lost that battle was because of the snow storm and we’ll have all summer to retake that ground.” 

“We’ll still be out in the open,” Tiger growled. “I don’t like it.” 

“Please,” Razor said, his chest rumbling smoothly against Scorch’s side, “I’m sure Sardine has a plan. Don’t you?” He tilted his head to regard the young cat and Scorch heard the familiar undertone in his voice that said ‘this is a test.’ 

Sardine smiled and said, “I do. I propose we form strike teams of three to six cats and wait for the ‘border patrols’ to come by then kill as many cats as we can.” Scorch swallowed. “Soon enough, their numbers will weaken and falter and we will be able to find and clear out one of their bases and take it for our own, thus acquiring a proper encampment from which to stage our own assault.” 

“Not a bad strategy,” Razor complimented and one of Sardine’s ears twitched in satisfaction. “What do we think, boys?” He looked around the circle, one brow raised. Scorch did likewise, trying to keep her expression passive as she judged their reactions. 

“It could work…” Oreo hummed skeptically. 

Ghost shifted, a grimace on his face, and said, “This all assumes that they have a fortified location we could use. There’s no way to know if that's the case. They could live in scattered nests or isolated burrows.”

“Who cares,” Tiger brushed him off. “Even if there isn’t some central location we can take over, I think the effort put into the strike teams would be worth it.” He smirked and looked at Razor. “I wouldn’t mind the opportunity for a bit of extermination.” Scorch’s blood ran cold. Tiger seemed to notice and his eyes twitched over to meet hers. She quickly ducked her gaze and leaned away to nestle her cheek into Razor’s fur demurely. 

“We would need to be careful,” Ghost said. “The wild cats are a lot stronger than we first thought. I’m not sure many of my cats could go blow for blow with them for long.” 

“They don’t need to,” Oreo said simply. “If we get enough of them in a group they’ll be able to wear the wild cats down even if they take losses.” Scorch spared a glance at Ghost to see his jaw working. He was furious. Still, he was hiding it well, she thought. It was only her experience with him that let her recognize the subtle tensing of the muscles in his neck and the way his tail tip was poised to start twitching if he let it. 

Razor seemed to notice too and said, “True, but there’s no need to be so wasteful if we can afford not to be. It’s our job to look out for the Chaff, is it not?” 

Oreo’s whiskers twitched and he looked down. Tiger huffed softly through his nose. 

Sardine nodded and said, “Indeed. Perhaps combat training could be provided?” 

Razor smiled. “Good idea,” he said. “Why don’t you and Ghost organize training for the most promising candidates. Once you both feel satisfied with their progress, we can start implementing these strike teams, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Sardine said, glancing at Ghost. Ghost grunted affirmatively, his jaw still clenched. 

“Good,” Razor said, moving to stand. Scorch stood as well, pressing close to him and keeping her head low to avoid too much attention. “Is there anything else we needed to discuss?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Oreo said, standing as well. Tiger and Ghost both shook their heads. 

Sardine took a step forward. “Actually, Razor, I was wondering if I could have a private word?” 

“Of course,” Razor said, jerking his head towards the rose bush in the corner of the yard. Tail brushing across Scorch’s belly, he leaned into her ear and said, “Wait here for me, would you, dear?” 

Scorch chuckled to hide the shudder of disgust that went through her. “Always.” His smile widened and he ran his tongue over her cheek and up her brow before gesturing to Sardine and padding off to the rose bush. She was tempted to try and eavesdrop but knew that she wouldn’t be able to get close enough without being seen. 

In addition, she had a more important task to see to. She looked over at the others. Oreo and Tiger had started off across the lawn together, talking amongst themselves. Ghost sat still, his eyes closed as he breathed slowly in and out. Scorch cast one glance over her shoulder to make sure Razor was occupied then slipped over to stand next to Ghost. His whiskers twitched as she drew near and he opened his newly scarred eye to look at her.

“What do you want?” he grumbled. His eyes also darted over her shoulder to where Razor and Sardine were talking. 

“I wanted to apologize,” she said softly, offering a smile. “I was under quite a lot of stress last time we talked and I did a lot of things that I am not proud of.” She held her breath, hoping he bought it. This part was integral if she was going to accomplish what she needed to.

He scowled at her. “You nearly got me in serious trouble, you know that?” 

“I do,” she winced, hoping she looked sufficiently remorseful. “I’m sorry, Ghost. Really.” He stared at her for another long moment before sighing, his gaze softening a touch. 

“I appreciate it,” he said, looking her over. She smiled and sat down. Good. He had never been able to stay mad at her for long.

“I did mean what I said about looking out for Smokyrose,” she whispered. “If you helped me escape, I could bring them a warning.”

Ghost shook his head. “And then what? My cats get killed instead? No, I can’t do that.” Scorch felt anger rising in her again. There was always an excuse with him, wasn’t there, some reason why he couldn’t do what she needed him to. She focused on keeping calm, though. Trying to threaten him hadn’t worked at all. She needed to use a softer touch. 

She shifted closer, her eyes big and sincere, and said, “Then I’ll tell the Clans not to kill the Chaff. Goldenstar would listen. She took in Scrap despite my warnings. If she can spare a life, she will, I promise.” 

“So Scrap is safe then,” he said as if he’d caught her in a lie. Scorch tried not to let her irritation get the better of her. Like he cared about Scrap at all. 

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “And I can make sure that she stays that way. Both her and Smokyrose.” Instinctively, she brushed her tail tenderly over his, satisfied by the way he tensed and then relaxed under her touch. “Please, Ghost. Won’t you help me?” She tried to make her eyes water as she held his gaze. Hopefully he would prove as predictable as always and be unable to resist the pleadings of a woman who needed him. 

She watched him thinking. His eyes darted down to her paws like he wanted to place one of his own on top of them. He leaned forward almost imperceptibly, their whiskers almost close enough to touch. His mouth opened, a hesitant word on his tongue, and she felt her spirits soar. Yes! She had won! She had-

His eyes flickered over her shoulder and a scowl returned. “Razor is watching,” he said. Bile swelled to overtake her lifted spirits and drag them back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew better than to look over her shoulder or quickly fix her posture. She licked her lips and very carefully sat back. 

“Think about it,” she said. “You know where to find me.” At this point, she could hear Razor coming her way. She let one ear twitch back, then stood and turned to face him, hiding all evidence that she had been touching Ghost. She smiled fondly at Razor and moved to meet him, butting her head against his chest. 

“Ghost,” Sardine said, a dubious tilt to his voice, “Shall we talk logistics?” 

Ghost cleared his throat and nodded, standing. “Yes. Let’s.” Stiffly, he turned and followed the younger tom and Scorch cursed him in her head. He was being too obvious! 

Razor curled around her, his brows furrowed, and asked, “What was that all about?” As he did, he nosed the fur on the back of her neck and she went rigid at the touch, heart suddenly hammering. 

“I was urging Ghost to have faith in your leadership,” she lied, trying to turn her head to look at him, but he opened his mouth and gently placed his teeth against her scruff and she immediately froze again. A purr rumbled through him and he removed his teeth. This time, she stayed exactly where she was.

“Is that all?” he murmured warmly against her skin. “It seemed like there was more to it than that.” He padded slowly around her, always keeping some part of him in contact with her. 

Scorch fixed her eyes on the rose bush as she spoke. “Maybe for him,” she said. “You know he never really got over me.” 

“Mm,” Razor hummed, unsatisfied. 

Scorch swallowed. “But I promise, things were strictly professional. I have no interest in any other kind of relationship with someone like him.”  

Razor came back around to look at her face again and she dared to turn her head to meet his gaze. “Not even a little?” he asked, “for old times’ sake?” 

“No, of course not!” She promised with a worried expression. “Razor, I’m yours now. That’s all I could ever want.” 

Razor looked her over and then sighed with a dejected glance downward. “I know. I just… after you went missing and everything…” He shifted his weight and sat down. “It feels like you sometimes don’t think about how your actions affect me. I do so much to make sure you’re taken care of and it’s like you don’t even care.” 

“No, Razor,” she swallowed and stepped in to wrap herself around him instead, “of course I care! I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel that way.” She knew his game. This trick was the oldest in the book. But she had no choice but to play along. “How can I prove how much I love you, honey?” 

Razor leaned into her touch with another sigh. “Just… promise you won’t talk to Ghost anymore?” he asked tiredly. “It would make me feel so much better if I didn’t have to worry about him and you.” 

“Of course,” Scorch promised, pressing her forehead against his. “If that’s what you want, I’ll try and avoid him.” 

“It is,” he purred. “Thank you, Gingersnap.” 

“Anything for you,” she swallowed. 

“Why don’t I walk you home,” he offered, pulling back to meet her gaze again. 

“Oh, that’s alright,” she shook her head. “I can get back just fine on my own.” 

“No, no, I insist,” he said, standing up. “I’ll feel a lot better if I know you got home safe.”