Doubts and Confusion (short story)
“I’m reading into this, aren’t I?” Myrtlewing asked, his tail sweeping across the den floor as an attempt to alleviate his thoughts, that hadn’t stopped racing since Aldereyes licked his head earlier that day. It was night now, with the only sound being the distant chirps of crickets and croaks of frogs.
Well, there was a closer sound. Hickoryskip was gasping, little more than silent wheezes. Myrtlewing lay roughly a tail-length from where he was struggling to breath. His mentor had retired long ago. It hadn’t even been Myrtlewing's doing!--though if he had been in position longer, it probably would have been. It had made Myrtlewing’s….activities help go unnoticed. Afterall, it was hard enough to believe one’s medicine cat could hurt their Clanmates, but that his mentor never noticed? Impossible!
If Myrtlewing ever ‘needed help’ healing a Clanmate, he would seek Hickoryskip’s advice, and in doing so strengthened the trust his mentor had in him. Then, if anyone would inquire into Myrtlewing’s hobbies, old Hickoryskip could vouch for him.
But again, Hickoryskip had retired long ago, meaning that Myrtlewing had been in his Clanmates’ deepest trust for just as long. He didn’t need the old tom anymore, so there was no point in saving him now as he choked on simple herbs. There was also the matter of Hickoryskip’s own mentor, Gorsedaisy, but no one really listened to her these days anyway.
“Grooming is commoner than purring! It’s a whole part of the day even. But this was different, wasn’t it? It wasn’t settling down and sharing tongues. It was a quick thing, and the way he left was so strange. Like something awkward had just happened. What do you think?”
Hickoryskip only stared at him from wide, blood-shot eyes and gasped some more.
“Hmm,” Myrtlewing responded. “It’s not like I’m afraid to ask him. But he’s the only cat in this whole Clan actually worth caring for. I don’t want to risk losing my only source of enjoyment outside of killing. There must be some other way to know for sure that he meant it in a…non-platonic way. But how?” He sighed. At the same time, Hickoryskip stilled, slumping against the floor. “I guess I’ll just have to pay attention to his next move.”
Then he stood and le let out a panicked yowl.
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Initially, Aldereyes wasn’t sure why he had licked Myrtlewing, or what his reaction meant to himself. But when it came to two things: not being with Myrtlewing romantically and the opposing choice, he relied on his body’s reaction, seeing as his thoughts could not make up their mind.
When he thought of the former, his chest felt cold, like his heart was bleeding freezing water, while his gut constricted as though it had been hit. The latter made him feel warm, buzzing energy flowing through his every muscle. It still felt like an odd choice to make, but it was a choice he was going to make: he would be with Myrtlewing.
As soon as he made that choice, doubts began to creep in. This time, it was not of his own reaction, but of Myrtlewing’s. What if he really had just meant the flower as a ‘gesture’ of some sort that wasn’t romantic? The seconds Aldereyes allowed himself to gauge Myrtlewing’s reaction after licking the fur between his ears had shown him that Myrtlewing was surprised. But that didn’t necessarily mean the approach was unwanted, only unexpected.
So he had to let Myrtlewing know that he reciprocated his feelings, but not enough so that if he was wrong he embarrassed himself and, worse, damaged the relationship they already had going on. Myrtlewing was the only one in the Clan that seemed to really see Aldereyes as who he was, and not just as another Clanmate you’re inherently supposed to bond with. The only exception might be Hootpetal, but that was way too early to say.
The obvious would be nicknames. Now that he and Myrtlewing were–possibly–courting, he couldn’t call the medicine cat an idiot anymore. Not all the time, at least. It wouldn’t be right.
He also couldn’t refer to Myrtlewing as ‘sweetheart,’ ‘darling,’ or something of the like. No, he had to find something else. Something affectionate, but also not necessarily romantic–in case Myrtlewing didn’t want to be such or to avoid some of their Clanmates from bothering them about their relationship. A second buzz of excitement whirled through Aldereyes at the idea of their bond being secret, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He assumed it was the same reason apprentices sneak out at night, the idea of doing something looked down on and not getting caught fun.
But that could wait for another time. Now he had to decide on a nickname. Myrtlewing….myrtle was a tree….Tree? Aldereyes shivered. Nope, too close to his mother’s name, too weird….Wing……..Birds have wings….Bird?
He imagined himself saying it. ‘Hey, Bird.’ ‘How’s the Bird feeling?’ and, when and if their relationship becomes surer, he could potentially add ‘my.’ ‘My bird, join me for a hunt!’
At the back of his mind, a happy swirl warmed him some more. He wasn’t very conscious of it, but the idea of calling Myrtlewing ‘my,’ of the tom belonging to him in a way that was permissive and trustful over possessive, deepened his resolve to reciprocate the feelings.
Yes! That is what he will use.
Then a panicked yowl sounded from the medicine den.
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--Reading can mean different things, so for this case let’s assume Myrtle means it as ‘watching something carefully’ and not the human action of it.
--Their Clanmates might look down on the relationship because Myrtle is a med cat, not because they’re both toms.