it starts as a terrible ache, one burro tries his best to swallow. forcing it down, only to let it simmer as an attentive gaze sweeps the area. this isn't right. a holy voice reminds him, trying to lead him to a better light. he wants to follow, his paws twitch and yearn. you haven't the right to feel like this, burro. it speaks the truth, but he turns a deaf ear to it.
jealously is an ugly, rotten, sickening emotion that burro does not allow himself to feel. in these moments, he is nothing but a hypocrite biting down words. burro had always preached the importance of emotions. recognizing them, allowing them. feelings themselves were not bad, they never could be. there was no morality to it, just how one feels. there is no right, no wrong. and yet, he can't help the ache in his heart. biting gingerly at whatever it can, infecting him as he continues to let the situation happen. because, truly, does he really have the right to meddle?
there was a power imbalance, warrior to leader, he shouldn't feel this way. but those damn eyes are starting to drive him insane. roving, searching, lovesick and hungry for her attention. burro was nothing but a simple man, one too stubborn to recognize the truth of the situation and instead find comfort in white lies. it is simply because darkstar is burro's closest friend here. he obviously wants her attention, but that's because burro thrives in the eyes of others.
the mouse in his jaw feels more and more like a rat as he stares down the comptetito-no. no burro. that's your clan mate. competition? she is not a prize to be won. but he wants to win, in some metaphorical sense, he assumes.
he can't take it anymore, the attempted flirting and gentle laughter, or the way he's looking at her, and definitely not the way she looks at him. a brilliant grin, though he can already feel the sting of such forced joviality setting in, is plastered upon his features. to anyone else, burro was the same. the tensing in his back isn't visible unless to the trained eye. "g'day, i-uh, ha-" a sense of dread forms at the pit of his stomach.
what is burro even doing? "hate t' cut the conversation! look'd like a' good one too!" he didn't hate to cut it at all, he wanted to tear it apart. "but-" he turns his attention to his clan-mate, still resembling the loving burro the clan had come to know. "askin' for ya', small group o' cats want some help with den-repairs." there was a small group doing den repairs, so he didn't lie on that part. he was just...helping them out. weren't they complaining about a lack of paws to help?
@DARKSTAR
jealously is an ugly, rotten, sickening emotion that burro does not allow himself to feel. in these moments, he is nothing but a hypocrite biting down words. burro had always preached the importance of emotions. recognizing them, allowing them. feelings themselves were not bad, they never could be. there was no morality to it, just how one feels. there is no right, no wrong. and yet, he can't help the ache in his heart. biting gingerly at whatever it can, infecting him as he continues to let the situation happen. because, truly, does he really have the right to meddle?
there was a power imbalance, warrior to leader, he shouldn't feel this way. but those damn eyes are starting to drive him insane. roving, searching, lovesick and hungry for her attention. burro was nothing but a simple man, one too stubborn to recognize the truth of the situation and instead find comfort in white lies. it is simply because darkstar is burro's closest friend here. he obviously wants her attention, but that's because burro thrives in the eyes of others.
the mouse in his jaw feels more and more like a rat as he stares down the comptetito-no. no burro. that's your clan mate. competition? she is not a prize to be won. but he wants to win, in some metaphorical sense, he assumes.
he can't take it anymore, the attempted flirting and gentle laughter, or the way he's looking at her, and definitely not the way she looks at him. a brilliant grin, though he can already feel the sting of such forced joviality setting in, is plastered upon his features. to anyone else, burro was the same. the tensing in his back isn't visible unless to the trained eye. "g'day, i-uh, ha-" a sense of dread forms at the pit of his stomach.
what is burro even doing? "hate t' cut the conversation! look'd like a' good one too!" he didn't hate to cut it at all, he wanted to tear it apart. "but-" he turns his attention to his clan-mate, still resembling the loving burro the clan had come to know. "askin' for ya', small group o' cats want some help with den-repairs." there was a small group doing den repairs, so he didn't lie on that part. he was just...helping them out. weren't they complaining about a lack of paws to help?
@DARKSTAR