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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 9, 2024 20:49:08 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X]--------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak couldn't hold back the wince of pain at the reminder of his rejection all those moons ago. Many times over he had wondered just how in thedark he had kept his father over the years, and now he realized how truly emotionless he must have been. He was almost offended, having been obviously obsessed with the she-cat they spoke of for all of his life. He figured now though, wasn't the time for feeling sorry for himself. He lowered his voice, to a croaky whisper,"Briarstar is in danger...we have a traitor in our midst."
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jul 9, 2024 21:38:55 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt pinned his ears against his head. Oh StarClan, he thought. Not now. She just lost a life.
โA traitor?!โ Beaverpelt hissed out. He began anxiously kneading his front paws into the ground and stared down at the dirt he was churning up. โHow dare someone betray ConiferClanโฆthis clan does so much for its warriors.โ He looked back at Oakstreak. โWhat else did Nightmask say? Did she reveal who it was?โ |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 9, 2024 21:47:20 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Sometimes it was hard pinpointing what exactly had stirred up her sadness. Had it been her father's ambition and yearn for his children to follow in his pawsteps, or had it been Wisteriasnow's harsh words and steely claws that had caused the sorrow to sprout within her heart? Life had never been easy for Rattlepaw and her two siblings. Pushed to be the best, yet cursed to never meet the standards their mother had forced upon them. At least Flinthawk had been caring, at least he had loved them, even if his love showed in some odd, twisted ways at times.
Gray fur matted with blood, lips pulled back into a frozen snarl, eyes blank and unseeing. Rattlepaw would never forget the sight of Flinthawk as he was laid down on the camp ground, his corpse on display for all of ConiferClan to see.
A part of Rattlepaw had died that day.
Her ears flicked when Snowtalon mentioned that his mother had spoken about Rattlepaw, about how Flinthawk's death had been the root cause of her sadness, how her father leaving this world had caused her to shut down. That was very much the truth, but there was more to the truth than any other cat knew. She was afraid of becoming so much like her father that the same monster who hunted him down would emerge from wherever it was hiding and hunt her down as well. Her father had always praised her during her training that she was becoming a formidable warrior, but what if she became too formidable?
Rattlepaw's spine ruffled with an ice cold chill. If she continued on the path she had been before her father had died, would she end up dead? Would Snowtalon end up dead as well? Wisteriasnow was alive and well despite her mate having perished moons ago, but only bad things had happened to Rattlepaw and those she cared about, and she cared about Snowtalon so fiercely. She didn't quite show her affections, didn't know how to all that much, but she so deeply cared for the tom that even the thought of something happening to him because of her made her want to hack up the two measly bites of finch she had just had.
... And he cared about her, too.
Snowtalon cared about her.
So sure she had heard him wrong, her ears strained atop her head, desperately searching for something that would suggest all of this was just some cruel joke. That what Snowtalon was saying wasn't him spilling his feelings about her to her.
There was no sign of him lying, no sign of him faking her out. The mostly white tom was shivering underneath his pelt, Rattlepaw could tell that much, but he still held himself tall and steadfast.
But why, she wondered. Why of all cats did Snowtalon care about her? Of all the cats in the Clan he could have picked from, why had he chosen Rattlepaw? Pathetic, useless Rattlepaw. There were so many other cats out there, so many that were better than her. What had drawn him to her? What was it about her that had caught Snowtalon's eye?
That thought returned, a dark shadow that lurked in her mind. What if this was all some cruel joke, some sick way of him playing with her heart just to crush it? What if this was some sort of test planned by her own mother? Had Wisteriasnow forced Snowtalon to pretend he was in love with her just to hurt her? Wisteriasnow was cruel, but was she this cruel? Could her own mother go this far to hurt her very own daughter?
Rattlepaw didn't have to think twice about the answer - of course her mother would pull something like this to crush Rattlepaw down even further.
But for as weary as she was, for as afraid as she was, something about Snowtalon standing before her, how nervous but determined he appeared... Something about this all seemed so genuine, felt so real. Either Snowtalon was an incredible actor, or he truly meant every single word that flowed from his mouth, and Rattlepaw wanted to believe the tom was honest about this.
Heart fluttering and the skin underneath her pelt warming, Rattlepaw nervously stepped closer, leaning into the white furred tom's pelt. "I like you a lot, too, Snowtalon," she confessed, wishing and hoping that this honesty wouldn't come back to bite her. Wouldn't come back to hurt her later. "But I...I..." What should she say? Being Snowtalon's mate felt like a dream come true, but what would happen if she never became a warrior? What would happen if Snowtalon realized he was better off with another warrior? What if Wisteriasnow found out about this? Snowtalon would never be safe with her around; he'd be another target her mother could use to hurt her.
The molly swallowed, words wanting to emerge. She wanted to accept his proposal, wanted to brush alongside him as they snuck their way back to camp, wanted to think of him as her mate rather than just a friend. But what would happen if something went wrong? What would the Clan think if they found out about their relationship? Rattlepaw was older than Snowtalon, but she was still an apprentice - what would their Clanmates say about a warrior and apprentice announcing their relationship? Rattlepaw drew in a deep breath, Snowtalon's scent enveloping her like a sweet embrace.
Oh, to be able to call him her very own.
Accepting his offer felt like bliss, but at the same time, Rattlepaw didn't think she was ready for this big of a step just yet. She cared for Snowtalon like she cared for no other cat, but it would be selfish of her to take him on as a mate when she had no idea what her place in the Clan was, or if she would even stay with the Clan. Thoughts of running away consumed her. more often than not, and if she were to leave, would Snowtalon be willing to join her? He had a brother, his parents, an aunt, an uncle... He had it all. He was a warrior of ConiferClan with a lot of life to give, and what did Rattlepaw have to offer? What did she have to offer to Snowtalon himself?
Watery eyes full of soulful blue gazed deeply into soft eyes painted in gray. Before becoming his mate she had to make some tough decisions, decisions she had been pushing off, but now she had a reason to address them. Now she had no reason to hesitate any longer. "Can you give me a moon? I want to be with you, I do, but..." Rattlepaw stepped back, eyes flickering away from Snowtalon. "I just...I just need to figure some things out."
And maybe you can help me, she wanted to add, but she dared not speak those thoughts aloud. She felt as if she were pushing her luck with the tom already, and she didn't want him to feel as if he had to help her get through her own problems.
"I do care about you," she murmured again, emphasizing her feelings, resolving within herself how she felt about the tomcat. "But don't feel like you have to put your life on hold for me. Don't feel obligated to me just because I lo-"
The last word never finished once it dawned on her what she was about to say.
Love.
A strong word. An unusual word for Rattlepaw.
She had never experienced true love before, but maybe, just maybe, within a moon, she'd be secure enough in herself to finally know what that felt like.
Grizzlythroat ยป
Sleeping had never been a problem for Grizzlythroat, but last night she had been unable to drift off into slumber. Excitement ate at her bones and tore at her soul. Anxiety crawled through her pelt like ants, tiny legs rubbing uncomfortably against the threads of each thick fur that coated her skin. The large warrior had been on many a dawn patrol, her first being only the day after her apprenticeship. She still recalled that day so vividly; the young molly had been beaming with excitement, tripping over her own paws more than once. Flinthawk had scolded her for acting so rash, for letting her emotions win over. Emotions were not an enemy, but allowing them to take control rather than leading with your mind was dangerous. Grizzlythroat had taken that advice from her former mentor and stuck by it. Emotions weren't dangerous until you lived your life only through them.
But for as hard as she tried to live by that, Grizzlythroat was not infallible. She was not immune to the surge of emotions that every cat experienced throughout her life, and last night had been one of those moments.
As dusk had settled upon the Clan and cats had started to take their leave to their individual dens, Gingerflame had announced the morning's patrols. It had been no surprise to the brown tabby when she had heard her name called for the dawn patrol; it was a task she had been trusted with for some moons now, whether that be due to her own standing within the Clan or some lingering residue of Flinthawk's influence, she had no idea, but she enjoyed her dawn patrols nonetheless. She had expected this one to be of the usual sort up until Gingerflame had announced who would be leading the patrol.
Silentshadow.
Had Gingerflame put the two on a patrol together just for Grizzlythroat to trip over herself and be known as the fool she was? She tried so hard to hide the lingering gazes she cast toward Silentshadow. She tried so hard to hide the way her heart fluttered when she was near the raven-black molly. Grizzlythroat had thought she hid her emotions well among the eyes of her Clanmates, but perhaps Gingerflame had seen past her stoic shield.
While she had always been an early riser, Grizzlythroat had taken advantage of her sleepless night to leave the sanctuary of camp even earlier than usual. The forest had been silent as the large warrior prowled through the snowy undergrowth, a sliver of moonlight illuminating the world around her just enough for Grizzlythroat to see beyond her own paws. A mouse had entered her line of sight, and with sharp skills and quick movements, the mouse had soon fallen limp, dangling from the massive warrior's jaws.
As sure as the night would turn to day, birdsong had drifted into the air, soft and mesmerizing. Grizzlythroat could have stood there for hours on end listening to the forest wake up as the sun began its steady rise into the sky, but the tabby knew that with the melody of birdsong came the first light of the sun. The dawn patrol would be headed out soon, and Grizzlythroat had never been the tardy type.
Flinthawk would surely have skinned her if she had ever been even a minute late. Even in death Grizzlythroat was sure her former mentor would have her reprimanded for such lazy behavior.
Plus, she didn't want to miss the chance to impress Silentshadow. She didn't think the black warrior cared for her that much, but a molly could dream of the day she was noticed by the pretty molly, right?
Paws carrying back to camp, Grizzlythroat emerged through the entrance right as the first ray of sunlight lit up the world around her. Pale green eyes lit up when she spotted Silentshadow making her way over. For as much as she longed to greet her fellow denmate with a nuzzle or even brushing her tail against Silentshadow's flank, Grizzlythroat held back. Not here. Not now. Rather she dipped her head in greeting, gently placing the mouse at her paws. "Reporting for duty," she mewed coolly.
The perfect warrior. Logic above emotion. Provide for the Clan. Give her life for the Clan.
That was the cat Grizzlythroat was among her Clanmates. That's who she was to most of the cats she served alongside.
Green eyes trailed away from the mouse and back to Silentshadow. Her heart fluttered. The tabby swallowed, throat full of thistle.
Not right now. Not in camp. Once outside she could let herself go, allow herself to be free. All Silentshadow had to do was give the word and then they could leave. Then Grizzlythroat could allow herself to be who she truly was underneath a stoic mask.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 9, 2024 21:51:28 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap ยป
"You let me know when to visit. I don't want to share my grandkits with other warriors around," he told his son gently, affectionately, a tone of voice Sorrelsnap only used for a very few select cats. With cats who had gone to join the stars, only one remaining here among the living with him.
A rusty purr rumbled in the old tom's throat the moment Eagleswoop plopped his large frame against Sorrelsnap's thin physique. Slow and steady he began running his tongue along his son's pelt, basking in this rare moment. It wasn't often that he got to share such an intimate moment with his one remaining kit. The life of a warrior took a lot of time. The life of a father took every second a cat had to spare.
For all the contentment that ran through Sorrelsnap in this moment, he couldn't shake the bittersweetness that rummaged in the back of his mind. This very well could be the last time he would ever get to share tongues with Eagleswoop. Sorrelsnap was getting older by the day and Eagleswoop busier by the minute. This very well could be their last moments together without the interruption of a Clanmate at their heels.
It didn't seem right that Eagleswoop was a full grown warrior. It didn't feel right that the brown tabby pressed against him was a father now. It felt like only a moon ago Eagleswoop had been Eaglekit, a tiny bundle of brown tabby fur throwing himself around the paws of Goldtalon, Jumpingjay, and Sorrelsnap. Only a moon ago Eagleswoop had been a newborn kit, so tiny and fragile kneading against the stomach of Goldtalon. The day Eagleswoop had been born had been such an emotionally charged day; Sorrelsnap remembered how his heart had swelled with immediate love for the brown tabby that Goldtalon had brought into the world, and he remembered how his heart had shattered into a million pieces when he had helped lay Eaglekit's littermates to rest. They had gone too soon. Had been taken from him far too soon.
Yet that was the price to pay for having kits in ConiferClan.
Didn't make the grief any easier to carry.
Sudden panic from Eagleswoop snapped the elder out of his reverie. He looked around, fur bristling, the tips of his claws protruding from their sheathes. What had Eagleswoop noticed? What was going on?
"It sounds as if Silverfern is kitting."
Sorrelsnap slowly eased, muscles gently relaxing. "I didn't hear a thing," the elder confessed, sniffing indignantly. It had been his loss of hearing that had pushed him into the elders' den. That and his eyesight leaving him as well. They were known ailments the ginger tom was dealing with, but he still didn't care for acknowledging that he wasn't as sharp as he once had been. "Well," he breathed, slowly lowering his head back down, "if she is, may StarClan keep her and her kits with us." A somber prayer, but one not uncommon among the cats of ConiferClan. Too many queens had lost their lives during their kitting. Too many kits had left for StarClan sooner than could have ever been imagined. It was never a good thing when the excitement of welcoming new Clanmates turned into the sorrow of a funeral.
Goldtalon.
His heart ached for the friend he had lost. His heart ached for the molly who had become just another victim of whatever cruel joke StarClan was playing on them.
And it seemed as if Eagleswoop's mind and heart had drifted back to his mother as well.
Sorrelsnap nuzzled into the warrior's fur, breathing in his scent, taking in the presence of his son. He had not believed it when he was told Goldtalon had passed. How could such a strong warrior like Goldtalon simply fade away when she still had a kit in the nursery? It had not been until Sorrelsnap's own eyes had fallen onto the corpse of his friend that he had believed her death. It had not been until he had witnessed the stillness of her chest and the limpness of her body that Sorrelsnap had realized she had died.
He had not been the one to find her. He had not been the one to wake up to her cold corpse.
Grief weighed heavy in his heart. He couldn't imagine how Eagleswoop - Eaglekit then - had felt waking up only to realize his mother would never wake up again. If he could take that pain away from his son and change the past, change it to where he had been the cat to find Goldtalon, then Sorrelsnap would do it without question.
The old tom's heart ached all the more when Eagleswoop brought up the time Goldtalon had snuck herself and Eaglekit out of camp. It had been mere days before the molly had passed. It had been one of the last times Sorrelsnap had spoken with her.
He regretted being angry toward her about that. Back then he had had no idea why she had been so foolish as to sneak a kit outside of camp, but hindsight was not twenty-twenty, and looking back on it now, Sorrelsnap knew exactly why she had done what she had did. Had he of known back then he would have never gotten angry with her. He would have been gentle. He would have been hoping she'd pull through, but Goldtalon had known she only had a few days left. She had known that yet she had hidden it so well. Sometimes he wondered if Jumpingjay had known - his mate had always been able to read situations better than Sorrelsnap could. Jumpingjay had been of the calm emotional type whereas Sorrelsnap had always been the angry emotional type. Opposites attract, his Clanmates had told him. They had been right. They sure had been right.
It was hard for Sorrelsnap to talk about Goldtalon. Even now, when he knew he didn't have much longer to be without his friend and his mate, thinking about her caused his throat to go dry and his mind to waver. In the presence of his son, he felt as if he could be open about how he felt, honest about the true storm that raged within him about it all. Sorrelsnap had come to terms with some of it, but peace about it all still eluded him. "I miss her, too," he admitted with a sigh, pressing closer against his son's muscular frame. "She left so suddenly... I didn't know how to feel about it all. I was so angry, so lost. For a while there I blamed you," Sorrelsnap confessed, unable to look at Eagleswoop, hurt constricting within his chest. "I regret thinking that even now. It tore us apart for so long... How you still see me as your father, I have no idea, but by the stars am I thankful you're not as fox-hearted as I." Perhaps they were both just as stubborn as the other, but Eagleswoop had a heart of gold. Sorrelsnap's heart was not of the same color.
A sigh followed a shake of the head. Slowly, wearily, a ginger limb stretched forward until a white paw lay reassuringly atop a brown paw. "It's hard, and it always will be, but she's always been with you. She may be with StarClan, but a part of her lives on in you. I see her in you every time I look at you, Eagleswoop. And now," Sorrelsnap forced a purr, managed a bittersweet smile, "there's a part of her in your kits. They'll carry on her legacy. She'll never be forgotten so long as her blood runs through this Clan." For as much as he believed his words, Sorrelsnap had to be honest with himself - he wouldn't be caught dead saying such mushy elder knowledge to any other cat but Eagleswoop.
He could hear Jumpingjay now as if his mate was still at his side. "You've gotten soft in your old age, my flower."
Copper eyes rolled in mock annoyance. Soft. Hmph. He'd show Jumpingjay soft one of these days.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jul 10, 2024 12:36:54 GMT -5
If Goldenchill had been ConiferClanโs Camp ghost for the past week, since the unexpected birth of four new kits - Greyhawk had been a ghoul beyond its borders. Their territory was no stranger to ghosts, but even StarClan would have struggled to find audience with the senior warrior in the past few days. The muscled tom returning to camp only with prey clamped between his jaws, his eyes narrowed and focused on the world ahead of him. Interacting with his own shadow only, and the fleeting moments in the dead of night when he curled up tightly beside his mate.
Only to disappear into the territories beyond again when sunrise appeared again.
This was a kind of self imposed isolation the grey warrior took up each time camp knew a new litter. Some punitive thing forced upon Greyhawk by nothing and no one other than his own shattering psyche. If asked heโd insist it was simply him ensuring the territories were safe, that nothing would get half a chance of coming within a country mile of camp while itโs kits were the newest and most vulnerable.
These phases lasted usually a quarter of a moon, if that, so most never scolded him for this.
A quarter of a moon - the time by which new kits were bigger than his daughters had ever become. So he could pretend, for long enough, that each time he saw tiny kits he didnโt see the limp bodies of his own kin, the youngsters whoโd never even drawn breath.
Greyhawk returns to camp now, a skinny sparrow dangling by its wing between bloodied maws. If anyone drank in his scent closely enough, theyโd note something more than his kills. Theyโd scent the mushrooms heโd used to cover the scent of the lands beyond their own, where the senior Tom had gone in search of a fight.
It had been an adolescent wolverine heโd stumbled across and taken out grief and fury both open. Heโd not managed to kill it - the last heโd seen of the dark furred youngster had been its rear scurrying at speed over rocks and through snow. His body bloodied and maw tasting of copper-y blood. The energy expended, but the anger still lingering.
He returns, eyes carried low as he drops his kills onto the fresh-kill pile. His body had tensed, half turned toward the exit again, intent on disappearing before anyone has even noticed his return, when the smell of blood rolls across his tongue again. This time, however, it wasnโt that spilled during his fight nor his hunts.
But the nursery. His body tenses, tasting the air with big gulps as though a cat dehydrated and drinking in deeply. No one seems panicked, terrified, hurting.
It had gone well, then.
Tension turns to limpness, grief abound in the cage of his chest again. Joy was an odd blend of in his gut, the unfairness of it muddying the merriment. |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 10, 2024 13:40:20 GMT -5
Goldenchill ยป
Gingerflame had been easy enough to locate, the ginger furred deputy creating the last patrols for the day when Goldenchill had stumbled upon him. Revealing the news of his arrived litter, the queen watched as the tomcat quickly headed for the nursery, sure to be eager and nervous all the same to greet his newborn kits.
Green eyes followed the tom until he had disappeared into the nursery; excitement and newfound love would welcome him in the milk-scented den. A cherished memory would be made for Silverfern and Gingerflame as they crooned over their healthy litter. StarClan had blessed them. StarClan had tried mixing sorrow into the new parents' joy, but that had been diverted. Goldenchill had been able to bring the motionless kit back to life. She had given Silverfern and Gingerflame only joy.
Such a rare feeling among the battle of kitting.
Goldenchill found it impossible to return to the nursery. She didn't want to disrupt the new parents as they gazed upon their children for the first time, and she didn't want to go back to a den that was full of the mewling of tiny, healthy kits. Back to the den that was now a harsh reminder of what she had lost. Of what she had never had. She never wished ill upon a queen and her new litter, but it was always a struggle for her to see such a sight, for such a sight was always a kick in the gut and a stab in the heart. That sight was something she had longed for for so long, and just when she thought she would have it, StarClan had taken it all away.
Her three daughters, gone before they had taken their first breath. Her son, only allowed to stay with her for one short moon, a moon in which he had struggled. Perhaps it had been cruel keeping him with her for a moon, but Goldenchill had not been able to let go of her one surviving kit. She had been unable to give him up. And so he had made the choice for her. Her little Brightkit, his fur a beautiful shade of ginger, had drawn his last breath in the middle of the night. When Goldenchill had woken the next morning, she had been struck with grief at the sight of her small son no longer breathing, no longer moving. Oakstreak had confirmed the kit's passing. A fourth tiny grave had been made.
Goldenchill had not been able to return to the nursery after that. It had taken her quite some time before she had been able to regain the strength within her to enter that den once more. In her soul she knew she could not return to the life of a warrior, and for a while there she had contemplated joining the elders' den despite not being quite old enough to do so, but eventually she had been able to return to the nursery. Her paws had eventually brought her back to the milk-scented den. It was where she belonged, and she knew that, but that didn't mean her heart was immune to the sorrow that had washed over her in that den all those moons ago.
A shadow off to the side grabbed the aging molly's attention. Her eyes flickered toward the edges of camp where an all too familiar shade stood. Tension rolled in his shoulders, unreadable eyes daring to look at the nursery. He knew. Even from far away Goldenchill knew exactly what was going through his mind.
No longer obligated to return to the nursery, Goldenchill steadily crossed camp, paws only stopping once she had leaned into the sturdy frame of her mate. She breathed in deeply, allowing his scent to curl around her, a comfort for her after she had been reminded of all that she had lost.
"You left the territory again," she breathed into her mate's pelt, knowing all too well what the musky, earthy scent of his fur meant. Goldenchill knew how Greyhawk's paws stirred with unease anytime new kits were in the camp. She couldn't blame him. She felt the same way, but unlike Greyhawk, she was trapped within the nursery by her own mental barriers. "Were you hurt?" She then asked, nose twitching when a metallic tang hit her nostrils. Goldenchill stepped away from her mate, gaze scanning him with worry and discomfort. Greyhawk appeared put together and all there, but underneath the earthy scents of the outside world lay an all too familiar sharpness of blood. Blood that belonged to something more than just a sparrow. The last thing Goldenchill ever wanted to deal with was the death of her mate. He was the last thing in this world keeping her steady, her last pillar of strength if you will. Yes, she had Honeyskip, Bucktail, and Snowtalon, but kin was different than a mate. There was a totally different bond between the cat she had fallen in love with and the cats she had loved since the beginning. Her family was important to her, but Greyhawk was the only cat who truly understood all the grief Goldenchill had suffered for he had suffered all the same.
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Post by Sand on Jul 10, 2024 14:07:13 GMT -5
Oriolehop camp -> outside of camp โ accompanied by: Honeyskip he/him - warrior
 Oriolehop listened as carefully as possible to Honeyskip as she continued on with the memories of their kits. He let out a mrrow of amusement, recalling how Buckkit got in trouble with Oakstreak several times for "disturbing" him. Snowkit, on the other paw, chose to scale the camp walls when he was too young. "Maybe all those interruptions in Oakstreak's den have paid off for Bucktail. As for Snowtalon, he can fix the camp walls for us instead!" he meowed with a short chuckle. "I think we got by on sheer luck, Honeyskip and because you're a wonderful mother."
The orange and white tabby faked a flinch playfully as Honeyskip swatted at his ears. He let out a deep purr, noticing how "offended" she lookedโ there wasn't an ounce of offense in her bones. He scoffed at first at his mate's words before freezing. Does she mean what I think she means? he thought, pale yellow eyes fixated on the golden she-cat. Our next childrenโฆ it doesn't get any clearer than that, Oriolehop.
"I-I would if I could," he whispered before hearing Silverfern's screech from the nursery. It appeared that the queen was having her first litter. The pelts of Goldenchill and Bucktail were visible from their spot in camp. I suppose Bucktail's getting some practice in as a full medicine cat, he thought to himself. His gaze flickered to Honeyskip, who appeared rattled and on edge. His heartbeat quickened and immediately pressed himself against his mate instinctively. Oriolehop made a shushing sound to distract Honeyskip and mostly himself from the situation. "Looks like we'll have even more kits wandering in camp," he mewed before chortling. "At least these ones were expected."
The warrior followed his mate diligently, hurrying after her to the camp exit so the two could get away from camp. They didn't need to be in camp while Silverfern was busy with Bucktail and Goldenchillโ that was their business, not his or Honeyskip's. "Babbling Brook it is and we'll catch a fish for Silverfern," Oriolehop replied as he led Honeyskip out of camp. "Don't think I've forgotten what you said. We can discuss it by the brook unless you'd rather talk about it later?"
[ tags: ladylantsov | image credit: pexels ]
Cariboupaw camp โ accompanied by: Fogpaw she/her - apprentice
 Cariboupaw was, to say the least, bothered. The arrival of two new litters of kits would be more annoying in 6 moons. She shuddered at the thought and hoped she'd be out of the apprentices' den by then. Certainly Rattlepaw would be a warrior by then, right? Which meant Cariboupaw and her littermate wouldn't be too far behind.
Speaking of Owlpaw, she hadn't spoken much to him lately and there was so much she wanted to share! Like her experience with Sorrelsnap who seemed to be a better mentor than Beewhisker or the fact she caught some prey in a scarce area. Maybe Fogpaw would like to get up into antics as wellโ although she wasn't so sure of that. Within seconds of exiting the apprentices' den, the tricolored molly spotted Fogpaw. Perfect! she thought as she hurried over to the short-haired feline.
"FOGPAW!" she squealed while she ran circles around the pale grey tom. "Thank StarClan that someone's around and not paying attention to Silverfern'sโฆ you know."
Cariboupaw paused shortly before shaking out her thick, heavy coat. Although it was cold out, the apprentice didn't seem to mind the temperature. What she did mind was that she was so bored. Plus, the thought of listening to Silverfern's unfortunate screams were less than desirable. "Whatcha been up to? By any chance, have you seen Beewhisker or Owlpaw?" she inquired, her tail lashing like a dog's.
Fogpaw was definitely in for some antics and that's if one could withstand Cariboupaw's energy.
[ tags: Tealraven, mentions Owlpaw whispering | image credit: pinterest ]
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Post by ๐๐๐๐๐ข on Jul 10, 2024 16:12:41 GMT -5
 Motherhood was something Asterfrost had been looking forward to since she was young, but the birthing process was what she absolutely dreaded. How many mothers had lost their lives to kitting, or sickness after their little ones were born? How many mothers never even got the chance at motherhood because their litters barely uttered a single breath when entering the world? She-cats like Goldenchill, and Nightmask were just a couple of many felines that came to mind. Only on very rare occasions had Paintedmask brought up his mother, and only when Asterfrost - Asterpaw at the time - inquired about her.
She was terrified of the reality that becoming a mother meant the possibility of either losing her life, or her kits lives.
As they walked with some distance between them, Asterfrost would look over her shoulder and admire Slatestorm - who kept his eyes solely focused on the path ahead. Her thoughts began to wander, as Paintedmask had pointed out, something she'd been doing a lot lately. She pondered if they would ever have a family one day, and what the reality of that would look like. If she ever were to be expecting Slatestorm's kits, would it be in a world where they've already gone public with their relationship, or would she have to claim some mysterious tom as the father? Not mention she wasn't sure if Slatestorm even wanted kits. Family wasn't exactly a common topic of conversation between them.
If he did, though, she would happily give them to him. He was strong, probably one of the strongest cats in the whole clan, so Asterfrost hoped their kits would inherit his strength. She would pray to StarClan every night that their ancestors might spare the little lives growing inside of her belly, and then pray that she might survive as well. At least long enough to see Slatestorm warm up to being a father, long enough to ensure he'd be okay without her if she ever had to leave them behind.
Finally through with daydreaming, the cream colored molly looked forward again. Before she could run into a bush or trip over a root and completely embarrass herself in front of her tom. Feeling him bump her shoulder brought a smile to the young she-cat's face and she would respond by weaving their tails together. His comment would draw a snort from her, Asterfrost slowly shaking her head.
"I remember when you and your sisters first moved into the apprentices den. We were thankful that Beewhisker and Lemonleaf were about to receive their warrior names and leave some empty nests behind." She tried to be more careful with her verbiage this time, remembering that Slatestorm still struggled to know when she was only teasing.
Asterfrost relaxed into his side more, letting her pace slow down some. She was trying to milk their time together for as long as possible. There was no real hurry to get to Scout's Point anyways. "Have you been getting enough sleep lately?" She casually asked him, trying not to sound as concerned as she actually felt. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 10, 2024 22:49:08 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X]--------------------------------------------------------------------- He could not withhold the hiss that escaped him as his father exclaimed in surprise. "Keep your voice down you old mousebrain." These was only a light dusting of love within the insult, something only those closest to him could detect, but his displeasure was very real. Paintedmask was no spring chicken, he was a stealthy, accomplished and ambitious warrior, and Oakstreak was already well acquainted with the lengths his nephew would go to to remove a cat who he deemed in his way in any capacity. His voice was barely audible now, not wanting to say it. It was practically a death sentence. "Paintedmask. But he cannot know that we know...or I fear I may never get to see the elder's den at all."
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- "That's okay," He meowed earnestly before he even knew the worlds had tumbled out of his mouth. He felt strangely calm. Snowtalon probably just felt relieved that she seemed to return the feelings at all, his worst fear being that he was just pining after her foolishly this whole time. To know she felt the same and just needed more time, that was more than enough for him. "I'm willing to wait for you, Rattlepaw. Just know if you need my help, whatever you need to sort out...that I would help you. No matter what." He meant his words, truly. Just to know she was happy was plenty, but being able to help her be on her journey to recovery would also be a great deed in his eyes. He may not have known what her troubles were, but knowing her he knew she would never ask too much of him. She asked so little of anycat, and yet he still hoped that he could be trusted to assist her in her road to recovery.--------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 11, 2024 19:56:15 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Rejection. That's what she had expected. Or perhaps disgust. Maybe even anger. Rattlepaw only expected there to be a plethora of negative emotions that came from the tomcat, a symphony of nothing but horrible feelings.
But none of that reared their ugly heads. None of that shattered the silence that lingered between them.
Rattlepaw wanted to laugh at herself. She wanted to scoff at her stupidity. How could she believe that a cat like Snowtalon, a cat so noble and gentle, would snap anger back toward her? ... She supposed it was because of another cat she knew. Of a cat who was supposed to love her furiously and protect her with everything she had. A cat she was supposed to trust and feel secure around was a cat she only felt anxious and scared around. Her own mother was supposed to cherish her endlessly, yet all she did was scorn her.
The pointed molly shivered ever so slightly. The scar upon her face burned, the other scars littering her pelt scorching her.
She looked at Snowtalon, wide-eyed and breathless. Could she trust him to not do the same?
A deep breath of snowy cold air. Rattlepaw shivered, not from fear this time, but from the frigid bite that nipped in the breeze. "It'll just be a moon," she repeated, a promise. A promise she was not going to break. "I won't make you wait long." In a moon's time she would have everything settled. In a moon's time Rattlepaw would either be staying with the Clan or leaving it for good, never looking back. She would never be a warrior no matter what happened, but would she end up staying in the Clan as a forever apprentice, or would she leave ConiferClan as a cat that had never made it past the name of 'paw? And if she did leave, would Snowtalon be there at her side?
Shivering once more from the cold that wrapped around every tree and every bush, Rattlepaw shuffled on her paws, reaching out to nudge the finch that lay on the ground, two small bites taken from it. "Did you want the rest?" She asked in a whisper, not daring to allow her voice go any louder. If she spoke too loud would she sound too much like her mother? Voice raised in a deathly hiss, claws unsheathing to deal a devastating blow? The young molly swallowed; the last thing she wanted was to be like her mother. To be like a monster.
Eyes darted this way and that, silently expecting to see a shadow moving in the distance. Eyes expecting to see a beast lurking just a few fox-lengths away.
Nothing.
There was nothing out there, but Rattlepaw knew something lurked among the forest of ConiferClan. She knew that somewhere out there, a monster was waiting for its next victim.
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Post by ๐๐๐๐๐ข on Jul 12, 2024 0:48:00 GMT -5
 "Woah there!" Beewhisker called out, startled by the sudden appearance of his sister. The moment she began scolding him, a sense of dread very quickly began to hang over him like a thundercloud in a storm. It was taking everything in the tom not to roll his eyes, knowing he would very much be in danger of losing an ear should Wolfstride decide to cuff him. Part of him began to wonder if that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he could brag about it, say he lost it fighting some predator. He could very well turn it into a you should see the other guy moment. Then again he'd be mortified if Wolfstride came out with the truth, and StarClan knows she would happily call him out on his shenanigans.
At some point the flame pointed tom began to tune back in, his ears twitching irritably. "First of all, bears don't swoop because they don't have wings. Second of all, I'm sure I would notice a big dumb bird circling the sky, or something as clumsy as a bear." Beewhisker sounded very confident for a cat who had fought neither a bear or a hawk. "Third of all, I hunt just fine." He concluded, not sounding as confident. If Wolfstride had been this close, he was certain that she saw his close call with catching a robin.
Not only had his father witnessed him playing moss ball with a fish, but then a whole week later his sister just had to watch his fumble with a stupid bird. For once Beewhisker thought to brush up on his hunting skills, they were starting to get embarrassing at this point. Maybe when they got back to camp he'd look for Cariboupaw to test her on her hunting skills. 
Stormysages
โฆโฆโฆ
With Cypressmask // Sand Not that she needed her brothers approval, but Stormysage seemed to perk up when he agreed with her, feeling pretty smart for thinking of going to the Scorched Plains. There had to be some prey running around desperate to be fed before bare leaf was upon them. That's when she caught it: Cypressmask's playful little smile, and a glint of mischief in his pale green eyes. The fur on the back of her neck raised, suspicion quickly setting in. Just what was her sneaky brother planning?
Before she had any chance to guess his next course of action, not that it would be hard, Cypressmask was off in a gray blur. "H-Hey!" The gray molly sputtered out, lingering for just a second before racing after him. Her urge to win was strong, and a huge smile was plastered to her face. Stormysage didn't really know how, but her brother always managed to pull that fun and competitive side out of her. It was something she greatly appreciated.
It didn't take long before she had caught up to him, her tail lashing with excitement. "You cheater! There's no way I'm going to let you win now." She panted, pushing off her paws and starting to sprint towards the exit, kicking up dirt in the process. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 12, 2024 18:49:42 GMT -5
SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowtalon finally let himself glance at the finch, now that the bulk of their discussion was finished. He nodded gently before finishing off the rest of it. He truly wished she would eat more, but he would not push her. "Thank you," He murmered as he licked his jaws after his meal. "We can stay out here if you'd like, but I know it's probably much warmer in your den." He had noticed the shivering she had been doing, feeling the cold start to nibble at him as well now that his attention was drawn to it.--------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jul 13, 2024 12:40:23 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpeltโs ears twitched. โYouโre not so young yourself, you know,โ he said playfully, lightly cuffing Oakstreakโs ear. He was still his father and his elder after all.
He was shocked when Paintedmaskโs name left Oakstreakโs mouth. He felt his mouth dry up. My own grandson? He wanted it to be false, to be nothing more than a silly dream. But watching Oakstreakโs fear - his very real fear that he might die - he knew it was the truth.
โCedarstarโs son?โ It was barely audible. It felt like a terrible joke, that his love for his children and his legacy was reduced down to this traitor to everything Beaverpelt had been raised in and, in turn, raised his family in.
He looked at Oakstreak with sympathy and caring in his eyes. โI wonโt tell a soul.โ He promised. Primrosesplash, please watch over our son. I canโt lose another one.
โHave you told Briarstar yet?โ |
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Post by Sand on Jul 15, 2024 11:02:03 GMT -5
Cypressmask leaving camp โ accompanied by: Stormysage he/him - warrior
 Cypressmask let out a chuckle as he glanced over his shoulder, noticing that Stormysage was sputtering at him before she caught on. It appeared his littermate was prepared to beat him at their childish yet obviously fun game. He had lost speed since becoming distracted by Stormysage who had now caught up to him. His lean limbs weren't moving as fast as before. The grey and white tabby tom gasped, staring at the molly in shock.
"I didn't cheat! You weren't paying attention," he retorted, panting as he leapt after Stormysage. "You... won't win!"
The warrior began to sprint with the camp exit in sight. Cypressmask knew that he could beat his sister easily as long as he pushed himself harder. He did his best to avoid the dirt that Stormysage had kicked up, but a few bits hit his pelt. Cypressmask cursed to himself, closing his eyes momentarily before darting ahead. I've got this!
[ tags: ๐๐๐๐๐ข | image credit: pinterest ]
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 15, 2024 16:06:32 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Her pelt was thin. Thinner than it had once been. Rattlepaw was not of the typical ConiferClan type with a stocky build and fur thicker than a grizzly bear's pelt. She was not big boned and not made for blows so powerful that they could knock down even the tallest of trees from its roots. Yet, once upon a time, back before her father had been ruthlessly taken from this life, Rattlepaw had been thicker furred, a bit more muscled, and confident on her paws. She had carried with her a silent source of strength, a hidden well of power that would surprise any enemy, but now... Now she was thin. Bone thin. Not even her fur wanted to thicken out and grow despite the threat of leaf-bare just around the corner. Just as she had lost all determination in her soul to carry on, so had her physical body. All parts of her had given up. Rattlepaw, in her entirety, had given up.
Another shiver snaked down her spine, an icy tendril that reminded her once more of the snow that blanketed the ground. More than likely more snow was on the way. She glanced upward and through the branches of trees. The sky was mostly clear, yet wisps of fragile clouds, gray in color, floated lazily above. Across Clan borders, beyond the other side of the mountain, a blizzard surely raged on. And it wouldn't be long before the snowstorm crossed into ConiferClan territory.
Rattlepaw fluffed out her pelt. She glanced at Snowtalon, jaws tight as she tried to figure out how to answer. The look in his gray eyes made her heart ache, how worried for her he was, how concerned about her wellbeing he was... No cat had truly cared for her like Snowtalon. No cat wanted to care for her like Snowtalon did. She still had no idea what the handsome tom saw in her, but she wasn't going to question it aloud. He cared for her. Truly, deeply cared for her. Instead of question it she could allow it. Allow it until he actually realized what a fool he was for sharing his heart with Rattlepaw.
The smartest move would be to head back to camp. Camp was warm and secure for most cats. But for Rattlepaw camp was a prison. Camp was where her mother most likely was, and if she wasn't, then she would be soon enough. Camp was where cats either looked down on her or pitied her, if they even cared to give her any time of their day. Camp was where she was constantly reminded of her failures and her faults. Not that being outside of camp helped with any of that, but she could at least avoid the stares her Clanmates cast her way easier out here. Out here she could be alone. She could get away from other cats. But out here prowled a monster. A monster so deadly that it had taken her father's life. Her father, a cat who had held great power within the Clan and all the strength of a wolf pack, had been slain under the shadowy paws of this monster. A monster who would surely love to tear into her own flesh and blood as well.
Another shiver coiled down her spine.
"Snowtalon..." She began hesitantly. Would it be smart to approach this topic with him? Would it be wise to speak to any cat about this?
Rattlepaw fell silent. Her blue eyes blinked warily toward the cat she hoped to one day call her mate. Would telling him about the monster put him in danger?
... Or would telling him about the phantom threat save him from acting too rash when he was out in the woods alone?
Mustering up enough courage to continue, Rattlepaw finally broke the silence that lingered between the two. "Do you feel...safe...in the forest?"
It wasn't the best way to phrase that, Rattlepaw knew that as soon as the words slipped off her tongue. It was an ominous question, an inquiry that could easily fluster even a seasoned warrior and have them second guessing their companion. But it was the only way Rattlepaw knew how to go about broaching this topic. The only way she knew how to grab Snowtalon's attention away from the snowy cold and dive into this topic of monsters and death.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 15, 2024 22:39:56 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] --------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak felt his entire body grow heavier and heavier as both shameand heartache flooded him. If he didn't know any better, he would think an actual wave of water had soaked him to the bone, and caused him to be breathless. He adjusted the way he sat now, the heaviness effecting how efficiently he could hold his weight on his three legs. "No...I haven't. Her mate and kits are her biggest concern, and it's obvious that she's busy enough with that as it is..." He almost could taste stomach bile in his mouth, he was so sick with guilt. This was all his fault. There was no way he would ever see Starclan. His love. His mother. Even Cedarstar, a cat he had hated for all of his life...somehow it hurt knowing he would never walk along the stars with them after everything he had done. The only thing he could do was try to save his remaining family, and his clan now. He felt himself growing emotional. "Beaverpelt...this is all my fault..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- The ominus tone of her voice with such a question caused the white cat to feel the sharp cold air even more intensely. Normally he would have dismissed such a question. He saved his leader's life from a large, predatory bird for Starclan's sake! The serious, terrified glinting of her eyes had caught his words in his throat before he could even dare utter them. He really had to consider this. Rattlepaw would not ask him such a thing if there wasn't a point to it. Should he be worried? If he really thought about it, there was one tale from his kittenhood that still haunted the back of his mind every so often. "I mean...there are dangerous creatures that live on the mountain. Being by yourself out here could be pretty dangerous. If the wolves from Oakstreak's horrible stories were to ever return, I don't know if I could even sleep at night knowing what they are capable of doing to a cat."
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 17, 2024 14:02:56 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Wolves.
It would be a blessing if they were the cruelest creatures out here in the mountains.
Rattlepaw was aware of how dangerous wolves could be. She had grown up with Oakstreak as the Clan's senior medicine cat. She had glanced at his scarred body more than once, noticed how he was missing a limb that had once been there, long before she or her littermates had ever been born, long before her own mother had been born. Every cat in ConiferClan knew the story. They knew how a wolf had signaled him out and took chase, how a wolf had preyed upon the brown tabby and tore flesh and bone from his body without remorse. A creature running on bloodlust, a creature with only the intent to kill on its mind.
A wolf and the monster Rattlepaw had become so afraid of were very much similar, but a wolf had a name. A wolf had a presence that could be warned about. A wolf could be avoided. The monster that had killed Flinthawk...not so much. It had no substance to it, no name, no signs of its presence. If it had taken down Flinthawk, a powerful warrior with ambition and skill, then it could take down anything. And Rattlepaw was terrified she was next on its list.
Paws brushed over the sparse grass, crunching underneath her weight as she padded forward, mere inches from brushing her muzzle against Snowtalon's. Eyes wide with questions and fear, she softly asked, "What do you think killed Flinthawk?" As soon as the question escaped her lips she rushed backward, ears flattening against her cranium, tail spiking, the fur along her spine needling straight up.
Too forward, too brash.
Fear glistening eyes narrowed at Snowtalon.
She was too open around him. Too brazen.
The chill in the air reached her bones. She dug her claws into the ground, pushing them deep, deep, deep...
Pain shooting up her limbs knocked her back to reality. Rattlepaw loosened the grip her claws had on the earth underpaw, wincing ever so slightly as she released the pressure on her claws.
What she had asked could not be unasked. Words had tumbled from her maw before she had even the chance to stop them. Snowtalon made her feel light, made her feel secure, but that didn't mean she could open up completely to him. What if this pointed the monster toward him next? What if after it slaughtered her, left her for dead, it came after Snowtalon next? His white fur would be stained red, his eyes as lifeless as Flinthawk's had been when he had been carried back to camp. Snowtalon did not deserve such a fate.
Slowly, steadily, she found the strength to once again step toward Snowtalon, yet this time she didn't stop herself as she pressed against his sturdy frame. Rattlepaw breathed in his scent, attempting to loosen herself and shake off the panic that had clawed at her moments before. "...I'm sorry," she murmured, words coming out in a visible wisp around her muzzle as she breathed the words out. Haunted by the death of her father, hunted by the creature who had stolen him from her.
Truly, what did Snowtalon even see in her that made her stand out from all the other mollies in the Clan?
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 17, 2024 14:35:15 GMT -5
SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowtalon stared at her, watching the waves of fear and far-away looks in his beloved's eyes. He felt heavy on his paws now, wishing he could take the pain from her. His mother was right all along. Her father's death still haunted her. He hadn't said anything while he waited for her to regain herself, leaning into her touch when she had returned. "I don't know," He admitted dumbly. He hadn't really been old enough to be allowed sight of any of the downfall around the camp at Flinthawk's death. He was innocent and small then. He couldn't help but feel guilt at that, despite knowing it was something he had no control over,"I...was told stories of it potentially being a badger or a wolf or something but...I don't know. I...imagine you have a hard time talking to anyone who might know more...if that wasn't the case I would suggest you ask Oakstreak or Briarstar. Did...they never tell your mother what happened?"
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Post by ladylantsov on Jul 17, 2024 15:39:52 GMT -5
SLATESTORM
ASTERFROST CAMP Visions of his first night in the apprenticeโs den draw a rueful chuckle from the grey Tom. The nursery had hardly been spacious, but by the Stars heโd hardly had space to stretch out his legs, for how jam-packed the apprenticeโs den had been that first night. โI donโt know what weโd have done had Beewhisker and Lemonleaf not been close to graduating,โ he shakes his head as he walks, a look of faux-horror settling easily onto a face that knew the truth of those emotions like old friends. โCedarstar would have had a -paw lead mutiny to deal with if he hadnโt been careful.โ
The rattle of Silverfernโs yowls sit heavy on his coat those first few foxlengths, but the comfort of the molly beside him helps chase concerns away.
โWe should hope that no shecats have their eyes on extending their familie for a few moons at least,โ had he put his paw any further down his throat in that moment, chances were heโd choke on it. โWeโll need to double the size of camp if we continue expanding at this rate.โ
A more aware Tom might have dug a little deeper, and caught on to what might have been going through his companionโs mind in that moment. Realised, for most, families were the next logical step for two mated cats. Have delved deeper into his own soul on what he thought in the matter,
Slatestorm, for all his battle-wits and strengths, was not that Tom.
And frankly, if prompted to think about it for more than a second, chances are the blush would show through his thick, dark fur. He was a warrior - one trained by a talented mentor, and forged by cats whoโd seen him and his siblings as tools for their own social standing, tools to better the clanโs strength. Not the children they had been.
Battling badgers as big as he? Kitโs play. Leading stray wolves out of clanโs boundaries? Something he could do in his sleep. But Stars forbid the prospect of kits, miniature versions of himself and the molly heโd somehow convinced to love him.
Fatherhood felt foreign, for it could hardly be said that heโd ever had a father. Even before Flinthawk had been found, slain on the forest floor.
Fortunately, Asterfrost redirected the conversation before Slatestorm could begin hyperventilating.
Sleep. The twitch in his whiskers is subtle, barely perceptible. He didnโt suppose the fitful bouts of shut-eye he managed, between visions of blood-stained forests, and a ruined corpse that looked far too like his own body, counted as quality sleep. Before Flinthawk had passed, the grey-furred warrior had been a restless dozer at the best of times, after the deputyโs death sleep felt like a luxury he was slowly forgetting the memory of.
At least beforehand Slatestorm has been able to work to the point of collapse, find his nest and curl up tightly into it. Sleep at least could be a time of respite from his parentโs expectations, their watchful eye and the Clanโs apparent blindness to their treatment of their children. Now, even sleep was no longer something to escape to.
Nightmares of monster-filled forests, and the deputy Skatestorm hadnโt been warrior-enough to save, made a sure enough job of that.
โI think Iโve forgotten what sleep is,โ Slatestorm admits, the kind of quiet honesty that still felt like some strange blasphemy to him, even when he chose to be, it was mostly done in half-truths that might be easily forgotten, or thought nothing of. โThese days I seem to get a handful of heartbeats, then Iโm up and off again.โ His mreow of laughter is hollow and humourless, frown so deep-set you might find it on his stripped-bare skull. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jul 17, 2024 17:10:30 GMT -5
Greyhawk recognises Goldenchillโs approach without his sense of smell - currently muddied by the blood leaking from a small, thankfully minor gash above his brow, and sense of sight - which he currently focused anywhere else he possibly could. But the closer she came the harder it was to peel his gaze from her golden form. Pain him as it might to look, it was explicit agony to evade her.
But the scent of her hits him like a brick wall when he turns into her warmth rather than away from it, like heโd been trying to do for a quarter of a moon by now.
His mate smelled too much like fresh blood and sweet milk to settle Greyhawk the way her presence usually would. Now it surfaces bad memories as easily as a thrown pebble creates waves on the surface of a stilled lake.
Three mollies, carried further from their mother then any newborn should ever be. Each buried in graves no larger than his paw. Heโd dug the graves himself, chased off with snarls anyone who tried to offer him help. Heโd been obsessive with the work - terrified anything even half an inch too shallow would be found by some unruly fox or badger, that would treat his daughters as little more than a breakfast snack.
Then the son whoโd barely found the strength to lift his head, open his eyes - before the stars beckoned him too.
All of this was memories that sprung to mind at even the slightest whiff of the nurseryโs medley of scents, that lovely aroma that ought to have been so sweet and exciting. The promise of new life.
But Greyhawk couldnโt pull himself away from Goldenchill, even as the visions of limp mollies and their hardly bigger brother taunted his tore further wholes in his already fractured heart. So he steadies himself with a breath, and presses his body against hers. Swirls of grey and golden fur blending together for a heartbeat, before he pulls away at the sound of her question.
For all his molly never left camp - she certainly kept her warriorโs wits. That or she had eyes everywhere, neither would have surprised him.
โIโm fine,โ his response wouldnโt have fooled a fresh-born kitten, least of all his seasoned mate, who knew him better than he knew himself most days. The warrior was clearly favouring his right front paw - and might have sought a medicine cat, might, had upon his return to camp he not realised they were far too occupied with members of the Clan vastly more important then the geriatric fool far too reckless for his moons.
One discerning look from Goldenchill is enough for Greyhawk to know she doesnโt believe him for even a heartbeat, he shakes his head. โMe and a wolverine cub had a disagreement on where our boundaries should be - I won.โ He doesnโt pretend that he hadnโt gone beyond the territoryโs own boundaries, foolish as that might have been.
โItโs seems my fight isnโt the only one thatโs been fought today,โ his voice as calm as anyone could imagine, utter contrast to the rage flowing through veins that was now nearly 8 seasons old. โIsโฆโ he swallows past a lump in his throat, coughing to dislodge it but nothing breaks clear, it only aches. โSilverfern okay?โ
Goldenchill wouldnโt be standing before him, in her wits and calm enough to ask him questions if anything had happened to her litter. Grief hadnโt changed either of them enough to sully that. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jul 17, 2024 17:57:29 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BURNTEARS By the Leaderโs Den It would have taken a blind cat to miss the ghost of grief that danced over Burntearโs expression in that heartbeat. If Briarstar peered any closer, she might have spotted dancing flames and toms long lost in her companionโs suddenly darkened gaze. The dark-furred Queen doesnโt reach out Full coats. Briarstar mustnโt have given it much thought before this because frankly, this was the first time sheโd heard that kittens werenโt born with their full coats. As her barbed tongue rakes across her little mollyโs small form, she supposed it made sense. Their coatโs were thinner, if she peered closely enough she could see their skin beneath tufts of silk-soft pelts. No scars, no blemishes in sight, unlike their motherโs battle-worn body.
She supposed the little ones would look very peculiar if they had been born with full coats, like her own or Eagleswoopโs. Theyโd practically drown in fur.
Does that mean their coats will change as they grow?
Peering scrutinisingly at the bundles of fluff, it was hard to imagine. Surely she wouldnโt wake up to learn Loonkit has sprouted a pure white coat overnight?
Maybe not - but might she have the same ticking as her mother did. Might Newtkit, the palest of her youngsters, darken to be more like his siblings. Maybe Lousekit and Whistlekit would change enough that it meant she could rely less on her nose and hoping to tell one son from the other, as she so often did now.
For now - with the exception of Loonkit, her litter took largely after their father, with broad tabby stripes and bands of brown and pale colouring. Briarstar supposed she preferred that. Hoping it might be a sign her kits would inherit their fatherโs tact for diplomacy and brains, rather than their motherโs often brash, claws first questions if she was charitable, nature.
She doesnโt ask these questions. Enough cats questioned her leadership, she didnโt need rumours about her mothering skills being just as rife.
โWere mollies taken aside and given lessons on all this, and no one thought to ever take me aside?โ Briarstarโs words are rueful, evident in the twitch of her tail. Anything else would have her kits mewling that sheโd disrupted their nap. It hints at her greater concern - that other queens had an instinct that sheโd simply been born without, or had been amputated at some point after the death of her own Dam.
Not for the first time Briarstar regrets never paying attention to kits in their first weeks, her experience narrowed to an awkward muttering of โCongratulationsโ at the mouth of the den before avoiding it for all she was worth. Had she known there was so much to learn, she might have lingered longer, asked her wealth of questions. Received answers before they were demanded of her in the here and now, when four little ones demanded everything she had to give and more.
โOwlkit is a lovely name,โ she concedes. โIf the stars are kind he might be as observant as an owl too as he grows.โ
Most mollies would have preened at Burntearโs next statement, Briarstar allows the side of her scarred maw to twitch upright with her pride. โTheir father can be thanked for that mostly,โ she admits. Only Whistlekit has been her idea - for the fact the youngster had been born mewling his lungs out of his chest, and had hardly shut his mouth since. Even when his face pressed against her belly to nurse, he purred, so a name for his vocal chords had been easy enough to pick out. โCan you believe heโd thought to call one of them Tigerkit before they were born?โ
These little ones, still so fragile they were dislodged from her belly if she thought to inhale too deeply without warning. โI think Oakstreak would be demanding to check my eyesight if I returned to camp declaring one of these little mites to be named Tigerkit.โ
She teases Loonkitโs ears fondly with her tongue, settling the any-sized molly back at her flank. โIt would be like naming this one Snowykit.โ |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 17, 2024 19:26:08 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
A badger would have torn Flinthawk to shreds, leaving behind only tufts of fur and ribbons of intestines that had once belonged within the confines of Flinthawkโs stomach. A badger would have left a mess. As would a wolf. Gnashing fangs and murderous claws would have tore into her fatherโs thick pelt, pulling apart his limbs, breaking every bone in his body. Chunks of flesh would have been missing from his body, entrails would have littered the ground where he had been found.
If he had even been found at all. A wolf would have been more likely to carry his corpse off somewhere than to just let it sit there.
Perhaps the badger would have left his corpse among the leaf litter, but there would have been obvious signs a badger had been in the area. Had murdered a Clan cat.
No, something else had killed her father. Something cruel and twisted. Something with no remorse. Something that was smart enough to cover its tracks and know where to hide.
A beast roamed ConiferClanโs forest. A monster lurked among the mountains.
Rattlepaw knew there was more to her fatherโs demise than just a passing badger or starving wolf.
Of course Snowtalon would suggest speaking to Oakstreak or Briarstar about this. Oakstreak was the medicine cat, the cat who had prepared Flinthawkโs body for vigil, the cat who had examined all the wounds upon her fatherโs flesh. Wounds that had been too deliberately placed, too clean, too skilled for a simple predator passing by. If any cat had a clear idea as to what brought death upon Flinthawk then it would be Oakstreak, and yet โฆ Rattlepaw wasnโt sure how she felt about going to the medicine cat. She wasnโt scared of his repulsive attitude and snarled retorts - if her mother had taught her anything it was that snappish anger was not something to cower over - but she just didnโt have it in her to speak with the medicine cat. Besides, she doubted heโd want to give her any time out of his busy day. She was a mere apprentice - an overaged โpaw - with issues no cat wanted to deal with.
Issues not even Briarstar, her own mentor, wanted to deal with.
The chilled breeze nipped at the back of Rattlepawโs shoulders. Her fur ruffled, thickening itself against the wind. When was the last time her mentor had even attempted training her? When was the last time her mentor had so much as looked at her? Briarstar had given up on Rattlepaw long before unexpected kits had come into the equation. There was no world in which Rattlepaw could go to her supposed mentor about any of her worries.
Rattlepaw looked away, glanced out toward the snow laden trees, when her mother was brought up. Wisteriasnow was a monster herself, a cruel beast with a wretched soul, yet even a monster such as herself had a heart deep down. A stone hard heart that rarely flickered with warmth, yet when Flinthawk had been brought back, when his corpse had been put on display for all curious eyes to gaze upon, Rattlepaw had watched her mother shudder under the news of her mateโs death. For a beast who could not love her own children, it was clear that she harbored some sort of affection for the tom she had created a family with.
More than once, yet still not often, Rattlepaw had observed stolen smiles and loving embraces shared between Flinthawk and Wisteriasnow. Once upon a time she had witnessed her motherโs cruel face brighten with joy upon seeing her mate return back to camp after a particularly dangerous border patrol. Flinthawk had been the one love in Wisteriasnowโs life, but there had been times in which the two fought. Vicious fangs snapping through hostile air as horrid words were shared between the two. Bristling pelts and raised hackles glinting with the watchful light of the moon. Rattlepaw should not have been around for her parentsโ fight, for that angered intimate moment her mother and father shared. Wisteriasnow pushed Flinthawk as hard as she did her own kits.
โWhy arenโt you leader yet? Cedarstar should be dead by now!โ
โIf you want me to be leader so bad then why arenโt you doing anything to help with that?โ
She had left after that. Rattlepaw had fled. If either of her parents had known she had heard their anger, neither had mentioned it.
Just a few days later that anger she recalled on her motherโs face had twisted into grief when her father had been carried back to camp. Fur patched with blood and eyes forever staring into the void of death.
Wisteriasnow had never been the type of cat to show emotion in front of the Clan, but the night of Flinthawkโs vigil had been an exception.
Cold air was forced into Rattlepawโs lungs as she drew in a deep breath. She had not brought up her father with her mother ever since that night. His name had left her tongue when it came to her mother the same day Flinthawk had been left in the ground. She had no idea how her mother would react hearing his name. She had no idea how to even suggest the topic.
Rattlepaw eyed Snowtalon, nudging against him once more, pressing closer into his frame. He was lucky. Not only did he have a mother, but he had a mother who genuinely cared for him. A mother who loved him and nurtured him. A mother he could go to when trouble clouded his judgment and thundered in his heart.
Jealousy planted itself inside her heart. Why couldnโt she have a mother she could love and trust?
Tightness coiled around her as she shook her head. โI donโt know what she does and doesnโt know,โ the pointed feline admitted. โWe donโtโฆtalk much about that.โ
No, her mother had bigger concerns to bring up when their paths crossed.
The freshest wound across her face stung.
โYou should have been a warrior by now. Why are you stalling?โ
Rattlepaw flinched. Her mother was the last cat she could go to for something like this. For anything at all.
Goldenchill ยป
Greyhawk was a tough warrior. There was no denying that rugged muscle and incredible power lay just underneath his thick gray pelt. Strength thundered within him, a raging storm that swirled in silence waiting to be unleashed.
Yet even the strongest of warriors could be felled.
Goldenchill leaned forward, pressing her nose deep into the tomโs thick fur. She breathed in, drawing his scent into her, memorizing every detail about him. Concern rippled under her pelt, a tinge of worry trailing from nose to tail-tip. โPlease be careful,โ she murmured. Wolverines were no joke, cub or adult. With jaws that carried crushing strength and deadly fangs, with heavy paws that hid flesh-tearing claws, they were a formidable foe. A deadly threat. One wrong move and a cat was dead. One wrong move and a cat was sent to StarClan. Fatalities from a wolverine were quite rare, but Goldenchill had known it to happen. Greyhawk had known it to happen.
Memories of a hot-headed brown spotted tabby filled Goldenchillโs mind. Wily and temperamental, it had been no surprise when Dustwing had raced out of camp, yowling to her Clanmates about how she was going to chase the wolverine that had been pushing at their borders off. A clamoring of Clanmates had tried to ward her off, a few even chasing after her.
They had been too late.
Dustwing had been found broken and bloodied, her throat torn out. She had died as she lived, but no warrior deserved to meet their end on the sharp side of a wolverineโs claws.
Greyhawk and Goldenchill had been young when that happened, barely out of the apprenticesโ den when the dusty furred molly had lost her life. It had happened seasons ago, but Goldenchill remembered the sight of the deceased warrior in the middle of camp, throat missing and dried blood caking her pelt.
Goldenchill couldnโt live if the same fate happened to her beloved Greyhawk.
She couldnโt bear it if he had to be buried within the ground alongside their kits.
Green eyes slowly glanced back toward the nursery. The nursery where a new litter of kits lay comfortably upon the nest their mother rested.
No doubt Greyhawk had smelled the scent of new kits and blood upon her pelt.
Goldenchill stepped away from her mate, no longer pressed against him, already feeling a chilled breeze wrapping around her. She shifted, shoulders squaring and tail wrapping around her paws as she sat down. โSilverfern and her kits are all fine.โ All four of her kits. Even the tiny tom that had been too stubborn to breathe. Her heart constricted. Goldenchill had no idea what she would have done had he not stirred to life.
โShe had four kits,โ the aging molly reported. Four kits. The same amount of kits Goldenchill had bore all those seasons ago. The same amount of kits that Briarstar now had.
Pain tugged at Goldenchillโs heart. All these reminders of what she had lost all around herโฆ How cruel StarClan could be at times.
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Post by tumblepaw on Jul 17, 2024 19:53:24 GMT -5
Cloverpatchcamp | open
warrior ~ she/her ~ 27 to 28 moons old
Cloverpatch woke with a start at a loud yowl. Her contentment from what warmth she could get from the sun was interpreted. Her ears twitched towards the nursery where the yowl seemed to come from, the one place in camp she did her best to avoid. Silverfern. Her kits must be coming.
Ever since the gray she-cat announced her pregnancy, Cloverpatch had been dealing with a resurgence of feelings she felt she had come to terms with a long time ago. Regret. Even some guilt. It wasnโt her clanmateโs fault of course or her upcoming kitsโ either for that matter. The pregnancy (and later Briarstarโs surprise litter) just reminded Cloverpatch too much of her own experiences. Most of them werenโtโฆ good.
She shot a quick nervous glance towards the apprentice den. Her own kitsโ if she could even call them hersโ were only a few moons shy of being warriors. And she barely knew them. She kitted them, and that was about it. She left the nursery as soon as she could, only returning occasionally to see them afterwards. Because she had them way too young, failed as a mother, and knew her two deserved better than that. Cloverpatch stopped going completely when one started asking questions. Questions she wasnโt ready to answer.
But was that the right decision? Maybe at the time. It was just easier to go along with their belief that she was their (now absent) older half-sister and leave it at that. She wasnโt even sure anymore though because she longed to have a connection of sort with them now. Watching from a distance every and now wasnโt enough for that.
The she-cat considered going over to see Fogpaw who was sitting outside the den, but he had Cariboupaw for company. Good. An excuse to avoid another awkward conversation for now. At his age he would prefer hanging out with his friends anyways.
Hopping up, the she-cat retreated further from the nursery. Her other clanmates would make sure Silverfern was alright. She wasnโt the only one reluctant to stay. Greyhawk always disappeared during kittings from what she heard, and she noticed a few other cats had left as well. She couldnโt blame any of them for that at all! Kittings were almost always difficult. Cloverpatch sat down as far from the nursery as she could get without leaving camp and nervously licked her ruffled fur. Maybe sheโll leave in a bit too? At any rate, she hoped it would be a quick and relatively painless kitting.
Just wanted to establish what she was doing when the birth happened. Sheโs a bit down right now and could use a hug. XD
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Dew
โ avid book reader โ
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Post by Dew on Jul 18, 2024 8:41:40 GMT -5
Gingerflame 
The last week had seemed to pass in a blur of routine. Gingerflame had been as surprised as anycat when he had padded back to camp only to find their leader had given birth to four kits. Four! Most queensu were lucky to have two surviving kits, and Briarstar had just given birth to four! Coniferclan was lucky that day.
Gingerflame had always wanted a big litter, but now he wished for a small one. Kits were always a blessing, but now they had four extra mouths to feed, right at the beginning of leafbare. They would be lucky if all the kits survived the kitting, but leafbare? They would have to pray to Starclan for that.
The last week Gingerflame had made sure to send out all of the border patrols they needed, as well as extra hunting patrols. Everycat was still safe and healthy, and he hoped no cat felt overworked. Coniferclan was big enough for a few extra patrols, were they not?
At the time of Silverfern's kitting, Gingerflame had been sitting alone at the side of camp, thinking. He had sent out all the morning patrols, but he didn't have a plan for the afternoon ones yet. The sunhigh patrol was the one he was thinking about right now, as in now time at all the sun would have reached its peak.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud screech from the nursery.
Gingerflame stiffened, glancing around camp. Everycat must have heard it. My kits are coming! Was he supposed to go in there? No. Don't toms usually wait outside?
After what felt like years of waiting, and pacing, Goldenchill told him he could go in.
There, in the nursery was his family. Four perfect kits were huddled against Silverfern's now less swollen belly. "They're- they're perfect," he said, grinning. He felt like a little kit again, giddy and excited. This what what he had been waiting for.
"How are you feeling?" Gingerflame asked, his eyes meeting Silverfern's. The silver queen looked tired, and rightfully so. "Do you have any name ideas?"
[Hope this is looking okay! I might mess around with the coding a little bit but for now this is okay. I'll get my other starters up later today] |
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Dew
โ avid book reader โ
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Post by Dew on Jul 18, 2024 15:05:57 GMT -5
Hazelspring
 Just outside of camp - open
New kits had been born. It seemed to be all anycat could talk about, wasn't it? It could be the fact that they were Briarstar's kits, secret kits that only her and Eagleswoop had known about. Hazelspring was sure he had known. Eagleswoop was going to be a good father as well, she could already see that passion in his eyes that plainly said that they would protect them, no matter the cost. Is Sunnynose like that? Under all of his jokes- is he a present father? I bet he spends more time with our kits than I do. Every thought circled back to this. Really she should have known. Her litter hadn't even been his first one! Yet she went for him anyway, a childhood crush. The pain of the kitting had left her exhausted, and Sunnynose didn't ask how she was! Most queens didn't suvive their kitting! What if she had died! Would he have been sad, or maybe he wouldn't have noticed, nit until the stench of death hit his nose. Maybe I should have stayed in camp. I could have found Lemonleaf or Beewhisker. I would be thinking about something other than Sunnynose.
Hazelspring had left camp, alone, only a few moments prior. Her plan was to walk aimlessly around and maybe hunt a little, before heading back to camp. She longed for company, but didn't have the nerve to ask anycat to go out with her. Maybe she would run into someone and they could hunt together. Or she could go back.... Sunnynose was sitting in camp. Just seeing him confused her emotions. She still loved him, she knew that. Hazelspring could admit that she had never truly gotten over the pale tom. But then came the pain, the memoires. Her conscience screaming at her for giving her heart to him. But she didn't have many regrets. Only one, and that was not spending as much time with her kits. She was afraid that she might have gotten distant after their breakup, being there but not quite there. She wanted to fix things with her family starting with her kits. But would they be mad at her for not loving them enough? Would Sunnynose be their only real parent in their heads? What could she even do to change their minds, if that was what they thought?
Just keep going.
Jumptalon
Coniferclan Camp - Feathertalon
Normal clan life had resumed, more or less. Jumptalon guessed the day Briarstar had brought back her kits was still fresh in everycat's heads, because it sure was in his. How did he feel about the kits? Well, they were awfully cute. Jumptalon knew some cats were mad about Briarastar not telling the clan, but how could they be mad?! Just look at them! Jumptalon knew he had to do everything he could to make sure they survived the winter, and so he had volunteered for every hunting patrol he thought he could handle, as well as thinking about asking Briarstar how she was doing, but deciding against it. He really didn't want to accidentally offend her or anything.
Speaking of kits, a screech sounded from the nursery, making Jumptalon's fur spike on end. It sounded like Silverfern was kitting. Please please please Starclan be nice to them. Let them live long happy lives. It was no secret that the leading cause of death in Coniferclan was queens dying due to complications with kitting, as well as kits dying because of complications of birth. It was always devastating when a clan member died, but it was always worse when it was a kit or a mother taken away from her young.
It was then that Jumptalon noticed Mottledfinch, another warrior of Coniferclan. The two toms were alike in some ways, and were different in others. And it was always good to catch up with a clanmate you haven't talked to much. Besides, it would take his mind off the kitting, and those things always made him nervous. "Hello Mottledfinch," Jumptalon said, dipping his head in greeting. His eyes flitted to the nursery again, quickly, then back to his chosen companion. "How are you today?"
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Post by aquatail on Jul 18, 2024 17:53:41 GMT -5
Silverfern with Gingerflame dewbranch
"Aren't they?" she purred as her mate walked in. She stared at their beautiful kits. " Don't worry about me" she grumbled "I'm not a kit" she still had heaps of spark in her. Although that being said she was exhausted. For names, she knew exactly what she wanted to call them. " I think for the tortie she-kit with amber eyes looks like an Orchidkit" she had thought hard and was very proud of this name.
How many do you want me to name dewbranch?
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jul 18, 2024 18:43:27 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt could feel the guilt rolling off Oakstreak in waves. Something is not right with my son. The thought settled like a rock in his mind. This could not be just the guilt of a medicine cat who had maybe waited a little long to speak to their leader regarding a vision. Beaverpelt took in Oakstreak with his green eyes, trying his best to hide his own discomfort. Was there someplace he had failed his last child? What had happened that Oakstreak was now suffering like this?
โShe did just have kits, yes, that is very important. But you need to tell her soon.โ Beaverpelt said gently; his fatherly instincts returning. He moved closer to his son, wanting to give him support. โYou canโt blame yourself for whatever has happened. We can only do what we can to fix what is to come.โ He spoke in a soothing voice, like he had when his kits were young and would mewl about scraping their pawpads. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 18, 2024 19:10:58 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; ladylantsov--------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears kept a happy little purr in her throat as she listened to her leader's words. Briarstar and her new family were already so precious. "I think you are already doing great. I just had a lot of help in the nursery so I had the other queens to teach me things. It's also hard not to love such precious little names, meant to represent their budding personalities." She noticed the little balls of fur becoming their own cats already, one of the most exciting aspects of motherhood. She only wished Briarstar would be free of it's many sorrows, and got to love and cherish her kits.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowtalon fell silent as he thought through her words. Wisteriasnow wasn't always the most emotionally forward or outwardly friendly cat. He also imagined Flinthawk's death had effects on her mind not too unalike what happened to Rattlepaw. He knew not what truly happened between their family in the dead of night, but he imagined now that it probably wasn't the best. Come to think of it, he rarely saw Wisteriasnow around Rattlepaw much at all. Maybe...she was a worse mother than he had ever truly considered, to let her own kin feel so directionless and sad. To not step up for her kits after the loss of their own father. He couldn't help these pessimistic thoughts. "Maybe we can start with asking my mom and dad. They remember everything better than I do...and I can talk to anycat for you, if you aren't comfortable. I know you can speak up for yourself...but if you want me to instead, I am offering." He leaned back into her, brushing his cheek against hers in the most comforting way he knew how. He knew that, no matter the truth of Rattlepaw's blood kin, she would be warmly welcomed into his family. That his mother and father would love her as one of their own, even if she was Rattlepaw for the rest of her life. They were compassionate and perfect. It was hard not to feel guilty about this blessing...but he instead was trying to share it with her. To let her know what boundless love was. From himself. From his family.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X]---------------------------------------------------------------------
Oakstreak gave an exasperated sigh. Beaverpelt didn't know anything of the horrors he had played a part in, and despite his guilt, did not want to tell his father the whole truth of it. Fear was strong within him as well, deep and endless. "I will tell her. You're right. The clan needs her to have her best chances against this threat." He met his father's eyes now, green pools of pain boring into the older cat's soul. He wanted to tell him everything...but if his father knew, would he still love him? Would he still see him as his little Oakkit? Still love him in that thankless way he always had? Would he be able to forgive his involvement in the death of his only other kit? Instead of any of that, his confessional began with something much easier to admit. "You know, I always have loved Nightmask. Even after her dying breath...I've always loved her. I miss her every day and every night. The worst thing the wolves ever took from me was my chance to be with her."
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SunnynoseWarrior * 41 moons * He/Him * tagged; Dew--------------------------------------------------------------------- Sunnynose watched as his former mate made her way out to the camp, and had to quickly look away before she noticed. He knew she hated him still, for everything that had happened between them. He hadn't spoken to her much since their split...but thought that maybe now was the time to at least get things back to friendly again. He knew she would have to have bees in her brain to ever come back to him, but he wanted them to at least be civil. For their offspring. He quickly padded over to where she had settled herself and gave a soft meow to indicate his presence. "Good morning. Isn't it nice that the clan is so full we have to expand the warrior's den already?" Good start, Sunnynose. Let's see if she will even entertain the small talk.
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Dew
โ avid book reader โ
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Post by Dew on Jul 18, 2024 22:13:51 GMT -5
Gingerflame
The Nursery - aquatail
Gingerflame laughed softly at Silverfern's remark, his eyes twinkling. "Why of course not! You just look tired, is all." Gingerflame hadn't seen any kittings, but he knew that they were tiring. Especially with four! Some mothers would be lucky to have one, and they had been blessed with four. Orchidkit... I like that," he purred, pressing himself against his mates side. Inspecting the other three kits carefully. There was one kit, small that caught his eye. "I like Hollowkit for the little tom over there, what do you think?" Gingerflame said, flicking his tail toward the direction of the small kit. They were suckling now, tiny eyes closed. Could they even hear their mother and father speaking about them right now? "You can name the other two, after all, you did most of the work," grinning madly, Gingerflame sat up, inspecting each of his kits carefully. They were all so cute, and he hoped they would grow to be strong too. What path would they choose? Warrior? Medicine cat? Something else? Whatever paths they choose, let them be good ones.
Hazelspring
Just outside camp - ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ
It was as if her thoughts had summoned him. It was true she had been avoiding him, but that seemed to have been working fine for the two of them. Sunnynose never sought her out and most cats knew what had happened, even if they didn't understand it. Kind of pathetic, how everyone else has moved on, but you. How many seasons has it been? Six? Seven? Surely not. It wouldn't crush her to talk to him. She wouldn't let him do that. "Yeah, I guess it is," Hazelspring sighed, the conversation ending on a dead note. Conversing had never been a skill that she had had. Most of the talk in their relationship was Sunnynose, now that she looked back. It had all been him.
"I was- um I was planning on going for a walk, if you wanted to come with?" Why did her heart still flutter slightly when he was near? Why did a part of her still love him when the other hated him? Why did he make her feel this way without even trying?
Deciding on not waiting for a response - since she was going to go anyways - Hazelspring started to pad away slowly. An invitation if he wanted to join. He could leave her in the woods alone, like she was fully expecting him too, or he could follow her. They would talk, hanging with Sunnynose always involved a chat. She was surprised he had made it through his vigil without uttering a word. Does he want to make up? Does he want to be... friends? Is that why he's trying to talk to me? Doesn't he remember I'm not much of a talking type of cat? What if he had forgotten, and she had hurt his feelings somehow, by just saying those few words? He would deserve it, after what he did to me.
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Post by aquatail on Jul 19, 2024 17:14:38 GMT -5
Silverfern Gingerflame dewbranch
She thought that hollowkit suited him perfectly. "As for the other two, that one should be Copperkit and the other one Possumkit." she purred. She couldn't believe these were her kits! One day these kits will become warriors, medicine cats or even deputies and leaders! But whatever they become she will be proud of them. She just hoped with all her heart that they would choose good paths. "What do you think?"
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