Post by xvinn on Nov 5, 2024 18:35:08 GMT
fawnflower (she/her) | orchidclan
There was a method to the madness, they said. And what Fawnflower had been thinking about in the more recent sunrises was certainly a form of madness, right? She had sworn after the arrival of news of Falconpelt and Acaciapaw falling through the ice and being unable to break their way out again that she would remain alone. Though, she always told herself that she was never truly alone. She had the company of her friends, of her kits, of her family, of the other queens and kits who she loved to care for. But it didn't make things sting any less when she had imagined a certain life for herself. She had imagined that she would have one mate for life, that she would have a large family and she would watch all of those kits live and thrive and become great warriors of OrchidClan. She had even been named Fawnflower for such a clear desire to raise kits. Instead, she ended up in a world where she had watched two mates and three kits die - all of those kits dying before they even became warriors.
From the vantage of the nursery, Fawnflower was able to see most of the comings and goings of the Clan. She had a close eye on cats, and often an ear for gossip. With a slightly more mother hen vibe, cats could often feel like they could be open with her, meaning she knew some of the more interpersonal things between various cats. This meant she had certainly heard some rumours around a certain tom who had always been a bit of a force of nature within the Clan.
The queen sat up straight, leaning forward to give her pelt a good clean. She had managed a reputation of somehow managing to keep an incredibly clean and rather pretty appearance despite spending all her time around kits running around in the muck. She even took a pride in the pristine colour of white upon her chest and paws. If she wanted to do what she was planning to do, she wanted to make sure she better than ever, because this would most certainly not be an act of love the same way she had felt towards Rookclaw and Falconpelt.
Feeling satisfied with herself, Fawnflower scanned the camp. She was sure she had seen the large tom leave on patrol earlier in the day, likely sent towards GaleClan to stir up some more trouble. The thought made her uncomfortable, her tail twitching behind her as she looked towards Morningstar's den. Why her sister felt this was the best way to go about the lack of prey, Fawnflower could never understand. There had to be better ways than to put the pressure on an already weak GaleClan struggling with grief, right? She could absolutely sympathize with them on that front.
The queen made her way towards the entrance. She also had to admit to herself that she wasn't sure she wanted to attempt her plan in front of the prying eyes of her Clanmates. Not only to save herself the embarrassment of if he turned her down, but she didn't want certain cats who she knew had been hurt by the warrior to see that someone might be showing him some sort of kindness.
"Bisonstorm," Fawnflower called as she saw the towering tom approaching camp once more. Her voice was demure and sweet, not unlike any usual sort of tone. "I need to collect some more moss for the nursery and can't carry it all myself - would you be kind enough to come on a walk with me?" she asked. She hoped that perhaps her offer sounded at least somewhat flattering, to talk about something she knew the warrior took a great pride in - his size and strength.
From the vantage of the nursery, Fawnflower was able to see most of the comings and goings of the Clan. She had a close eye on cats, and often an ear for gossip. With a slightly more mother hen vibe, cats could often feel like they could be open with her, meaning she knew some of the more interpersonal things between various cats. This meant she had certainly heard some rumours around a certain tom who had always been a bit of a force of nature within the Clan.
The queen sat up straight, leaning forward to give her pelt a good clean. She had managed a reputation of somehow managing to keep an incredibly clean and rather pretty appearance despite spending all her time around kits running around in the muck. She even took a pride in the pristine colour of white upon her chest and paws. If she wanted to do what she was planning to do, she wanted to make sure she better than ever, because this would most certainly not be an act of love the same way she had felt towards Rookclaw and Falconpelt.
Feeling satisfied with herself, Fawnflower scanned the camp. She was sure she had seen the large tom leave on patrol earlier in the day, likely sent towards GaleClan to stir up some more trouble. The thought made her uncomfortable, her tail twitching behind her as she looked towards Morningstar's den. Why her sister felt this was the best way to go about the lack of prey, Fawnflower could never understand. There had to be better ways than to put the pressure on an already weak GaleClan struggling with grief, right? She could absolutely sympathize with them on that front.
The queen made her way towards the entrance. She also had to admit to herself that she wasn't sure she wanted to attempt her plan in front of the prying eyes of her Clanmates. Not only to save herself the embarrassment of if he turned her down, but she didn't want certain cats who she knew had been hurt by the warrior to see that someone might be showing him some sort of kindness.
"Bisonstorm," Fawnflower called as she saw the towering tom approaching camp once more. Her voice was demure and sweet, not unlike any usual sort of tone. "I need to collect some more moss for the nursery and can't carry it all myself - would you be kind enough to come on a walk with me?" she asked. She hoped that perhaps her offer sounded at least somewhat flattering, to talk about something she knew the warrior took a great pride in - his size and strength.
haze ● 635 words
