as the tide changes, so too do we || p

[Neptune.]

Larkwing
~<>~
27 moons || she/her || RC Warrior || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Killer Aptitude T2
scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes

Larkwing is not in a good mood. Can you blame her, though? First, she has to brave enemy territory to collect a disobedient apprentice and subsequently gets her bones rearranged, following that she has to get them shoved back in proper alignment and, on top of that, her conversation with Stormstar left her feeling... admittedly, a little gutted (at least that's what her roleplayer is assuming, this interaction is set after that conversation that hasn't happened yet!). And, more than that... she's apparently pregnant now, too. Yay...? Probably...?

The poppy seed she'd taken before the splinting of her leg and her tail left her drowsy, and the absence of adrenaline doesn't do much to aid in making her not nearly nod off. She doesn't want to sleep, her mind is still active and her body's still in so much pain. Plus... there's a certain cat she's hoping to see walk through the den's entrance, blue-grey pelt shining with the glow of a cat who was once again becoming healthy. She'd worried so much for him, and he'd worried for her and... and now she has perhaps a relationship ruining secret to share with him.

They'd never spoken much about the future, never spoken at all about themselves and whatever this... thing they had together was. Clearly they meant a lot to each other, and clearly that feeling was mutual, but... Larkwing wasn't certain it was permanent on Fishfreckle's end. She'd never known something to be permanent before. Would she scare him away? Would she scare herself away? Run away for real this time and raise their children alone? She knows what rejection feels like. She's prepared for that. She has no idea how to prepare for the possibility of acceptance, though.

She smells him coming before she sees him, and her head shoots up from where it had been resting on white tipped paws, lips pursed as a white muzzle pokes into the den, followed by the rest of him.

"Fishfreckle," she greets, unable to restrain her smile despite how nervous she is.

[ @Dark - fishy ]

[Dark]

Fishfreckle

Go With the Flow | Silver Tongue (T1) [Perm] | Mind Reader [Perm]
___________

Upon returning back to camp, Fishfreckle received some horrible news. Amberdusk had told him that Larkwing had gotten herself hurt and was in the medicine den. Not wanting to waste any time, he quickly pushed past the dark-furred warrior and headed in the direction of the den.

By the time he got there, he had worked himself up while thinking about all of the possible ways that the former leader could get hurt. For a moment, he hesitated. He hadn’t waited to learn about specifics, and what if… what if she had gotten herself really hurt? Did he… did he really want to see that?

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and entered the den. The first thing that he noticed was her face. She was smiling. It struck him as odd, that one could smile so brazenly after getting hurt. After all, most of his own injuries had been results of either unceremoniously getting dropped on his head, or hitting the aforementioned body part on something or other. It… it was a genuine smile, accompanied by the sound of his name leaving her lips. An odd feeling filled his stomach and an odd warmth that he seemed to get around her at times wormed its way throughout the length of his pelt.

The next thing he saw made him stop in his tracks. Her leg. Her tail. She… Stars above what happened to her? Rooted in place, he just stared at her. Fishfreckle didn’t know what to say or do. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to demand to know who had done this to her, but he just… couldn’t. The anger wouldn’t come.

In place of his usual anger was a feeling whose coming and goings were few and far between, but when it came to her – to Larkwing, it cropped up far more often than before. Fishfreckle was worried for her. He was concerned about the pretty (pretty? Well… it was true…) tortoiseshell, and more than anything, he wanted to make sure that she was okay.

Taking a step forward, he let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. ”Larkwing…” He replied softly, features tight with stress and worry. As he drew nearer, he got a closer look at her wounds, and was unable to hide the pained expression that took over his face. He hated this. He hated that she was once again hurt, and he hated that he had been unable to help her.

”Why do you insist on getting into trouble, hmm Larkwing?” He asked rhetorically, touching his forehead to hers in a now common ritual ”I can’t always be there to protect you, y’know. I wish you would stop scaring me like this.”

For a moment he didn’t say anything else as he took a deep breath, inhaling her sweet Larkwing-scent. At some point her voice, her smell, everything that made her, her, had become something he found comfort in. He didn’t know what any of it meant, but he was content with this little arrangement of theirs at the moment.

As he pulled away he licked the top of her head softly before he met her eyes with his own. ”Are… are you okay…?” He asked somewhat awkwardly. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what it was that he was supposed to say. She was clearly not okay, but he didn’t want to be callous and not extend the question to her. He cared about her wellbeing, in his own Fishy way, but being… soft? Yeah, this softness was foreign to him, even if that was what made up most of their interactions nowadays.

[ @Neptune. ]

[Neptune.]

Larkwing
~<>~
27 moons || she/her || RC Warrior || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Killer Aptitude T2
scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes

His question makes her uncomfortable, she hadn't meant to get in trouble, to get herself mangled, but the press of his forehead against hers, and the rasp of his tongue between her ears are welcome, injured molly leaning into the touch as much as she could. She doesn't want to ruin this, doesn't want this to be destroyed, but keeping her knowledge to herself would be cruel.

So she'll work up to it.

"I'm... alright," she says, and if that's sort of a lie, then, well... they both already know so anyway, she can put on a brave face. For him. "Could've fought him off," she says, again trying for humor at her own expense. A defensive reflex to protect herself and those around her. "He just caught me off guard. I'll get him next time, I'm a big tough girl, remember?" It's said with a strained smile, an answer about what happened without actually answering.

Before anything else, though, she has to apologize. "Fish, I'm- I'm sorry, for snapping at you after the otters. I didn't- I was just frustrated. But you can't be there to protect me all the time," but... well, hopefully, in the coming moons, there would be very little need for him to 'protect her' from anything.

Tentatively, she stretches out her neck in an attempt to brush her muzzle against his own, trying to steel herself for rejection, trying to steel herself for acceptance.

"There's something I have to tell you," in the back of her mind, she registers that now might not be the best time. She can't run away if it goes bad. She can't escape even if she wanted to. There's a pause as she works herself up to it, and she can't meet his eyes so she looks away, gaze trained on their paws.

"Fish, I'm pregnant."

[ @Dark ]