Private candlelit smile that we both share

[loonstar loonstar]

juniper

"and this time, she won't be forgiving"​​

sea foam rushes to meet the earthy tones of the shore, sparkling with a silent contentment with the games she plays. she is only half-revealed whenever Juniperstar draws near, not unlike a beach dressed up in the high tide, only stripped away when she departs to be vulnerable and honest in the loneliness of solitude. but she doesn't mind... she's happy to reach the wave as far as it can if only to embrace those hidden parts, even if it means pretending they aren't covered by her closeness. "I've missed you," she admits on a breath that rumbles with a purr that doesn't seem quite comfortable enough to crescendo in its volume. "I feel like, with so many little ones to watch after, we've both been distracted."

it wouldn't be the first time... curled up in a shared space to wrap tightly around small bodies. at least these nights, it is with sleeping faces not pulled taut by grief, not dampened by another night spent mourning. every morning means another chance to gaze upon the softness of her features not neatly held into a scheming glower. she is almost peaceful... but for the subtle, impatient flick of her tail. even in her sleep, she seems frustrated... but what haunts her eludes the spotted tabby. the distance is tangible, though it is willfully ignored in favor of hoping that everything is right in the world for once. that things can move forward and grow. she's learned not to try and pry, keeps herself tucked in the shadows if that's what makes Serpentberry happiest.

because her happiness is happiness enough for both of them... but... maybe... it cracks today. the nagging little voice that says she was missing something important, that her embrace wasn't sunken into as whole-heartedly as it once had. or maybe it was just that day that still prickles at the back of her neck- she hadn't included her in her decision to adopt those kittens. was it spite? was it anger?

"I didn't really think you would want another litter so soon," she comments, careful but probing. "What... made you pick these ones?"

──✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮

• @serpentberry
• juniperstar
  leader of thunderclan
  seven lives remain
  

 

[serpentberry serpentberry]

Serpentberry minds sharing her lover with the Clan. She supposes if life handed her a different set of cards, this jealousy would still have existed. If Thornstar reigned instead of the spotted molly, the tortoiseshell still would've found herself shelved for unending moments. Being a second to anything is deplorable in its own way, and Serpentberry quickly found herself sinking in Juniperstar's personal rankings. The Clans, their kits - that bicolored tom that haunts their border every now and again. The medicine cat is often shuffled amongst the others in their order of importance. It is something she sees with striking clarity but never appreciates.

But these moments - fleeting in time, true, yet cherished nonetheless - each feel like a gentle reset of that plaguing annoyance. Oh, how she loves to control and play, yet she is no different than a lonely hound in the end. Juniperstar's mewl of, "I missed you," vanquishes almost every nuisance that has built up over the day. Serpentberry trills her own joy, pressing her nose to the flesh of the other's ear. The mention of their duties and kits is initially tucked aside, deemed unnecessary in their rare moments of peace, until the other returns it to the conversation with ease. The tortoiseshell doesn't allow frustration to follow it. Instead, she answers with a slight, impersonal shrug.

"Pick is a funny way to put it," she teases, ultimately. The story is that they were tossed to the wind, smattered with the blood of a recently deceased parent. After that tragedy, who else would care for them? Serpentberry, however, continues to entertain the inquiry with an even, quiet, "You had yourself a little one, and I -" was jealous, was annoyed, still am. You vex me without intending to, "- recalled with our first litters, how we raised them alongside one another. Times weren't better then, but my memories of those moments are... nice, to say the least." She coils her tail with the other's, leaning into the purr that trembles in Juniperstar's chest. "They're the only good memories I have of then. And - great stars - that was nearly four seasons ago. The snow will be falling soon again..."

She trails off, quietly, thinking of how old their older litters are now. Her own will be warriors if they can prove themselves soon enough, and Juniperstar's will be approaching quickly after. She blinks the surprise from her gaze, turning back to her love. "And you? Hollykit is a sweet little bug, but I doubt he shown much promise when he was new... What pulled you to him?" The jealousy sparks again, but she presses it down with a swift lick to her chest fur.