a girl like her ♡♥ smogmaw

[Halfshade]

The kits were playing, or rather, some of them were. Swankit was sleeping, Valeriankit was sniffing about some flowers and Applekit was trying to convince Garlickit to eat a bug. The usual for her little bundles of joy.
“They’re all so big already, it’s tragic. I miss when they were small…and didn’t talk much.” A lighthearted joke, but sometimes the words out of those kits mouths were alarming at best and blasphemous at worst.
She loved her daughters and only son, but kittens grew fast and they were already out and about and up to mischief. Halfshade had been debating her recent decision for some time, while she had felt lighter and more optimistic after leafbare the shift in leadership had left her gradually teetering down back into a pessimistic rut that had only blossomed into delight with her kits.
It had made the choice all the more obvious to her.
“I’ve decided to stay in the nursery. You wanted a second litter later anyways, hm~?” It was a sharp statement followed by a coy purr, but it did not change anything other than she now gave up her freedom to leave camp in order to maintain her sense of self more assuredly.
The talk she’d had with Chilledstar had gone nowhere, they were still a nutcase, angry and loud just like their predecessor but where Pitchstar’s anger at least came across warranted at times the black and white cat liked to spew vitriol and negativity wherever they went; every meeting was a waste of time, any discussions ended in outburst. Halfshade thinks of when her mate returned bloodied from WindClan’s border and their response had been a screeching halt to discussion and kit-like wailing for silence. She recalled telling them to stand up for themselves once and the response had been ‘silence or murder’ and she had dismissed it at the time as just poor phrasing but now she understood. It was silence or murder. You either agreed fullheartedly or you were not worth the time. Chilledstar was never going to be a leader she’d support and that was that. So be it. She would back her mate over them and she would wait for the day Smogmaw could instead be leader where she could resume her duties as per the norm without worry. In the meantime, the nursery was the best place for her. She would not have engaged with any of Chilledstar’s decisions or demands there; she could simply care for the kits and enjoy the peace of knowing her place would remain consistent and quiet. A queen's duties were as important as a warriors and ShadowClan lacked proper caregivers.
“You’ll tell your leader that Loampaw need not be reassigned back to me then, love?” Poor lad, she felt bad she had not given their training adequate attention before having kits but that was how it was.
​

 

[smogstar]

During the moons of knowing, before the birth of their kits had come to pass, Smogmaw's resolve succumbed to a slow-growing uncertainty. For every time he awoke in his beloved's company, chin nestled in her plush furs and sleepy gaze bathed over her figure, the doubts harboured about his impending fatherhood seemed to deepen. Commitment was not a grievance for him, nor was Halfshade's love ever a matter of question—yet, one could not seperate themselves from their nature on promises alone.

On one paw, Smogmaw grovelled to other's expectations, amongst his mate's, and formed the tenets of his personal conduct accordingly (with his own benefit in mind, of course). On the other, a familial bond not only imposed limits on the autonomy he treasures so dearly, but also entailed a new amount of vulnerability woven into the threads of his being. It'd been a contest of two diametrically opposed forces, and one which he wasn't unfamiliar with.

A previous encounter with this struggle saw him choose the side of autonomy.

In this instance, however, his allegiance shifted to that of responsibility—and not a modicum of regret burdened his conscience in the days since their birth.

Rolling in his throat is a purr of the gentlest kind. The dark stripes of his tail mingle with the creamy strands on Halfshade's flank, his shoulder pressed lovingly into her own. It is in these moments where wounds do not matter; the pain which lingers, when juxtaposed against the love for his mate and his children, holds no significance whatsoever. And the saccharine undercurrent of her words soothes him even further, washing away the remnants of uncertainty in his heart.

"Tragic, yes," he finds himself agreeing, eyes flitting to the apexes of their sockets to reach Halfshade's. "But that's how the ol' game of life works, isn't it? Enjoy the little things while you have 'em... 'cause adolescent angst is just beyond the horizon." What a notion that is, having to address his kids with '-paw' at the end of their names. Smogmaw would rather not entertain the idea of their rebellious phases just yet.

When Halfshade continues to speak, touching upon a decision she'd made to remain in the nursery, the ashen-toned tom is compelled to pause and collect his thoughts. If this choice is a matter she had hinted at in conversations prior, then he cannot muster a recollection of it. It leaves him taken aback, somewhat, for he realises this indicates they won't have a shared nest in the near future. A clearing of the throat precedes his words. "I suppose this means nepotism is out of the picture, then," the deputy vaguely asserts. "Shame, that. You'd have been a good lead warrior."

Though he puts more immediate emphasis on the former half of her revelation, it is the latter which holds deeper implications. A second litter, she says. Hell, of course he wants to have another. "Another litter. For peace of mind's sake, let us make that a long-term goal. Maybe when our four are almost done their apprenticeship." ​