pafp Bei Mir Bistu Shein || Sharing Tongues

[Chickbloom]

// Please wait for @butterflytuft !

One could be forgiven for thinking a corpse had come to inhabit Skyclan's camp.

Chickbloom was splayed out on his back, the rhythmic thump of an egg-splashed tail-tip against the ground the only thing indicating he was still alive. An eternally-anxious gaze was aimed straight up, amber eyes wincing each time the breeze parted branches and leaves for the sunlight to beam down and blind him. Still, he did not move. Chickbloom was not a lazy cat, but the boy had been stuck in this state of melancholy since his outburst on patrol. deep in his gut, the baby bird believed that seeing his housefolk okay would make him feel better.

It did, for a few moments, but the boy's mentality had a tendency to ruin things. the pair were carrying on as if he'd never left. what did that say? they were only in sight for a few moments, but they didn't seem upset about the moons spent apart from their pet. was he just overthinking it? Or was the love between man and beast far more one-sided than he once thought? Perhaps he'd been replaced, and a cute kit now called the pair family.

The whelp let out an annoyed huff at the thought, and he finally rolled over to stand up. "Why do I care? They're the ones who pushed me away." Amber eyes came down from the clouds, flicking over his clanmates soaking in one of the last greenleaf suns. "This is my family now."

Padding forwards, the former kittypet decided to push his social limits. these cats weren't his housefolk, they wouldn't reject him. "E-Excuse me-" The milksop mumbled, deliberately choosing a cat he didn't know well. "Would you - y'know - w-would you like me to c-clean your fur?" ​

 

[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft sits quietly near the edge of camp, basking in the warmth of the fading greenleaf sun. Her thoughts had been elsewhere - on her kits, on her new kittypet friend, on the new happenings in camp. So lost in her own head, the hesitant voice that interrupts her thinking causes her to jump slightly, round eyes blinking as they fall on Chickbloom. She doesn't know him well, never really has, but she supposes they have a lot in common. Both are now completely former kittypets. Both are on the more nervous side, always a little more unsure. She supposes she finds some comfort in that.

She smiles gently at him, her tail curling around her paws. "Sure, Chickbloom," She replies softly, hoping to be warm enough to put the timid tom at ease. She always has been a fan of sharing tongues - it relaxes her. She shifts slightly to give him space, yellow eyes kind. Her mottled head lowers to groom his fur, and she dares to mew, "How are you doing? You know...after everything." Her heartstrings tug when she thinks about what had happened to her clanmate. How awful that he'd been left behind by the twolegs he'd been so loyal to.​

 

[Chickbloom]

It was a strange thing, but Chickbloom felt a pang of guilt as the request left wavering lips. Was this a good idea, trying to get out of his bubble? What if Butterflytuft was wrapped up in her own thoughts, and would only see the whelp as a nuisance? Chickbloom knew he wouldn’t want a stranger making smalltalk and straightening yolk-stained fur if the coward was mired in melancholy (even if it would be good for him).

Thankfully although they were similar in disposition, Butterflytuft exuded a calming warmth when accepting the warrior’s request (that, or she was as big doormat as he was. Chickbloom hoped the former was true). The skittish Scottish Fold sat as shaky paws began to work over Butterflytuft’s pelt, perhaps overly cautious as he wasn’t really used to grooming fur that wasn’t his own. The milksop was silent for a long while as he stressed over the task at hand, only relaxing a little when he realized it was similar to weaving - except in reverse.

“I’m…f-fine” The warrior finally answered, honest despite his shaky tone. “There’s - there’s good days and - and b-bad, but, y’know - I think the w-worst i’ve felt is still - still b-better than anytime being locked up in that den, so…” The tomcat trailed off, wishing he was more eloquent. “Y-You all make it better.”

“Sp-Speaking o-of, how’re you? I guess I’ve never asked - s-sorry - but I feel like it’d get pretty b-boring in the nursery.” Chickbloom was wholly unaware of the chaos that came with managing a den full of kits (and was in no hurry to find out) so his concern may be misplaced, but at least it was genuine.​

 

[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft appreciates the warmth in Chickbloom's voice, despite his evident nervousness. She allows herself a small, reassuring purr as she settles comfortably. His cautious grooming might be a little unsteady, but his genuine effort is noticeable; her patient self could never fault him for it. "I understand," She replies softly, casting him a sympathetic look. "And I’m…glad. It's nice to know that we're making things a little better for you."

She chuckles softly at his question, her eyes softening with a warm, knowing look. "The nursery isn't always quiet or easy. Kits have a way of making everything lively. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Watching them grow and knowing I'm helping them find their place in the world...it's a special kind of fulfillment." Butterflytuft glances at the tom again, giving him a reassuring nudge with her head before continuing her grooming. “The kits like visitors, if you ever want to drop by to play with them. It could help you, too,” She offers more quietly, not wanting to project her “counseling.”
​

 

[Chickbloom]

Simply existing as a member of Skyclan was enough to make chickbloom feel more at ease - but the presence of cats like butterflytuft kept the coward's self-esteem on something approaching an even keel. her, Twitchbolt, his more timid classmates gave him hope for the future, in a weird way. She was nervous like him - similar in a lot of ways - but she was still a respected member of the clan. Chickbloom had little hope of sprouting into some brave warrior like Silversmoke, so it was nice to know it wasn't a requirement.

Of course, the ball of anxiety had enough awareness not to blurt out something like 'you're a crybaby like me, that makes me feel nice', so he kept his mouth shut, fashioning wavering features into a seldom-seen smile. Chickbloom's movements relax a little more, losing their stiffness as he unclasps a tick from the queen's fur.

"Kits scare me, s-sometimes" The whelp responded before mentally kicking himself over sentence's stupidity. "I mean, I l-like them...be-because they're - y'know - honest. I don't have to w-worry about what they're thinking. B-But that also means - it also means they'll tell me what - what they're thinking..." A self-deprecating huff left the Scottish Fold as he remembered the handful of times Skyclan's kits had brought him to the verge of tears with nothing but words. maybe that was what Butterflytuft meant by help? an egg-battered head nodded. "I'd - I'd like that, t-though...I think. Their games are - are f-fun to watch, so...p-participating might be more f-fun..."​