private BLOODY MARY — cottonpaw

[SNAKEHISS]

"Wolfsong does not have a cure for him." A grave tone, quieter in nature, utters from parted black jaws. Large ears angled, a dulled ember gaze is cast upon the teetering form of his son as he makes his way back toward his littermates in the nursery. Snakehiss had not made it far from the medicine den after consulting privately with Wolfsong, instead choosing to stay behind and think while Cricketkit wandered off to play, as most kits did.

The former deputy does not quite know what had compelled him to confide to Cottonpaw. She had only just been walking by, after all, though she had stopped for a few moments as if following Snakehiss' watchful stare. Snakehiss figures he would inform the medicine cat apprentice of what her mentor had diagnosed today — perpetually fidgeting eyes, a wobbly balance, constant tilting of the head. Not that she probably cared much — Snakehiss knows he wouldn't pay much mind to Cottonpaw's offspring should she ever bear any.

Snakehiss does not make eye contact with the blue-hued she-cat, as if he is ashamed. It is not as if he had wished this... this condition upon his child. His kin had never had such unfortunate traits, at least to his knowledge. So, what had gone wrong? "He will be like this forever, stumbling about. How will he survive apprenticehood?" The question might as well be rhetorical; if Wolfsong does not have an answer, then surely Cottonpaw doesn't either. The father is frustrated, knowing the difficult journey that laid ahead for Cricketkit. He wanted his kits to be model warriors one day, the fiercest that WindClan had ever known. How would Cricketkit even earn his warrior name if he could not even go a few paces without wobbling?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 𝙃𝘼𝙎 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏

• @cottonpaw

• 

• 
  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾
  snakehiss
  

  — he/him; moor runner of windclan
  — long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and multiple scars
  — father to violetkit, cricketkit, and privetkit (duskclan)
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw cannot breathe around Snakehiss - not for he takes her breath away, but for he suffocates her. If she were the flames that ravage the distance, he would have her snuffed out in moments. Perhaps he should think it a skill, to dull one of WindClan's diamonds just by looking in her direction. Perhaps he does. In the cluster of seconds, however - with each slowly dragging to minutes of conversation - he finds her with less discontent and more... what, hope? Does he wish of comfort from the she-cat he once isolated? Support?

This is Cottonpaw's home, the medicine den; avoiding Snakehiss on her way in wouldn't have been easy even if possible at all. Even if he were only speaking of himself, she would be unable to properly ignore his mad ramblings. Even then she would respond, perhaps curtly, and move on. But he speaks of one of his own, a unique soft spot for the both of them, and blue eyes follow the little tot as he walks back to the nursery, likely to be tackled by a littermate or groomed by a queen. The medicine cat feels odd of her former flame's litter. The timing says more than anything, and the fretful (yet mournful) thought still passes through that if she hadn't left him, if they were any older - that maybe Cricketkit would be hers. (Is it weird, then, to picture them as something less than teens stuck in a lost era, and something more like a loving duo, worried for their child?)

At some point while he spoke, she had sat down. She doesn't grow closer to him, doesn't caress his side with her tail like she would a friend. But she speaks with him - and that should be enough for now.

"If he even has a fragment of you in him," StarClan save him if he does, "then his stubbornness will provide him some support." Her slight towards the black furred tom is meant to be something of hope for the child lost to the nursery. He doesn't look towards her, but she finally brings her gaze to him, lips pressed into a thin line. "And he'll have you, right, Snakehiss?" There is an underlying tone to her words, of which she clarifies: "You will not leave him behind, because of this... difference?"

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