private but lately i’ve been doin’ better // orangestar

[butterflytuft]

// @Orangestar

The last several moons have gone by more quickly than the queen could have ever imagined. Before her eyes, she has watched her kittens grow from tiny, squirming bundles to bounding, leaping cats that will soon be just as big as her. Lean muscle begins to replace kitten fat, and she knows before long they’ll be made apprentices. Her heart aches when she thinks about that day, for more reasons than one. She doesn’t want them to grow. She wants to stay with them forever in the nursery, where it’s safe and warm and they can spend the days playing or snuggling. But time is a thief, and she knows she only has a moon or so left of these days.

She stands now in front of Orangestar’s den, ears back and eyes downcast. She has gone back and forth on this all morning, and several times she’s almost stepped into her den only to withdraw shyly. Finally, after what feels like forever, the quiet she-cat is able to raise her voice only slightly to call inside, “O-Orangestar? I was wondering if I could talk to you. If- if it’s a good time, of course! I can come back later!” She chirps softly, suddenly feeling flushed. ​

 

[Orangestar]

Orangestar rarely knows what's on Butterflytuft's mind. She doesn't often talk to the timid she-cat, and finds it difficult to pierce to the heart of her concerns amid her chattery worry. Today, she's acting even stranger than usual, as if scolded the moment she peers out of the nursery for a heartbeat too long. Like a territorial sparrow without all her flight feathers grown in, Orangestar thinks to herself as she witnesses one of the queen's retreats, halfway across camp herself. Just without the sharp beak.

The leader is, fortunately for Butterflytuft, in a fantastic mood. Her leg barely aches, and she's had great success in her hunting today. The plump pigeon she'd brought back to camp earlier has been eagerly devoured by the growing kittens in the nursery, and Orangestar had watched from a distance with bewildered amusement on her maw. StarClan forbid their appetites grow much further.

She's actually thinking of Butterflytuft when the queen approaches, a wavering voice reaching ginger ears. Orangestar pauses in her grooming, taking a moment to tidy her fur, and stands to beckon the she-cat into her den.

"Now is a good time. What's the matter?"​

 

[butterflytuft]

Now that she's been invited in, she doesn't know if this is actually the answer she wanted. The queen swallows hard and shuffles inside, her head and tail held in their typical low carriage. "Hi, Orangestar," She greets politely, offering the leader a kind smile as she blinks up at her through ebony lashes. She struggles to think how she wants to begin her question while she eases herself down onto her haunches. Her feathery tail is wrapped tightly around her as she searches the ground, uncertainty rolling off of her in waves.

"I don't mean to worry you, nothing is the matter!" She chirps, half-lying as she smiles at the older she-cat. "But, um...I wanted to talk to you about something." Her chin tips back towards the ground as her forepaws shuffle against one another. "My kits will be apprenticed soon. I know that means I should return to my warrior duties. But I was never any good at that stuff...hunting, and being brave, and defending borders...I just can't do it." Her ears droop and she stares back up at her leader, guilty tears swimming in her eyes. "I was thinking...what if I could stay in the nursery? Have more kits...help the other queens, take care of their kits. I really love it in there, Orangestar." Her heart pounds as she waits to see her reaction. Will she be angry with her for failing to do her duties? For being a coward?​

 

[Orangestar]

"... Are you sure?"

It's all Orangestar can muster for a few moments, genuine in her question despite the explanation Butterflytuft has offered. Being stuck in the nursery sounded like a special kind of punishment, akin to pulling ticks from an elder's pelt for eternity. All the wailing had nearly driven Orangestar mad after four moons; Butterflytuft had dealt with it for six and still wanted more? Orangestar shakes her head in wonder. She must have gone fluff-brained in that time; there's really no other explanation for it.

Yet, despite that ... it's not entirely a bad idea. Her own mother had done something similar, back in the days of the Pine Colony: an extra set of paws to herd rambunctious kits and an unaffected presence to help the nursing queens feel less isolated. Within the structure of a Clan, however, that had changed somewhat. SkyClan certainly needed a kitsitter now, with Heronstep's brood reaching the notorious stage of being difficult to contain.

"This will be a full time job, Butterflytuft." Orangestar warns, thoughtful. "No patrols, no hunting, no leaving camp without an escort, always surrounded by kits ..." Maybe reminding her of the warrior life she's about to lose would bring the tortoiseshell to her senses. Her tail thumps against the ground. A lot of the younger molly's reasoning is lost amid Orangestar's confusion. "You'll eat with the warriors, too, unless of course you nurse or rear another litter."​

 

[butterflytuft]

She can see the confusion written clearly across Orangestar’s face. She can understand that…most queens can’t wait to leave the nursery to return to their regular duties. Butterflytuft finds herself dreading it. “I’m sure,” She mews back sincerely, a nod accompanying her words. She leans forward a bit, head ducking and ears lowering. The leader speaks of what she’s choosing as if it’s a self-imposed punishment, but it’s anything but to the tortoiseshell.

She smiles softly, eyes dancing with elation at the very thought. “That’s what I want, Orangestar. I- I believe I can serve SkyClan better in the nursery than I ever could as a warrior. I want to have more kits. I want to take care of kits who need me…” She trails off and looks down bashfully, a white-spotted paw scuffing against the ground. Though her leader seems shocked, she thinks it sounds like she’s leaning to allow her to do this. Please, please, please. ​