pafp candied comforts ღ cheering up

[whitedawn]

Spiderbloom was a molly that Whitepaw knew only a few things about. She knew that Spiderbloom was the mate of the late Juniperfrost, even if she never knew the tom personally. She also knew that Spiderbloom was expecting kits, and had recently moved into the briefly vacant nursery. Whitepaw also knew the queen as someone who... defended her against Greyhawk. So the young tunneler had nothing but good things she knew about the queen. However, the albino femme also noticed that dark-hued molly was rather... sad as of late. And since Whitepaw liked the older shecat, the ivory apprentice wanted to do something to cheer her up. With fresh moss, a small collection of feathers, and red blooms, the apprentice had slinked towards the nursery, peering in with pink hues. "Spiderbloom?" She called softly, setting the items down at the entrance as she lingered. "I brought some stuff to make your nest comfier." She murmured, tilting her head as she looked down at the assortment of items. She hoped it helps.

//pls wait for @Spiderbloom ​

[I'M BREATHING]​

 

[Spiderbloom]

Spiderbloom rarely left the nursery these days. There wasn't much she could do anyways, but the deadness she felt inside was too strong for her to will herself do even consider doing any kind of chores, even the simple ones. There she lay, back facing the entrance with a blank stare towards the back of the nursery. Her eyes were sore from the flow of tears she let fall from them daily, and the struggle to think of something happier gave her a headache. What was the point? Any bit of happiness she achieved would be ripped from her, as if she was damned by the universe to suffer.

A soft voice called for her and her ear flicked, recognizing it as Whitepaw's. She thought the newly made apprentice was very sweet, and she worried the harshness of her clanmates would snuff it out, turning her into someone like herself. It was a thought that made her sick. She shifted, righting herself as best she could so she could look at Whitepaw without breaking her neck. She looked at the materials she had brought and smiled softly. The red flowers would nice in or against her fur, and her nest WAS getting a little flat, so the soft moss and feathers were most welcome.

"Thank you, Whitepaw." She said, voice cracking from disuse. "You've got a good eye for flowers, those are wonderful." She added.

Somebody had to be a good mother to this kit, Starclan knows Greyhawk isn't up to the task.
​

 

[Badgermoon]

Spiderbloom had been on Badgermoon's mind, of late. The ferocious she-cat was someone he admired, for her accomplishment of stripping the Kittypet King of one of his lives if nothing else. The bombshell that she was pregnant and that the father of her kits had been slain had only further increased his respect for her, even if he regretted the circumstances which proved her strength. The broad-shouldered tomcat had thus been taking occasional detours over near the nursery, peering cautiously into the milky-scented gloom to try to spot the soon-to-be single mother. Today, though, it was the sight of an apprentice bringing a mouthful of material to the nursery which drew Badgermoon over, a look of mingled approval and sorrow on his face. Kind of her. he thought, though he could not help but feel a twist in his gut: queens should receive flowers and fresh moss from their mates, not a sympathetic Clanmate. This is all wrong. Juniperfrost should be here, damn him.

"Well done, Whitepaw...I think those flowers go nicely with Spiderbloom's eyes." mrowed the deputy as he took a seat, nodding his head thoughtfully. "Would you like us to clear out your old bedding before we add the new stuff?" ​

 

[LAMBCURL.]

Oh, sympathy. He has never had a mate, but he has loved, and still loves plenty. Shakenness is naturalness, like a prick in your side. Held breath when the one you expect is no longer there. Ringing melancholy, an iritating thing. He can only imagine – he himself has been fortunate enough to suffer no great loss. ( Though, this begs, what loss of his would truly be great? ) The cycle of living was a sacred thing. No... he would never allow himself to cry for long. Spiderbloom shed no such tears, but Whitepaw's gesture is all that possibly alerts him to something amiss.

Not like that was what it took for him to show kindness. He'd been blessed with a life here in WindClan, he'd like to bless others, just the same... Badgermoon's presence brings a fluttering of his chest, low hum whipping on the wind... drifting, his gaze, from the flowers, to something else. " Oh, lovely... " he murmurs agreement, and oh, he meant it. Wouldn't they go nicely with some fresh bedding? He recalls the straw laid out across the grounds of his birthing place, distantly wonders if he should make the trek...

〖 OOC 𓆩ꕥ𓆪 NOTES 〗

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  LAMBCURL: HE / HIM , CISGENDER MALE ; GAY & SINGLE, IN LOVE WITH EVERYBODY TBH ; TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN ; 41 MOONS
  
  tiny, curly - furred albino tom with teary pink eyes. ; dreamy – eyed and dreamy – minded, Lambcurl drags himself across the land with an ever-present smile and glassy bug eyes. Deeply honored to hold his position as a tunneler and whisperingly reverent with everything he does. Somewhat unnerving in ideals and the way he speaks, but he means well.
  — tentative voice claim: fox mulder
  

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