private CAREEN SOUTHWARD // thriftfeather

[cottonsprig]

Of the few times she's visited the nursery, he's here every moment. Cottonsprig didn't understand it at first, why the enemy was so closely laced with her and her sister's kittens (under the guise they were all one litter,) however her short conversation with Vulturepaw shed... some light on the subject. Not enough, admittedly. Thriftfeather played the good guy a few moons ago and had several voices vouching for him. She knows that if she were in camp that day that she, too, would be on her sister's side and thus, the side of Thriftfeather.

But there is something so gut churning about a tom who ran off with her mother's lackeys, unknowingly raising her kittens. Maybe he does know, and he keeps the charade going for Bluefrost's sake. Would that change her opinion of the tom? What is her opinion to begin with? She forgave Juncoclaw, after all, and though she doesn't trust Rumblerain, they seem to have an understanding whenever they encounter one another. Would she afford that same energy to the yellow prisoner?

The scent in the nursery upsets her stomach, but she decides that it is instead her anxiety to confront Thriftfeather that makes her sick. What would she even say to him, when she sees him? What would her sister have told him if anything at all? Her mind whirs but before she realizes it, she's standing before him - a few paces of space between them, but distinctly visiting him, and not her sister.

"..." she's silent and unsure. He's certainly been grilled ten times over already, reminded of his potential fate within the gorse walls of their camp. He hasn't run yet, so fear isn't something to press into him. Cottonsprig lets her gaze fall to the kittens nearby, then back to him, "... Asterkit looks like you. A little bit," she offers, seating herself. "The big tabby patches sort of give it away."

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc // @Thriftfeather

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[Thriftfeather]

Cottonsprig is immediately noticed but isn't given Thriftfeather's attention. Not at first, anyway—not until Thriftfeather's yellow-green eyes flick idly back up only to find that Cottonsprig has found her way to him rather than Bluefrost. Concern crawls up his throat that Cottonsprig has news for him or that she has finally decided that whatever questions she has are due for answers. The silence lingers for too long; Thriftfeather doesn't break it.

The conversation that Cottonsprig starts feels stilted to Thriftfeather's nervous ears, but he clings to it regardless.

"A little bit?" Thriftfeather echoes, sounding amused. He can find his own familiar pelt—or a shade near to himself—in all but Foalkit and Comfreykit. At their mention, he cannot help but glance towards the litter—confirming once again that they are near, despite the fact that they are too young to effectively wander farther than the length of a nest.

"Sootkit—she has the same ears as me. As my mother did, too," Sharing such a detail doesn't ache as it usually does, it doesn't need to fight its way out of his mouth; Thriftfeather smiles as he watches the litter and continues the expression when his attention returns to Cottonsprig. Already he has forgotten the awkwardness that has come before, "And I think—I know it's too early to tell, but I think Rimekit will have my size."

Perhaps its something akin to Bluefrost insisting that all of their kits eyes will be green once they have aged beyond the kitten-blue, but Thriftfeather cannot shake the notion. Like this, speculating on a future Thriftfeather can only suspect, a warmth comes over Thriftfeather. He cannot forget what he is here for, not when he feels like this. It is an effort to not once again look back to them—to not once again be overwhelmed by the ways they have already grown from the mindlessly squirming newborns Thriftfeather had previously known.

"But...yes, I think Asterkit looks the most like me. I see a lot of Bluefrost in all of them, but Comfreykit looks just like her." Fondness seeps into his voice—it feels nice to speak of the litter without feeling as though he needs to justify their place here and to justify his relation to them, "I've seen them trying stand and—I've never been around kits like this before, but I think that means they'll be walking soon."​

DUSKCLAN DEPUTY ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 19 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[cottonsprig]

He speaks openly. Cottonsprig doesn't cling to the ounce of apprehension he gifts her at first - after all, she is of the council, and whilst her power is of no comparison to Scorchstreak nor Sunstar, her word could very well be law She could spin tales of the stars damning the golden tom's existence. Yet with this acknowledged, she has no want to. Instead she leans into herself, her tail curling around her paws as he continues to pick the details out of the litter.

Sootkit, he mentions first. His mother (Ghostwail?) is mentioned with fondness in direct relation to the child, and though Cottonsprig cannot discern the importance, she doesn't worry to. Thriftfeather continues on, and though he is no different in his delivery, she tenses in receiving his musing. Claws would've been better used dragged down her countenance, ripping her heart from her chest. She doesn't look a thing like you, she doesn't say, forcing her limbs to relax once more.

"A moor runner, then?" she tries to shift the conversation slightly. She started it, so she cannot fault the tom for continuing it. "Bluefrost must be upset. Surely one of the other kittens will be a tunneller... surely, she'll mentor one, too." Just like Sootstar had with her. It goes unsaid, but she wonders if the tom remembers - if the tom knows her sister's dreams, and if such is one of them.

Nonetheless, he returns to Asterkit, (notes that Comfreykit looks like Bluefrost. Cottonsprig nods, clicking her fangs together for a moment before settling once more.) He seems excited to see them grow, and despite her tide-like emotions, she cannot help but smile as he continues. "Yeah... most kittens start crawling around shortly after their first full moon. Talking, too - by the time they're two, they'll be talking your ears off, Thriftfeather..." Will you be here to see it?

The thought is sudden, and as her gaze falls to her sister, to the kittens, she silently hopes that he is not forced to leave. Even if she dislikes the situation, it's one she's orchestrated. It's her fault, in a way. She cannot stand the idea of taking away parenthood from another.

"Would... you want to mentor one, Thriftfeather?" He wouldn't be able to, she doesn't think. Trust is hard earned, especially with his circumstance. Yet all the same, she posits the question as if they are no different. As if he is just a dutiful father, excited to gain a protégé in his own lineage.

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc //

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[Thriftfeather]

It is Thriftfeather's immediate instinct to want to deny that Bluefrost would ever be upset about something as inherent to the kits as their sizes. His mouth parts in a defense that never comes; Thriftfeather cannot shake the following thought that Bluefrost takes pride in being a tunneler, that she would want her kits to follow in her pawsteps. She makes expectations in the same way that Thriftfeather wonders.

"It isn't likely that they'll all be moor runners," Thriftfeather settles on, "She'll get—Bluefrost will have her pick of an apprentice."

It isn't until their sixth moon that they will be made into apprentices—until how much they've grown will be relevant to their futures. Thriftfeather still has some disbelief about the notion. To make a kit into an apprentice at the third moon was simply what WindClan had done, and the WindClan in Thriftfeather's mind wouldn't change to allow for something as paltry in the grand scheme of life as an extended kithood. His kits will have time to not worry about such things.

Thriftfeather's ears twitch with equal parts interest and stress at the mention of the kits imminent speech. In so many ways, Thriftfeather still feels as though they are strangers to him. He doesn't know what they might say to him or to each other; he wants to know, as much as he fears the negative opinions they'll make about him once they are old enough to think about more than milk and warmth.

He tries to recall the kind of kit he was before WindClan and although he lacks the firm memories to know the truth for certain, he feels with a shapeless conviction that he was the sort to chatter aimlessly, to push the limits of what was allowed if he thought he could, to get lost in games of pretend. What was it that he had said at the time, exactly? And what had his mother said to him?

Any attempt to recollect such things instead brings Thriftfeather the wavering memory of Periwinklebreeze offering him a pigeon feather, but the words from that memory have faded with time enough that only the dizzying shift from distrust to excitement remains.

"I don't know how to talk to kits," The admission leaves Thriftfeather sheepishly. He amends, "I mean—I talk to them right now, sometimes, but that's just... It'll be different when they can say something back."

Cottonsprig's next question is expected. Thriftfeather sits up and stops himself before habit can stretch the ache out of his shoulders.

"Do you ever see me being a mentor?" A now-familiar guilt eases over Thriftfeather—does Gravelpaw feel as betrayed as Thriftfeather had when Gravelsnap had left him? He had been a warrior at the time, a luxury that Gravelpaw was denied, "Did I—have I ever told you that DuskClan gave me an apprentice?" Thriftfeather asks, already knowing the answer, already knowing this was never meant to be anything but a confession, "I left her to come here but I wasn't—I could have been a better mentor. There are paws more—" dependable, Thriftfeather thinks, "—capable than my own."​

DUSKCLAN DEPUTY ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 19 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[cottonsprig]

Should Thriftfeather have defended his partner, Cottonsprig would've been further reminded of his small litter. For her, there were five of them - with two elder siblings to boot. Teasing and the like are commonplace, especially with them each having venom lacing their tongues (some to a worse degree than others...) Perhaps it's for the better that he leans, instead, into the obvious. The medicine cat tries to offer only a nod, furthering her effort to keep this encounter as civil as possible. Should Bluefrost have her way, she'd have any one of these kittens beneath her paw.

It's a long moment before he admits what she thinks every parent struggles with. Communicating with a child isn't easy - even she, as young as she is but experienced around the nursery regardless - stumbles sometimes in conversation. Kittens will say the wildest things sometimes... "It will be easier than you think," she promises smoothly. "Once they start... stringing words together, and having meaning behind them... it'll be like talking to any other cat. They'll have more questions than normal, or say something wrong a few times but... it's nothing to fear, Thriftfeather."

Another blossom of jealousy, as he wonders if he'll ever have conversations with his kits - she wonders if she'll ever have the chance to talk to them as their mother.

No, she says in silence. She no longer has the privilege, at least not in their youth, not in her position.

He straightens his posture when she speaks finally. It takes him a moment, but he takes his turn with a fragile tone of voice. An inquiry, one that need not be answered so readily. He continues with almost an admission of guilt - of all that he's left behind in DuskClan to be here, instead, with his kits. Were you teaching them right? She wants to ask, but she can hear the accusatory tone in her voice already. Are they a lost cause if they're being raised in DuskClan? Are you? She thinks of her many encounters with Rumblerain, how passive and peaceful they remain to be. Her tail twitches.

"That didn't answer my question," she says, perhaps a little more tersely than intended. "If you were given the chance to mentor one of your own blood... would you?" What would you do if you learned differently after the fact? She sees his fatherly protection ringing in his stiff muscles, in his yellow-green eyes. She detests that he is caged in having what she wants, but again, he is unknowingly providing what she cannot. Her tail twitches as she leans away from him. "If I had not had my apprentice chosen for me... maybe I would've asked for Asterkit, or Foalkit even. Who knows what realm we'd live in if..." a pause, and she shakes her head and quietly says, "Never mind."

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc //
• [/SIZE][/FONT]
  

  ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 
  
  

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[Thriftfeather]

Although Thriftfeather doesn't doubt Cottonsprig's reassurance that there isn't anything to fear in this, he doesn't feel soothed. There is no amount of information he can gather that will take away the simple fact that this is an entirely new experience to him and no amount of careful planning that will make himself into anything but a potential failure point. Thriftfeather smiles regardless, nods as if Cottonsprig's words were balm enough for him.

"I'm sure you're right," His voice comes pleasant.

That didn't answer my question, Cottonsprig says and Thriftfeather's mouth thins.

It is a simple thing to want and yet Thriftfeather is hesitant to even imagine the possibility. Perhaps if he is allowed to stay, if he is trusted with an apprentice, if he could guarantee his own capabilities—perhaps if it wasn't buried in countless ifs, Thriftfeather could hope for more than this. But want isn't tethered to reality: Cottonsprig isn't asking Thriftfeather to speculate on what could be. She's asking him to say plainly what he wants as if he has never known disappointment.

There is something soft in Cottonsprig's what if, something that hurts. She dismisses the thought before it can come to completion, and despite his wondering, Thriftfeather doesn't push for more.

"If I could, I would," Thriftfeather amends before he can regret it. There is something painful in the admittance—his eyes flick to the litter, back to Cottonsprig, "But it isn't... I don't think what I want is—is relevant in what will be."​

DUSKCLAN DEPUTY ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 19 MOONS ✦ TAGS​