private CARRY ME HOME // weasel


The perfume of herbs was strong in the medicine cats den, as one would expect... Though their scents were far from pleasant, the mixture of bitterness, sweetness, tanginess and more all mixed into one and stung her nose. The headaches she got from spending so much time in here were almost worse than her two deep-cut wounds she was healing from... she swears its almost no exaggeration.

Aside from taking in the pungent scents of plants, Sootstar sleeps. There isn't much else to do while you're recovering, and honestly? She can't complain. She was tired and with her high rankings defending her leadership, she didn't have to worry about her throne. The blue she-cat could rest her tired eyes in peace for the most part...

She opens her eyes into slits at the sound of approaching paw-steps, they sounded heavier than Honeytwists.
Weaselclaw. Her gaze lands on the brown tabby and she finds herself pleasantly surprised. Sootstar expects him to be on business though... maybe a report on the findings of a patrol? She can't say she expects him to be here to provide herself company.

"What's the news?" She inquires expectantly, craning her neck upwards from where she laid.


Weaselclaw had not doubted Sootstar's claim to have nine lives, but it's hard to believe something so abstract on your own. He's had no basis of faith before he'd come to WindClan -- his mother had been a barn cat, and their religion consisted of fat mice, hay, and horses. He'd never thought there might be something more to the world he lived in, more than the earth he walked on.

Not until he'd met Sootstar.

Even their first encounter, trading light-hearted insults and the queen quite pregnant with Owlpaw and Shrikepaw still... Weaselclaw had felt something. A shift in his world view. It had plenty to do with the idea of living in a colony, following a set of laws and maintaining balance --

But it had so much more to do with her, and he is a fool to not have realized it until she lie dead between his paws.

The feeling of desperation he'd used to fuel his attack on the Twoleg had been raw and hot. It had clouded any semblance of judgment. His leader had died at the creature's feet, but worse -- the she-cat he loved had been killed.

What a thing to admit.

He feels nothing but gratitude for Honeytwist, despite her soft kittypet nature, for healing Sootstar -- and he feels nothing but gratitude for StarClan for giving her eight chances to come back.

She looks up at him as he comes to visit, eyes clouded with sleep. She asks him what the news has been, and he fights the adoration he has for her, that worms within his white chest. Even recovering from death, Sootstar is looking out for WindClan.

"Nothing to report. Duskfire is doing well. Hyacinthbreath, too. Everyone is just... happy you're back." He doesn't stop to consider that not everyone is happy she's returned, but... He clears his throat and sits, tail wrapped about white-capped paws. "I'm not here about that, though. I came to see you."

Even at this point, where he's accepted to himself that he's in love with her, he cannot let the sentence linger in the air too long. Embarrassed, hasty, he continues, "To... to see how you're doing. If you're almost ready to... to lead again."



The small cat smiles, pleased at the positive reports. Weaselclaw didn't speak of anything bad, and she knew he'd inform her if there was anything important she needed to know about. WindClan was doing just fine... no chaos had ensured. It was a relief.

Everyone is just... happy you're back, even Sootstar lets out a wheeze to that. Oh, she was no fool! The blue smoke was well aware she could be or- was, an ass. Even though she could self-admit, she felt little sympathy. A leader needed to be stern, she needed to assert her dominance and lay down her laws. If she didn't this clan would be in shambles. "You know as well as I do that's a lie." she grins, "No good leader whose ever lived has been loved by everyone. Cats disliking me and wishing I was dead does not scare me." further she'd confess with a shrug.

"See me? An honor." More she jests, it's how she got by with these sorts of things she supposed... how she hid the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. Some of the butterflies land when he hastily corrects he moreso meant he wanted to know how she was doing, to see if she was almost ready to lead again.

"I'm always ready." Confidently she informs, "It's my clan-mates who are not. The moment I rise from my nest in this den I'll have cats treating me like a kit who tripped over a rock. I don't wish to be coddled..." She sticks out her tongue, "so to answer your question... a few days... Then I'll be good again."


The tabby smirks at Sootstar's response to his assertion that everyone is happy she's back. One of the things he admires about the blue smoke is that she holds no delusions about her demeanor. "Cats disliking me and wishing I was dead does not scare me." "Nor should it. Anyone with opinions like that in WindClan has no place here." He flicks the white tip of his tail dismissively.

A few days, she says. Hope dances in his eyes. "Honeytwist has done good work, then. Or StarClan. Whichever you please." He smirks. He knows the leader and the medicine cat are not on good terms, but he's grateful for her attentive work. "But don't rush it. Don't wanna hurt yourself again too soon."

No more harebrained chases through the farm, he thinks to himself. WindClan cats have prey they can find without Twoleg interference.

"I need you," he says, but realizes his folly immediately. "I mean, we--we--WindClan needs you." Had he not been covered by striped fur, his flesh would be the color of a particularly enflamed sunset. He inwardly curses himself for being such a fool.

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Honeytwist or StarClan... who did she have to thank for her miracle of a recovery? Probably both... especially considering if not for their medicine cat her wounds would've grown infected, she'd be sick with a fever by now. "Honeytwist isn't the one who gave me nine lives." The blue coated she-cat dismisses swiftly with a wave of her paws, "She's dressed my wounds though. Maybe didn't save my life, but probably saved me from infection." Some credit at least...

I need you, the butterflies instantly return, and she pivots her head to stare at him with wide emerald eyes. I mean, we- we- WindClan needs you.
This tom... his back and forth is getting on her nerves, she lashes her tail, thumping it against the dens floor. Weaselclaw was stupid, yet she liked that about him anyways.

"Take me out into the moors for dinner." Sootstar refused to be the first to full on confess, but this was her way of testing the waters in a not so subtle way. Was Weaselclaw just that much of a hare-brain with his words? Or did he have something in his heart for her? If he did, this dinner date could prove if he was worth her time. "And for the record, my favorite prey is frog." No she was not ShadowClan, yet she was born and raised within the marshes. Some of that land had rubbed off on her...

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He feels as though he's going to catch aflame standing so close to Sootstar in Honeytwist's den. It's warm in here, too warm, and maybe the herb scents are getting to his head because he almost feels woozy. Weaselclaw stares with his jaw parted as Sootstar demands he take her for a meal on the moors. Just the two of them.

He shakes his head to clear the stupidly stunned expression from his face. She must have figured out that he's caught feelings for her, a hard-won and slow-coming prize but one he intends to keep. Blue eyes meet fiery green for a moment, and he nods and breaks into a smile.

"Frog," he teases, pretending to roll his eyes. "I could get you a fat rabbit or a couple of mice, but you want a slimy frog. Reminds me of the first time I met you." The two of them shadowed by pines, herself not StarClan-blessed and heavily pregnant with Owlpaw and Shrikepaw.

With feeling, he bows his head to her. Had he felt it then, that pull towards her as though she held invisible strings attached to his spirit? Had he known, deep down, that he would later watch her die a mouse length away from him, that she would stumble into camp covered in blood and dust and his heart would leap from his mouth?

"If you're up for it, we'll go at moonrise." He won't make her run, won't go far from her at all. He'll settle her somewhere comfortable and beautiful where she can gaze at Silverpelt, and he'll bring her mouthfuls of frogs, as many as she can stand to eat.

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She smirks in amusement, "Unfortunately some of the swamp sticks with me." As much as she hated that place, she did love her frogs. The blue molly liked their texture, wasn't exactly the taste that sold it to her. "Perhaps while we're dining you can try one if you've never been inclined to before. You may be shocked..." There's a playful glimmer in her eye.

The tabby head bows to her, and in that moment she feels it too. The pull, the excitement, she's felt it for awhile now... but finally the spark was beginning to ignite. Sootstar cared for this tom, his company never ceased to quicken her heart and make the day feel brighter. When she was with him she felt happy, it was about time they finally gave a shot at what they both wanted.

"Okay," Agrees the laying she-cat with a nod, "moonrise. I'll wait for you by the gorse tunnel when its time."