private COULD YOU FATHOM THE WORLD AT ALL \ sneezeduck

Today is a little brighter, she thinks. The sun is high, the skies clear; there is frost on the fronds defending their camp, but it glistens, half-melted, as @sneezeduck and Marbleleaf make their way into the mire. The two of them embark in silence, initially; she had looked knowingly into his eyes upon her return from the Moonstone, a promise waiting to be kept. "Maybe the sun being out will make the marigold easier to spot," she mews, giving her companion a smile. "You'll be looking for these round flowers, almost amber-colored. They're hard to miss. And they smell almost sweet... maybe you remember, from when you had your wounds treated?"

Her mouth waters, as if to bring to mind the taste of a marigold poultice. She glances at the warrior beside her, at the clarity of his gaze. It's marigold-colored, she thinks. Maybe that's a sign. A good one. She looks a little too long for it to be casual; when Marbleleaf tears her gaze away, it is with relief. "There! Look!"

She springs forward, her tail twirling happily behind her. A single stalk rears its golden crown, proud and untouched by the withering frost. "Where there's one, there's got to be more," she mews, turning back toward Sneezeduck with the herb between her forepaws. "Let me know if you spot any." She flicks her eyes back toward the herb, feeling warm under her pale tawny fur. It's the sun. I'm not used to feeling it like this anymore.

… ❞
 
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At least, it seems the pair are holding up on their promises. There's a moment of peace that they'll be spending together, a moment he thought had to be grasped for nowadays. And, as if fate was in favor of them, the weather isn't too bad for once. Sneezeduck's nose still chills, but he feels rather pleasant in comparison to their colder days.

"I miss the birdsong," the tabby says at some point, breaking through their silence. It was nice to be quiet in the company of someone, in a way that didn't feel awkward and forced, like it did with some of his other Clanmates. He still can't help but talk, though, even if their silence is comfortable. "Maybe.. maybe newleaf will come early, like leaf-bare did." Then they could stop worrying and scrambling. Then they could spend more time enjoying the cool weather and taking long walks, instead of.. digging for herbs amongst the rot and sitting at each other's nest-side as they trade spots in the medicine den.

It seems Marbleleaf is finding comfort in the warmth much like himself. Sneezeduck meets their smile with one of his own as they speak. "I remember," he chirps back, repeating her words in his head. Round, amber, sweet. How could he forget, when they so gently explained each herb they wove into his fur and nest?

Suddenly, he's all too aware of their eye contact, like he had startled out of a daze. Has he been.. staring? Sneezeduck feels warmth in his ears and flicks them, as if to ward it away. Anyone could remember.

After mentally brushing off the embarrassment, he follows Marbleleaf's gaze and trots after her, lowering his head to examine the pristine stalk of marigold she found. "Looks healthy," he comments, pleased. It stands out against the murky neutrals of the wintery bog, like a star against the night sky. Sneezeduck raises his head at her command, scanning their surroundings. Round. Amber. Sweet. Sticks out like a sore paw.

And then, a couple tail-lengths away, he sees it - gentle buds of gold, standing tall over soft green stalks. "Found some!" he exclaims cheerfully, leaning in close with a twitching nose as his plumed tail rises proudly behind him. Before harvesting them, Sneezeduck pauses and takes in the flowers' scent, fondly reminded once more of their talks in the medicine den. If his own eyes are akin to the petals, perhaps its' leaves are like hers, a cozy green full of life and promise.

Sneezeduck snips the stems with careful ease, then returns to Marbleleaf with a toothy smile, placing his two stalks of marigold next to hers. Again, he flicks his gaze around for any others, but.. "..How many of these usually grow together?" the warrior muses, feeling a twinge of disappointment that this is all luck had to offer them. Maybe it's good enough.. he looks back at Marbleleaf, examining her expression for a similar disappointment, or triumph in its place. "We did alright.. right?"

  • ooc: text
  • sneezepaw-transparent.png
    ✶ sneezeduck. warrior of shadowclan. ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆。𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
    ㅤamab cis male, he/him | undiscovered sexuality, single.
    ㅤ14 moons old | ages every 2nd. created 2/5/2024
    ㅤa young warrior, inexperienced in most things. | mentored by sharpshadow
    ㅤLH chocolate tabby (carrying cinnamon, dilute)
    ㅤunknown xx duckshimmer | brother to singeglare and swallowflutter
    ㅤclose with marbleleaf
    ㅤwritten by ixora, ic opinions | tags
 
Sneezeduck seems to be enjoying the pale, weak rays of leafbare sun as much as she is; he tells her he misses the birdsong that had encircled their mire in greenleaf. "Maybe newleaf will come early, like leafbare did." Marbleleaf purrs at the idea of new buds shooting up through the melting snow, of prey returning to their withered forest. "Maybe," she agrees. "But wishful thinking catches no prey." Her eyes twinkle as she regards him for a teasing moment. "Or marigold, in our case."

He tells her he remembers the look and taste of marigold from when they'd bent over his sickbed, working hard to mend the wounds the battle with ThunderClan had left in his flesh. There's a heartbeat — just a little too long — where their eyes do not, cannot part, and Marbleleaf is hot under her fur.

She works carefully to nip the strand of marigold she'd found. It isn't much, but it's one less wound that will go infected, and that means more than any cat could know. The life of a warrior is filled with unseen dangers; even a mild scratch could turn sour and become deadly before a warrior would even know what was happening.

"Found some!" Sneezeduck's tail waves happily behind him. Marbleleaf joins him, a purr unfurling from her chest as he lowers his muzzle to the stalks. "Well done. We'll make a medicine cat out of you yet," she mews, throwing him a lopsided grin.

He seems dissatisfied, though. "How many of these usually grow together?" Marbleleaf touches her muzzle to his dark tabby flank — it's meant to be a brief gesture of reassurance, but she finds herself startled at the softness of his fur, at the scent that curls into her nose like woodsmoke. She tears herself away, embarrassed and hoping it doesn't show. "Don't worry. Starlingheart told me marigold is hard to find in leafbare." She pauses, eyes lowering toward their yellow-flowered prizes. "I think most herbs are. This is pretty good, and I wouldn't have found all of it without your help." She blinks at him. "So, thanks."

She remembers the sanctity of the medicine cat den, of strained murmurs and the faint scent of blood and comfrey. Of the mouse he'd brought her, the promise. "I can teach you how to fight," he'd mewed, and Marbleleaf tenses now. "What's the first thing you learned about fighting?" Marbleleaf fixes him with a determined green-eyed look. "What did Sharpshadow show you first?"

… ❞
 
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