private Domestic life was never quite my style ❁ mother? ❁ FLORABREEZE

MAGNOLIA

autumn sunlight
Aug 20, 2024
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𑁍 Magnolia wanders through life with no grasp of how many rotations of the moon she is, whether she'd been born when the sun is warmest or the forest blanketed with snow. She's tried to remember, steal back fragments of memories to recall where she came from and when, but it is no use- each time she attempts to grasp ahold of lingering scents it only seems more distant; the warmth of another embracing her becomes colder as each moon passes. After escaping from the cursed home she shared with Stewie, Magnolia has all but convinced herself that her parentage means naught and maybe Stewie spoke the truth: her mother was a miserable woman who casted Magnolia aside, forcing the Twolegs to intervene.

She believes this still, even with the shocking revelation she has made within this past moon. Maybe Magnolia had not been sent far, far away as Stewie claimed, the truth could be her vile mother is beneath her nose. Since returning to the sprawling suburbs, Magnolia's had a few run ins with the strange cats in the forest, some of which return to the comfort of the Twolegplace dens at night. She's tried to keep her distance but... it gets lonely, remaining sequestered way beneath sedentary monsters or atop fences. Mint... a sickening scent. The large molly reeked of it, the one who had been with those strangers beside the Thunderpath. The scent triggered fragments of half-memories to reappear.

Brilliantly citrine eyes, intensified by a mask of white. Mint, mixed with unique scent of a Twoleg household she's not smelled since- the only hints of who her mother may be.

"Coward!" A shrill growl explodes from above as Magnolia dives from a low rooftop, landing squarely in front of the black Maine Coon she ran into days prior. Her amber eyes are wild with fury, anger directed towards false tales of a mother who hated her daughter. The blue molly's breath hitches as she juts her chin upwards, fixing her mother with a knife-like glare. "Do you know who I am?" With the way the she-cat reacts, Magnolia is sure she does. Her threadbare ears lower close to her head and her face darkens as her chest heaves, the gravity of this confrontation threatens Magnolia's tough exterior to shatter as she barely withholds a flurry of sobs.

// @Florabreeze
 
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Twolegplace always carried a bitter-sweet tinge to it, first and foremost this was her home. She had grown here long before she spent time in the forest and this will always shape her. The bitter aspect comes from those experiences she had while growing here. Growing pains, one might call it, she isn't so sure that's the most apt way to put it. Did growing pains normally include being ripped from her own home as a small child and then in a cruel twist of fate have her own small child ripped from hers?

Her path diverts ever since that day she ran into Blazingheart near the thunderpath. More importantly ever since she saw that echo of the past alongside the incident near the thunderpath. She isn't so sure what calls her to pass by that way, the hope of seeing that strangers face again? The hope of not seeing her succumb to a monster? It's a long way back to her Twoleg's nest, but she instinctually found it helped her sleep at night when she went by this route.

She cuts by neighbourhoods by passing though tight squeezes of alleys, paws grazing against the pavement as she wanders down a stretch of Twoleg nests. Except her path is cut off today, today she doesn't get to go back to her nest and dream of a quiet wailing kit. Today the ghosts of the past turn to volatile banshees, a revenant of a she-cat cuts her down. Wailing in the form of a growl, she's deemed a coward and it is a judgment that she has to concede to.

The blue cat isn't tall enough to reach eye level yet her intimidation makes Florabreeze feel like the smaller of the pair in comparison. Hackles rise as she takes a step back, plumy tail slicing the air behind her as felt natural in a confrontation such as this. However, her senses kick in and practicality takes hold. If this is who she thinks it is then this conversation would not benefit from her defensive nature.

“Magnolia?” a name she never thought she'd associate with a face, much less one older. No kitten fluff to be seen, ears tattered and face scared. If this really was her then age had not been kind, she was as beautiful as the last day she saw her child but clearly had been hardned by life. “Of course I know who you are- well I hope I do at least?” And those words ring true, hope, it's a funny thing. Something she had recently thought was foolish to cling to all these moons.

“Did your…” her words trail off, tongue heavy in her maw. “Twolegs, did your Twolegs leave you?” They had came in and stolen her from her just to discard her daughter at the first chance? Iritation sparks in her, not aimed at her daughter but at the thought of her twolegs- her captors. She had heard too many stories from those joining SkyClan, heard of the horrible things that can happen behind those twoleg nests. The thought of it happening to her daughter, she shakes her head at the thought. Florabreeze's own ears pinning against her head as she fought to be able to look at Magnolia. “I'm glad you're here” Alive, relatively safe- good? she wasn't sure what to attribute instead of here but she hoped that would suffice, the tension in the air told her it wouldn't.

Despite it all, beyond the sombre smile, the raised fur and the crackle of rising emotions in the eye there was a gleam of pride in her eyes. Pride that her kit, if this was her, had not only endured what cruel fates shaped her to be who she is today. She had also seemed to learn to stand on her own, to advocate for herself when others hadn't. No matter what happened in this meeting that pride wouldn't wash away.


  • apologies for an absolute ESSAY of a reply, my muse ran away with this one
  • FLORABREEZE 𖧧 She/her, Daylight Warrior of SkyClan, 36 moons (ages on the 12th)
    A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can.
    Mentored by Sorrelsong /Mentoring Jellypaw & Sfogliatella
    “Speech”, thoughts, attacking
    Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}
 
Magnolia? As her name is spoken a ringing begins, quiet at first but more deafening the more her mother speaks, the truth of their relationship confirmed. She knew, she knew before this moment but the sound of her name coming from a stranger's mouth knocks the breath from her. After their brief face-to-face, Magnolia had consulted a path of ants: if the path diverted away from an obstacle she placed in front of their soldiers, it was her mother... if they crawled over the stick, it was not; they took the long route, confirmation that it was.

The sting of it doesn't burn any less. Magnolia does not even know her own mother's name... suddenly this too angers Magnolia, claws unsheathing. She braces her claws into the ground, an effort to ground herself as it all becomes too real. The ringing continues in her ears as anger turns her blood hot. "No, mother...," Magnolia sneers, her lips quivering. "I left those damn Twolegs..." Her body trembles with emotion, a virulent mixture of anger, sorrow and the grief she feels for a childhood she never had.

She strides forward, closer and closer to the black tabby before coming to a standstill. The blue molly pauses so close the sickly nostalgic scent of mint invades her senses once again, as it had just days ago. "Are you?" She juts her chin upwards, her quivering lips drawing upwards threateningly. "Are you glad to see me?"

From her close distance Magnolia can now see the dispirited smile of her mother, a strange gleam within her eyes. What is she smiling for? "Don't look at me like that," Magnolia leans forward, snapping the words a hairsbreadth from the other's muzzle, her teeth closing with a clacking sound. She whips her head around, sauntering away a few tail lengths- she mustn't be so close, she's afraid she may do something she will regret. Less aggressively than before as she turns back around to face her mother she growls lowly, "In fact, don't look at me at all while you tell me why you did it... why'd you abandon me? Why'd you stop giving a shit about me?"
 

The surprise is evident in her expression, Florabreeze had spent so much of her time dedicated to learning how to present an ideal version of herself to others. She considered it a hobby at this point, being the one to smile for others while hiding any other feelings, she doesn’t really know how to do that in the face of her daughter. In the confrontation of her own failures not only as a mother but as a cat, clearly she had lost hope too soon despite her insistence that she hadn’t. “You left them? Were they hurting you?” Her heart pounds once more, thrumming a steady rhythm with a cold sweat washing over her. The lead warrior- the kittypet? the failed mothers stomach churned with anxiety, threatening to make her grow ill at the thought of harm coming to her. Clearly by her damaged ears and facial scar that Magnolia had been harmed, she is once again reminded of the horror stories told by those less fortunate than herself within Twoleg nests.

Her own feelings should be pushed aside right now, when her daughter stands in front of her trembling like she had been left out in the rain. Flora is a selfish creature but not one vain enough to disregard her child when she shakes- if she has the right to call her that anymore. “I am glad to see you” she presses onwards, nostalgia washing over in maternal waves. Not understanding just what turmoil the blue she-cat is going through. Not understanding that it could be wholly directed at her, not until she leans forward and snaps at her. The sound of teeth clacking is sharp yet it doesn’t cut as deep as her words. Her body recoils on instinct, as if a predator had lunged at her and it takes a moment for the fear to dissipate, for the instincts of a warrior to subside. This was no threat, at least she doesn’t think so?

“Don’t look at you like what? Do you not want me to be happy to see you?” Was she? It’s a bittersweet feeling, one she can’t quite recognise. It swirls within her and threatens to make her nauseous, digging her paws against the pavement below. Brushing against the harsh granite, threatening to bruise or bleed. “I… I didn’t?” Her voice is tight and high pitched, confused as to why this was even a possibility. The maine coon still heeds her warning growl, staring down at large paws that flexed uncomfortably, not understanding why she couldn’t do so much as look at her.

“You were taken from me, Twolegs who I didn’t know came and took you away” she has said this many times in recent memory, more in the past pawful of seasons then she had in a whole cycle. Her throat feels tight, clogged up and yet too dry, in turn her voice wobbles where she so commonly trills. The echo of a kit's warmth, of her chitters demanding to bed, Flora’s own sobs the first night without that presence. “I tried to look for you, granted- it’s grown sparse lately but I never gave up” should she be revealing so much? Would it hurt more to blatantly lie or to admit that partially she had given up. She remembers looking until her limbs ached, until the sun started to fade, yet after Ditto and Pyrrha joined her all those moons ago she had started to run on less time. That time all but vanished once she joined SkyClan’s ranks, yet she didn’t want to lose Magnolia again- forever this time? She would say any horrible truth, anything her daughter wanted to hear in this moment if it meant she would stay.

“I’ve always cared about you- I still do. I thought you were” dead “missing, maybe you moved? Clearly I was wrong” there’s a breath of silence from her as she tries to think about what to say, tears threaten to spill but she wills them to not. “I’m sorry” she would say that as many times as needed then some more. For what? She couldn't name just instance, they would both be here until the moon reached its zenith.


  • FLORABREEZE 𖧧 She/her || Daylight Lead Warrior of SkyClan || 36 moons
    A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can.
    Mentored by Sorrelsong /Mentoring Jellypaw & Sfogliatella
    “Speech”, thoughts, attacking
    Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}