camp east of the moon ☾ birth ☼ west of the sun

—————————————————————⊰☾⊱————————————————————

The gathering was tonight, the moon full and there is no rising howl of wolves to shatter the peaceful silence anymore - like several of their clanmates they are now quiet. She was born on such a night, not in ThunderClan camp as she was supposed to be but upon SkyClan territory in her mother's frantic bid to have kits away from a medicine cat she didn't trust. How similar they were now, Moonwhisper felt the urge to follow in her pawsteps, away from the cat she didn't want near her during her most vulnerable moments but unlike Little Wolf she had nowhere else to go; she was a ThunderClanner only, there was no second clan to hold part of her heart as it once did when they were kits. The tortie point shifts uncomfortably, with so many queens the den was cramped and she felt smothered and overheated, it was awkward feeling so strange in her own body; the additional weight and occasional pain a reminder of what was to come. Perhaps sooner than she expected. She rises to stand with a wince, discomfort rippling across her pelt as she steps carefully to the mouth of the den out into the camp itself with the intention to get something to drink and enjoy the crisp night air when a sharp pain makes her hackles raise and claws flex into the ground; briefly she thinks she's being attacked, her mind envisioning sharp teeth line in a pointed maw - a wolf bearing down on her defenseless and in the open, but eventually she realizes its her stomach. Another pain, sharper, more prolonged in its agony, makes her settle down to sit outside with hunched shoulders and a bowed head. Surely the kits weren't coming now, Roeflame was pregnant a little longer than she was so naturally she should be having hers first right? Moonwhisper's ice blue gaze darts around the camp for help, for anyone, briefly she glances at the medicine cat's den and her maw parts, "Berry-", before she catches herself and grits her teeth.
A shadow flits across her vision, she is doubled over in pain now and not entirely aware of who it was but she hears them whisper frantically, 'Get Gentlestorm!'
No. Do not get him.

She doesn't want him near her, she doesn't want him to touch her, his paws brought only death to her family and she will not allow her kits to be risked. "Lightstrike-" It's quiet at first before she lets her yowl rise into a shout proper, "Lightstrike!" She had never once mentioned him as her mate prior, it was no ones business, it was their business only, but she wanted him here right now. She wanted him at her side where he'd always promised to be. His stupid striped face was the only comfort she needed. Ebony claws like crescent moons curve into the ground, tear the earth under her paws as she writhes on her side beneath the blue light of the moon above basking over ThunderClan's camp hollow.

  • Ooc- This takes place DURING the gathering! Anyone can have been the cat to fetch Gentlestorm!
    @LIGHTSTRIKE . & @GENTLESTORM

  • 75204781_kmRWM9XaLmDg6Vg.png
    Moonwhisper
    —⊰⋅ Warrior of ThunderClan
    —⊰⋅ She/Her
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ LH Tortiseshell point w/ice blue eyes

 
WE HAVE YET TO CRASH ✧°.☀ —————————————————————————————
As time wore on, it seemed as though Lightstrike were little more than Moonwhisper's personal shadow. He hadn't expected to worry and fret so much. Were pregnancies always so stressful for everyone involved? He had been certain he would have taken on a wolf himself had it come down to it.

Lightstrike hadn't been called to go to the gathering. That was... fine, he supposed. In the wake of it all, he wasn't sure he'd wanted to go, anyway. He was still reflecting on it all. The cats that had died. What if it had been Moonwhisper? Thoughts like that made him feel awful. He felt horrible that his Clanmates had gotten so hurt, but she was fine. She was fine. He hadn't failed her, she was fine.

The cream-pelted warrior had been laying near the fresh-kill pile when his name split through the air. It was coincidence, really, although he had been wondering about bringing her something to eat. An excuse to be there, to silence that little voice in the back of his head that seemed convinced she would be in danger if he weren't around. She was so vulnerable, and it wasn't like her.

Lightstrike's head lifted, surprisingly more confused than concerned by the abrupt shout. A question, maybe, or simply demanding his presence as she was so oft to do.

Moonwhisper was on the ground.

Heart lurching and paws already moving before he'd quite registered the sight, he was surging over to her side and crouching. "What? What?" he near yelped, a paw hovering uselessly. "Hey hey hey, you're okay, you're-" Oh. Was she-?

Oh.

"Is it- Are you-? I'm- I'm here, I'm here." He was fumbling for words, stooping down to swipe his tongue frantically over her head when she stilled.

[penned by its_oliverr - ]
——————————— ☀.°✧ BUT WE STILL MAY AS WELL ENJOY IT
 
Marigoldpaw wasn’t going to the gathering tonight, thank StarClan. It wasn’t ever something he’d willingly go to anyways, plus his second mentor is only so far away from kitting. Even if the two of them weren’t a pair for that long, he still couldn’t help but worry about how Moonwhisper giving birth will go. His memories of Sunfreckle’s second litter are starting to get fuzzy with age, but the stress of it will never leave him, and how he went in to comfort the newborns in worry.

The queen’s words reach his ears lightning fast, and he is quick to stand up from where he was resting in the apprentice den and rush out to the middle of camp. Marigoldpaw’s ears lower as he sees her distress, but luckily it isn’t too long before Lightstrike is at her side. It’s not like it’s that surprising that it was him she courted with, as even he could see it coming from a mile away. But that’s not what’s important right now. He needs to grab Gentlestorm.

Entering the medicine den feels wrong, in a way. It’s clear to him that Moonwhisper does not want him to be the one to help her out, but it’s not like there’s much of a choice. Even he’d feel guilty if something went wrong… “Gentlestorm. Moonwhisper is giving birth,” the creme apprentice says bluntly. “I don’t think she really wants to see you though...” It’s not like he’s the adult here, so whatever the medicine cat thinks is best; he just felt it needed to be said.

// OOC: Grabbing @GENTLESTORM
 

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-
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Roeflame had always loved gatherings, the excitement of hearing her name announced by Howlingstar, the enchantment of seeing those great oaks bathed in milky moonlight.
While her promotion and granted her the privelege of choice, Roeflame had refused to let the magic of attending end, even after the memories of Dewfrost and Snowpath had haunted her visits to the Four Trees for moons, ultimately the tabby molly had opted to solidify the fondness in the past rather then the tragedy.
Now, however, she was far too round and far too close to her due date to attend. That was okay, though, or at least Roeflame was trying not to give into that itch in her brain that told her to be petulant towards the idea of missing out.
Berry-
Consumed by her thoughts, Roeflame almost misses the strained whisper from outside the nursery. Roeflame struggles herself upright, attempting to peer outside of the nursery’s entrance. To catch a glimpse without the heavy work.
Lightstrike!
A bark bounces against the woven walls of the nursery, Moonwhisper’s bark.
There’s no way…
Roeflame thinks, stepping out of her nest.
Though, when she finally reaches the mouth of the nursery, her suspicions are solidified as she see’s Lightstrike rush to his mates side, her den-mate sinking into the earth.
”Get her into the nursery!” Roeflame snaps urgently in Lightstrikes direction.
Because this has to be a kitting, it cannot be another tragedy looming around an invisible corner- and in any scenario, this is not a display for the entire camp to see. With her own kits due any heartbeat now, Roeflame’s approach is slower than she’d like, but when she’d reach the duo it would be to use her nose to encourage Moonwhisper upward, pressing it against the other queens shoulder. Hopefully, the other would opt to focus on not giving birth in the camps clearing rather than swatting Roeflame’s ears off.



  • ROEFLAME she/her, Lead Warrior of Thunderclan, twenty-two moons.
    petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
    mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Foxpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
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'CAUSE SOMEWHERE DOWN THE BANK — The gray striken mountain of fur had decided to stay home once more from the gathering due to the injured and the plump queens that were due soon, his feathered ears pricked forward as snow capped paws brush against the shelf that held his herbs that he had organized several times over. He has to remind himself quietly of which herbs would help a queen after kitting though his thoughts are interrupted when he hears the shouting of Moonwhisper and how she calls for her mate, his whiskers twitch and he reaches for a raspberry leaf. Marigoldpaw pushes through the fern tunnel only to step inside of his den and the sound of his blunt voice makes the giant turn to face the smaller tom, his dark gaze searches for any emotions in the creme apprentice's eyes or facial expression only to murmur quietly "That's a shame," Gentlestorm begins lightly as a large paw reaches for a stick that he brings closer, "Moonwhisper should find a cat willing to train as a medicine cat so she needn't worry about me. Surely, that will solve all of her problems. Perhaps she could train them too so they fit her standards." There's no harshness or ill feelings behind his tone, after all, that's his late mate's daughter and he would do anything right by Little Wolf and her family even if the molly was rather unlikable.

"Thank you for getting me, Marigoldpaw." Gentlestorm says at last to the apprentice with a curt nod of his head, his tone a lot warmer than the light bluntness he had taken before, and collected his bearings as he steps out from his den towards the sound of frantic chattering. His golden eyes lock onto the sight of Moonwhisper on the ground clearly in pain from the contractions, Roeflame already taking action to get her denmate back inside of the nursery, and Lightstrike... Well, he's trying his best. He places down the raspberry leaf and stick down only to turn to Lightstrike does he speak "Take these to the nursery." The healer doesn't leave much room for arguements as he pads closer to Moonwhisper not caring what dangers he may face, it's his duty to make sure that these kittens were born safely and that the hotheaded molly lived, and he would make sure of it. He nods to Roeflame offering a brief smile to her only to reach the close to kitting molly's side and mumbles "Lean against me, I'm getting you to the nursery." Gentlestorm takes a deep breath thinking of a quiet prayer to Starclan and Little Wolf only to attempt brushing his shoulder against Moon's to that she may lean on him.

With him being here now, Roeflame would be safe from her denmate's claws. The same could not be said about the medicine cat but he frankly didn't care at the time, he had faced much worse than Moonwhisper's biting words.


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  • MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
    ✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ INFECTIONS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ ACHES & PAINS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ ILLNESS
    ✿✿❀❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
    ✿❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
    ✿✿❀❀❀ BROKEN BONES
    ❀❀❀❀❀ KITTING
    ❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
  • q0K38mZ.png
    a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
    gentlestorm is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
    53 moons old; ages the 27th every month
    widowed/not interested; mated to little wolf
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ With all the cats gone to a 'gathering'.. whatever that was.. Sparrowkit quickly ran out of things to do and people to play with, and much to the gratefulness of his denmates, he had fallen asleep easily.

He was awoken from his lively dreams by the sounds of a shout, from a cat he recognized as Moonwhisper. At first, he thought the scary wolves were back, leaving his fur standing on end - but the snarls he heard that night did not fill the air now. So, he sought to ignore it at first, thinking of it as just a random occurrence, but the bustling of more cats grabbed his attention.

He poked his head out of the nursery, regarding the cats that were urgently trying to move Moonwhisper to the nursery. "What's going on?" he mewed, fearfully, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He was starting to feel wide awake now. "Why is Moonwhisper on the floor? What are you doing, Lightstrike? Why does Auntie Roeflame sound so scared?" The questions fell out of his mouth one by one, a flood of knowledge the boy so desperately sought. All the meanwhile, he was beginning his ascent out of the den, crawling out of the hole with a trip like he was stumbling over his own words.




  • thunder-kit-transparent.png
    SPARROWKIT he/him, loner kitten, 2 moons.
    a long-furred white tom with chocolate markings on his ears, tail, and a heart-shaped mark on his flank.
    loner heritage. adopted son of FLAMEWHISKER
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by ixora@.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
—————————————————————⊰☾⊱————————————————————

Lightstrike was there suddenly as if the sound of his name conjured him from nowhere, she wants to cry suddenly, she wants to lament her fears, but Roeflame arrives to insist they move and the kits were coming-she knew it now, there was no denying it even if it made no sense. Did it mean there was something wrong? Should she be more worried?
If she was not in pain and able to focus she would have swung at Gentlestorm for touching her but her claws grip the ground and she needs all four paws beneath her to even move as her back arches; the tortie point gives a growl low in her throat as she holds back a whimper, unwilling to show weakness even now and Sparrowkit's confused little voice snaps her gaze in his direction briefly and it reminds her of the source of her agony - kits. KITS. The kits. Wedged between Roeflame and the larger snowy coat of the medicine cat she drops back to her nest with a huff and glances once again to Lightstrike with wide pleading blue eyes; she knows its too crowded for him to be hovering but she would rather him than anyone else though she does not get the time to voice her complaint when the pain becomes unbearable enough she can only yowl.

At some point someone offered her a stick and she snapped her teeth around it with enough force it left indentions on first bite, but the time the final kitten was born - three? there were three - she all but bit it in two and left her mouth feeling chalky and bitter from sap but she didn't care. It was over, it was over and she tilted her head around with a back paw tucked up to her side to nudge the squirming little bundles of fur closer as she inspected each through heavy breaths.
Two splotched and multicolored, one tinged red more than the other which was dark and almost muddy, the third a vibrant flash of red - darker ginger than even Lightstrike's pelt and for a moment her heart siezes as the sight of the fiery colors, an image of her father rising in her mind that she shook away. No. NO.
Moonwhisper's nose gently touched each tiny head, licking them over as she mulled over the limited names she had thought of in her time in the nursery and her annoyance that her mate had been little help in that department. Clawkit? Really? Ugh, why did she like him so much?
"Mottledkit." She said finally, the dark patchy kitten with the many spots - it suited them. Her ice gaze drifted to the next born, the one that briefly reminded her of her father's colors and she quickly blurted out, "Meadowkit..." For her mother, for the meadowy areas she enjoyed, for the meadow they had found the Lungwort in that cost her her life, and perhaps out of spite. Her mother deserved the honor more than her father did. Finally, the last kit, a little on the scrawny side and splashed in colors with the most prominent being red. Redkit made the most sense, but she mused over how boring it was and opted for something a little more elegant, "Scarletkit." It was probably the most creative one she'd thought of. With a sigh her head dropped to her paws, gaze wandering past the others to Lightstrike who could now finally join her in the aftermath.

  • Kit Tag - @mottledkit & @MEADOWKIT & @/scarletkit

  • 75204781_kmRWM9XaLmDg6Vg.png
    Moonwhisper
    —⊰⋅ Warrior of ThunderClan
    —⊰⋅ She/Her
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ LH Tortiseshell point w/ice blue eyes

 
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· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ───────────── · ·

All she knew was the soft whooshing of a heart that belonged to her. The warmth of the confined space... the rumbling, distorted voice of someone out there that eagerly awaited her arrival. It is comfortable here... and ever-sleepy eyes are not eager to depart it except for when it feels like her whole world begins to shake. It is an ugly thing. A beautiful thing. One marked in crimson. And shrill, angered cries of one exposed to a blustering cold. Something rough scrapes across delicate, smooshed-in features- her mouth open in pitiful defiance, only to be greeted with another harsh lick that quickly closes it. An unsteady head wobbles furiously and if StarClan were willing enough to give her strength, the blind extension of a frustrated paw might slap this invisible foe and cease such an onslaught.

It is a spiny-backed, wet thing that finds itself distracted near immediately at the heady scent of something sweet... it is close, so close that folded ears wiggle in unrestrained excitement, aided for once by the elusive, soft guidance of whatever had brought her here. She is the first- and greedy in equal measure- to grab at tender, pink skin that demands her focus and attention- every kneaded paw into downy, warm underbelly is fervent, selfish, growled around to stake her claim.

The fighting spirit dies quickly where milk fills a churning belly... and with the illusion of comfort restored, sleep is not hard to find next.​
 
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'CAUSE SOMEWHERE DOWN THE BANK — The healer had been fortunate to not have gotten swung at and instead his help is begrudgingly accepted by the queen, it isn't long until Thunderclan's newest arrivals are born, and Gentlestorm feels his heart flutter in the slightest. It's rewarding knowing that he had assisted and made sure that all had went smoothly, he thanks Starclan quietly in his mind despite the exhaustion he felt tugging at his body. His gaze softens when he hears the kittens names but he focuses once more when Moonwhisper drops her head and her attention had moved onto her mate, Gentlestorm draws closer pushing the raspberry leaf to the queen and speaks in a hushed voice but it's firm "Here. Eat this, it'll help." To Lightstrike, he turns to knowing that Moonwhisper would not seek him out if there was any problems or if she needed anything. "If she needs anything else or if I'm needed. Do not hesitate," Gentlestorm nods to Roeflame hoping that she would call for him if Lightstrike didn't go for him seeing that Moonwhisper is her denmate.

"Congratulations to the both of you." He murmurs watching as the newly named Mottledkit begin to nurse and he makes his exit knowing that his presence was no longer needed at the moment, he would let the queens rest and the new father take in the sight of his new kits. He'd retire to his den and hopefully get some needed rest cause only Starclan knew how tired he is.

/ out! :]


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  • MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
    ✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ INFECTIONS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ ACHES & PAINS
    ✿✿✿❀❀ ILLNESS
    ✿✿❀❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
    ✿❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
    ✿✿❀❀❀ BROKEN BONES
    ❀❀❀❀❀ KITTING
    ❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
  • q0K38mZ.png
    a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
    gentlestorm is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
    53 moons old; ages the 27th every month
    widowed/not interested; mated to little wolf
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
Some of the cats went to this thing called a 'gathering'... whatever that is. Deerkit ran out of things to do in this boring nursery. He doesn't want to be a bother to the adults around, so he settled in hiding away in the nursey. The longhaired tortie curled up with a faint grumble as he then curled his tail about his small form. Eventually falling asleep.

He awake to a ruckus of voices, he cracked an eye open looking up from his spot. He heard Moonwhisper's voice, Lightstrike's, Roeflame's voice.. Um.. What's going on? He lifts himself up onto his paw, with a slight frown on his face. Confused. He poked his head out of the nursery, hazel eyes gazing at the bustling of cats near. "Wha's g-goin' on?" He mewed nervously, stumbling over his words as per usual. He watches as the adult's bring Moonwhisper into the nursery, turning his head around to watch as the older cats talk. He doesn't get it. I-is Moonwhisper hurt..? The little tortie, curled up onto a crouch wrapping his dark paws over his eyes. He's not going to look, this all little seems scary. He hears Mr.Gentlestorm leave the den, he lifts his head up from his crouched position looking up at Moonwhisper's nest.

He nervously shuffles towards it, with a little twitch of his tail. Near the nest, he pokes his head up leaning his head over it looking at the new.. strange bundles next to Moonwhisper's belly. "New.. d-denmates?" He scrunches his muzzle up slightly at the newcomers. He heard of the new names, spoken out by the tortiseshell queen. Weird blobs...

EpC61GT.png

  •  
  • no ref yet </3
  • ( uh.. i don't get it ) DEERKIT : kitten of thunderclan
    — amab ; HE / HIM ; currently 2 moons
    — undecided / single / not looking / open to puppy-crushes
    — a LH black/dark ginger tortie and white tom with hazel eyes
    action , thoughts , "Speech, ff7844"
    — smells of fresh caramelized apples & faint damp earth musk

    -tags / @ on discord for plots
    - penned by calzone
 
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Like Mottledkit, Meadowkit is not yet ready to leave the comforting thump thump of that big heart. She is born into this world and greeted by a silence, an absence of noise, so great that immediately she feels the need to fill it. Upon her birth she wails and wails and wails, crying her little head off because how dare they? How dare they rip her from the only thing she's ever known and how dare they replace it with cold and quiet. Where are the bodies she had grown with, pressed against in that dark space? Where was the familiar booming sound that had once been a part of her entire being and why was she so hungry?

A nose touches her pelt, a tongue rasps over her fur and it's a small comfort. It at least quiets her a little though the occasional protest-full squeak can still be heard from her whenever she is licked a little too rough for her liking and she squeals in anger when a nose shoves into her side, unbeknownst to her guiding her to a place where she could once again be surrounded by something familiar.

She finally falls silent when she settles in amongst her littermates, when she tucks into plush fur that smells of flowers and forest. The rhythmic boom-boom that had once been her entire being is fainter now but yes, when she presses against her mothers side she can hear it and she draws comfort in it along with the presence of the others who she would later come to know as her siblings.
EpC61GT.png

  • oZHYGDl.jpeg

  • MEADOWKIT THUNDERCLAN KITTEN ; SHE / HER
    LIGHTSTRIKE X MOONWHISPER SISTER TO SCARLETKIT & MOTTLEDKIT
    A large fluffy red tabby kitten with a white chest, stomach, tail, muzzle and stripe running along her back. Her eyes are a deep, forest, green and in her pelt one can usually find flowers woven
    easy in battle + no formal training
 
She is the final sibling to greet the world, and probably the quietest at first. Whatever anger a kit can feel at this moment, she feels. Grunts of disapproval are sent blindly up at whoever dares to lick back her wet fur and clean her nose so she can breathe properly. Tiny, clawed paws yank her small body forward. Her sisters are larger than her, bulkier, and so they are first to their mother's milk. But the newly dubbed Scarletkit will not give up without a fight. More grunts and mewls leave her as she wriggles forward ferociously, and finally she can feel their pelts beneath her little paws. She crawls over them, uncaring and deaf to any complaints, until she finds the source of the smell she's been after. Finally, she latches, and she is content.
 
WE HAVE YET TO CRASH ✧°.☀ —————————————————————————————
It simultaneously felt as though it went real quick and real slow after that. Moonwhisper was in the nursery. He was pacing. He couldn't stop pacing, even when he was periodically crowded out to reluctantly allow the cats who actually knew what they were doing to get in closer.

Pace outside, worm his way back in, lay by Moonwhisper and lick her restlessly, repeat. "You'll be fine. You'll be fine," he'd said like a broken record, although it was uncertain whether it was for her or himself.

One kit had been born. A wet, discolored scrap, and he stared at it dumbly while the other cats moved in to clean it and lick it. A girl, someone announced, and he blinked himself out of his stupor. His kits were being born. His kits. They really were his kits.

Two kits. Three. Moonwhisper was exhausted, and he couldn't stop fussing throughout, couldn't stop questioning. He'd been sent out more than once already, but it hadn't stopped him from eventually crawling his way back in.

Three kits lay at his mate's belly, and it seemed that finally, finally, the stress was over. Three daughters. He had three kits. They had three kits. Mottledkit, she names one. Meadowkit, Scarletkit.

Lightstrike scarcely seemed to notice Gentlestorm until he was speaking directly to him, starstruck eyes lifting to the medicine cat to nod dumbly before looking back down at his family. With more space clearing to give the queen room to breathe, the warrior crept in to half-curl around her and lay his head down and simply stare at the writhing bundles of fur.

[penned by its_oliverr - ]
——————————— ☀.°✧ BUT WE STILL MAY AS WELL ENJOY IT