During that particular day, Leopardcloud had been laid out in the Elder's Den while a big molly with greying fur bathed her, finally ridding her of the dirt and filth. Her fur was greasy from oils, and dull from her illness, but it looked neat. The smell of baby's breath stroked her nose first- a welcome scent in the air in her last dying days. She'd accepted it, by now.
What she hadn't expected was to fall in love with a cat who had longer to live than herself. She would have felt guilty, but she wanted to be selfish for once. Bold, and in love- if only once in her life. In a healthy relationship, a healthy love where she was appreciated for more than just her looks. Amanita visited her often, and she had taken a heavy liking to her. Leopardcloud was not blind, neither- she knew Amanita felt the same way. It was unspoken between them, silent peace and love and adoration.
She deserved this. She'd tell herself again, smiling as the molly spoke of a gift for her. The sight of the pretty white flowers, petal so pillow-soft and delicate. Beautiful. Her eyes wandered to the molly, more focused on her instead- absolutely beautiful. the voice whispered in her head, and she couldn't help but agree. Amanita was stunning, and with the way her body was, the sun encircled the top of her head and made a crown of shadow and sunlight.
"Pretty.." Leopardcloud gasps softly, giving the molly a look of adoration before she shook herself with a blush. "I-I mean the flowers.. They're.. Ah.. Pretty. You are too, though-" She rambles with nervous laughter, hearing the goose-like giggles of the other Elderly women in the den not too far away from them. She gestures for the molly to come lay with her, and if she does, Leopardcloud would bump her head against Amanita's own, licking her cheek. "Thank you for the gift, Amanita." She whispers softly, flustered. When she was around Amanita, she couldn't help but to become giddy like an apprentice in love again. It was like falling in love for the first time all over again. "I can make another flower crown with these, perhaps?" She hums in thought, sniffing the flowers with a satisfied sigh. Or she can put it atop our grave. The thought echoed- what was tragic was that she didn't disagree.
