- Mar 1, 2023
- 57
- 12
- 8
don't rush something you want to last forever .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Unlike previous times, Yukio opted to ask @sheepcurl in hopes the warrior would fetch some flowers, far too worried to leave his foster kits, skin prickling with worry that if he didn’t keep them within his eyesight, they’d simply vanish—a nightmare his brain conducted out of grief.
Unlike other times, when Yukio ventured out, untouched by death’s grasp, collecting flowers and all sorts of knick-knacks he thought the other kits would enjoy, his own included until—Yukio swallowed, biting back the whimper that threatened to escape. He refused to ruin such a beautiful day with sadness, not anyone else’s but his own. They might not be his kits, but the prickling worry when they leave his sight is all that more excruciating ( would they too vanish like his own? ), especially when the loss of his own was still fresh in his eyes. He was positive he was a pain in everyone’s backside when he woke ( on the rare days he let his dreams take control of what was real ), looking for his kits that weren’t even there at ungodly hours of the morning only for reality to sink in with tears clouding his vision.
His adoptive kits merely tolerated him, some days it added salt to the wound, but other times he wanted to cry. He could never hope to know what it was like to be plucked from their home, into the care of strangers when they much rather spend their lives with their father. It broke his heart, knowing he might never help them, but he was determined to give them someone to return to when the harshness of reality became too much. He would be there with open arms, no judgment, other than to love them as much as he could, even if they did not see him as anything else but a stranger taking care of them.
Yukio sighed, kneading the ground. He was as useless as a pine cone, it seemed, bringing a soft, belated laugh from down-turned lips. Oh, heavens. He couldn’t be thinking about these things. Not when it was such a beautiful day to weave flowers.
Yukio offered Sheepcurl an appreciative smile, optics crinkling at the flowers nestled beneath his paws, settled just a few lengths from the nursery’s entrance. “T, Thank you!” He chirped, pivoting to peek at Falconkit, offering the tom a closed-eye smile. “Would you l, like to make a flower crown w, with me? I’m s, sure your sisters would l, love one too!” He wiggled, settling into a more comfortable position, beckoning anyone else who wanted to join them. “O, Or would they l, like some flowers b, braided into their fur?” The cream-ticked tabby hummed, already fiddling with three lighter-colored flowers, head cocked.
/ please wait for @falconkit !
Unlike other times, when Yukio ventured out, untouched by death’s grasp, collecting flowers and all sorts of knick-knacks he thought the other kits would enjoy, his own included until—Yukio swallowed, biting back the whimper that threatened to escape. He refused to ruin such a beautiful day with sadness, not anyone else’s but his own. They might not be his kits, but the prickling worry when they leave his sight is all that more excruciating ( would they too vanish like his own? ), especially when the loss of his own was still fresh in his eyes. He was positive he was a pain in everyone’s backside when he woke ( on the rare days he let his dreams take control of what was real ), looking for his kits that weren’t even there at ungodly hours of the morning only for reality to sink in with tears clouding his vision.
His adoptive kits merely tolerated him, some days it added salt to the wound, but other times he wanted to cry. He could never hope to know what it was like to be plucked from their home, into the care of strangers when they much rather spend their lives with their father. It broke his heart, knowing he might never help them, but he was determined to give them someone to return to when the harshness of reality became too much. He would be there with open arms, no judgment, other than to love them as much as he could, even if they did not see him as anything else but a stranger taking care of them.
Yukio sighed, kneading the ground. He was as useless as a pine cone, it seemed, bringing a soft, belated laugh from down-turned lips. Oh, heavens. He couldn’t be thinking about these things. Not when it was such a beautiful day to weave flowers.
Yukio offered Sheepcurl an appreciative smile, optics crinkling at the flowers nestled beneath his paws, settled just a few lengths from the nursery’s entrance. “T, Thank you!” He chirped, pivoting to peek at Falconkit, offering the tom a closed-eye smile. “Would you l, like to make a flower crown w, with me? I’m s, sure your sisters would l, love one too!” He wiggled, settling into a more comfortable position, beckoning anyone else who wanted to join them. “O, Or would they l, like some flowers b, braided into their fur?” The cream-ticked tabby hummed, already fiddling with three lighter-colored flowers, head cocked.
/ please wait for @falconkit !
thought speech
