gentle grip of night's unfolding arms // bramblesong

[✧ Snailcurl.]

I JUST LOVE YOUR PUPPYDOG EYES ​

snailcurl | 31 months | female | she/her | physically easy (heavily pregnant) | mentally medium | attack in bold pink​

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As the air grows colder and the days shorter, the molly finds herself leaving the saftey of camp less and less, leaving the nursery even more so. Nesting she thinks her mother had called it - the urge to primp and preen her nest endlessly until it is just right, the urge to curl up and sleep more than she ever has, eat less than she ever has. Her kitting has finally caught up to her, the urge to settle in for the inevitable sinking its claws into her. But now that she can no longer ignore it, no longer push the worries away, she finds herself scared. Her first litter - without her mate by her side. Without anyone.

No... not alone she thinks - green gaze is drawn over to another figure, a she cat a bit older than herself. Bramblesong has made it her life to watch over the kits and queens of the nursery after all - has been nothing but kind in her time here. Perhaps, Snailcurl thinks, it is time to show some trust towards those she now lives alongside. Slowly getting to her paws she weaves her way over to the other molly, tail tip hesitantly reaching out to tap the other feline. "Hello," she greets softly, contemplating. She waits a moment - for the greeting to be returned, for the mollys attention to be turned onto her. "... what is it like? having kits?" her voice wavers in a way that leaves her embarrassed, in a way that reveals her anxieties more than she'd like.

@Bramblesong

 

[Bramblesong]

❝ SOMETHING NEEDED ME ONCE ✿°.✧ ————————————
After a lifetime of strife, borne proudly on her scarred face, Bramblesong finds comfort in the peacefulness of the nursery. Her only battle here is the one to make kits go to sleep early at night, and her paws are allowed to remain soft in service of her fellow queens and their offsprings. Even in the midst of leaf-bare, with hunger gnawing at her insides, it feels like a luxury. She used to feel guilt, thinking her bulk might be better put to use in hunting or protecting their borders, but she knows better now. It takes strength to bear kits and raise them to apprentice age: she is proud to put hers in service of the clan's future.

Still, quite a few queens feel that restlessness and are eager to return to their warrior duties. The newly-named Snailcurl is one of them: Bramblesong saw her coming back from a hunt no more than a handful of sunrises ago, round with kits and waddling determinedly forward. She's glad to have the mother-to-be in the nursery now, where she can rest and gather her strength for the kitting, and where Bramblesong can keep an eye on her more effectively.

Here she comes now, tentatively crossing the space of the nursery to approach Bramblesong. The older molly greets her openly in return, nosing Snailcurl's shoulder companionably. She seems anxious; lonely, too. A first litter, her mate absent... Bramblesong gets it, and her heart squeezes in sympathy at the waver in her voice. She tries to offer what comfort she can.

”It's... A relief,” she settles for, looking away briefly to gather her thoughts before gazing back at the other molly. ”It hurts, at first, but... it's such a joy, to hold your kits against yourself, that it almost doesn't matter. You feel lighter, too, and not just because you're not carrying their weight in your belly anymore,” she adds with a smile.

She goes to curl her tail around the expecting mother in silent comfort. ”I remember being scared. That was the worst part: not knowing what was about to happen. What about you? Are you worried?”

———————————— ✧.°✿ AND I KNOW SOMETHING WILL NEED ME AGAIN ❞ ​

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