GILDED FLOWERS ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ duckshimmer

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　Swansong settles herself beside Duckshimmer in the edges of camp, feeling the sunhigh glow beat down upon her back. It is a quiet and languid day, greenleaf mugginess weighing ShadowClan down like bogwater. A good day to pass the time with some quiet conversation...

And there is something particular on Swansong's mind today. Her eyes drift to one of the more spirited faces in camp, voice carrying overloud across the stagnant air. Singepaw's hotheadedness is too long-lasting to be blamed upon youth. She huffs a soft laugh, raspy and wheezing. "Your kits are quite the pawful, mm?" She murmurs, something fond in her tone. She's always had a soft spot for the bounding little furballs, always had a quiet and aching guilt over the ones she should have been there for. She hardly saw her younger siblings' kithood, yet she has seen so many young faces grow in their stead. It soothes the ache, a little.

She remembers when Duckshimmer's children were young. She was young then, too, yet she feels the pride of their mother bleed over. It must be nice, watching them grow up.

Her mind drifts.

She had not paid much attention to the molly in her youth, unconcerned with others' affairs unless they made themselves interesting. Her head tilts just slightly, still staring out into the camp. "Their father... Did you..." The words are soft, hesitant. They trail away, and Swansong is in no rush to continue.

"Love him...?" The conclusion is small, as if unsure if asking such a thing is allowed. Why else would they have kits, if not for love?

They blink, slow and contemplative, pausing another moment before elaborating. "I find myself wondering..." So many things. Wondering about rat skulls and cobweb-filled bears, red thread and blue eyes. "What it feels like, how you know..." Her eyes are distant, not meeting Duckshimmer's. An array of hazy images flit through her mind, kit-faces and blooming poppies. Memories of warmth in her chest; her smile comes wistful and soft.

‎‎┌── WE FOUND TWO DEAD SWANS ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND FILLED THEIR BODIES WITH FLOWERS ──┐‎

• @Duckshimmer
  
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  "SPEECH"

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  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, fourteen moons.
  ➳ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ➳ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ➳ halfshade x smogmaw, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Duckshimmer]

*+:｡.｡ Duckshimmer has found herself quite fond of Swansong in a manner she hadn't entirely been expecting. Since their conversation, Duckshimmer couldn't help but see the young adult, in the same manner, she viewed her kits - something small and fragile, like a silk moth breaking out of its cacoon to flutter still-limp wings. An odd protectiveness filled her chest when she watched Swansong, a feeling she couldn't say she was entirely comfortable with. It was already enough to feel so much for her three little monsters, she didn't need to harbor a need to protect a grown molly who wasn't even hers by blood. And yet, here she was, spending an evening with the ethereal feline, grooming their silken fur as if their collection of swan feathers could ever need assistance in shining brighter.

"Petulant thorns in my side, indeed" she meows between strokes with a deep sigh, not opening her eyes as she works. She doesn't need to look to know her son is arguing about something, or ranting about a passion, or challenging someone to a friendly - or hostile - spar. She knows she doesn't need to involve herself - always more of a hands-off kind of mother unless the little vermin ran the risk of upsetting her reputation. So far, Sneezepaw's cheeriness, Singepaw's passion, and Swallowpaw's independence had proven relatively more useful to Shadowclan's ranks than damaging, so she was happy to let them be.

Duckshimmer thinks, then, of Halfshade. If the woman was watching them wherever Starclan could when the sky was too bright to harbor its residents so obviously. A tinge of guilt creeps in as she grooms, but she bats it aside immediately. To withhold her affection out of fear of a dead mother's envy felt ridiculous. It wasn't like she wanted to replace Halfshade as a maternal figure in Swansong's life. Hell, she barely wanted to be the mother of her brood most of the time!
Although...she supposes she wouldn't have minded having a little kit as sweet as Swansong among those she could proudly claim as her own...but that's neither here nor there, now, is it?

"Not even for a fleeting moment, no" Duckshimmer would respond with a yawn. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked. It isn't exactly a shameful secret - she isn't the first queen to turn up randomly pregnant, the gratitude that she's provided the clan with healthy kits outweighs the cons of sharing her promiscuity with cats outside of Shadowclan. She's not ashamed of it, but it's not exactly a moment in her life she's eager to elaborate on.

But she does peek up, studying the feline as they trail off, a distant look in their eyes. The soft smile says it all.

Duckshimmer sighs, lifting her head to properly get a look at the young feline before her. Radiant with a gentle beauty few cats could hope to exude, Duckshimmer recalls making a joke once about how odd it is that Swansong isn't batting away felines left and right beginning for her paw. Studying her now, she thinks it just might be the other way around that's true...

"I'm afraid I'm not the most knowledgeable when it comes to matters of the heart, sweetie" she explains with a wane smile, wishing she could help better, "but I can tell you, at least, what love isn't" Sitting up properly, the woman grooms at her chest, recalling the memories of her one-night stand like pulling a snake out of the mud. "He...was a tom I met while out alone by the border. " A wolfish smile and hungry eyes, the first real reminder that she was more mouse than cat sometimes. "There are cats in this world that will leave you feeling small. They won't necessarily need to say cruel things-" The wolf at the border had been quite sweet with his compliments, "- but in the way they make the air feel heavier. How, when you press closer, you feel colder for it. When it isn't love, you'll find it difficult to keep your eyes closed around them. " She blinks, realizing she's pulled the viper too close to the surface.

Letting out a sigh as she shrugs her shoulders and forces her fur to lay flat, the woman meows, "Really, if you love someone truly, thinking about them won't feel like such a burden - a chore as empty as kicking sand over droppings" Focusing her attention back on Swansong, she smiles once more, "instead, I believe you'd be smiling at their memory, longing for another glimpse to many sitting comfortably in your chest" she leans closer, periwinkle eyes aglow with mirth, "Who is it that's making you smile like that, Swansong my dear? Come now, you can tell me" she purrs.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/5/24

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  GENERAL:
  ⚜ Duckshimmer
  ⚜ DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
  ⚜ 33 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ⚜ Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
  ⚜ Shadowclan — Warrior
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ⚜Physically medium | mentally hard
  ⚜ Attack in bold #ffa98f
  injuries: None currently

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