- Nov 30, 2022
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Orangeblossom has always loved stargazing.
On a night like this, where it's clear and warm, the hum of crickets and cicadas string together a nocturnal birdsong that's soothing and agitating in equal measure, it's easy to forget that greenleaf draws close to its end. It's easy to muddle the memory of the cool breeze that had ruffled her fur earlier while on patrol, the promise of leaf-fall on the horizon. It's easy to be in the present, where Orangeblossom sprawls under the stars next to Ashenclaw and turns her brown eyes towards the twinkling sky. Quiet lingers between them, comfortable, but no strands of their fur touch. No mingling of snow and sleet, no contact between the two SkyClanners.
Orangeblossom is very aware that her duty as deputy has torn her from her family once again. SkyClan is a colony of structure, of rules, which she loves about her Clan and how it has evolved. She's always thrived on restriction, flourishing when aided by those guidelines like ivy climbs up a tree, anything from instruction on a hunting crouch to the warrior Code. The sense of control under her claws from being able to enforce those rules is also a source of relief, knowing that if all cats were to follow them then she could excel.
However, in equal measure to the amount of control she is to take over SkyClan, she feels that her connection to her family suffers. Since their apprenticeship, Orangeblossom has barely spent time with her kits. It's to be expected, she knows: warrior life is very different to that of a queen, and the life of a deputy different yet again. It's normal for a mother to catch scarce glimpses of her children during this time, rare to find time for a full conversation. Warrior training takes so much out of new apprentices, too; she's seen time and time again how the little scraps fall into their nests at the end of the night, asleep before their heads even hit the moss. It's hard to temper the little stab of jealousy she feels when she thinks about how easy Alice had it in comparison, with the Colony's relaxed lifestyle allowing her to come and go as she pleases to catch up with her kits.
She'd thought that this freedom would bring her closer to Ashenclaw again in turn, but ... it hasn't. As they fall into their adjacent nests when the sun dips below the horizon Orangeblossom struggles to remain interested as Ashenclaw talks about his day, the newest charms and curiosities of warrior life that he's discovered. He hasn't always been at home in the forest, and she's happy to see him adjust ... but they always seem to curl up and go to sleep before he can ask about hers and coax an answer from his mate. At the same time, she's glad he doesn't ask. There are times she doesn't know if she cares to tell him.
It doesn't bother her, really. She's so far succeeded in suppressing the worried streak in her mind that rings with the voice of her sister, insisting he's not here for her anymore, that she's just a well for him to place his thoughts in without expecting her to talk back. that she's done something to earn this passive ire. Orangeblossom knows that can't be true. She's always been blunt, unafraid to speak her mind, and that hasn't changed at all. She doesn't get the sense that his behaviour is malicious; Ashenclaw has never been the malicious kind. Their connection has always been genuine, and him just as so. However, as of late, their interactions have felt superficial. Some carefully curated mask to keep up appearances, empty beneath like a long-rotted log, just waiting for her to misstep and fall through.
Six moons ago, she would have done so blindly. Without caring of the consequences. But they have kits to worry about now, growing into SkyClanners worthy of attention in their own rights, curious and questioning. They'd know something was up between their parents if Orangeblossom doesn't bring this up. Maybe they already do. She doesn't want to leave them without answers when they start asking questions. Their love has never been the wind of a fanning wing that floats between Butterflytuft and Dandelionwish. It's never been the curious, cautious sort of attachment that Blazestar and Bobbie are starting to form. It has always been different.
"Is this working?" Orangeblossom voices aloud, attention on the single twinkling star somewhere left to the nearly-full moon. She doesn't entirely realise she's spoken, voice swallowed by the chorus of the night between them and fading into the murk of her recent memory, but on that suspicion she isn't surprised when Ashenclaw responds:
"What do you mean?"
Six moons ago the love between them had been something fierce, something to be protected. With the quiet that lurches in her chest in place of the infernos of last leafbare, Orangeblossom suspects that that love has been split by five and transferred to their children. She finds she doesn't loathe the idea.
She looks at him now. Ashenclaw is handsome in the moonlight, regal features cut from weathered stone, little nicks around his muzzle picked up from hard training and a harder life in a bountiful forest. The stark moonlight paints one half of his muzzle white. Orangeblossom's love for Ashenclaw has changed incrementally over the moons she's been his mate, nearly two seasons spent together. It's changed in small ways, so gradually she doesn't notice, piece by piece until it resembles something entirely new, in such a way that she looks back at who they had been in leafbare and wonders how they got here.
"Us."
She wonders what this will mean for them now.
Beside her, Ashenclaw shifts. His expression morphs into a frown - guilty for a moment, before it turns softer. Sadder. His tufted ears droop as if a great weight has settled atop his head, and his shoulders tense. Orangeblossom's own twitch, and, unbeknownst to her, her expression falls to match his own.
"I don't know."
