![Patchpaw [in.]](/data/avatars/l/0/673.jpg?1665193031){kind=avatar}
- Oct 4, 2022
- 87
- 4
- 8
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE
For a while now, the little pink flower sat nestled just behind her left ear. Each night, Patchpaw would take the flower out to set it on the corner of her nest, that way nothing could smush its fragile little petals, and each morning, she would carefully tuck it back on, much like some kind of ritual. She was protective over the flower. While it was only a little one that would one day decay and wither, to let its petals fall to the ground, she would take care of it for as long as she could. Now, the petals bloomed with a gorgeous sky-pink color, fading into a much deeper, richer magenta in the middle.
One particular thought, however, remained on Patchpaw's mind as she went about her business with the flower in her fur. What kind of gift could she give that matched the same value as the value the flower holds to her?
Even then, she found herself idly staring away at the flower held between her paws. Aside from patrols, clan meetings, and other daily necessities, she had been leaving the apprentice's den less and less, instead finding comfort in withdrawing to her nest at the back of the den. All of her friends were becoming warriors... whether she would be next, Patchpaw wasn't entirely sure. Her eyes stray from the pink flower to the little collection of feathers resting in the very crook of the den, underneath the branches and leaves. Most of them were from birds that she's caught before, like finches and sparrows; but she knew a finch feather, while pretty on its own, did not match up to the same standards as a gorgeous flower like the one she now held.
Instead, she sits up, rustling through the feathers with a strange, new focus. No, it had to be a feather that even Patchpaw was proud of for having in her possession--a feather that demanded one to admire its magnificence.
And, as if presenting itself to her, the feather of an adult snowy owl appeared from the pile, pure white with spotted black dots lining the upper half. While it had not been from a catch--now that would certainly have been a story to tell--it had fallen onto her tiny pink nose one fateful night, only barely half a moon after her apprenticeship ceremony. It was, in fact, the entire reason why Patchpaw had grown such a liking to feathers.
It's the perfect gift.
Picking it up gingerly between her teeth, she stuffs the rest of the feathers back into the crook underneath the brambles and lifts her weary body to her feet. Cloudyfur couldn't be far from here, especially after having her own warrior's ceremony. A perfect time to gift her something in return!
Now focused, Patchpaw's eyes carefully scan the camp for the gray-furred molly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Once she's spotted her, she strides towards the newly-made warrior with new warmth in her eyes and a kindly, albeit slightly awkward, smile, and drops it at Cloudyfur's paws.
"Here. Ah... I wanted to give this to you. For the flower you gave me, and for your warrior's ceremony." She musters the best smile she can offer, with her little pink flower now tucked behind her ear once more.
// @Cloudyfur ♡
One particular thought, however, remained on Patchpaw's mind as she went about her business with the flower in her fur. What kind of gift could she give that matched the same value as the value the flower holds to her?
Even then, she found herself idly staring away at the flower held between her paws. Aside from patrols, clan meetings, and other daily necessities, she had been leaving the apprentice's den less and less, instead finding comfort in withdrawing to her nest at the back of the den. All of her friends were becoming warriors... whether she would be next, Patchpaw wasn't entirely sure. Her eyes stray from the pink flower to the little collection of feathers resting in the very crook of the den, underneath the branches and leaves. Most of them were from birds that she's caught before, like finches and sparrows; but she knew a finch feather, while pretty on its own, did not match up to the same standards as a gorgeous flower like the one she now held.
Instead, she sits up, rustling through the feathers with a strange, new focus. No, it had to be a feather that even Patchpaw was proud of for having in her possession--a feather that demanded one to admire its magnificence.
And, as if presenting itself to her, the feather of an adult snowy owl appeared from the pile, pure white with spotted black dots lining the upper half. While it had not been from a catch--now that would certainly have been a story to tell--it had fallen onto her tiny pink nose one fateful night, only barely half a moon after her apprenticeship ceremony. It was, in fact, the entire reason why Patchpaw had grown such a liking to feathers.
It's the perfect gift.
Picking it up gingerly between her teeth, she stuffs the rest of the feathers back into the crook underneath the brambles and lifts her weary body to her feet. Cloudyfur couldn't be far from here, especially after having her own warrior's ceremony. A perfect time to gift her something in return!
Now focused, Patchpaw's eyes carefully scan the camp for the gray-furred molly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Once she's spotted her, she strides towards the newly-made warrior with new warmth in her eyes and a kindly, albeit slightly awkward, smile, and drops it at Cloudyfur's paws.
"Here. Ah... I wanted to give this to you. For the flower you gave me, and for your warrior's ceremony." She musters the best smile she can offer, with her little pink flower now tucked behind her ear once more.
// @Cloudyfur ♡