development i'm lying to myself / open

[Needledrift]

Petals lay over her paws, a gentle reminder of the gift that Ghostkit had presented her with a few hours earlier. Ghostkit, the perfect mixture of Granitepelt and Starlingheart. Polite, unencumbered, unshakeable like her father. Sweet, thoughtful, soft, like her mother. Her and her siblings were going to be very good future warriors for ShadowClan, of this Needledrift was sure. It was impossible not to be with parents like theirs. With grandparents like theirs. With family like theirs.

It had been a lovely gift, Needledrift mused to herself. Just the sort of thing to give her a little pick-me-up after the days of pain she had been muscling through. Just the sort of thing to remind herself that there were cats that cared for her and her well-being. There were so many cats who cared for her: Ferndance, Chilledstar, Sabletuft, Frostbite, Primrosethorn, Chittertongue... they all cared so much in each of their special ways. Needledrift would rank Starlingheart in that echelon as well, even if Granitepelt may not be among the throng. It felt odd even to think that, though, to even mentally separate the young mates.

Very young, came a very small voice in her head. Yes, Starlingheart and Granitepelt were very young by most standards. A third of Needledrift's age at this point with triple her passion and achievements, the first of either of their families to even get into a serious relationship let alone continue it. Even Pitchstar and Dustnose had not managed to find cats that they would like to share a life with and as for Chittertongue -

Something sharp hit her heart then, on the inside, when she thought of Chittertongue having a special someone like that. It was an odd feeling, some burning, piercing something that made her ears warm and her teeth clench. Protectiveness, her mind reasons and though it doesn't feel right, she allows herself to accept that answer. Chittertongue was her closest friend and so it made sense that she would feel protective over him. He was a delicate sort of person - not just any cat could handle all of his idiosyncrasies and quirks. What if they made fun of his cute little cackle or gave him grief for his particularities about personal space? No, no, that sort of thing just wouldn't fly.

The petals scatter as Needledrift flings out her paws, shifting her body into a deep stretch to alleviate the sudden tension in her shoulders at these troubling thoughts. It does little to help. Her claws score the earth in front of her and she sits back with an irritated hmph! Why in the world was this so bothersome?​

i will never leave your room, tell everything that bothers you​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

It had bothered her once, to see the way Smogmaw looked at Halfshade, as though he’d won some precious treasure and would do anything to guard it. It too had upset her to see Starlingheart wobble about camp, belly asway, with her mate watching her from a distance as though she were both the sun and the moon. Like bugs in her fur, it’d felt like, seeing fathers with their daughters, their kin, families knit tight as the nest she curls into at night.

But she sees through these things now, even if just a little bit. She sees Granitepelt with his kits, and she often thinks having no father at all is preferable to the cold look in his eyes when Ghostkit stumbles past him. She thinks about Forestshade’s kits, stumbling into briars and pulling thorns from their fur. Of Frostbite, silent and brooding with a belly full of mystery kits, as her mother had been.

Love is still a mystery to her. Her mother loves her, but her mother’s love comes at a price she is not always willing to pay. She’s seen Chittertongue and Needledrift together, but she’d never registered them as anything more than friends, the way Betonyfrost and Roosterstrut are—she would not know true love between mates if it was a rat biting her tail. She sees the gentle gray she-cat scattering the petals in a silent movement of frustration, and the charcoal tabby approaches on soft paws.

“Need help picking them up?” A clear amber gaze sweeps over them, their softness, tender and easily-bruised. “Is something the matter, Needledrift?”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — comfreykit . comfreypaw
  — she/her, apprentice of shadowclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — short-haired charcoal tabby with amber eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meadowllark

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† A petal catches on the wind. It ends up fluttering near the apprentice's paw. She looks up to see needledrift, contorting herself every which way as if her muscles were cramping up on her. Sharppaw gazes upon her with a frown inlaid, unsure what to make of the situation.

Comfreypaw, much younger than him, is infinitely more help than he was, offering to gather up Needledrift's mess for her. It was an apprentice task, wasn't it? To pick up a mess that you hadn't even made yourself. It may not necessarily be borne of kindness. Sharppaw mentally grimaces, expression straining against her own rationalizations. Like that helps at all. That means he technically had to help. She would push the single petal by her a little closer to the pair, eyes watching Needledrift warily. " ...Do you need Starlingheart? "

OOC † IN THE MIRROR 07.07.2023

• OOC: —
  
•  

• SHARPPAW: brother to Rookpaw. Mentored by Smogmaw
  —— he / she , no pref , icked by they prns ; fine with gendered terms ( tom, molly, etc... )
  —— currently 13 moons old. warrior ceremony delayed due to lackluster progress.
  
  anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharppaw is a creature living in constant fear. Most thoughts are irrational, but consistent in that they are borne from pessimism and generalized anxieties.
  — In an era of assessing what has set him back and figuring out what he wants.

​

 

[Needledrift]

Rats. The gray she-cat quicks her head quickly and forces herself to swallow down the irritation. The bitterness. The... whatever it is. Whatever it is, it is shoved down and stored alongside all of the other nasty feelings that have threatened to consumed her before. It is placed right next to her anger at Betonyfrost, her guilt towards Chilledstar, her awkwardness around Sabletuft. They are all bunched together and pointedly ignored so she does not explode again.

She looks at Comfreypaw first and attempts to put a smile on her crooked face. Is something the matter? She wants to answer 'no'. She wants it to be right, but 'no' feels so, so, so wrong for... whatever reason. Something is the matter, even if that 'something' was as nebulous as the stars above. Still, as wrong as it feels, as guilty as it makes her to lie to the child, the gray warrior shakes her head.

No. Nothing is wrong. She will be okay.

She presses her paw to her face, pushing against her jaw to offer a better excuse. "I think I'm just a little tense from all of the rebuilding. It's been really... stressful. Are you two okay? Any aches, need anything?" She needs to divert. It would be selfish to focus on herself so heavily while she is surrounded by others.​

i will never leave your room, tell me everything that bothers you​