let's paint our nails and keep it real ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ applejaw

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　"Applejaw," Swansong greets. The name still tastes strange upon her tongue. She approaches on tentative paws; it is rare for the quiet molly to initate conversation at all, but she has always been more comfortable around family. "Walk with me? It has been far too long since we have talked..." She offers a dim whisper of a smile. I feel like I don't know you, sometimes, sits somehwere behind the thin line of her mouth, and she does well not to let it out. She is composed, pleasant.

Applejaw has been distant since long before her name. Granitepelt's betrayal, Comfreypaw's death... She has lost much, as all of them have. She does not have the same unwavering spirit she once did, does not have the same brash sort of enthusiasm. It is strange to see her sister change; she does not like the feeling of it. A cruel reminder of the passing of time, the cold death's grasp of the cursed marshlands. Has she grown colder, too? Did Granitepelt's influence sink deeper than they know? Swansong keeps those thoughts in the same box she tucks all her musings away. Applejaw is her sister, no matter what happens. They beckon her towards the camp entrance, leading the way with a swaying tail. There is something quietly imploring in their eyes as they look behind to check that she is following.

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

• 
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, thirteen moons.
  ➳ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with droopy 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.
  

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

To her sister Swansong, Applejaw would always turn her head. Most often, such glances were passing, unimpressed... but most important is that she would always look. Halfhsade's other children did not always receive the same treatment, after all. Her voice is a wisp - like rasp that, with surprise, Applejaw notes she wasn't too familiar with, anymore. Swankit had been who she had known best. Swanpaw, she knew less; Swansong, least of all.

A walk. She had more important things to do. The both of them did, in fact, but the ghostliness of Swansong somehow convinces her. " Fine, " an otherwise dry response comes out softly, in this moment and this moment only. She hesitates, because it feels like the last time she had spent time with Swansong had been in the nook of Starlingheart's den. Before Magpiepaw's disappearance. Before the... others. She had felt it at the clan meeting. Swansong humming through the air, weighty, but not as much so as Applejaw. Still, it is strange to stand before her now, as Swansong and Applejaw, respectively. Perhaps things were changing, after all. She wasn't sure Swankit would've ever asked for a walk.

The new warrior sniffs as she's goaded by a pale, cream tail. She was no kit, unable to follow simple directions— but the thought is fleeting; frustrated. She knew why she looked at her like that. Of course she did.

" It could've been you, " she says. Any one of them could've been. Magpiepaw, Sweetpaw, and... there's plenty more. " That's what you're thinking, isn't it? "​

 

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　Pallid, half-empty eyes linger upon their sister's form. She is built sturdy, built strong. Like their father - not like Swansong, all willows and mist. A cat built for survival. That's what she always has been. Made to climb up the backs of others and reach towards something higher, higher. Her square jaw sets with a stubborn sort of resolve - but they do not miss the way it softens, the way her voice softens when she speaks to them. "Wonderful," comes the ghostly-light breath from Swansong's maw. And it is genuine, smile curling soft and light.

They set off, and it is quiet. She has always liked the quiet, has always been one to let silence sit. It is easier to get others to open up if you give them the space... Or merely let the discomfort grow too palpable not to break. The rift between the sisters splits the air like a hungry maw. She knows not how to properly satiate it, and so she waits.

Swansong and Applejaw, both so far from what they once knew one another as. I feel like I don't know you, sits in the silence, and she cannot help but wonder if Applejaw feels the same. She breaks the silence before long; Swansong merely smiles. "Could have been me? Mm, yes, I suppose..." A melodious hum, soft and noncommital. Her mind drifts quietly for a moment. She could have been so many different creatures, unalike what she is - or nothing at all. She does not know which her sister refers to. "For... any number of things. I am afraid... you will have to be more specific." Her response is soft, prompting.

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

• 
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, thirteen 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.
  

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Her jaw sets. Above any and all marshland, tumultuous waters seem to churn. Applejaw does not blame her siblings for acting the way you do. To keep your head above the water took willpower. Either that, or insanity. Ashenfall and his nonsense. Swansong and her nothingness. Even Garlicheart too, perhaps unconsciously, acted the way she did to preserve her mind. Applejaw herself was not exempt from these things. Her head was held high, because she chose not to dwell on these.

She did not plan on starting today. " No, " she refuses. " I don't believe I have to. " He believes it's almost cruel to ask. A catalogue of each and everything that's come in their lifetime... Is that what Swansong wants? She looks to her sister, narrowed eyes and square shoulders. It's what she's resigned herself to since she was made a -paw. " Our families are one of the few in this swamp not yet torn to shreds, even though it's tried very hard to. "

Even as she says this, ghosts do not so easily cease their haunting. Applejaw does her best to aid them in these. She lets their spirit's tails roll off her back like water. They have been scarred, but not shredded. Miraculously, all four of them were still alive. Miraculously, ShadowClan still had a deputy worth something or so she hoped, at least.

" We are not untouched, " she makes this clear. For as hard as she tried to, she could never forget. " But it could be worse. "

And it is a very long, roundabout, unclear, and indirect way to say... I'm glad you're alive.​