little talks — palemoon

Feb 18, 2023
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don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
A rugged jerk of his helm, Duskpool starred at the twinklin’ lights with gusto, wooly plume skimmin’ the undergrowth, kickin’ up small twigs and fallen leaves. Somehow the rugged warrior always enjoyed starin’ up at the vastly lit sky, not out of religion, but to share its endless beauty. It gave him hope, fleeting as it was. Duskpool was always doubtful — pessimistic until some fool wallowed in self-pity, then the warrior wasn’t so keen on sharin’ negative views, not when it wasn’t warranted.

He chuffed, mangled ear swiveling. Hypocritical, ain’t it? Sometimes, he hated bein’ self-aware but rarely did those thoughts surface, especially in the comfort of his thoughts, lost to solitude.

Turnin’ a molten hue toward Palemoon — a close friend, perhaps which is an oddity in itself. It seemed the burly warrior gained more kids than genuine friends. He was all fine with that. What more than to fill his meaningless life with joy that came with guidin’ and being there for them than truly allowin’ another past carefully built barriers.

He didn’t or rather, feel incredibly awkward when accepting a helping paw, especially when he had to rely on himself for moons. Troublesome really. It took more effort to ask than it is to admit, but with time, Duskpool painstakingly hoped that would change before he kneeled over and died.

Glacin’ toward the small molly, uncharacteristically small against his hulking build. “Figured I’d take us to see the fireflies while they’re out.” It would be the closest to touchin’ a star. He figured she’d enjoy it on their walks to view the stars when he wasn’t on night patrol or guard duty. Or nowadays, takin’ care of Ghostkit and visitin’ Hollywhisper ( and givin’ Duststorm parental advice ). “How have ya been doin’?” He commented casually, timbre a deep rumble, brow creasin’ in curiosity. “Hadn’t had time for our nightly walks, kits bein’ the rambunctious brats they are.” He said it with visible mirth, warmth seepin’ through a rugged timbre.

@Palemoon
thought speech
 
The soft breeze brushes against her face, a light ruffle of her wavy mane but mostly blocked by her close friend's stocky frame. A fiercely vibrant amber gaze burning into her soft coat which catches the attention of her half-open ghostly blues, a gentle smile curling at the corner of her lips. The scars that traced his body were all evidence of her friend's rugged and natural fighter appearance, compared to her small and pristine frame. Her world was either drenched in darkness from the left or the blur of shapes and colors of everything she knew, but she never complained about her inevitable demise unlike most. ”Mmm ... thank you, Duskpool ...” Pale would coo softly, her voice a soft tickle to the brain unlike most━ seemingly tired yet comforting as a warm hug on the rainy days.

Duskpool inquires on how she's been as she glances to the starry skies, the bright lights reflecting the stars themselves gently fluttering above. ”Ah ... always the same ...” Palemoon would state as she gently settles onto her haunches, her ghostly gaze watching the insects dance with the beloved silverpelt in the back. The night was always her favorite and it was typically when she was mostly seen around, often entranced in the beautiful stars. Her burly friend mentions his busy days with being an grandparent as a unfamiliar soft chuckle leaves her small frame, tucking a paw underneath her chest. ”Duskpool ... is a very good grandfather ... ” The ethereal woman would compliment, a warm half-open gaze lingering on the tom-cat as her eyes close for a moment.

Palemoon's wavy yet fluffy tail rests at her side as eventually the ghostly blues of hers open once more, a small firefly landing on her nose. ”Oh...” She whispers softly as her blurry gaze focuses on the firefly that sat as a docile charm on her nose, its vibrant light lightening up her shadowed face and reflecting in her pale eyes. What a beautiful welcome. The fawn lynx point thinks as eventually the firefly finishes it rest on her ivory nose blaze, joining its comrades in the skies. ”You ... are well ...?” She inquires towards the older tom-cat, her gentle gaze meeting his fierce gaze━ two complete polars in many aspects. Her free paw gently taps the ground beside her for Duskpool to settle aside her, finding comfort in her close friend's company (and protection from the midnight breeze).
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  • ooc.
  • PALEMOON ⋆ she / her / hers
    ✶ lh fawn lynx point with low white and pale blue eyes, blind in the left
    ✶ 37 moons old; ages the 20th monthly
    ✶ bisexual demiromantic; currently single
    ✶ currently mentoring none; formerly mentored by NPC
    ”speech”, thoughts, attacking
    ✶ all opinions are in character only
 
don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
The burly warrior fought back an airy chuckle, crinkled honey hues shiftin’ to stare at the plentiful trees guiding their way. Good, huh? He never would have thought to consider himself good, but a constant presence — something to look forward too unlike some parents he’d born witness to.

Duskpool never could imagine abandonin’ kits once they reached apprenticehood. They were still growin’ and still needed their parents. Not as much, havin’ mentors and all, but they were still developin’ minds than needed some rugged nurturing.

A selfish part of him wanted to make up for the times he hadn’t been there for Hollywhisper, but those thoughts had long gone. It wouldn’t do a damn thing then bring more harm than good and that was somethin’ his grandkids didn’t need.

He remained standin’, watchin’ the flickerin’ lights with warmth. It’d been a while since he’d seen ‘em up close, but it was all the same bittersweet emotions, now bubblin’ something warm. Always had been pretty things. Flashin’ brightly despite the night encompassing all within its reach.

He caught sight of the small critter landin’ on her nose, unable to hold path the surge of warmth it brought. Times like these. Duskpool was glad he got to share it with close friends, scarce as they are, it was … unblinding contentedness for the life he found through harboring times.

“Doin’ just fine.” He mused, comin’ to settle beside her petite form, nearly envelopin’ her in his shadow. A tail would curl loosely around their meshed frames, honey hues driftin’ across nightly lit skies in search of friends and kin long gone from this world to the flutterin’ fireflies that hummed against scarred features.

A comfortable silence settled over the pair, drawin’ deep, languid breathes that rattled his chest. Duskpool blinked slowly, molten hues crinklin’ in thought.

He shifted, drawin’ a deep sigh from the older warrior, Duskpool drew his gaze to the molly beside him, mangled ear siveling. “What do ya think about the fireflies?” He inquired. “Figured they’d be the closest thing to the stars.” He mused before lettin’ a searin’ molten hue rest resume its observation on the critters.
thought speech
 
While he may consider he was or wasn't a good grandfather, it was obvious he was better than most grandparents and parents in general compared to some out there. He voluntarily took time out of his day, gave them the love and attention which they deserved. His grandchildren loved him dearly and enjoyed spending time with him, even if it mean hanging off him like pinecones on a pine tree. He willingly loved children that weren't his by blood and helped them grow up knowing what it was like being wanted, loved and knowing whatever traumatic places they came from━ will forever be a forgotten memory in a new warm home.

Fireflies were similar to living figments of the stars yet alive and without the power of the stars, yet powerful enough to entrance someone. Small but able to shine up their surroundings just like the sun themselves, a reflection of Duskpool's eyes. She feels his burly frame settle against his, engulfing her small frame in shadows of the night and his own shadow━ her own shadow becoming part of his. Her tufted ears flick slightly as she nods at his words, ghostly blues watching the fireflies and stars in silence. It was just the two of them and nature, a common experience of their typical interactions.

Palemoon's tail rests on top of the scarred tom-cat's, content with the warmth and the blurry vision of the world in the moment. What do ya think about the fireflies? Figured they'd be the closest things to the stars. She blinks once or twice, surprised someone actually took in note of something she liked. Always it seemed, she was the background character of a story that helped the main characters on their rightful journey. Was this what it meant to be appreciated? How nice... Her face feels hot at the thought but the pulling of the corner of lips are inevitable, a soft shy smile plastered on her delicate features.

”I... like them...” The woman would coo softly as always her gaze to follow a singular firefly buzzing around, lightly resting her head against his shoulder. ”... They look like ... mini live stars... and the color of your eyes...” Palemoon would admit with a light chuckle as her blues meet his honey gaze, smiling as she observes the larger feline for the moment. ”... Have you been sleeping... well...?” She knew of his struggles with insomnia and often helped coo him to sleep, sometimes letting the tom-cat use her plush mane to rest in and get some sleep.
 
don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
His chest filled with warmth at the statement, humming contently at the response. A molten honeyed hue crinkled, birthin’ crow feet from gradual age, Duskpool selfishly thought of his kin — adopted and biological — had taken on the persona of fireflies. To never wither, but glow beautifully beneath the blanket of darkness, lightnin’ up the skies with warm glows. It was a childish thought. One he had held onto for quite some time since their deaths over the moons till his epiphany durin’ the journey.

Nearly dyin’ sure made one think hard about one’s life and the promise of bein’ there for his kids and grandkids.

The color of your eyes. Duskpool nearly choked at the admission, mangled ear twitchin’ in surprise, mellowed out by an amused puff of air slippin’ past scarred lips. “That right?” He commented, tone languid.

His shoulders fell lax, offerin’ Palemoon better comfort against a broad shoulder, neck anglin’ to rasp a tongue over his friend’s ear, chuffing. “My eyes aren’t worth the comparison.” He’d muttered. “Nothin’ compared to yers.” He tacked on after a heartbeat, lettin’ a molten hue slither upward toward the shielded moon blanketed by the age-old trees. “Remind me of the full moon.” Serene.

“Nothin’ gets passed ya, eh?” He chuckled deadpan. Unfortunately, Duskpool never stopped his bouts of insomnia, draggin’ himself through the day with little sleep except for the few quick winks he’d get durin’ the night. It wasn’t worth anythin’ since at heart, Duskpool was a workaholic.

It’d taken him a while to gravitate toward the warrior’s den since joinin’ with the long-time regret cloudin’ his mind and weighin’ heavily on tired shoulders — of ghosts that never left, but to haunt him till his waking moments and remind him of his sins that should’ve never been forgiven.

Not for a tom like him.

It never went away either. The unmistakable grief. It had made him reckless.

He breathed evenly, flutterin’ a molten hue across the visible branches, weighin’ his options. “No more that I’ve been gettin’ these past moons.” He eventually added.

Palemoon had been gracious in that department, sleepin’ beside him before he went nose divin’ at death’s door from slippin’ on a damn root. He huffed, amused. It ain’t the greatest way to go out. “A few naps with the grandkids, but they’re readyin’ to take on the world in an hour.” Better than nothin’ he’d always say.

He wondered what brought up the exchange of words, but the older warrior remained silent, focusin’ on the molly beside him. “Are ya gettin’ enough sleep?” He prodded, concerned despite the familiar deadpan tone he often used, timbre low and rumblin’.
thought speech
 
Palemoon enjoyed the comfort and warmth from her close friend, and it was something she wouldn't trade for the world. Duskpool had a rugged life and experienced many death-facing situations, but he always prevailed and made it onto the next day. Sometimes, his stubbornness would finally be changed by facing death by showing him what he had in his life and change his ways. Her paws flex softly in a kneading manner against the air as she notices the shift of her body and his tone relaxing from the usual toughness. That right? ”... Mhm ...” The middle aged woman would coo softly.

With the shift of his body, the fawn lynx point sinks into the comfort of his broad shoulders. A gentle rasp of a tongue touches her tufted ears which cause her ghostly blues to close, a soft purr escaping from the depths of her small body. ”... You do though ...” Pale would respond after softly, insistent that the fireflies and his molten eyes were a reflection of each other. Her long tail tucks closer to her side as she listens to the gentle beating of his heart, a gaze drifting towards the heavens after his statement. Her eyes reminded him of the full moon? A soft 'hmm' in contemplation leaves her as she watches the moon before making eye contact with him.

”... My eyes are not that beautiful...” Palemoon would respond with a soft smile as she gently rubs her forehead against his chin. After a moment, she gives a stern look to Duskpool and attempts to put her forehead against his. Her lips are pursed in a fake pout as she softly reprimands him, ”... Your eyes are beautiful ... and ... worth the comparison.” Hopefully, her point gets apart to the stubborn tom-cat with a stern forehead teaching. After doing so, she shifts back into her comfortable position and allows her small frame to sink into the shadow of his.

Nothin' gets passed ya, eh? Palemoon nods her head as she watches him and notes the slight shifts of tone in his voice and body, a ear giving a faint flick momentarily. ”... I told you ... I'm always here ... if you needed help ....” The lynx point would respond softly as she gets up for a moment and moves to the opposite side of Duskpool, using a paw to rest his head on her shoulder. He continues on how it's the same as always besides a few naps with his family, and seemingly attempts to change the conversation on inquiring how she's been sleeping.

Duskpool, Duskpool. What will I ever do with you? She scolds him internally as she sighs softly, gently grooming his thick coat. A small figure keeps him safe from the world, fawn and white paws wrapped around him for maximum comfort. ”Mmm ... I sleep during ... the day ...” The gentle woman eventually coos softly amidst the soft rasps of her tongue across his scarred dark coat while they rested in the comfort of the stars and the moon.
 
don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
A raucous purr rattled his chest, amused more than anythin’ at the blatant denial, soakin’ up the pleasant sway of affection Palemoon offered, reciprocating it by brushin’ his nose briefly across her forehead. He doubted anythin’ he’d say would change the molly’s mind, stubborn in that regard when she pressed her forehead against his, neck bendin’ awkwardly, but nothin’ he couldn’t ignore with creased brows, expression carefully monotone. “Agree to disagree.” His response takin’ on a smokey rumble, givin’ the molly an affectionate bump of his nose to the side of her temple.

Objectively, Duskpool knew he was handsome, albeit rugged and scarred beyond belief. It wasn’t vainness, not unless he flaunted the fact around pompously.

He breathed, hot against scarred cheeks, offerin’ a warm, hearted rumble, fallin’ pliant beneath Palemoon’s gentle movements, allowin’ his helm to fall limply against her shoulder. A noiseless chuff escaped the burly warrior at their changed positions. “I know.” He stated simply, starin’ out at the quiet luminescence that glowed beneath tree tops, lightnin’ up the endless tenebrosity that surrounded ‘em. I’m workin’ on it.

For so long, it was difficult askin’ for help. Duskpool had relied on himself to lick broken skin and soothe tender aches. Not since Sakura’s death. The older warrior had no one else to rely on with kits and those lookin’ up to him for strength. There hadn’t been a time to express mundane weakness.

There was a pawful of cats he trusted enough to show some weakness — tender, fleeting moments between friends, but never truly allowin’ himself the possibility.

He breathed evenly, chest risin’ and fallin’ to the slow thrum of his heartbeat, shiftin’ till his shoulder eased more comfortably, bulky limbs curlin’ languidly beneath a sideways frame, wooly fur poolin’ around him to create a smokey vortex shrouded in shrubbery and the occasional twig or leaf.

Gentle strokes of her tongue against wooly fur brought Duskpool out of mind to observe their surroundings with a hazy molten hue. He hummed in acknowledgment, breath fluttering past scarred lips. “Won’t do us any good if one of us is sleep-deprived.” He huffed, amused despite the flat, guttural tone he used.
thought speech
 
”... Hmph ...” Palemoon would pout quietly after his statement, ghostly blues closing as his nose bumps against her temple. Once he finished his affectionate touch finished, long lashes flutter as her eyes open, meeting a molten gaze momentarily. In contrast to Duskpool, Palemoon didn't think she was pretty and was normally pretty as any other cat. She's heard statements of how abnormally beautiful she was, but it was more statements on her ghostly and ethereal presence to the world. A delicate prop in this world that seemed as if the slightest touch would cause her to shatter into a million pieces, a voice soft and low that mimics a nursery lullaby in a whisper tone.

The heavy head of Duskpool nestled into her coat and she protectively wrapped around him the best her small frame could, a gentle embrace to hold her friend that had a heavy deal of internal affairs. ”... I'll always be here for you ...” The fawn lynx murmurs under her breath, following his gaze into the heavens that twinkled with stars and fireflies. He seemingly never allowed many to get close to him emotionally and she had heard a vague mention of his past mate, but she never pried for more information. Sometimes, doors were best left closed than opened.

The silence falls upon him and all can be heard is the gentle breathing between them without exchange of words, nature's ambient a reminder of where they rested together. As solitude embraces them, Pale quietly cleans his coat as she removes any nature debris stuck in his thick coat. Quiet purrs rumble from his throat in happiness to help her friend in some manner, rasping her tongue between his ears to flatten an upward tuft. It flattens for a moment before sticking up slightly once more, an eyebrow raising slightly as his words tickle against her ears. ”... Mm, correct ... It's more important for you to rest ...”

Palemoon states simply, allowing him to rest into the comfort of her wavy and small frame as she quietly seeks out any twigs, leaves or anything else stuck in his dark coat. She had finally got a hold of him this time, and she would make sure that his coat was thoroughly groomed before he made another step anywhere else. Hopefully, one day, Duskpool learned to care for himself more just as he cared for his family and everyone else.