love like you || pda

Sep 11, 2022

➵ It's nice to catch a moment of peace.

Everything has moved so quickly. Now this morning is slow. The sun creeps lazily into the sky, yellow beams stretching up over the trees.

Clearsight hasn't eaten (and he did try, but prey's been hard to stomach since watching someone he loved so much become prey). He forces his mind away from the thought and all the imagery it invites, turning instead to the man beside him, earthen-toned with lovely hazel eyes and hopefully a fuller stomach. Clayfur's voice feels like coming home, a rare constant through the chaos of the last few weeks.

It's nice to have the chance to just talk.

"...oh believe me, I asked, but he wouldn't say a word about how he'd gotten up there. Just kept clinging to the branch like his life depended on it." The blue tabby's voice is still a little hoarse with sleep. He blinks drowsiness out of sunlight eyes, chuckling at the memory of Fernpaw hanging from the tree. "Stars, you can't tell Mudpelt about this, the kid would never forgive me—"

They're exchanging stories and casual chatter in soft voices, Clearsight's own alight with mirth, sharing tongues a few fox-lengths from the fresh-kill pile. He pulls Clayfur closer to groom a particularly stubborn patch of fur, and he lets the licking turn into a nuzzle once he's finished, purring and brushing his cheek against the man's flank. Drinking in the safe, familiar scent.

A sigh of contentment slips past his lips, and he pulls back to finish the story. "He was just fine once I got him down though." Another purr, this one of fond amusement. "Going to be as wonderful a warrior as his dad."

He leans close again to touch his nose to Clayfur's cheek in a chaste kiss. "Or his uncle, of course."

Sunlight eyes meet hazel, searching, adoring. "And speaking of Fern's uncle, that dashing man—" there's a hint of mischief in his voice that sobers into warmth as he continues— "How do you feel about a hunting trip later?" Just the two of us, he leaves unsaid.

& we've all got battle scars ✗

// @CLAYFUR but anyone else feel free to respond! they are just being in love


Listening to the blue tabby tell a short story about his nephew, Clayfur thinks he’s never been more content. Despite all that’s happened recently, there’s nowhere he’d rather be than here with Clearsight. He rasps his tongue over a patch of slate blue chest fur, resting his head there for a moment. Listening to the steady beating of his heart, the comforting proof that he’s still alive.

Gold-flecked eyes are fixed softly on a striped face, a dopey grin stretched across his pale muzzle. He feels such affection for this man, it’s almost unbelievable. His heart is so full.

He listens to Clear’s voice rumble through his chest as the other warrior draws him nearer and grooms at his unruly pelt—that sleep-soaked voice is one of his favorite, soothing sounds. His love talks about the situation he’d found Fernpaw in, and it sounds like a predicament that’s typical for both Clay and Mudpelt. "Fern’s secret is safe with me," he chuckles, closing his eyes as he shifts carefully to lean into the other man’s side.

He’s glad that Clearsight had helped his nephew out of a sticky situation, and he purrs back in response. As the storm-pelted feline compliments both Mudpelt and Fernpaw, saying that the apprentice will surely make as great a warrior as his father, Clayfur allows his eyes to slip comfortably closed. They do snap open again, though, glittering with wonder when Clear adds him into the grouping with a touch of nose to his cheek. "You’re too nice to me," he scoffs fondly, breathlessly.

He stares into those honey-golden eyes, and it’s as though the world narrows down to just the two of them. No one else matters for a few heartbeats, as Clearsight speaks once again. Clay’s heart skips a beat—still always flustered, caught off guard by sweet words and invitations. "A hunting trip sounds fun. Really, anything sounds fun as long as my favorite warrior is there with me." A hunting trip sounds nice, a calming trek into the territory. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, thinking it will be only the two of them, but he can’t help but hope for no one else to join them.