no angst LOVE ME, I LOVE YOU — MINI-CEREMONY

── .∘°°∘. ── //please wait for @SUNSTRIDE :)

As Ellisif, he had attended two official celebrations of lovers, and at the time, had envisioned himself standing in that thawed meadow with the white-capped peaks surrounding him. He had not envisioned the face of his would-be partner— his mind had shied away, yet not so greatly that he hadn't imagined a flame-traced silhouette. He could not have known he would find himself in a different meadow, not far from WindClan's camp, flowers tucked hastily in his fur, Sunstride across from him. He has not seen him smile so gentle and genuine in Wolfsong's direction for so long that it is a gift. He could think of none better, save for this sharing of new oaths.

In the land of their birth, this was intended to be an ordeal with moons of planning. The families would collaborate closely, arranging a feast for the celebration-goers and meticulously hunting for flowers, feathers, and bright stones to mark the land. But this suits them better, he thinks. We have waited long enough, and we need nothing but ourselves and the soil beneath our paws.

They caught their first meal together not long ago: a rabbit, slowed by its plump belly, and they shared it between them on the moor, sides pressed tightly together. As he does now, Wolfsong had gazed up at him intermittently, warmed from the tops of his ears to the tip of his tail by the fervent tenderness of bright eyes. He knows better than to mistake him for a dream's mimicry. None could replicate successfully the tangible weight of his softened features, or the vibrating rumble of his laughter when Wolfsong struck him with a rabbit foot inadvertently.

The remnants of their meal now rest within a hollow their paws had carved together, mounds of dirt poised at the fringes. He licks his lips, the thrum of his heart keeping pace with the flit of songbirds chasing each other high above their heads. "Remember me," he begins, and though it is a recitation of what he has heard and committed to memory, it is dense on his tongue. His throat is abruptly hoarse from the trembling effort to give voice to each syllable.

"I remember you," comes Sunstride's reply, and he does not miss the slight waver to that typically steady ring.

Wolfsong clears his throat, reaching out to guide the soil over the rabbit's remains. He finds Sunstride's stare once more and his breath swells in his chest, lungs caught by his ribs. "Love me." What grace he had managed to cling to deserts him, that sun-swept face blurring behind the burning springing up in his remaining eye.

"I love you." Without casting his gaze from Sunstride, he leans to paw another layer of dirt down the crafted slope. As it settles into place, so does he. And as he waits for Sunstride to begin again, everything is where it needs to be.
border2.png
little_elli.png
WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN ROGUE TURNED LEAD WARRIOR (MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING). 35 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC PARENTS. BIO, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge. — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know— he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel." — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you. — ☆☆☆☆☆ KITTING: He doesn't remember what it was like to be born. Coincidentally, that is the extent of his familiarity with kitting. At least he won't leave you without moral support.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you. — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
All those moons ago, this had not been a pleasant thought. To him, this ceremony was a tether, a weight upon his chest meant to keep him in line. His father spoke of a fitting mate and strong kittens, and his belly had curdled at the thought of a molly stood across from him, some face that he did not know as well as he should. Though she was sure to be a warrior at heart, strong and capable and worthy of his respect, she would not be– this. Not to him.

Looking back, he knows that his leaving had been some final rebellion. He spoke of a life they would make together, a world for the two of them. Even then, he should have known. Stupid. It was not for pure intentions that he took them away from their homeland, but how quickly his love for the one eternally at his side had turned to selfishness. How easily he had abandoned him for little good. He loves WindClan. He loves these moors, and the friends that he has found upon them. He loves his name, and the future that seems to find its place before them. Like gray skies betraying a storm on the horizon, this crackling air had always guided him home. To Ellisif. To Wolfsong. What name they use does not matter. He knows him without, knows him whole and in parts.

Though they have grown on their own within this strange land, he hopes they have never grown too far apart to know this– as he sits with him now, and promises in a wavering voice that now, this, for eternity, it is meant with more than his heart. I remember you, he says, and promises a lifetime at his side. I love you, he says, and though his voice cracks with the joyful grief of having waited this long, he knows that his love is well-placed.

He pleads for its return though he knows he does not need to. "Remember me," he rasps. All that we have done, all that we will do; all we have been and will be.

And Wolfsong answers as if he knows just what is asked, "I remember you." He paws in another of their piles. A ritual nearly complete. One that WindClan will not understand, but one that he did not care to share anyway. A promise made between the two of them, with no others to press down upon him. His throat is tight and bound by the blurring of Wolfsong's gaze. Though he has held strong thus far, Sunstride cannot help but follow suit.

It nearly hurts to force the rest off his tongue. To know and to say are two different things. His heart sings with the knowledge that Wolfsong will return it when asked, yet so too does it fear his refusal. "Love me," the warrior asks, as if seeking forgiveness.

"I love you," is too easy an answer, and Sunstride barely manages to push the last pawful of dirt over the edge of this slope before he is surging forward once again, crashing into his sturdy form and sweeping into him like a tidal wave. Stupid, stupid, how had he waited so long? Never again would he restrain those words. Never again would he fear of a lifetime without him. Never again and forever all at once, his cheek to Wolfsong's, tears falling amidst laughter. Just as they deserved.
border2.png

  • ooc:
  • SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
    —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
    —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
    —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.

    sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
  • "sunstride" "wolfsong"
 



Much like Sunstride and Wolfsong, Heavy Snow had been born in the mountains. Lack of prey and constant dangers, however, had driven him and his parents, his family, to escape to the moors. They were long gone now, already aged when he had been born and tragedy after tragedy taking his siblings from him until only he had been left. For a long time, he wandered the moors alone. Until he met Sunshine, that was. He knows what it is like to love so fiercely, like these two young lovers before him did.

He did not mean to intrude on these two, but it was much harder to be alone within the confines of WindClans territory then one would think and he happens upon the two just after they had finished speaking their vows. Having caught the tail end of it he dips his head to the two, eyes shining and a warm smile upon his lips. "May StarClan grant you two have many moons of happiness" he says, his words genuine. It was a nice feeling to watch love blossom in front of you in such a way.

 
( 🐍 ) Just like Heavy Snow, he had only gotten to hear the final bits spoken by both Wolfsong and Sunstride and he tilts his head briefly to the side in curiosity though he could feel a smile forming on his maw. It was very sweet and warmed his heart, the dark coated feline feeling utter happiness for his two clanmates. It must've been a nice feeling.. Being in love like that, it made him wonder if he would ever find that type of relationship or close bond within Windclan. It was silly to think about, the tips of his ears growing warm at the very thought of it so he chooses to focus on the individuals in front of him.

"Mhm! ... Happy for the both of you," Venomstrike would say quietly with a light dip of his head, his words true as his short tail started to wiggle behind him as if to prove that he was genuinely happy for the new pair.
( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )
 
  • Love
Reactions: WOLFSONG
It’s easy to forget sometimes that Sunstride and Wolfsong hail not just from the rogue-infested lands beyond their forest, but from a greater, more mythical place. Weaselclaw sits beside Heavy Snow and Venomstrike, his eyes shining keenly as vows are exchanged. The ceremony involving the placement of soil, of paws, is strange to him, and he finds himself baffled by it. What’s the point? Becoming mates with Sootstar had been easy enough—they’d known for many moons they’d like to be together, and once making it official, they’d never been apart.

He wonders, briefly, about the symbolism behind the mountain-hailing tradition, but Weaselclaw is not a ponderous tom. He dismisses any sense of investigation with a flick of a tattered ear. Instead, he follows the other warriors present, giving both of his co-lead warriors a genuine if small smile and murmuring, “I wish you both many moons of happiness and peace.


  •  
  • weasel . weaselclaw
    — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
    — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
    — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Oliver
 
————— ☀ —————
YOU ARE THE DAYLIGHT

Sunflowerpaw does not know much of the land from which their mentor hails, but the ritual with which he and Sunstride pronounce their love carries gravity all on its own. They've not heard of such a tradition; mates in WindClan, it seems, were a far more simple affair. Not that Sunflowerpaw could claim to understand; they care little for romance themself, undistracted by the puppy crushes which plague the other apprentices.

Still, this is different. They're happy for the two of them; it seemed only right that the two should be together, for as close as they've always seemed. It might have been official long before then, and Sunflowerpaw thinks it would have changed very little. Though they have no words to offer, they give the pair a small smile. Happy for you, just as Venomstrike says.
YOU ARE THE NIGHT
————— ☀ —————


  • //
  • SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
    — they/them, 7 moons.
    — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
    — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most. rarely speaks.

    primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
  • "SPEECH"
  • 64267309_IEuvGOmxnhCCLcz.png