camp MARY, WHY DO YOU CRY? ; discovery

Her heart throbs in her throat. In, out. Bitterness washes over the back of her throat. In, out. Her ribs feel as if they might rattle from the frantic, rabbit-quick beats of her heart. In, out.

"Blazestar?" The feral racing of her heartbeat, the acerbic taste lapping over her back teeth, can be blamed on the familiar anxiety that makes her limbs tremble and her head spin. The fatigue that weighs down her paws, the roiling of her stomach that saps her appetite, the sleepiness draped over her like languid clouds each morning, cannot. She is no trembling young cat anymore; it does not take coughing up her morning meals for a half-moon to make her figure this out now. She only needs to feel that slight discomfort, that alien feeling creeping over her abdomen, and she awakens today with this dangerous premonition. "Could I—could I talk to you for a moment?"

She hates to pull him away from the clump of warriors he's talking to—her kind, gentle, trusting mate. But the drowsy mornings, the abrupt and alternate tides of hunger and nausea, the ever-so-slight thickening of her waist snagged by her own painfully experienced eye. She barely waits for the pair of them to be a couple fox-lengths from the rest of the clan, tucked near the freshly reinforced wall. "It's—I have something to tell you." Her throat is dry and stinging when she swallows, and something more than nausea is stuck in her throat.

"I'm pregnant," she nearly whispers. Bobbie watches her mate with wide, frightened eyes searching every inch of his face, legs locked as if to flee. There will be joy, eventually, regardless of the outcome—but now, it's fear that washes over her. A primal, feral, clawing fear that sinks its teeth deep. The fear of a cowering, cornered animal, left for dead. The heart-wrenching fear that once again, she will have spoiled everything. That when she wakes in their nest tomorrow, she will be all alone in the snow.

// talking to @BLAZESTAR but not a pafp and no need to wait! feel free to have your character overhear......or eavesdrop >:)


"speech"

 
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With the hectic atmosphere and cats buzzing every which way, he had little time to focus on any nearby conversations. Granted the occasional nap and patrols with comrades, but beyond that was nonstop movement. His mind moved far faster than his own paws could ever dream to carry them. When he returned from a rather fruitless hunt, the scarred tabby had walked past the chattering warrior's, blissfully ignorant of the world around him until he caught the familiar voice of Bobbie.

It was shaky and filled with distress, causing him to immediately turn an eye to her and Blazestar. Unaware oin the complexities of the moment and more enveloped in his concern for the she-cat's well-being, he was driven to act. Dogbite wasn't a cat known to pry, let alone eavesdrop, but the raw fear in the moggy's tone was enough for him to push past those barriers. Upon standing hardly a fox hop away, he aimed to announce his presence, only for the intended words to die on their tongue. "I'm pregnant." He heard it loud and clear being so close, and shame lit like a fire across their pelt.

I shouldn't have heard that. The immediate thought triggered his anxiety and in turn flared up his awkwardness. Unceremoniously, the warrior turned and nearly stumbled over their own front paws. Catching himself at the last moment, he nearly raced away from the pair, pelt burning with embarrassment for tuning into such an intimate moment clearly not intended for his ears. Surely, the guilt and happiness would come later, but for now, he just needed a swift exit before some cat caught him snooping.

  • / feel free to have caught him in the act if not assume he is out!
  • ———✧———​
    ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
    ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
    ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
    ✧ 31 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
    ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
    ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
    "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
    ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ✧ penned by tasmagoric
    ———✧———​
 
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Figfeather is tearing into a scrawny piece of fresh-kill when she glances up just in time to see Dogbite nearly trip over his own paws. An invisible brow rises as she watches him practically sprint from one area of camp to another, his fur prickling awkwardly. It wasn’t totally in-character for the scarred ginger and white tom-cat, even as shy as he was, why did he act like he’d just saw a ghost?

”…Dogbite?” The red tabby calls to him, licking remains of prey from her maw. ”Whats with you? Looked as if you were running from your own shadow for a heartbeat.” Figfeather prods lightheartedly, peering in the direction he came from only to spot Bobbie and Blazestar murmuring amongst themselves.
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Mentoring Wolfpaw
    » Mate to Fantastream
    » Sire to Sangriakit & Coffeekit
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

Dogbite whipped past in a flurry of paws. He'd ran by too quickly for her to notice the expression on his face. Excitement? Fear? Why had he taken off like that?

"Are you... okay? Badgers didn't invade the camp or anything, right?" Pricklykit prodded. To be honest she'd never even seen a badger, so if they did invade camp she'd have no idea what she was looking for. But there were no out of the ordinary scents on the brisk breeze and the young tortoiseshell smoke hadn't the slightest idea of what could have sent him running. "Are we in danger?" She continued, raising up on hind legs to scan the scenery for anything lurking in the shadows behind Dogbite. Nothing. Maybe he'd just felt like going for a sprint; warming up muscles stiffened by leaf-bare cold.​

pricklykit // black smoke tortoiseshell with yellow-green eyes // she/her // kit // 5 moons // skyclan

 
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    orangeblossom | tags
    — she/her ; deputy of skyclan. mentoring springpaw.
    — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
    "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by waluigipinball
    — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
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The announcement of new kits to fill the SkyClan nursery should inspire a sense of joy within its deputy. However, as Bobbie's trembling meow reaches her ears, Orangeblossom's maw tightens in a grimace. Selfish. It's nothing to do with leafbare's claws gripping the Clan tight (though ordinarily that would play a part in her revulsion), nor does it have to do with the rogues that encroach on SkyClan territory more and more with each passing day. The scattered remains of prey turning to crowfood at their borders make her seethe with stress, taunting her like a call to war; and yet it is forgotten right now as Bobbie offers the information to her mate that she's pregnant.

The recoiling reaction of Orangeblossom's emotions stems wholly from the knowledge that Blazestar has one life left to lead them with. While this is not common knowledge, and she had kept the secret upon his request, he had been absolutely certain of it. The fact that he had sired a second litter knowing he was now just as mortal as the rest of them, yet so much a larger target for his name and his reputation as SkyClan's first and only leader ... it all makes Orangeblossom want to cover her ears and wail like a kit. She does not, loathe to make a scene and express herself in such a kitlike way, but the thought crosses her mind briefly.

Bobbie's kits - Crowpaw, Lupinepaw and Drowsypaw alike - had grown up without their sire in the picture. After Morningpaw's demise, Blazestar's own had been robbed of a parent, split between the Clans. Orangeblossom knows there's no guarantee that Blazestar would die anytime soon; he'd gone moons without losing a life in the past, and might just do the same again now. Perhaps this knowledge would make him actually stay safe, reducing the amount of grey fur that Dawnglare was likely to sprout while SkyClan dealt with their rogue issue. StarClan ... at the very least, she hopes he gets to meet his kits.

Orangeblossom stares thorns into the back of Blazestar's head, pausing just long enough that a perceptive Clanmate would see that she'd heard something she didn't want to. Her attention darts away, though a jolt of shock rolls through her as she meets Bobbie's gaze for a moment. With a flick of her tail she turns to exit camp, passing by the little cluster of Clanmates that question Dogbite - had he overheard, too? - and makes her escape.

// out!

 
His mate’s delicate voice intrudes upon swimming thoughts like paws splashing haphazardly through water. His name upon her lips is sweet and light, nectar on a flower’s cusp, but the tremor behind her voice causes Blazestar’s ears to flick forward with concern. Worry darkens the blue of his eyes until they are purpled, bruise-like. He faces her with what he hopes is a reassuring look. What could be troubling her—a foolish question to ask, really. SkyClan is plagued with rogues, with beasts who slink through their borders on claws bloodied with his grandkits’ torn flesh.

But her whisper is a confession, one that lights upon his fur like a stray ember… and ignites. “I’m pregnant,” she whispers, and the flame is fanned. “You…” His mouth becomes dry as cinders left in the wake of the inferno. And she is so fearful, her mannerisms tender and timid as the day they’d formally met. He searches the shimmering green of her gaze, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. She worries he will reject her, or her kits, he thinks, the idea piercing him like claws. Like he did.

His thoughts are distant, flocks of birds taking flight and aiming for cloud-littered skies. He thinks of a bitter leaf-fall day, Little Wolf strung between the border of his Clan and her mother’s, her distended stomach twisting. He thinks of Dawnglare hovering over her, of noses and tongues and paws guiding the first wet-nosed little kit, his little cream-colored face pushed-in and blunt. He remembers the tears that had sprang to the corners of each of his eyes, the way they’d burned as they twinkled there.

And then he thinks of her later, alone, curled into a leafbare-stale nest, the dappled pelts of two sons squirming feebly against her body. What had he been doing then, he wonders, as she had pushed their second litter into the world without him?

Resolution gathers in his heart, in his eyes. He does not notice those who linger close by—the patter of Dogbite’s fleeing paws, the squeak of Pricklykit’s inquiring voice as she asks Figfeather if the camp is in danger, Orangeblossom’s searing glare boring into the back of his skull. He sweeps his tail up and over Bobbie’s shoulder, aiming to pull her close to him. “My love,” he says, his voice falling into a rough, smoked velvet whisper. “You mustn’t be afraid. These kits will be… so loved. So, so loved.

Tenderly, he stretches his muzzle toward hers, aiming to bump against her soft brown cheek in a show of comfort. “These kits will be born knowing both of their parents. They will be born knowing their place in this Clan, and their hearts will never be torn. Never.” He thinks of Fireflypaw, of Howlfire, their beseeching eyes over the border, their pelts spiking at insults flung from distant kin, from littermates broken by the warrior code. “They will know only love from us, Bobbie. Only love.



, ”
 
*+:。.。 Orchidpaw watches as his mother power walks out of camp, her brown eyes, almost the same hue as his own, stormy with anger. Oh boy, who got her tail in a twist? Following her paw steps with his gaze, he finds a touching scene of Blazestar comforting a watery-eyed Bobbie. For a brief moment, he wonders if Bobbie and his mother had gone at each other, but he can't recall any particularly fiery drama between the mothers so that doesn't make much sense-
Then he hears Blazestar rumble the word 'kits' and his tufted ears shoot right to the sky. "Oh wow! Congratulations you two!" Orchidpaw chimes, figuring there was no harm in being loud about it since the two decided to have this adorable little revelation in a pretty public space. 'Sides, it looks like Bobbie could use a bit of confetti thrown at her with how hard she trembles at her own news. Could having kits really be a cause for anxiety?
Ok, dumb question. ORchidpaw had never thought about what it'd be like to have his own children, but the thought does send a nervous itch down his back. He can understand the anxiety, but Bobbie's already had experience with it, and she's got support on all sides! Though maybe not from his mom, it seems...HA - did his mom have a crush on Blazestar perhaps? Or Bobbie?! Orchidpaw snickers to himself at the thought, though the idea of drama that thick coming from the older generation is one he can't deny he wouldn't watch with his dinner!

"You should totally let me name one of them" he purrs teasingly, hoping to inject some lightheartedness into his interruption as he pads over, "You can't go wrong with 'Orchidkit', I'm just saying!"




  • GENERAL:
    Orchidpaw
    DFAB— He/Him — Unsure
    9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month 28th
    Skyclan — Apprentice
    Son of Orangeblossom and Ashenclaw
    Brother to Cherrypaw, Eggpaw, Glimmerpaw

    COMBAT:
    Physically medium | mentally medium
    Attack in bold #bf8924
    injuries: None currently