maybe this is the start of a bon voyage | mystery symptoms


Tiredness was locked into her limbs, an unusual companion. Daisy Flight was certain she had slept enough, even sneaking in an extra nap before she embarked on her hunt. Shoulders hunched like a windswept tree, her slow pace led sleepy paws between fronds and branches. The forest was a buzz, prey busy beneath the morning shade before the sun's full height bore down its hot rays.

Absently, the calico acknowledged the curled tip of her tail bumping along the foliage behind her at an angle. With a huff, she pulled its full feathery length back in. Perhaps it was a lack of food? Making such a racket certainly wouldn't help if that was the case. She had found it difficult to muster up an appetite recently- the thought of eating tugged nausea to the back of her throat. So odd! I like food... Another sigh swept across her cheek, speculative pout held for a heartbeat before she shimmied her joints into cooperation and began to take things more seriously.

After a few minutes of stalking, haunches low and mismatched ears sails in the breeze to scoop up any noise, Daisy Flight found her prey. The quaint, sunrise-flecked form of a squirrel twitched along the base of a tree. The wide trunk was flanked by balls of tightly clustered white flowers that bobbed in a syncopated rhythm. She paid them no mind, positioning herself to bolt for the critter in an easy, practised manoeuvre. The calico hesitated for a breath, then shot off.

Limbs spurned the earth, grass blades shredded beneath unsheathed claws. Slit eyes tracked the squirrel as flashed up the ivy-woven bark, and Daisy Flight twisted to follow. Suddenly a thick, choking scent flooded her nose. Pollen smothered her senses- a clot that slowed her movements. Desperate now, to end the hunt and shake off the tickle in her nostrils, she plunged up the tree and made to snatch the squirrel's tail in a quick bite.

"Oh- Ravens! A-aa-choo" The quiet struggle was broken by her panicked cry, hind legs weakening as a shuddering sneeze itched up her throat. It all culminated in her tumbling off the tree trunk, the squirrel escaping out of view. Incredulous frustration flared, she hadn't missed a pounce so spectacularly since she was a kit! What had gotten into her?

"What is wrong with me? I can't eat, I'm tired- and now what? A flower's pollen gets in the way of my hunt! This is ridiculous." The rant bounced off the surrounding pines, petulance strung between her words. Her pride in ordinarily being so put together had scattered to the wind, ears flat against her skull. " I know how to take care of myself... I don't understand..." Musings tumbled from her downturned maw as she stomped away from those damned white blooms.

/ @Mink will be the one to propose a pregnancy, but no need to wait for them to reply first!

Red watched with growing frustration as the she cat in front of him continued to miss catch after catch. His red colored tail flicked furiously behind him as he dug his claws into the dirt, trying his best not to say anything, to be patient. But it was taking every ounce of self control he possessed to hold his tongue. He knew the she cat was a former street cat, but that didn’t excuse the poor display he was seeing in front of him now. He knew plenty of kittypets who had shaped up to be excellent hunters! And besides, he had seen Daisy Flight hunt before. She had never been this awful in the past. “Bad day?” He asks, trying to keep his tone light and playful. His own catch lays between his paws, a mouse that he had expertly stalked and dispatched or at least it had been an expert catch in his opinion.

“I know you can take care of yourself but if you’d like you can have my catch. I can just go find something else” he says with a shrug, nudging the fresh kill towards the she cat. He of course didn’t want her to injure herself what if this new bought of clumsiness was caused from a illness of some kind? Besides, his father had always taught him to be kind, and to share what he had with others. Perhaps she should just take the prey and go rest? He sits carefully on the forest floor, curling his tail around his paws, waiting for her response.
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Mink was slowly getting used to living out in the woods among the wild cats. In all honesty, it wasn't nearly as scary as he'd first thought it would be. He'd expected many of the cats to look down on him since thats what most of the clans were rumored to do, but to his surprise most of the welcomes aimed toward him had warm and genuine. And maybe it was because he felt truly welcome, or maybe he was just so excited to being doing something at last, but Mink had been doing well among the other Skyclanners.

He wasn't the largest or strongest cat in a spar, but he was fast and surprisingly quick to dive into an offensive position, which could work well for him until it didn't. Many cats were caught off guard and overwhelmed by his his wildness, but after the shock wore off his larger eopponents usually gained the upperhand. And he could hunt to, a skill brought over from his time as a stray in twoleg place. Mice and birds were easiest for him, but he'd almost caught a squirrel the other day, which had lifted the pretty tomcats spirits quite a bit.

Standing beside Red with watchful blue eyes, Mink observed the shecat as she went about her hunt, his own catch - a finch- clasped in his jaws as he waited for her to bring in her own kill. Only, that's not quite what happened.

As he made his way over to the shecat to make sure she was okay, he couldn't help but overhear her frustrated venting. Placing his catch at his paws he would chuckle and attempt to also lighten the mood with a joke- though in restrospect, maybe he should have been a bit sharper. "I dunno, Daisy. Are you sure your not expecting kits or something?" he joked, because of course it was meant to be a joke. How was he supposed to know..?

male - 22 months - skyclan - homosexual - single - siamese mix - has a british accent


The petty anger simmered into a hot embarrassment as she acknowledged the cats behind her. She hadn't been aware they were so close. Daisy Flight was capable, and very much enjoyed that part of herself. To be caught so out of sorts wasn't ideal. Soothing ruffled patchwork fur and letting her ears perk back up, the molly turned to her audience. "Aha, I'm sorry you had to see all that. Seems that way Red!" Her voice matched his, an airiness that scarcely betrayed her mortification.

At the nudging of his mouse towards her, however, she had to contain a flinch. So pitied, that he would offer her his prey? Lids snapped shut on muted green eyes, keeping the affronted expression at bay. Kindness- it was only kindness. The molly's past struggles with reputation bit at her, when appearing strong meant staying safe. Those moons have passed, she reminded herself. In as steady of a tone as she could muster, she responded. "That's very generous of you, but it's your catch. Perhaps I'll look for something a bit older, slower. Or just walk off this odd mood I'm in."

Mink's umber-dipped frame sat beside Red. Tired, bemused eyes took him in as he spoke. "Are you sure you're not expecting kits or something?" A dull thrum knocked at the back of her consciousness, a warning. It went ignored. "Ha! Unlikely, could you imagine?" Confidence was back, bold in her throat. "I mean, how would that even..." Raven Ramble. Panic frothed in a haze, swarming her memories. If colour could drain from her pelt, it would be as white as a full moon. The forgotten advice ground out by a wise, slow-spoken queen marred with scars was printed abruptly to the forefront of her mind. Talk of tiredness, a lack of appetite- nausea. Daisy Flight certainly felt that last one.

"Surely not- no? Oh. Oh shit I might be."
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Blaise can't help but overhear the conversation. He flicks an ear in sympathy at Red offering Daisy his catch, but he understands when she refuses it. One's ego has to be protected too, although he does not think it should at the cost of one's belly being full...

Mink suggests Daisy might be pregnant, and the blue calico's face falls. Blaise tilts his head at her, a frown plain on his face. "Is... that not good news?" His tone is low. He is curious about the father of these kits, but he knows better than to ask, especially after hearing the exasperation in her voice.

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"Is... that not good news?" Perhaps it was. So caught up in the way this- possibility- tied her forever to the man she had intended to leave behind, Daisy Flight hadn't considered what a boon it was. Her swirling gaze, chartreuse uncertainty, floated past Blaise. Visions of kits, tufted pelts mirroring her own, tumbling from soft nests hollowed her lungs for a moment. Family, proper family, hadn't been an aspect of her life since kithood. With no siblings to speak of and parents that left early on it had been normal. Fresh longing ambushed her, the loneliness after cutting ties with Raven Ramble sharpening in her gut. The calico was well acquainted with caring for another and having no outlet for that stagnated her happiness somewhat. Love to give, as they say.
Furthermore, what else would she do in the coming sun cycles? Just lounge around and catch prey, help around camp? Raising the next generation would fill that call for fulfilment.

Tepid, greenleaf air thick with the scent of the forest seeped between her parted jaw. The sun-dappled leaves above her held a new lustre, bright on their layered swaying branches. She was now surrounded by relative safety too. Trustworthy cats, even a nursery; a much more comfortable environment to raise young compared to her old home. The molly still felt a growing trepidation however the determination to face it was mounting. Kits! Not what you'd expected to get out of this morning's hunt.

"No, I think it might well be. A pleasant surprise." Contentment laced tighter with every word, warmth reflected back to their leader's concern. "I suppose I'll have to make use of that nursery of ours, since I'm no longer fit to hunt" An apologetic side glance was shot to Red and Mink. The prospect of being cooped up for so long wasn't particularly appealing, but she had enough understanding that soon she'd only be in the way. Speculative chores to pass the time began to line up neatly in her head, the planning had already begun. All of them lacked a dark-pelted figure. He was unimportant.
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