MOVE ON, NOTHING'S WRONG ♡ FLINTWISH


Flintwish's disdain towards Smogstar has never been quite clear; Mirestar had noted a tense air between them, occasionally crackling under heightened pressure, but it had never reared anything obvious. Never did they hear shouts from the pair — but of course, one can still simmer with the unsaid, and sometimes that can lead to making everything that much worse. Flintwish has always been private... closed off like a tight little shell after his father's dastardly actions. Mirestar cannot quite possibly blame her, but they hope Flintwish does not harbor something untrue, like ShadowClan dismissing him for that heritage.

Chilledstar had the best idea when naming him as such. A hopeful glance towards the future... that things can indeed turn for the better, even if the present seems awfully bleak.

Mirestar specifically picks them for tending to the nursery alongside them. Finally, finally, Flintwish has found something exciting within the concept of family. What has been culled too fast and too violently — Ghostmask may still be alive, but Mirestar assumes that fact matters as much as the knowledge that Nettlepaw lies within the stars — is now going to expand and find new meaning. There is someone to protect now in the shape of Ashenfall... but still, Mirestar wants to check in anyhow.

They wait for the perfect moment; blinks at Flintwish while the both of them work on reorienting a fast-growing branch on the outside of the nursery.

"Flintwish..." they start, not quite knowing how to. It usually comes as second nature. This topic is delicate however, and Mirestar does not want to do more harm than good. "I thought it'd only be fair if I ask you: how are you?" They can only hope Flintwish understands the underlying topic; the one of ever-mysterious Smogstar.