ONCE IN A LULLABY ☀︎ ROEFLAME

[freckleflame]

there’s something about the nursery that soothes her. something about early kithood, something about comfort and instinctual love and the gentle scent of milk thistle wafting light at her nose. there is a blue light filtering in through the bramble, casting a powder - tinted halo against the fresh moss underpaw. if she imagines hard enough, she swears she can hear the phantom purr of queens long before them. it makes her think of little wolf, curled in aside her father and so she speaks — a low, soothing rumble of a thing, wispy at the edges where nostalgia burns rosied memories into her skull, ” do you remember that time burnstorm got assigned t’ clean out the freshkill pile? it was.. whew, it was rank by then. i d’unno what he did to deserve it, but i caught him pickin’ out this nasty old mouse. a couple of apprentices gathered around to decide what to do with it, but it was him that had t’ touch it. thought it was funnier than anything, back then..“

she doesn’t know what sticks out to her about this memory, but it does ; roeflame’s familiarly spotted coat, built even smaller then than she was now but no less rowdy. silken swathes of chocolate silver, leanly muscled, she was no different than she was as an apprentice, save for the fancy title and growing family. orange and cream - ribboned paws weave red - petaled primroses into rosetted fur because being a queen was hard, and roeflame already looked set to pop at any second. crazy how fast that happened — crazier still to see it in a molly her size. freckleflame liked to think she’d be suited for it, if she were able at all. she could dream, ” that was th’ first time i seen you give him th’ time of day. knew you were grossed out by the mouse, too. i seen that face! but y’ stayed to poke at him with us, and i remember thinkin’ huh.. how about that. “ it had been her favorite past time, poking at burnpaw. still was.

roepaw had been a pawful, and frecklepaw had been right after her ; she liked to think it did that stoic burnpaw good, in the long run. she folds a bright stem into chocolate dusted fur, the stem bending awkwardly and prompting a low puff of a curse beneath her breath. freckleflame was no riverclanner — her talent for weaving was shoddy at best, but she’d seen shinebug do his little flower chains long enough to know how to tangle a flower. her paws were just big, regardless of how gentle they leave the flora looped in a lock of silver fur. a smile graces her maw, soft and lilting along with her easy hum, ” if you’d told me you’d be carryin’ his kits back then.. i’d’ve thought you hit your head ‘n that water, maybe had some minnows swim in your ears or somethin’. “ the accident, right before. she remembers flycatcher’s patrol returning, drenched apprentices and frightened eyes. she brushes down a lick of fur, then pats her paws on the moss underfoot with a done motion. the apples of her cheeks push upward, crinkling the corners of sea green eyes. queens did have a glow about them, huh? ” now look at y’all.. y’know, i asked him about names when y’ first got together, just joshin’ him. he looked at me like all of starclan just opened up right in front of him. “

she remembers it well. a stunned but brief silence — littlekit, he’d said. or shadykit. it wasn’t her place to say, and so she doesn’t. instead, she looks down at the remnants of petals and stems at her paws, primrose pinks and coppers, ” i bet y’all are real excited. “

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

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  FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. EIGHTEEN MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING COUGARPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS --------------------------------------------
  
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! each and every part of her is broad ; wide in everything from her face to shoulders to her feathered tail, something reminiscent of her father’s kittypet heritage in the square of her chin and hulk of her figure. she appears illusionarily fluff - ridden at first, thickly pelted in shades of fire and soot, long & tangled, knotted with undergrowth — seeming soft and pudgy, and she is.. that figure curving into hard, hidden bulk along heavyset flanks and well - muscled limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers.
  

  prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.

  
  

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[ROEFLAME .]

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-

It’s all so strange, this new chapter.
She isn’t used to sleeping alone, or busying herself with preparing her nest instead of taking the lead on patrols. She hadn’t even been settled in the nursery for a quarter moon, and already Roeflame was finding her acclimation difficult- a challenge the tabby queen hadn’t anticipated.
Freckleflames presence is a sweet comfort, different from Burnstorms. Her mate had been going above and beyond for her, as he always had, but the brindled warriors company had an odd way of making Roeflame feel more attached to her old routine, her clan.
Normally, the Queen did not trouble herself with decorating her pelt, the only thing she had ever adorned herself with being that piece of a dogwood tree, and Roeflame hadn’t worn that in a long time. Still, when her friend presented the blossoms to her, Roeflame couldn’t refuse.
Now, she lets rosetted shoulders ease under Freckleflames diligent weaving, listening to the tortoiseshell speak with a relaxed smile and half-lidded expression.
do you remember that time burnstorm got assigned t’ clean out the freshkill pile?
The question draws cinnamon brows together in momentary thought as Roeflame sifts through memories from her apprenticehood. When it finally comes, her muzzle breaks out in a grin coupled with an eager nod, curious to see where Freckleflame was heading with this.
that was th’ first time i seen you give him th’ time of day.
Now, the scarcity of the nursery swells with the queens own light laughter, a shake of her head.
”Thats right! Stars, it was right after the poor guy dragged my dumbass out of the river… I was so worried Flycatcher would make me join him.” She hums, a giggle on her tongue as her pupils flick upward, far away for only a heartbeat.
The first time saving her life out of many, the irony.
Roeflame is brought back to the present when Freckleflame reminisces about the time she had blindsided him with kit talk, and the Queen snorts.
”We danced around each other for so long… though I think I knew what I was feeling long before he did. When we finally were honest with each other, I suppose the idea of kits seemed like such a far away thing.” She muses, watching as Freckleflame finishes her work, a soft-intentioned forepaw reaching for one of the petals now lacing her silvered pelt.
I bet y’all are real excited.
The sentiment brings Roeflames gaze to Freckleflames for a moment before clicking to the petals her friend fiddles with.
Half-mindlessly, Roeflame reaches for one that remained whole, one that burned crimson in the middle but washed to a baby soft pink.
Despite their difference in size, Roeflame makes the reach to place the blossom behind Freckleflames ear, nestling the stem within fire-kissed tufts so the flower stuck out from the side. ”The excitement is there but to be honest? I’m also absolutely terrified.” Spoken lowly in velvet, as though a confession, Roeflame withdraws her forepaw, looking back towards the scattered foliage. ”I never had a… real parent growing up to look up to. She pauses with a small shrug. ”I already know Burnstorm is going to be the best, I think sometimes I’m just scared I won’t be good enough, not like he is.” It feels odd to admit such a thing, but also like she had just lifted a weight from her heart.
Celadon optics force themselves back to Freckleflame, her expression sheepish for a heartbeat. ”It’ll be fun to name them, though. I’ll need suggestions, you know.” Running towards the nearest lighter topic, Roeflame pointedly quirks a brow in the brindled warriors direction, adding an emphasis to her heads-up.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── SHE BLOWS OUTTA NOWHERE ⋅✴⋅ ROMAN CANDLE OF THE WILD ──┐‎

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  ROEFLAME ✩ she/her, Lead Warrior of Thunderclan, twenty-one moons.
  ⭃ petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
  ⭃ mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Foxpaw, Lightpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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