- May 5, 2023
- 541
- 228
- 43
❝ SUNFLOWER, CAN'T LET YOU GO ✿°.✦ ————————————
It's nice out today, Bobbie reflects, laying in a neat curl of limbs in the camp as she often does now, since SkyClan is so fierce about keeping queens in camp; not that she's complaining about it! She's honestly lucky they were willing to take her in at all—Bobbie forces herself away from the thought, knowing from experience that letting her paws follow that mental path leads to dank caves where she wanders, dazed, creatures with milky white eyes stalking the framework of her mind. She casts her gaze about the camp for something to think about, the mingled scent of the nursery and the hollybush outside forming a pleasant soft sharpness—she's pretty sure that makes absolutely no sense, but it's how it smells to her. Bobbie's large green eyes roam over the small clumps of cats gathered within the camp, appraising their appearance with interest rather than judgement. One thing she's noticed here is what a talent the forest cats—SkyClan, she corrects herself—have for decorating their pelts with the fruits of their territory. Much of the Clan is decked out in one thing or another; their medicine cat apprentice wears a colorful, pretty (in Bobbie's opinion) assortment of leaves, a butterfly, and a feather. Several cats have on vibrant kittypet accessories, and many more flowers; a cream she whose name just escapes her wears a gorgeous, fragrant assortment of blooms, and one sour-looking apprentice wears blooming purple mounds and (rather morbid, she thinks) whole dead moths.
It makes the queen feel a touch unadorned, sometimes. She's scared of leaving camp sometimes—her still-tender scars don't help—and even if she were to, she has no idea how to find anything to wear in her fur. Bobbie has no clue how to identify or find, much less place, any of the beautiful, sweet-scented decorations her new Clanmates have located. Privately, as she's seen some cats frowning on seeking out physically beautiful things, Bobbie yearns to have something of her own like that; sure, she has her collar and her funny clips she wouldn't trade for the world, especially as they're her last reminder of her, but it's not exactly the same. Also, honestly, it'd just be nice to have a bit of nature; she's always adored seeing it when she went outside with her Twoleg, and while she feels immensely safe in the camp, she misses seeing the flower buds and dusky clouds with an unfiltered view. Oh, well, she supposes, she doesn't know how to do it, and Bobbie is much too self-conscious to actually ask anyone.
It's nice out today, Bobbie reflects, laying in a neat curl of limbs in the camp as she often does now, since SkyClan is so fierce about keeping queens in camp; not that she's complaining about it! She's honestly lucky they were willing to take her in at all—Bobbie forces herself away from the thought, knowing from experience that letting her paws follow that mental path leads to dank caves where she wanders, dazed, creatures with milky white eyes stalking the framework of her mind. She casts her gaze about the camp for something to think about, the mingled scent of the nursery and the hollybush outside forming a pleasant soft sharpness—she's pretty sure that makes absolutely no sense, but it's how it smells to her. Bobbie's large green eyes roam over the small clumps of cats gathered within the camp, appraising their appearance with interest rather than judgement. One thing she's noticed here is what a talent the forest cats—SkyClan, she corrects herself—have for decorating their pelts with the fruits of their territory. Much of the Clan is decked out in one thing or another; their medicine cat apprentice wears a colorful, pretty (in Bobbie's opinion) assortment of leaves, a butterfly, and a feather. Several cats have on vibrant kittypet accessories, and many more flowers; a cream she whose name just escapes her wears a gorgeous, fragrant assortment of blooms, and one sour-looking apprentice wears blooming purple mounds and (rather morbid, she thinks) whole dead moths.
It makes the queen feel a touch unadorned, sometimes. She's scared of leaving camp sometimes—her still-tender scars don't help—and even if she were to, she has no idea how to find anything to wear in her fur. Bobbie has no clue how to identify or find, much less place, any of the beautiful, sweet-scented decorations her new Clanmates have located. Privately, as she's seen some cats frowning on seeking out physically beautiful things, Bobbie yearns to have something of her own like that; sure, she has her collar and her funny clips she wouldn't trade for the world, especially as they're her last reminder of her, but it's not exactly the same. Also, honestly, it'd just be nice to have a bit of nature; she's always adored seeing it when she went outside with her Twoleg, and while she feels immensely safe in the camp, she misses seeing the flower buds and dusky clouds with an unfiltered view. Oh, well, she supposes, she doesn't know how to do it, and Bobbie is much too self-conscious to actually ask anyone.
// @YUKIO