private So loved and so lonesome ❧ Doeblaze


Guilt is an emotion Flora is intimately familiar with, she has danced with it frequently since her daughter was two moons old. She doesn't think she will be entangled with another, no other feeling grips her, attached to her like a shadow. She curls up on the long fraying couch of her Tweolegs. Body wrapped in gauze and bandages, saved the humiliation of a cone but she knows that to be a looming threat. She keeps from everyone in the house, Ditto included, nights are spent wandering when she has the time. Whenever she's not sleeping away the ache of the physical pain in her chest she's fighting off the phantom pains in her heart. Claws dig into the rough fabric beneath her, tears flow and shouts of damnation flow from her maw. There are some days where she rants about how she should have done it, it wouldn't fix anything but maybe things would hurt less if Kite were dead. There are others where she attempts to repent from those outbursts, begging StarClan for a chance to try and fix things. Can they even hear her out here? Is their grace not reserved for a kittypet out in Twolegplace?

She slowly reaches a cold acceptance in her slow ongoing recovery. It probably came after her bandages were changed, that she can't truly fix anything. It happened under her nose and she was too blind to notice, that she is a fool and she should just accept that. Use this to prepare for in case Kite came back, to finish what she couldn't before after giving them ample warning. To help make the clan stronger, so everyone knows where her loyalty is. To focus on those she actually loves, she thinks of Doeblaze and her friends in SkyClan. Ignoring the pang in her chest at the implications that she doesn't love her ex-mate anymore. Because that would be just too easy wouldn't it? She wishes she could have it easy, isn't this her birth right? To have a cushy life, she waits for it.

Tonight is no different, Flora sniffles as she stares at bleak food. Medicine hidden between wet chunks of meat, not herbs like Fireflyglow's, this is some kind of liquid. The taste is bitter but she acts as if she can't smell the difference once she wills herself to actually eat. The miserable affair of self care is cut short by the sound of something knocking against the window pane, there couldn't be a tree branch that's done it. Her fur bristles and curiosity finds the better of her, stretching her body to jump onto the windowsill brings another sharp hiss of pain. Wounds stretching with her, hopefully nothings torn. As her paws greet the sleek surface of the windowsill her thoughts of pain are erased entirely.

"Doeblaze? It's late" she trails off, looking up beyond the scarred warrrior to the moon above her. Framing her head like a halo, a gentle moon beam highlighting the lighter parts of the SkyClanners fur. It makes it a little easier to see her, the nights prior have been dark and dreary. "What are you doing out here?" She projects her voice to be heard beyond the glass, chords crackling as she exhausts herself to make any sound other than sobbing for the past week.


  • @DOEBLAZE
  • m2N73tg.png
    FLORABREEZE 𖧧 She/her || Daylight Lead Warrior of SkyClan || 39 moons
    A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can
    Mentored by Sorrelsong /Mentoring Daffodilpaw
    "Speech", thoughts, attacking
    Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}
 
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Chill nips at her nose as she drops from her latest sill and cuts through one of Twolegplace's side streets yet again. Asking around with the daylight warriors had yielded a fair notion of where Florabreeze spent her time outside of the pine forest, but clearly her navigation skills aren't what they used to be, at least where Twolegplace is concerned. No matter. It can't be that far.

Moonlight filters through the clouds and meshes with the synthetic orange buzz of the occasional flickering streetlight. A light snowfall presses cold touches to the ragged tips of her ears, collecting in a dusting of frost on her shaggy pelt. It's cold, but she can't stand the thought of one more night camped out in her nest, wondering if Florabreeze is okay. Wondering how she's doing. The idea of one of her friends left to her own devices, surrounded by beings who couldn't understand her, in the wake of such a betrayal … it's downright unthinkable to the tawny warrior. At least when her other friends were hurting, she could find them simply by ducking under the hazel bush.

Another sill and another glassy wall. When she peers through the shining surface, her eye brightens and then dims at the sorry sight of Florabreeze slumped over a bowl of kittypet food, swathed in foreign white bandages. Shaking out her snow-strewn pelt, she lifts a paw and gives the glass a resolute smack. It takes a moment, and then she's face-to-glass-to-face with her tabby councilmate.

" Hey, Florabreeze. I know, " she acquiesces ruefully. Certainly, trekking through Twolegplace at night wasn't her best idea … then again, it had turned out their biggest threat wasn't in Twolegplace at all. At the thought, she tears her eyes from Florabreeze's face for a moment to survey the tabby's well-wrapped wounds. At least Twoleg medicine was still reliable, and reliably confusing, amidst all this mess.

" I just … " she trails off for a moment, looking at Florabreeze, really looking at her. The ragged quality of her gaze, the cracked nature of her voice, the strange Twoleg remedies she's decked out in. I wish I could have done something to stop this. But none of them had been able to stop Kitestorm—hell, none of them had even known what Kitestorm was—until it was far too late.

" I guess I just wanted to see you with my own eye. Make sure you were holdin' up okay. " Her words are accompanied by puffs of steam, bright clouds against her backlit figure. She pauses. " Are you holdin' up okay? "

A silly question, under the circumstances, yet she can't help but ask it.

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