THE NICEST CURLS ↷ [ HALFSHADE ]

[smogstar]

The adoration he harboured for Halfshade resists easy definition. In her, a fortune of qualities beckon to his heart and command unmitigated affection.

Be it the fairness she treats him with, a simple kindness not dispensed by most who call ShadowClan home. Her doting gaze glosses over all the faults that are readily pointed out, instead laying eyes on the mind within. She unlocks a vulnerability which oft stands guarded, and yet it's a vulnerability he welcomes fully. She imparts upon him nothing but gracious attention, and his core swells with love for her because of it.

Be it the sultry lilt in her laughter, the outright beauty worn in her bicoloured fur and physique, or the fierce vigour which drives her every action. Be it the frankness of her words, her virtue of being unafraid to put a voice to her judgements, even in the face of contrasting norms or dissent. Be it her unwavering commitment to him, her loved ones, and her beliefs over all else. Be it the very fact she completes him in every possible way; she brings his entirety to a perfect culmination, and in that, she makes him want to be a better person.

Smogmaw interprets his utmost attribute to be his deftness in introspection. He can effortlessly separate himself from sentimental biases, such as his true-hearted devotion to his beloved, and critically analyse his own actions, sometimes motivations. And yet, even in the face of neutral self-analysis, he finds a profound interconnectedness between his growth and Halfshade's influence. The impact this molly has left on his existence cannot be understated. She is a gift cherished beyond measure. She is the crucial thread which weaves him whole, and without her, he would surely unravel.

Though a blessing in nigh every regard, the advent of their kits has constrained his time with her. No longer do they sleep in one another's company, let alone share it for more than moments at a time. Smogmaw misses his mate. He misses her more than a fair bit. Their moonlit conversations, their offerances of fresh-kill, their tender pauses amid the chaos of clan life. He longs for her touch, her warmth beside him, her whispers in his ear. He wants her to chase away his uncertainties again.

It is today, when the sun casts long shadows into the camp, drawing the kits from the nursery and out to the hollow for play, that Smogmaw elects to bridge the naturally-formed gap between him and his mate. Ashen paws drag across muck made dry from Greenleaf, anticipation ripe in his steps, and before long he verges on the nursery's immediate vicinity. If his kits call out to him from his ankles, he does not hear them. The totality of his attention is fixated on the cream-and-midnight strands nestled amid the nursery's brambles.

"Halfshade," he would murmur when he finds her, nudging his cheek into her luscious curls soon after. "Can I spend some time with you? I miss you, and I miss you a lot." ​

 

[Halfshade]

When she made the decision to be a permaqueen in the nursery she did it under the expectation she would be in charge of watching lost kits and assisting in kitsitting on occasion. What she did not prepare for was having to watch Forestshade's kits as if they were her own constantly because that girl couldn't stay in the nursery for longer than a few moments, it was a wonder she even stuck around long enough to get them weaned properly. She's irritable a lot lately as a result of it and though she does not dislike watching Starlingheart's brood specifically, odd as they were at times, she took personal offense to the tortie running off without so much as a word most the time. Discussing it with Chilledstar was out of the question, they would probably not do a thing and let their former apprentice continue to be a menace.
The torbie queen is sulking, for lack of a better word, curled in her nest and gazing wistfully out of the mouth of the den to the dark shrouded camp beyond her reach when her view is unceremoniously blocked without warning. A snort of displeasure escapes her befroe realizing who it was. Their deputy and her beloved mate.
Smogmaw visiting was not uncommon though much more sporadic as of late, but what wasn't so common was his immediate fixation on her and the almost pleading manner with which he greeted; thankfully the kits were sleeping and their tiny hearts would remain unbroken from him blatantly ignoring their presence. This was perfectly fine, "Of course!" Her voice rises in a shrill falsetto, pleasantly surprised at the question but more than happy to indulge it. The kits were napping and someone else could burden themselves with keeping an eye on them for the time being at least. She rises to stand gracefully, tail flitting upward to curl upward into the air in a question mark as she steps gingerly over the nest to brush into his side with an affectionate bump of the shoulder. "A walk then maybe?" She asks, though she is already moving to the den entrace with the occasional pause to glance back expectantly for her blue tabby escort.

The literal moment they are free from the confines of the camp, and assuming he had not protested the swiftness of their leave, she broke into a quick trot; the fresh air of the marshlands filling her lungs once more.
"...I am already sick of this nursery." She says suddenly with no real build-up nor warning to it. She had spent a long time coming to the decision to stay in the nursery and keep her nose out of clan politics and other things; content to enjoy the time with her kits and assist the other queens (several as there were) but she had been waiting for the day her own litter were apprenticed only to realize it was finally time and right around the corner. This was the moment most queens returned to duty and if she stuck to her guns she would remain in the den without them. The more and more she thought on it the more her paws grew restless and the urge to get back out of the camp wore down on her with each passing day. Could she really be content on the sidelines?
"The kits are being apprenticed this moon and I just..." Halfshade's tail lashes, struggling to put into words her frustration, "...I thought I was fine staying but there's so many kits now and I want to get out of camp again and Forestshade keeps wandering off constantly-! One of her kits is blind and keeps leaving the den and getting lost in camp, the other one bites..." It was petty complaints on the part of the kits, but it had all begun to pile up.
"And I miss you too, I want to patrol again and go hunting and..."
​