THE WORLD THAT WE’RE BUSY BUILDING / romance ??

[LAKEMOON]

✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - She still aches from the battering of Windclans raid, a harsh reminder that everything was still raw. The grief, the pain- even with the not so comforting thought that they were lucky to have only suffered one casualty.
Riverclan was breaking, chipping away and losing pieces of itself.
Melancholy thoughts flicker in her mind one after the other as soft pre-dawn light spills it’s milky light through the entrance of the still half-broken down warriors den.
Until, that is, something stirs from beside her nest. Bitter eyes flutter over to the sleeping form of Lilybloom, the molly that had been consuming her thoughts this last quarter moon, the one she had pined after for so long.
The pining was over now, although the bliss was painfully short lived before moorland rats had come crashing through their temporary camp.
The majority of the clan hasn’t even awoken yet, meaning Lakemoon had some free time on her paws. Time to do something for the only piece of light in her life at the moment.
She’s up and out in only a couple of heartbeats after the idea struck her. She couldn’t give Lilybloom nearly anything she deserved in a materialistic sense- but the blue warrior could try.
And hour later, and a jaw cramping from carrying around the small bundle of barely bloomed flowers, she makes her way back into camp, careful to avoid Lilybloom before she’s ready to give her the carefully thought over gift.
The bouquet was nothing special, as they were still riding out early newleaf, but Lakemoon could only pray to the sleeping stars that the pretty brindled warrior would like it. Small fern leaves marked the outer part of the bundle, the inside filled with half-opened blossoms in a variety of colors, and in the center a beautiful yellow blossom Lilybloom was bound to recognize.
She seeks out her mate, sudden nerves sparking in her paw pads as she draws closer. Lilybloom has her back turned to her, and hesitantly Lakemoon catches her attention by tapping against her back heel.
When Lilybloom would turn, and the moment Lakemoon was cast under those enchanting green eyes, she’d swallow nervously, placing the bouquet at her mottled paws.
❝ These flowers are.. for you, because you’re- erm, you’re my flower. ❞ An unseen sight to any onlookers, Lakemoon tripping over her words. Quite obviously out of her element, she finishes her choppy but genuine statement with a sheepish smile, all she was able to muster against her cheekbones, which were ablaze. Stars… am I actually making a fool of myself? She thinks critically. Shes worth it.


[ @LILYBLOOM. but feel free to reply before !]

❝ Speech. ❞

THE HATRED IN HER EYES​

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[LILYBLOOM.]

Although RiverClan mourns the loss of one of their own, they got off comparatively lucky. With how sudden WindClan's attack had been the number of casualties could have been higher, they could have lost more clanmates to StarClan, and there could have been more major injuries. Lilybloom herself was fortunate to walk away with only a few minor injuries from the battle, cuts and scrapes that although sore now, will heal in time.

She sleeps soundly that night, though she cannot claim to dream much. Her slumber is disturbed by a gentle tap against her back heel. Lilybloom lets out a little 'mrow' before slowly turning over. At first she is confused where Lakemoon is, so used to the silver warrior being next to her in their nest in recent days, but her confusion is short lived when her green eyes land on Lakemoon who had been waiting behind her with a bouquet of flowers. "Good morning," Lilybloom would mew softly, acknowledging Lakemoon with a warm gaze. She watched silently as Lakemoon leaves the bouquet at her paws, before making a nervous statement about how she had gotten them for her because she was her flower. "Well, the words need a little work but I appreciate the sentiment," Lilybloom purred, lifting her head to press underneath Lakemoon's chin for a moment. "The flowers are beautiful by the way. But not as beautiful as you my silver moon." A little teasing wink was added after this. If Lakemoon could come up with a nickname for her then so could she.​

 

[Riffleheart]

Wasn't it bad enough that the river on which they depended had driven them out of their comfortable camp? Surely their lives hadn't needed to be soured even further by the presence of WindClanners - Riffleheart swore he could still catch the reek of heather clinging to the edges of their hastily constructed, and now half-destroyed, dens. Surely the shabby surroundings were the least of their problems, but he couldn't help but be bothered by it, like a burr in his tail. RiverClan's territory - and camp - was beautiful, and newleaf was coming with her lovely emerald bunting and sun-gilding. How offensive that they were relegated to these lopsided dwellings, surrounded by beeches, close to the gorge. Perhaps he was just cranky because he woke up with a sniff neck, but still. It still rankled him just a bit to blink open his leafy eyes and catch sight not of the warriors' den they knew so well but of a temporary place of shelter.

Today, though, there was some sweetness to brighten his morning, brighter even than the dawn rays. The blue tabby grunted a bit in surprise as flower-scent drifted into the den, and he lifted his head, watching with interest as Lakemoon cautiously approached Lilybloom. Ah! the green-eyed cat realized, a broad smile appearing on his face. Love in the midst of it all. attempting to be unobtrusive, Riffleheart rolled over and rested his head on his forepaws, content to watch the scene unfold without speaking. It was good to see moments like these, he felt - good for one's spirit. These were the types of moments that made all life's hardships worth it, and StarClan knew RiverClan had seen plenty of hardship lately.​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

Seems the change of season brought about all sorts of other changes right with it. He's known the change before, seen his fair turning of seasons, but something about this one's a monumental shift. Some grand avalanche brought about by the melt beneath their paws. As nice as the thaw was, he's no fan of change. Even if this one is, like Riffleheart says, one of the kinder ones.

He doesn't mean to eavesdrop. He's far enough away not to draw immediate attention, almost so far as to miss it entirely, but their shared time back in the marsh had rendered the chocolate tom incapable of ignoring her voice. You're my flower. What? Houndstride makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder, catching the bouquet, and he immediately takes a few more paces away to fight off the wave of soft, distant disgust. (She'd always be Azalea, small and sharp. Now she's in love. How strange that is. She'd even beaten him to it, but was he really all that surprised? His taste in men's not really the greatest, and the idea of having that (love, a family, kits) leaves his stomach rolling over. Would they find a family of their own? Stars, but they'd grown up all too fast, the both of them.

Perhaps to cope with all these realizations, or maybe just because he's certain he can't get away from this situation without some sort'f a scene, but as soon as their soft words have melted away, Houndstride gags. Loudly and theatrically, carrying across the distance he'd intentionally put between them. "Now I think that's more than enough, the two'f you will make me sick if you keep on like that."

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• ──── houndstride. trans male, he - him - his pronouns.
  ──── over three years old. born late december of 2020.
  ──── bisexual but with a heavy masc preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

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[Skunkpaw]

Oh, this was super gross. Disgusting even. He was agreeing with his mentor on this one and the black and white tom stuck his tongue out as he feigned a gag. "Any sweeter than that and you'd make a bee vomit." Skunkpaw had no understanding of this mushy romance stuff, it was actually something he had no interest in at all or at least he thought he did. He spent most his time considering she-cats weird and wanting to be as far from them as possible.
He didn't often see his parents act anything like this, if they did he never witnessed it but then again he didn't witness much of them either, always busy with patrols and whatever else it was warriors did when they were unburdened by an apprentice. Not unlike Houndstride who was very burdened with an apprentice. Two in fact, and he was the second until Darkpaw became a warrior. Soon, he expected, the other tom was much older than Skunkpaw who sat at three moons as of now. It felt like yesterday he and Hazepaw were just roaming the camp as kits in the snow, untethered and unbothered by the world. Now they had boring responsibilities and equally boring mentors. Cicadastar was leader, which should be cool, but he was his mom's friend and thus it made him decidedly less interesting as a result. The mystery was gone, he was just Uncle Cada now, there was nothing very exciting about that as opposed to someone like his own mentor who was so weird. Why was he so weird. Skunkpaw thought him a strange puzzle someone had lost several pieces too but eventually he'd figure him out. Maybe.
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[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Eyes flicking back and forth with anticipation are quick to fall still when a purr rumbles in her mates throat. Miraculously, she is able to critic the silver warrior whilst still making her anxieties melt away- perhaps it was her honeydew voice, light and sweet, or the feel of her pressing affectionately against Lakemoons chin.
Either way, the scarred molly returns the tortoiseshells last remark with a sheepish lick on top of her brindled crown. "Not every one can be a poet as you are" she hums in return, amusement lingering in her playful retort.
Rifflehearts kind but watchful gaze does unnoticed, the gagging sound that erupts from her former mentor, however, does not.
Lakemoon’s gaze flickers away from the pretty tortoiseshell, and focuses on the grizzlier one just a few tail lengths away.
Lakemoon rolls her eyes, "It seems you’ve only gotten more dramatic with age" She retorts back to him, though they both would know all too well that her jab was good natured, her tone one you would use with an old friend.
His current apprentice speaks up from behind him and Lakemoon scoffs in Houndstride’s direction, "Oh stars, you’re spreading it!" She exclaimed, though her voice barely rose from her typical cooled tone.
"Don’t you two have puddles to jump in?"
Lakemoon settles down, pressing into Lilybloom as she prompts the duo before turning her full attention back to her mate, the question of breakfast on her tongue.
"speech"

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