- Jan 22, 2023
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really, freckleflame could nearly trick herself into believing she’d been silly to worry at all. the fear of losing her began to fade with the days, berryheart’s desperation gave way to a warm neutrality and slowly, the molly eased into a tremulous wait. that wait became hope, became something entirely different — she knows it was serious. she feels it in her chest, her stomach, when her eyes close and she recalls the scene ; she remembers the scraps of bloody, ribboned flesh and fur that have begun to harden into the same rough scarring over her face. the molly knows, deep down, how close her friend had come to meeting the stars. loss still looms like a scolded dog, but wolfwind was alive — and life dangled fear over their head long enough for her to see. her friend, her dear friend, was blessedly alive. the words still didn’t seem able to incapsulate her relief.
it was like a dream, she thinks, still. the stars grant them second chances ; just as they had her father, guiding his paws home and dousing her grief in indescribable light. so she tries not to think of what could have been. she imagines it in a way they would spin for wide - eyed, nosy kits, not yet old enough to know they shouldn’t gawk : a tale of valiance, bravery. something less gory, with less tears, less fear. the mask of scar tissue wrapping around her skull, though, seemed to spark less worry in her now, and more of a bubbling warmth she can't place — glory had always suited the she-cat just fine. hard lines of life, experience written forever into the blue haze of her fur. scars were a badge of honor, pride. wolfwind recovers in shades of visceral pink, pink like the dawn, red - streaked skylines stretching over the curve of a brightlit face. where a pit in her stomach should be, something grows, blooming slick petals against the inside of her belly.
so, obviously, she was being super normal about the whole thing.
freckleflame ducks into the medicine den as she had since the day those patterns had been carved into her skin, the scent of poultice and cobweb heavy in the air, searching for a singular, sunset - heady gaze ; a familiar fire, stolen but never extinguished. exhaustion lines her eyes but so does a sudden smile when her vision clears and there she is — a wide, excited thing, baring teeth so far it aches in the apples of her cheeks. a titter of laughter when she shakes out a frosted coat, ” you sure picked a nice time t’ go fighting foxes. “ not a lilt, not a simper of the same low, nervous are you okay? how are you?s that seem to float commonplace from the stony walls. no — the molly prances in, right up next to herb - lined moss, making herself just as at home as the lead warrior had to. a routine, built from nervous pacing outside stony walls, keeping a watchful eye until consciousness found her friend fully, ” its colder than a windclanner’s heart out there. here, feel my paws — “
familiar, joining her just as she would have should the smoky she-cat had been lounging in camp instead of a reeking medics den, freckleflame flops onto a heavy side along the stony ground — shoving two forelimbs out towards the blue molly with gleaming emerald eyes, aiming to touch her spread, icy toes to whatever den - warmed spot of fur she could reach. it was almost kitlike, a bubbling lightness easing the ache of overworked forelimbs ; no serious stares, no quieted voices. she missed this ( what would she have ever done without it? ). she seems to soften — letting her paws bap aimlessly at her when she continues with a, ” y’had much company today? “ curiosity, a vague sense of protection she knows is unwarranted ; sidestepping a how are people acting around you? because was nothing to protect wolfwind from, certainly not her own scarring.
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i. @WOLFWIND TEEHEE……
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FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. SEVENTEEN 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! 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.
