your hair will smell like smoke ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ laurelgrin

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ "Ah, Laurelgrin...!" trills Swansong, head lifting to meet his burning eyes. It is a ghost she sees at the mouth of the warriors' den. He looks so much alike their missing father, with his swirling blue stripes and molten eyes. Even his pemt, once well-groomed, is falling into a familiar sort of disarray. Her heart clenches at the sight, but she greets him with a smile nonetheless.

They sweep a paw towards the gathering of materials which they have carefully collected. "I was just freshening up my nest... Leafbare is coming, after all..." Fresh moss and down, only the softest of materials for the sweetest dreams. It is a familiar ritual, one which she takes great pleasure in.

She has noticed, of course, the disheveled state of her brother's nest. She has yet to comment on it, waiting for the right time - and now she catches the opportunity by its tail. "Perhaps... Perhaps I could... help with yours, as well? I have plenty of spare moss and feathers..." Her tone is airy and pleasant, sweeping herself up towards his own nest before waiting for a response.

‎‎┌── BUT NO ONE❜S REALLY THERE ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ DOES THAT MEAN IT❜S DONE IN VAIN? ──┐‎

• @Laurelgrin
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG ☾ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, eighteen moons.
  ★ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with droopy blue eyes.
  ★ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ★ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Laurelgrin]

He was about to pad the same trial he did so many times before. His paws always hitting the same patch of dirt it seemed. He couldn't lay in his nest all day, so instead he must hover through the clan like an ant, mindlessly completing each task asked of him. This habit is interrupted by Swansong. Recently it felt like she was following him.

Like a guardian angel to a reluctant non-believer. He both craved the love she was showing him and couldn't help but feel ashamed. That he needed to be coddled like a kit. To have temper tantrums quelled and affection gifted. He pictured Smogstar's steely gaze the night he woke the camp up with his howling. What would his father have to say about his babying?

He hadn't heard what they said, he blinked back into reality. Swansong's mouth had been moving but he hadn't caught the words. Something about Leafbare. He looked to see what she was carrying, moss and feathers, nest making materials. That must have something to do with it. He stared rather dully at his cream sibling. Waiting for something more.

It came, the something more. An offering of help. A paw reached in his direction, he heard it clearly this time. He didn't even need to bridge the gap himself, Swansong is upon his nest right away.

"I may need help." He says it quietly and before he turns to face the nest and Swansong. And while it's a response to the nest building help, it rings a statement true for other areas of himself as well. He turns to start pulling out the old nest, it was probably to stale to keep any of it.

"speech"
​