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Post by immortes on Jul 10, 2024 17:29:33 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/E0jkCDp~png Sunset claimed the islands' heavens in broad swaths of amber and reluctant grays, announcing the onset of darkness across the forest and calling hunters back to their camp. Evening patrols would be setting out soon; while others came back to commune, share-tongues and eat dinner. Another day's work of healing for Mistclan, complete. A vole in his jaws, Smokegaze carefully navigated around the clustered mass of fur and tails surrounding the fresh kill pile. A tall order, given his overall girth and looming musculature. Though not quite as close-knit as say, Prairieclan, Mistclan preferred to cluster together, taking comfort in each other's company. As would be expected of a clan that reveled in tradition, Smokegaze mused, importance was placed upon the self just as much as those around them. Good. Unity was good for repairing one's kingdom after war. Only divided nations fell and nobody wanted to fall together. There was a yelp from below him; a tail trodden underfoot. He must've gotten lost in his thoughts again. Smokegaze, watch it with those towering legs of yours! You walk like a badger. Ah. His lips pursed at the acrid rebuke that floated up to him, but he had not quite reached the limit of his composure quite yet. After all, there was an image to maintain. Smokegaze shook out his mane of blue fur, and forced a polite grin on his face. No need to imitate a bow, and emphasize the height difference in the process. "My apologies. It's been quite a night. I'll be more careful next time." The blue tom left before further retorts were voiced, the molly's gaze boring into his back. Able to navigate Mistclan's maze of appendages without any further accidents, Smokegaze chose a quiet corner for himself and settled down to groom. A tired ache spread immediately from head to haunch, the visscuitudes of an active day pressing down on his body. Gracefully wetting a paw, he addressed his head first with long strokes as he surveyed the scene. How long had it been since he'd enjoyed the warmth of another pressed against him? Unbidden, Smokegaze's mind conjured images of Ashstrike sitting besides him. What would his brother be doing now? Surveying the social scene probably, making friends for the "family." Because that's how it alway was, right? For the family. Smokegaze bit down on the vole harder than needed. Very little remained of the family now; his parents were approaching the elder's den with every moon that passed and his niece and nephews were still missing. Only his sister - still a widow - and he remained in the prime of their age. He curled his paws in frustration; inaction was the bane of progress, shouldn't he be on his paws, looking, searching for his sister's kits? Anything, anything, better than to sit here helpless. His head perked up as a smoky female voice encroached upon his conciousness and the tom quickly sat up to see the towering, dappled form of Oriolemask gazing down at him expectantly. The blue-furred tom quickly cleared his throat. "Ah, Oriolemask - good evening. Come sit, there's space for two." He gestured politely, shifting to make room. "What do you require from me at this hour?" He gave her a skeptical and analyzing look; the she-cat did come from a promising family, a line of assidious Mistclan warriors. Had Swanflight sent her here to him? Smokegaze hoped not; he was not feeling particularly romantic or accomodating at this time. "If you were searching for me, far be it from me to beat around the bush, right?" |
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Post by owl on Jul 17, 2024 13:35:38 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/z7kpPyN/oriole~png | oriolemask
an eye for an eye, a leg for a leg
a shot in the heart doesn't make it un-break
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And just earlier this day, Nightfeather had told her that she'd spoken to Swanflight, mother of Smokegaze. And they'd decided together that they might be a good match. "Expect to be approached by him within the next few days," her mother had said. "Swanflight said she would speak to him about courting you. I wanted you to know that I approved." Now, Oriolemask didn't know much about the tom other than that he was Irisfrost's older brother and that he came from loyal Mistclan parents. She decided she would have to change that, before their mothers got too far invested in the idea of them being together.
Now, her mother was old fashioned. She would not have liked Oriolemask seeking out a suitor, much rather just sit and wait until he came to her. But she was going to do this on her own terms. She didn't want Smokegaze to see her as a molly he simply had to win the favor of. If they were to be mates, it would be equal. He would respect her, and in turn, she would respect him. They would work together as a team. She didn't know him well enough to know what his romantic history was, but knowing he was from an old family and had been a bachelor for so long... she couldn't help but wonder if there was a reason he had no mate yet.
She hoped, instead, that he was just like her. Maybe they could come to some sort of agreement.
Except most things didn't come that easy. There was a reason she hadn't taken a mate yet, and it was because she didn't want to. Toms had approached her and attempted to woo her before, but she'd never found their company very interesting. She'd never wanted to hold a conversation with them, much less raise kits with them. Back then however, she had time on her side. Now, the clock was ticking. If she wanted to tell her mother no to Smokegaze, she would have to find out whether they were compatible or not quickly. But she'd brushed Nightfeather off before... it was only so long before her mother put her foot down.
And so she had to view it as another duty to her clan. She had waited long enough... it would soon come time for her to grant Mistclan a litter. Just as her mother had, just as her grandmother had. It was not something she had to enjoy, but at the very least she would like a partner who aligned with her beliefs and would respect her boundaries. She hoped to Starclan that Smokegaze could be something like that—frankly, she would much rather find a tom she liked and wanted to start a family with. She knew at this point that wasn't going to happen, so she had to settle for a cat she could at least put up with.
"Smokegaze." It was evening when she found him, dark grey coat blending in with the dusky shadows in camp. He had a vole at his feet with a large bite taken out of it. She hadn't eaten yet, but she did not expect him to share. That vole could barely fill one of their bellies, much less both. She moved to sit next to him at his invitation, while still leaving a generous whisker-length of space between their bodies. He seemed nice enough right now, but she could tell questions lurked in his eyes—her suspicions were deemed correct as he asked her what she needed of him. A sigh slipped from her lips.
"I wanted to speak with you," she meowed, voice somewhat stilted as she forced the words out. As if that wasn't obvious, what with her approaching him. She was not a liker of pleasantries herself, but she'd hate to ruin her impression with the tom by not being polite. "If you were searching for me, far be it from me to beat around the bush, right?" A sliver of surprise quirked her brow before quickly dissolving into relief that she wouldn't have to engage in forced conversation. That's one thing we agree on. I might as well respect his request not to beat around the bush.
"I have no doubt your mother has told you," she started, trying her best to school her face into a more pleasant expression. She failed, but at the very least a frown was her usual look. Smokegaze likely wouldn't suspect how opposed she was to having to seek him out. "That she has been speaking with my mother. And I know you know as much as I that each of our mothers have both been looking for a proper match for us for a long time," she took a breath, voice still airy with manufactured nonchalance, "and it seems to be that they have settled on pairing us together." Her gaze returned to his, yellow eyes a blank slate. "And I would like to know your opinion on the matter." |
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Post by immortes on Jul 24, 2024 14:22:19 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/E0jkCDp~png Evidently his obliging temperament was well-liked. Oriolemask's expression slid into surprise before quickly returning to a neutral facade, like the wind rippling the surface of the pond. A faint spark of pride burned bright beneath his pelt. As a kit, Smokegaze witnessed how the other Mistclan kits carried themselves with grace and dignity. He resented his mother for the lessons she bestowed upon him at such a young age, but the results spoke for themselves. There was a fine line to walk when in gentry company; too harsh and you were crude, uncouth; be too gentle, and your company would surely shout, drawl and speak over you. It took the better part of four seasons for him to master it, occasionally rewarded in between his duties with the chance to woo a she-cat. All the better while in the company of one as exacting and assidious as he. A tailchaser he was not, but he did think himself a gentletom. "Smokegaze...wanted to speak with you." Certainty and confidence in every breath. Interest prompted him to lfit his head a little higher, cant his chin upwards. An ear flicked. "Anything, Oriolemask. Go on."Oriolemask had plenty to say, and by the very aura of her diffidence and awkward pauses, Smokegaze ascertained the nature of her message. But in her tremorings she displayed a rare sliver of honesty. This would not be a convivial joining, but a cold and unfeeling contract that reeked of politics and secrets whispered behind his back. Stars, how he loathed the politics for all its duplicity and double-meanings, as if he were merely a pawn to be moved on the board. "...no doubt your mother has told you...speaking with my mother. ...looking for a proper match for us for a long time... they have settled ... together." Now his own expression soured, a grimace puckering his jowels. Unwilling to reply immediately to this piece of news, he took a large bite of the vole, chewed, swallowed and only when his mouth was clear did he offer his response. "She's hinted at it, I figure. Once or twice in passing. I'm glad you're being so straightforward about this matter, Oriolemask. I presume you have kept this matter private, and not shared it with prying ears and eyes?" He didn't wait for her to respond to his rather officious demand before he continued, "To be fair, this should have been expected; we are nearly senior warriors, over four seasons old. One can hardly believe the things they say about senior couples, as if we're not just doing our duties as well. I am not one for courtship, as you probably can tell, but shall my conduct not match up to yours, feel free to let me know and I will strive for better."With his pseudo-speech over, he lapsed into silence again. Smokegaze analyzed her expression closely as he closed his paw over a spare thrush and threw it over to her. Self concious at the probing and artificial nature of her questions, he folded his paws stiffly, the silence forcing him to ponder upon the percieved loss of his autonomy. What was Swanflight thinking? With Irisfrost's kits still missing — and presumed dead — as long as dangers lurked in their borders, this was no time for kits in the nursery. And then he resolved himself, felt a spark of conviction. Oriolemask was someone he would tolerate, yes tolerate to satisfy his mother and hers — but his priority would lie with the missing kits and hidden dangers. Yes, until then. |
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Post by owl on Sept 7, 2024 14:33:23 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/z7kpPyN/oriole~png | oriolemask
an eye for an eye, a leg for a leg
a shot in the heart doesn't make it un-break
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At last, he replied. "...I presume you have kept this matter private, and not shared it with prying ears and eyes?" She had to hold in a scoff at what he was implying. He thinks me a gossip? Who else would I have told? He did not give her enough time to answer, continuing on with his low-toned drawl. Obviously he knows me not. Or perhaps knows me well enough to know that is a jab at my character. All he said was reiterating what she already knew. But he was right. Eyes were on both of them, not just those of their mothers. It wasn't like senior warriors never had kits, but most their age had already birthed and raised a litter. It was long-expected of both of them to settle down.
"You wound me, Smokegaze," she meowed stonily, as though her words were playful her tone was clipped, "Rest assured that you are the first I have spoken to." She knew that they were both only entertaining the idea for their mothers' sakes. It was evident that Smokegaze seemed perfectly content to not have the ties of mate and kits. She looked down at the thrush that he had flung her way, and felt her stomach turn at the thought of eating. Though she hated to admit her nerves, she didn't want to be distracted either. "Thank you." She made no move to consume it, but felt it rude to ignore his graciousness. Her gaze rose from the bird to study his face.
His expression betrayed little, as if he were made of stone. But she could see the shift in his eyes—when they changed from focusing on something far-off, thinking, then back to watching her. I do not need him to woo me, but I would expect him to impress me before I commit to him. As should I—we know nothing of each other. You cannot raise a family with a stranger. The smoke molly blinked slowly. "Should you not want this, feel free to tell our mothers that we will not be a good match. I want to know that you will put effort into this arrangement, for I would not want to waste either of our times." |
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