Quote:
Originally Posted by Beau
Cloudstrike's own eyes narrowed playfully as Honeythistle crouched, almost daring him to pounce. A play fight sounded like fun to the kit-like feline, and she saw no reason why they couldn't. However, it must not have been on Honeythistle's mind since he didn't take action. Cloudstrike forgot about the prospect soon enough and meandered around the den to find the perfect spot, which she did. Honeythistle clearly didn't approve, by the looks of the face he gave her. The snowy queen ignored it and continued to gaze lovingly at her little spot. "Absolutely," Cloudstrike replies with a smile, "I'm positive!" She grinned with amusement and rubbed up against Honeythistle with a purr. "Are you doubting my knowledge of living areas?" She teased before heading over to survey her spot. It was uncharacteristically flirty of the innocent molly, but Cloudstrike only understood flirtation as being nice for the sake of being nice. Occasionally, her happiness caused her statements to sound flirty, but anyone who knew her knew that it wasn't really flirtation since she didn't know what she was doing. The little weed caught her fancy and Cloudstrike knew for certain that it made the little spot perfect for her. Honeythistle followed her and surveyed it himself, making Cloudstrike smile. Surely he'd come around to see it the same way she saw it! Honeythistle suggested using all of her proposed supplies and Cloudstrike let out a 'squee' noise and purred, "Ooh, yes!" Her tone was excited and happy, retaining a kind of kit-like wonder that always shone in her eyes. It was shining at that moment.
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Honeythistle was still rather baffled about her choice of nest. He rolled his eyes to the side at her affirmative answer. She was positive that she wanted to sleep here, so when she rubbed up against him, Honeythistle trailed after her like a lovesick apprentice. As she explored her little area, the tom flicked his ears at her teasing. He smirked,
“Not doubting, dove. More like questioning.” He feigned a smile, but he had agreed that she could make her nest here. Not like it was his choice anyway, so after he walked around the spot, inhaling in its scent, he asked her what she wanted; Moss, ferns, flowers. Honeythistle turned, making his way out the nursery.
“I’ll get some ferns, you fetch some moss.” He tells her. Later, they would choose the flowers. He didn’t know what type of flowers Cloudstrike wanted in her den, so maybe finding a wildflower patch would help her decisions. Knowing Cloudstrike, Honeythistle figures she would choose an entire rainbow of them. Afterwards, as he walked among the camp, a solemn grin on his face, one of complete seriousness, he didn’t even bother to acknowledge his clan mates. Like a silver bullet he dashed along until he wandered near a fern plant. Sure, he didn’t know much about herbs or plants, but he knew ferns were soft. As he gathered some in his maw, the tom thought about Cloudstrike. The beautiful queen made home in his mind a lot often. When earlier he claimed her to be his mate. He thought about the surprise look on her face, for he didn’t let her on. He didn’t ask her. He told his mother that she was his mate. He didn’t know why she was surprised if she knew this was coming. But, as he furthermore continued to think of one of his lovely queens, he couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that her name haunted him.
Cloud...
strike. It sounded so...masculine for such a work of beauty! You’d think she were a tom if you haven’t seen her elegant form. So, Honeythistle came up with the nickname Dove. And, it stuck. To him, he didn’t want her to be Cloudstrike anymore. Honeythistle gathered as much ferns in his maw as possible before he started to make his way back to the nursery.
If only she could be my dove forever... when he bowed his way to slink into the nursery an idea struck him. Now, he knew exactly what he would discuss Cloudstrike while they were constructing her nest.