[Brilliance]

Originally Posted by Beau

@Constellation
(Not all of my replies to this RP are going to be this long XD I’m just feeling inspired right now cause I’m sitting by the pool <3)
Dovecoo lay stretched out in the clearing, enjoying the sunlight as it’s rays washed over her. A dull aching feeling emanated from her injured shoulder and she let out the occasional whimper as a particular painful jolt coarsed through her. Back in her warrior days Dovecoo never would have made such a noise, but the spoiled life of a forever queen had changed her. Despite the short amount of time since she was last considered a warrior, Dovecoo had become accustomed to a life devoid of pain. Honeythistle spoiled and protected her and the snowy queen lived a (usually) contented life. She could handle the occasionally sharp pangs of longing that drew her towards hunting or battle practice, the remnants of a different life. She always felt a slight twinge that pushed her towards that life, but Dove had learned how to push that down.

It was days after the battle and the white feline’s shoulder had stopped bleeding, but Dovecoo thought she could still taste the metallic blood when she groomed the fur around the slowly healing scar. Such a small wound would never have affected her so much before her drastic lifestyle change but, her soft new life had changed her pain tolerance. Memories of the battle flooded her mind and made her shiver. It had been particularly hard on Honeythistle. One remnant of her earlier life remained in that Dovecoo was more worried about Honeythistle then herself. The thought of her mate made the pristinely groomed queen sit up and look around. She didn’t see the healing silver tom and flopped back down with a sigh. Dovecoo was antsy for Honeythistle’s return because she desperately wanted to go on a walk. She’d been cooped up in the nursery and clearing ever since the gathering battle and needed the feeling of the forest around her. However, her pregnancy was, obviously, drawing further along and her distended, and growing, stomach suggested to Dovecoo that, very soon, Honeythistle would no longer allow her to leave the clearing. He was protective enough as it was and the day would come soon when he would deny her request to leave on the grounds that she was too pregnant. Then, after the kits, he wouldn’t permit her to leave as often either because she would need to be in the nursery looking after them. A sneaky voice in her head told Dovecoo to just go on a walk by herself, but the new Dovecoo knew better. It wasn’t that she wasn’t necessarily allowed to leave camp, but it would worry Honeythistle if he returned to camp and couldn’t find one of his mates. The battle had let her see a different side of Honeythistle, and while she wasn’t afraid of him, the white queen was more cautious about disobeying him. She didn’t want to hurt him, anyway, so why disobey him at all? Thus, she had formed her own set of rules that she called the “Honey pleasing rules” that were meant solely to make him happy. One of them was that she wouldn’t leave the camp without asking permission and if he’d like to accompany her, especially not while she was pregnant. So, Dovecoo sighed again and awaited the return of her mate, hoping that he wasn’t too tired to be persuaded by her request for him to join her on a walk.

[Sitting by the pool does sound relaxing and inspiring!!! ]

For the first few days after the battle, Honeythistle stayed to himself. He was rather groggy and ill-tempered considering an old scar wound had reopened, sending him shocks of pain. He couldn’t change expressions because of the fresh wound. The tom was too prideful to see Daydream because he didn’t think the medicine cat was useful for anything. His family loathed such cats. To put short, Honeythistle would rather fall to his death than to be treated by a Starclan-forsaken cat. Instead, he allowed his wound to real heal on its own. It didn’t take long for most of it to restitch itself since he only laid down to recover as fast as he could. He relied on his eldest sons to care for their mothers until he was able to do it himself. Now days later, Honeythistle was up and moving again. Albeit more slowly. His face still hurt, but in a couple more weeks it would be like a kitten’s wound.
Currently, Honeythistle padded out the warriors’ den, head down, his nose twitching every now and then. He ignored the other warriors aroun, which was no surprise as he done it often. Honeythistle was more concern about eating because he felt he hadn’t been able to keep anything down in the last few days. Recovery was slow, but it was healing. The tom approached the fresh kill pile, grabbing a scrawny mouse. He looked up to find a spot of solitude. Somewhere he can sit and eat quietly without being disturbed. However, his gaze caught site of white, sparkling fur. Immediately recognizing the queen to be his mate. It’d be nice to spend time with Dovecoo. Maybe she’d be able to make him smile. It was a speciality of hers. Honeythistle padded towards the queen, eyes drawing her form until it was a memorized picture in his head. The event of the battle was a bitter thought. Especially considering Thunderclan started a fight. Honeythistle didn’t care about Shadowclan and Thunderclan fighting - it was the fact that one of his mates was there! His pregnant mate among the chaos! The thought of that Thunderclan she cat harming Dovecoo and his unborn kits made him angry inside. Naturally, he done his role in protecting her. He wanted to kill the Thunderclan she cat. Perhaps, one day he would if Starclan gave him the chance.
For now, all was forgotten. When he looked at Dovecoo, she seemed to be fine. A little restless, Honeythistle noted when he squinted his eyes at her. The silver tom dropped the mouse by her side, and proceeded to wound himself around her, licking her cheek, despite the shock of faint pain following along. “Hi, Dove.” He greeted, affectionately before laying by her side with the dead mouse between his paws. All sudden thoughts about eating it became hesitant ones, so he pushed it over towards Dovecoo. “Are you hungry? Did you eat?” He asked. She wasn’t only eating for herself anymore. She was eating for a litter - for how ever many kits would be born! So, even if she wasn’t hungry, Honeythistle would had felt more at ease to see her gulp down the scrawny mouse. For himself, he would eat later.