Quote:
Originally Posted by Beau
Cloudstrike giggled gleefully as Honeythistle responded to her teasing, the glee coming more from finding a lovely spot to live than his forced smile. Cloudstrike busied herself with using her tail to swipe some extra dirt away to the sides, making level the space where her nest would sit as she called out different substances to Honeythistle. He suggested getting the ferns himself and Cloudstrike getting the moss. Cloudstrike chirped an affirmative answer and pulled herself out of the little nest spot to skip into the clearing. Purring, she flicked Honeythistle's shoulder with her tail and flounced past him into the territory. The two went in two separate directions, him to find ferns and her to find moss. Cloudstrike floated through the forest like her namesake, singing nonsense softly. Her mind was not on moss and she must have passed multiple little patches due to her constantly shifting thoughts. The distinct feeling that she was meant to be doing something reached the snowy feline and she had to stop walking and singing in order to try to remember. Finally, an image of moss came to her and she hopped to her paws, searching carefully for the soft green substance. Soon enough, Cloudstrike found the springy substance growing about a tree's roots. Using her claws carefully, the alabaster she-cat stripped the moss from the tree and gathered it up in her jaws to carry back to camp. This time, she didn't wander, and made it bacck to camp farely quickly. The molly didn't see Honeythistle in the clearing, but found him in the nursery soon after. "Hi, Honey!" She purred around the moss before dropping it. |
Honeythistle set the ferns down, his ears twitching at hearing Cloudstrike greet him. When he lifted his head, his whiskers twitched with amusement. It had occurred to him that every time he seen her, even if he had been away from her for a few seconds of the sun’s light, she always say
Hi, Honey! So sweetly, so fondly. It was like she was greeting him for the first time that day, and it made him chuckle slightly. He stared at the moss on the ground, nodding at it before looking back up at her.
“Hi, Dove,” The tom greeted softly, acknowledging the fact that she called to him first, so he did it right back. His were more in a teasing purr, however, and as he picked up the ferns once more, brushing past his mate to go to her chosen spot,
“You ready to start this?” His teeth was clenched onto the substance, so his words came out slightly muffled. He was ready to help build her nest, then go fetch soft flowers for her to sleep on. Vaguely, he recalled a silver tabby molly, who was a poor excuse of a warrior in his opinion, but that was another story. He didn’t know her name, but she built her nest out of petals. Honeythistle wondered if sleeping on flower petals was as soft as the molly made it look. Shaking his head, Honeythistle glanced at Cloudstrike. He needed to focus on her first. Nosing the ferns in place, the tom surveyed the area once more, contemplating a plan on how Cloudstrike wanted to start this. From earlier, he mused about the crazy idea of her name. Now, that thought was still there, faintly brushed aside. Yet, it would appear again once he put himself to work.
“So, I was thinking that we decorate your nest with flowers after we set the moss and ferns into place...?” He eyed her, curiously, as if waiting to see what she wanted to do first.
“Unless you want the flowers now, we can go fetch some.” He says, calmly breathing. The thought of wondering what type of flower Cloudstrike favorited flew through his mind, but it was gone now because he figured he’d know later, anyway.