Two Turtle Doves {P}

[Streamtail]

Streampaw
She/her female, fluffy white molly with bright blue eyes, Thunderclan apprentice.

Streampaw yawns, her delicate footfalls hitting the grassy forest floor as she looks for prey. She's been rather dazed as of late, there's been so much going on with her, most of it not really ending in a happy outcome. She hasn't been able to sleep much either, in fear of even seeing him in her dreams, no; nightmares. A quiet sigh escapes her lips, breath turning into a billowing cloud in the cold morning air. The lovely molly shakes her head, trying to disperse the burdening thoughts weighing her down so early in the day, it will surely hinder her thought process until she eventually falls asleep tonight. If she sleeps at all. Streampaw stops in the middle of a clearing, lungs burning a bit from the crisp cool air. Her ears perk as she picks up a scurrying under a tree root, a mouse? Yes, only about a fox-length away from her. Streampaw crouches down, her elegant form becoming more minuscule and compact as she inches slowly forward. Then, once she gets close enough... she springs forward, the mouse didn't have a chance; its fate was sealed as soon as she sensed it. The warrior-aged apprentice straightens, her prey hanging limply in her jaws. The sunlight makes her silky fur seem to almost sparkle, the sun's golden rays bouncing off her pelt. Her pelt, covering up all the scars she's received in her troubled life.


@lark.

[lark.]

Huckle
10 moons • outsider • he/him
scruffy tortoiseshell tom with long limbs, a nicked ear, and big brown eyes

It was a wandering day. The sun peeked through the treetops in a truly whimsical way, illuminating the bits of mist it had yet to burn away. The birdsong rang through the forest crisp and clear in the morning air, and Huckle's breath clouded before him as he strolled through it all with his usual rolling gait.

He caught the scent of a mouse on the wind, and found he could go for a quick bite. He began a lazy beeline in that direction. A few steps later though, a much more distinct scent stopped him in his tracks — a clan border.

He'd had quite enough trouble with the clans before, accidentally crossing a border here and there only to be chased out, oftentimes with rather vulgar threats on his heels, depending which clan he'd offended at the time. He had to hand it to them — they could be rather creative... if a bit morbid.

He gazed sadly toward the lingering mouse scent, long tail flicking back and forth as he contemplated the risk versus reward. It smelled like the mouse was only a hiar inside the border, if at all... couldn't he risk it, just this once? He'd outrun clan cats many times before, after all...

As was the trend with him, Huckle gave in to temptation. He trotted gangily forward, taking care to place his clumsy paws lightly. He came to a large clearing and peered out through a cluster of ferns, brown eyes flicking about in search of any dangerous "warriors", as they called themselves, that may be lurking about.

Just as he smirked in a satisfied fashion and gave himself the green light, a flash of white caught his eye. On reflex, he hunkered down in the shadows straight away, trusting his brindled pelt to keep him hidden. He watched, wide-eyed and alert...

...as the most utterly gorgeous, silky white molly Huckle has ever laid eyes on floated into view, like a particularly delicate cloud on just the perfectly sunny day. Never had there been such an exquisitely beautiful creature, Huckle knew without a doubt. In cruel spite of her pure, elegant loveliness, Huckle couldn't help but notice that she seemed quite... sad. Alone in the clearing, the blueness of her eyes Huckle could see even from his spot among the ferns seemed to be tinged with a bone-deep sorrow, one that perhaps she only let herself feel in moments like these, on her own in the forest on a sunlit morning.

The serenity of the moment that seemed to last forever and ever was ruined mundanely by a rustling sound. The beautiful cat pricked her beautiful ears, and moved into a picture perfect hunting stance. In just a few heartbeats, she stood proudly with her catch. Standing there in the clearing after a successful catch, her pelt glittered like some sort of vision. Huckle found himself positively staring in awe.

He had to talk to her. The urge came over him inexplicably, chasing out any sense of self preservation that should come with the distinct clan scent and the previous show of deadly skill. Almost as if his paws had a mind of their own, they took him stiltily into the clearing and he stumbled out of the cover of fern-cast shadows. Well, now that he was caught, he may as well make a decent impression.

He plastered on a crooked grin, head tilting to one side as he took a few steps forward. "Hey there!" he called cheerily. "The name's Huckle. I hope you don't mind giving me yours! It's really the least you could do after ruining my life..." he let out a huff of laughter. "I mean, it's only down from here, now I've met a cat so perfect!" He accentuated this with a wink, and continued, "Tell me, is it often you make such an exquisitely perfect catch, or do you only do it on days when the sun can make your pelt sparkle and complete the picture?"

@Streamtail // I hope this isnt too long or cheesy, haha... also, I do want to make a header for him like I have for my other character Blackfrost, but I was wondering if you think he should have a ribbon or neck bandana? or if you dont care... i just think it would fit him!

[Streamtail]

Streampaw
She/her female, fluffy white molly with bright blue eyes, Thunderclan apprentice.

The petite she whirls around as an unexpected sound reaches her ears, the sound of another cat's voice. The wafting scent of outsider is a secondary detail that she only notices when she turns to face him, as he was downwind of her. At first, momentary shock freezes her in place, her jaw becoming so rusted that -in the name of Starclan itself- she could not get it to open. A subtle blush rises to her cheek as she takes in his words, though she silently scolds herself for accepting flattery from a stranger, and an outsider no less. But she stamps down her original surprise and embarrassment, finding the will to speak just in time to respond to the tom's (whose name has been revealed to be Huckle) words.

"W-well, well, um..." She winces, realizing her stutter might make her seem much less intimidating then she would've perhaps intended, especially as she's apparently lost her grasp of common speech, "Ehem, you do k-know you're in Thunderclan t-territory, right? My name's Stre- oh."

Should she really give him that cursed name? A downcast look falls upon her features like a dark shadow as she's reminded of the unfortunate choice of replacement for her original, the burden it carries. She shakes it off however, a determined look returning to her face, a long-buried fire sparked in the embers of what was put out a long time ago. She'll just give him her chosen name, the one her mother chose for her.

"Lotus... my name is Lotus," She tells him, her soft voice ringing out through the clearing, "Though, I-I don't know how t-that's relevant, so what are y-you doing on Thunderclan territory?"

She's surprised at the steadiness of her voice, but she tries to play it cool, sitting down (completely ignoring his flirtatious comment about her hunting skills). As she gets a better look at him, however, she finds her cheeks once again hot as she takes in how handsome Huckle is to her. She attempts to ignore that too.


@lark.

(Nah, it's cute! Also, I think a bandanna would fit him really well, it's all your choice though, he's all yours now!)