Lost Creek Hollow permiso
Riverclan
Sharpfang*
820 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#1
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"it is almost time for me, querida," silvertongue murmured of her body and its dawning heat. of course, if anyone could tell, it would be @Wren. "i think ash star went off to seek a man," the sharpfang grinned with pride in the woman for finding her own way. and then she sobered; she looked seriously at her lover and covered the pretty paw with her own as birdsong filled the shadows of riverclan; "are children something you want?" truly — she had no intention of becoming pregnant again. it had been far too much ferocity for her, too much torment. she and crowfeather could be no more and akavir was married. she considered alaric as she waited for wren to answer, turning his handsome, grinning face over in her mind.
Riverclan
Star*
always an angel, never a god
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#2
!!!!!!!

yes, wren had been able to tell.
by now she was well acquainted with it, that change in mind and body; the sweet metallic undertone of her scent. it sent the warrior into her own frenzy, in a way; her body thrummed with a surge of protectiveness, attached at her lover's hip and thawing only beneath her warmth.
but these things came with a price. kids, wow, it was almost shocking to speak it aloud, sobering, like a plunge into ice water. her own season had come upon her in seasons past, and she had been lucky. very much so. she hadn't wanted them then. had never truly entertained the idea, until —
i feel like we should get married first, a crooked smile cracks the earnest face wren carries, half-serious. she shuffles, gaze averted to the dewgrass beneath them. are they somethin' you want?
Riverclan
Sharpfang*
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#3

marriage. she did not shy from it, not with wren. but perhaps she felt they were, in some way; the idea of gathering with the rest of riverclan pleased silvertongue, but butted up against her innate, now steelworked sense of individuality. "i was not a good mother before. and i fear shadowpaw will be hurt if i gave birth again." it would not be a do-over, but silvertongue knew how it could look. "besides. i would only be interested in akavir for that, and he is unavailable."
Riverclan
Star*
always an angel, never a god
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#4
wren listens, planting a soft kiss to the slender cheekbone of her lover's face. things are different now, though, the honey-brown eyes blossomed with thoughtfulness, toes dipped into the water of a life she had never before sought. you have me. they'd be-- ours, y'know? our own family.
but there was hesitation, still. wren pauses. i could adopt shadowpaw, if she wanted. i want-- if we want a family, she's included in that. the mention of akavir makes her shudder. and, like, we could go find a new donor together. someone who doesn't know us. who won't wanna be involved. akavir definitely would, regardless of eshe; wren did not want that. she did not even want to see him again.
there were options, possibilities; it did not have to be silvertongue who carried. they could carry together, if nature allowed. it did not have to be a man from riverclan, or even of the valley. but it left wren with a burning question, one filled to the brim with her own doubts. do you-- do you think i'd be a good ma?
Riverclan
Sharpfang*
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#5

"i do." her voice was bright, immediate; silvertongue had no doubts that wren, without her own hesitations, would nurture her children as the sharpfang never had done for her own. but it was even in that subtle shift between our and her that reminded silvertongue uncomfortably of the experiences she had tried to block. she did not want to be mother, she did not want anything that might alienate shadowpaw further. her eyes had softened at the mention of wren adopting the girl, but — silvertongue was still not her mother. was she? ash star had raised the young ones. she had only nursed them. "i think you will be simply increíble."
Riverclan
Star*
always an angel, never a god
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#6
i do.
wren felt her eyes sting with the glaze of tears, the muscles in her chin tightening. she thought of iris, in that moment; the big silversmoke eyes brimmed with starlight as they swore to never make the same mistakes. to never turn their teeth upon their own children.
and then it was of her mother; the beating of heart against ribcage, the smiles hidden out of sight, the tender arms and how it felt to be wrapped in them. and how often she forgot that she was, too, her mother's daughter; that she too could be lovely. that her hard edges could be blunt, that her love ran deep and wide and strong.
i think you're a good mother too, came the soft admittance. i see how you are with shadowpaw. you just gotta give yourself the chance, cara mia. maybe-- i think we both deserve one.
and for the record, now the warrior slung an arm lazily over silvertongue's shoulder, kisses peppered from temple to cheek to jaw. i think silvertongue aquilanera has a pretty nice ring to it.
Riverclan
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#7

silvertongue aquilanera. their tongues were similar enough for the sound of the names together to be pleasant; she nudged under wren's nose with a silly little smile that simply would not stop. it felt like wren needed this more than her, needed — needed something. silvertongue banked down the terror of motherhood once more and sighed. the acceptance, the agreeement; they were present. she simply could not make herself speak the words into existence. "i will be an aquilanera," she murmured. starting there. let's start there.
Riverclan
Star*
always an angel, never a god
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#8
you are already, if i say so, a smirk began to toy at the corner of wren's mouth, boyish and giddy and freeing. wren and silvertongue aquilanera. my wife.
mates. wives. it felt so terrifyingly foreign to let the word slip from her tongue in a way that was serious, a way that implied that this was real. for years, a moment such as this was only something wren could find in the depths of her dreams; a woman at her side, a woman who saw in her what she did not see in herself; a woman who looked at the stone of her hardened outer shell and melted it with the sweetness of her touch.
when she blinks, she opens her eyes again to see that very woman staring back at her, the grin that spread across her lips, and she felt herself beginning to choke. yes, wren needed it — needed it more than perhaps she had ever realized.
she says it again beneath her breath and on her tongue is the taste of freedom. not her name. their name.
and now they will be mothers together.