Private Thread Feathers for the Quiet Ones

"..."

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Cold. That's how Cinderwhisper felt despite the clear skies and bright sunshine, a grumble of displeasure escaping the molly as she sat in her nest. Each day, she felt herself slowly but surely slipping away, growing weaker. Maybe it was just the cold getting to her. But if it wasn't and she really was going to StarClan soon then she wouldn't be upset. Her sister's grandchildren still had each other. Her work here was done.

Once Tangleloon stepped in, the she-cat looked up at him, greeting him with a slow blink before watching him place the bird down ay her paws. Of course. With the river still cold they still wouldn't have much fish for a while.

When the tom spoke, the elder cracked the smallest of smiles. Oh how she saw Wolfcry in  in Cinderwisp and Tangleloon. She trusted that they would grow to be even more wonderful then they already were. Cinderwisper started to eat, more then happy to listen to Tangleloon.

Retirement? I prefer ‘extended vacation with benefits.’
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Tangleloon’s shoulders loosened when she blinked at him slow and deliberate like the hush of wind through long grass. That was all he needed. That blink... and the faintest pull of her smile - it warmed something in his chest. He didn’t speak again right away, just watched her begin to eat, content with the silence between them. No fanfare. No awkward fussing.

"I like bringing things to cats who don't ask...!" He murmured after a moment, eyes wandering across the den’s worn edges, the places softened by moons of breath and fur and time. "And sometimes I get to stretch my legs a bit too - "

He looked back at her, tilting his head with that half lopsided, curious grace. "Do you remember hunting robins?" He asked knowing she might not answer. "They're tricksters! Dive between brambles like they’re showing off. Dizzying things, robins are - but rather plentiful in newleaf, at least when the thaw melts. The River should...HOPEFULLY... any day now!"

With his tail tucked close and ears angled gently toward her, Tangleloon settled deeper into the den, as if rooting himself beside her. There was no rush. No point to be made. Just a moment to sit in the quiet.

"..."

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When Tangleloon mentioned how he liked to bring things to cats who didn't ask question, her expression became one of mild amusement. But she understood the sentiment. When a cat asked too many questions it often felt like the individual being asked wasn't trustworthy or that they were secretive. 

Did she remember hunting robins? Of course she did. The molly loved hunting whether it was land, tree, or water animals. All of them provided a fun challenge but especially robins. Cinderwhisper flicked an ear, plucking a few feathers out of the way. Robins certainly were tricksters. It was to the point that the she-cat questioned how intelligent the birds truly were.

Retirement? I prefer ‘extended vacation with benefits.’
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Tangleloon caught the shift in her face...the faint crease of amusement, the glint of memory. It was subtle, quiet, but it stirred something delighted in him. Like he’d tossed a stone into a still pool and watched the ripples bloom.

"Ooooh, you do remember." He breathed, leaning in with a conspiratorial glimmer in his pale green eyes as he animated his whiskers with a twitch of his snout. A smile. "I knew you would."

He let the silence settle again, but it wasn’t empty. It was companionable. Reverent, even. "I always imagined you as one of those hunters who didn’t waste a pawstep..." He mused, curling his tail a little tighter, warmth pooling at the edges of his voice. "You know, the kind who could catch a bird just by looking at it funny. Stop it right in its tracks. "

His gaze flicked to the robin. A few feathers had drifted loose, catching the dim light like floating embers. He scooped one gently with a paw and held it up. One of the red ones that made its chest look like it was caught on fire in the sunlight. "Proof their such vain critters - why do they need to make it so easy for us to see them? Catch a cardinal, goldfinch, or jay, spot their feathers a mile away!" his sing song voice was lit with warmth, of memory passed down from his own mother, who could have passed it down from his grandmother. From Wolfcry.

He set the feather beside her nest and glanced at her again, a quieter look this time, something gentler. "I think I just wanted to see you..." Tangleloon meowed at last, softer now, more open.

"..."

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Cinderwhisper nodded one Tangleloon voiced her thoughts, a brief, almost inaudible purr escaping the molly for a single heartbeat. If the tom didn't listen closely, he would have missed it. He wasn't wrong about the she-cat being a good hunter. She had been and the elder had thankfully been able to pass that skill onto Cinderwisp before she was forced to retire. Retire into a life where she no longer had to patrol or hunt. Where she could sleep all day... It was nice to have a visitor every once in a while.

Retirement? I prefer ‘extended vacation with benefits.’
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He didn’t press her, didn’t ask questions or dig too deep. That wasn’t what this was about. He just let the warmth of her presence fold around him, like sun on the riverbank in early newleaf. His tail curled, tucked around his side like a ribbon, and he leaned slightly closer, just enough to rest his shoulder near the edge of her nest.

"I bet Cinderwhisper was a great hunter." He said, voice quiet but laced with pride. "There’s a line of strength in your name, you know. A line that curls through the clan like a current."

He looked at the feather again, then at the old molly beside him, and gave a soft hum, like a lullaby with no words. "Tell me if I talk too much." He added, a sly smile tugging one side of his mouth. "I’ll shush. Or hum instead." And just like that, he let the quiet return.

"..."

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Cinderwhisper shook her head, no. He wasn't talking too much. In fact, the molly didn't mind it at all. The she-cat soon finished the robin. Not like they were big birds anyways. Pushing the bones aside, the elder relaxed against Tangleloon, closing her eyes.

Retirement? I prefer ‘extended vacation with benefits.’
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Tangleloon didn’t move at first just watched her with a slow-blinking softness, heart blooming in his chest when she shook her head. "No? Good. I was starting to worry I was rattling your ears off."

He chuckled under his breath, a warm airy thing, and when she leaned into him, it startled something gentle loose in him. When she closed her eyes, Tangleloon lowered his head and began to groom her with slow, careful strokes. He started just behind her ears where the fur grew soft and fine, mindful of her age, of the way time might’ve made things tender.

"You’ve still got the prettiest fur in the den, you know...Silvery stripes like moonlight on riverwater" He said in a quiet singsong, like he was telling a secret. "Bit of robin fluff caught on your whiskers, but we’ll forgive you for that." And then he said nothing more - just kept grooming, patient and steady, like this moment could stretch on forever and he’d still stay.