you know how time flies

SHRIKEFROST

When Daffodilcatcher approached later, Shrikefrost offered her a polite nod, mentioning how he was proud of Pumpkinstem for doing the hard work of… carrying entire kits. He tentatively asked how had she felt when she learned about her own kits? The molly’s parenting didn’t go completely unnoticed by Shrikefrost, that was certain. Still, he wanted to have benefit of the doubt. He couldn’t help but wonder if Daffodilcatcher knew what had happened to Embergaze.

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher was right to be certain. There was scrutiny in Shrikefrost's burning gaze. She shrank back again and sacrificed her pride for whispering a soft congratulations. "I had my... thoughts. It... was harder- than what I hoped. I survived because... because," She derails, her focus growing blurry like the sky amidst a blizzard, "Because Ems- helped a lot." Her breath catches in her throat. The pregnancy and birthing process had little complications; she couldn't help herself when she chose to associate the innocent faces of her children with the pain she felt. Now she understood pain worse than giving birth and still she wasn't willing to repent or change her ways for the atrocities she committed to- the neglect, the frigidness she gave her children.

The young warrior feared Shrikefrost once because of an overactive imagination. Daffodilkit didn't have a reason to fear Shrikefrost, but Daffodilcatcher did. There was the potential for judgement in the wrinkle of his nose. She saw her sheepish reflection in his sunset eyes. Quietly she asks if he's nervous.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost watched the way Daffodilcatcher seemed to shrink back, looking... Sheepish, almost? Ashamed? Shrikefrost's gaze softened a little. He understood, in a way. From the things he'd seen, Daffodilcatcher had been distant from her kits. But he knew distance perhaps better than any cat. And he knew at her age, he might have done the same. Being a mother, a parent of any kind, was life changing. Daffodilcatcher barely got a life outside of motherhood, be it her fault or not.

Shrikefrost nodded. "I'm definitely nervous." His voice was low, still not sure how much he was supposed to say. It wouldn't be hard to figure out who he was to Pumpkinstem's kits. "It's scary to have kits, especially now, during the cold. But I know Pumpkin can handle it. She's a strong cat." I can handle it too. He thought.

There was a beat of silence. "I... Admit I don't know what happened, and I won't pry." Shrikefrost managed to sound gentle. "But if you need help with them, I'm more than happy to... To be there for them too. It's not easy being a mother." A quiet solemn look crossed his features. "I know Ember loves them dearly. No matter her reasoning for...things."

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher cleared her throat and buried her paws in the snow. She held his gaze for a moment before looking away. She wasn't privy to the thoughts in his head and was helpless to stop her own which were racing faster than she could track. "I was, too." She murmurs, it's unclear what she's agreeing to or answering. She shuffles her paws underneath the snow.

"The leaf-fall was easy to have them in, guess I had it good, kinda." She smiles weakly, Daffodilcatcher doesn't find it comedic to joke about harsh seasons or difficult pregnancies. She does know Pumpkinstem is strong, she's survived a lot.

She clenches her teeth together. "Ems and I talked." She says, "... I'm alright. If they ask, though..." She pulls a deep breath into her chest. Daffodilcatcher knew this would hurt to say, but she needed to say it, "If they ask, d... don't say no. I say no enough that, well," She unburies a paw and rub the frozen appendage against her sweating brow, "'S not safe for them, I think, a-and... Ems always had her plan, and it- Jus' wish it hadn't happened so soon." Her pelt itches. Irritation. Grief. She wanted to admit no, it wasn't easy being a mother. She felt like she was destined to fail at it, she knew somewhere she set herself up for failure, but how could she put all those complicated feelings into words? She wishes they could go back to small-talk.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost followed Daffodilcatcher's gaze, a stab of pity in his chest causing him to frown slightly. He sat, listening to what she had to say.

He was quiet for a few moments. "I understand." He knew Embergaze had always been adrift, in a way that Pumpkinstem was too. Not discontent but... not fully here, either. He knew that kind of uncertainty personally. He'd known it with Redith too, and it was scary. It was terrifying. Shrikefrost tried not to think too hard on it all.

"Ever since she was a kit she's..." His voice broke off. "It isn't your fault, Daffodil." It might have been projection, to say such a thing. Maybe it was just something he would have been glad to hear when Redith left. When she died. He wasn't sure really what compelled him to say it, but he meant it, regardless. "I can't say what her goals are... or were. I wish I hadn't..." The tom sighed heavily. "All I can ask is trust her to be good." It sounded almost like a plea. Shrikefrost felt guilty saying it, because once again, it wasn't his place to ask for forgiveness. And in a lot of ways, he should have been asking for forgiveness for his own actions, not Embergaze's. But... time and place. Time and place.

"I'm here either way. For Guppy and Bay, if they need it. Or if you need it, or... anything."

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher sniffs sharply. Her breath fogs in the cold air when she exhales. She still stares at the snow. Shrikefrost has a few moons on her. He is wise, to a degree, more-so than she is. He was a rogue at one time, if she remembers right, from what Embergaze told her. She looks at him from the corner of her eye. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully.

"I know Ems wants to find her... her mum," She smiles gently, it slides away, replaced by a lame frown, "You don't know.. the half of it." She dares with a shake of her head. Daffodilcatcher will omit that she was crueler to Embergaze than she ever had been since the news of the kits. She'll keep it nested inside her chest, all of the ways she made Embergaze feel, for some reason all of the good she felt with her mate was small in comparison to the bad that kept piling up beside it. The warm, fluttering security froze up when winter came around the corner. Just like the streams and ponds. Where Embergaze comforted her and Daffodilcatcher felt like the only cat in the world under her soft focus.

She clears her throat and nods shakily. "She'll be good, she's always good, right? Yeah, y'know." The warrior brings her gaze back to Shrikefrost and her eyes look watery but absent of tears. She nods again, this time slower, "Thanks, Shrikefrost. I'm good, I'm alright. Kids should be but, y'know." She shrugs weakly.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost's heart ached a little. It was true. He didn't know the half of it. He hadn't for moons. It had all slipped through his paws when he'd backed away from life. When he'd burned his bridges and left the ash in his wake. Embergaze was a different cat now, surely. There were a lot of things he didn't know now. The news of her and Daffodilcatcher's kits were a shock to him, and it still hadn't fully gone away.

Shrikefrost knew he should have spoken to Embergaze. Explained himself. But he was a coward, and instead he hid. Convinced himself she would have been better off without his destruction that he often heralded. It all seemed redundant now.

"She always thought her mother would come back for her." He meowed quietly. She left like Shrikefrost had. Pain lanced through his chest, but he kept his expression steady.

The tabby was silent for a few long moments, before he nodded slowly. "Of course, Daffodil." He meowed. "You're welcome to visit the uh-" Shrikefrost's expression fell for a split second. "The kits. Whenever you'd like. Not that you need my permission. But you are welcome." He'd give a small nod. Ah, screw lying. Cats would know eventually.

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher thinks she can feel her blood being carried around her body in her veins. This moment is crippling. She's exchanging sadness for sadness with Shrikefrost and she feels like this is too familiar of a story. She remembers last winter when she beseeched both Shrikefrost and Embergaze to talk with her, and now she can't bring herself to talk at all, not the way she should.

Briefly, Shrikefrost looks visibly pained, Daffodilcatcher assumes it's her presence, it was a sore reminder of Ember's absence, or maybe it was something she said. She wants to run, instead she stays rooted. She ran when Embergaze wanted to talk. She ran when her mother wanted to talk. Daffodil dodged the important things, like the confrontation with her grief, the fight with her askew viewpoints, the admittance that she was wrong. She owed it to herself, and more importantly everyone else to be better than she has been.

She chews on her lip, rolls it between her teeth and relishes in the face she can still feel. "I thought her mum would come back to her, too," She says in a raspy voice, her jaws part and her lips visibly quiver when she says 'mom' the way Embergaze would. "Some dreams are jus'... too good to be true, I think, and- and-It'd've mucked it all up if I said that to her... like that, y'know." She blinks away her brimming tears.

Daffodilcatcher feels like silence is a gift. She treasures it and uses it to recover from her overflowing emotions, "Jus' might, Shrikefrost, sounds... kinda nice. Might not, too, though, 'cause- Yeah." Even though he says she doesn't need his permission, her head insists she does. She had no right to set paw in that nursery for how much she resented it, "'S a busy season." She amends quickly, realizing it sounded like she didn't want to.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost nodded. He knew. "Yeah. I wanted to believe she'd come back too. It... would have been easier to explain." He let out a quiet sigh, eyes shutting briefly to collect himself. Seeing the emotion welling up in Daffodilcatcher's eyes was difficult for some reason. He couldn't watch it.

With a steadying exhale he refocused. He thought of all the empty promises he could make, but none could make it past his teeth. After Redith, it was hard to be optimistic about cats who left. As harrowing as the thought was. Especially about Embergaze. Did Shrikefrost just draw in the wandering types? Something like guilt weighed like a boulder in his chest.

"Some cats need to discover this stuff on their own, I suppose." He meowed, sounding painfully somber despite his efforts. Every thought reminded him bitterly of Redith and where he failed with her. It felt too similar to Embergaze. Too similar to Daffodilcatcher.

"I want to hope she'll be back. Unlike her mother she... she doesn't strike me as the sort to up and leave for good."

Shrikefrost drank in a few moments of extra quiet, feeling tired. This time, he couldn't think about hiding away. This time he had responsibilities that he couldn't disappear from. It was an exhausting thought, admittedly.

"Don't be a stranger. Pumpkin would be happy to see you, I bet." The tom added. "Guppy would probably like the kits too." Shrikefrost wasn't sure about Baypaw, as much, but there was a small itching in his mind to check up on the tom too. Inserting himself into situations was starting to be a common occurrence now, it seemed. Would it scare Daffodilcatcher off? He didn't know her as much as he would have liked, but maybe that could change. Embergaze's absence was a tender sore on her heart, it seemed, but perhaps... if Shrikefrost couldn't make Embergaze feel better, he could at least try with Daffodilcatcher.

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher doesn't know why she's surprised to hear Shrikefrost say he believed in Riona too. She had imagined cats like Shrikefrost were too well seasoned, battered by battles and grief, and believed like she did that life wasn't that easy. Maybe that's why he said he wanted to. Somehow that hurts even more. The young warrior had believed. She believed everything Embergaze ever said. Now the ground isn't solid and everything is up in the air. She's not sure her mate's mother was a hero who embarked on valiant adventures; anymore than she was just a cat who didn't want to take care of a kit. Or, like in Daffodilcatcher's case, kits.

She watches thought cycle through Shrikefrost's expression. There was a glimpse of an open wound in the hurt furrow of his mouth. "Yeah... yeah," She says in a choked voice, "'S not her... choosing to not come back it's like- like, what if she... what if she can't? If she- dies. I promised a-a," Her head gestures with her words, stamping her paws in the snow nervously, "A lotta things. 'S hard to, to keep somebody safe when they- they aren't around." Daffodilcatcher's heart aches. Shrikefrost's voice is grim. He sounds like the optimism has been vacuumed out of him. She felt foolish for searching for that bright, glimmer of hope in his visage, all she found was contemplation and... neutrality.

She realizes in a numb, stunned silence that Shrikefrost wasn't her friend, he was Embergaze's friend. Daffodilcatcher shrinks back a bit and adorns a very convincing smile that lacks all the necessary ingredients to be genuine, "Yeah, yeah, cool, yeah. Kits are fun, gotta lotta spunk in 'em. Probs' like playing... mossball- and stuff. Small thing does play mossball a lot. Thanks... Shrikefrost, you're probs' busy, huh? I won't, like, keep you, y'know." She gives him an easy out, knowing that if she were him she'd want one from herself, too.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost glanced away. He knew the pain Daffodilcatcher was going through all too well. The helplessness of watching loved ones disappear, unsure if they'd be alright.

He had no answer for her. Nothing he could say to amend her feelings without it being baseless. Without lying. If that was what she needed in the moment, Shrikefrost wasn't the right cat to speak to. It left a carved out space in his chest to know that he'd been no help at all. But what more could he do aside from offer his support and try to make it easier for Daffodilcatcher?

He met her gaze again, dignified and firm, but carrying a deep somberness. Shrikefrost could feel her pulling away. What good was there in fighting for her to stay, when it had never worked before? He could see the way her smile never met her eyes, and the glossed over expression that betrayed her intention.

Heavy guilt weighed in his chest.

"I can stay however long you need." Shrikefrost meowed. He gave her a long look, sympathetic at its core. "But I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you're looking for." He knew, deep down, that Daffodilcatcher had that same self immolating tendency. He'd seen it from a distance, and watching it up close was just as telling. The way she silently lit the flames in her own head and let it burn from both ends.

Shrikefrost didn't have the tools to put it out in his own head, and he certainly didn't here, either. In a way, he knew this dance. Nothing he could say would be enough. Something he'd learned time and time again, with his mother, father, brother, Redith, Pumpkinstem.

Perhaps one day he'd learn to walk away. But for now, he still sat, waiting for something to happen outside of the stalemate they placed themselves in.

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher is too busy backing away from the potential harmful situation of rejection and consequent mockery, perhaps belittlement, that she fails to notice Shrikefrost's concern. The reservoir of her failures and mistakes and manipulations was iced over and now in light of Embergaze's departure, it felt like it was thawing, the ice was cracking beneath her paws. Someday soon she would have to learn to swim in those arctic waters and she's never been good at swimming.

She curls her tail closely to her back leg. Her stomach fur brushes against the top snow, leaving a shallow trail as she crouches, ready to spring away and hide. Shrikefrost could be one of those cats who pass judgement onto her, he was close to Embergaze at least once, she knows, and Daffodilcatcher has been... less than pleasant for Ember. She stole moons away from her mate by burdening her with the caretaking of the kits and herself, while she had an apprentice at that. She was selfish. Unforgivably selfish. Shrikefrost could force her to confront her mistakes.

The silent, knowing and keen eye he regards her with sends a chill down her spine, the course hairs along her back raise at the feeling.

Daffodilcatcher didn't expect him to say he was willing to stay, would he listen, if he did? Did she need someone to? Or...- She was prepared to run if he slapped her with serrated words meant to pierce and tear at her walled up mind, make her understand, get it through and make her bleed for the sins she committed. He was wrath, to her. He was one of them, he could condemn her, like her mothers, like her sister. If they fought back louder, or fiercer, they could have made her listen, even if she struck back, it would be with limp fibs and grand myths, and the truth still overpowered her lame lies. She knew it.

It was too painful to admit it, too heartbreaking that she fractured, damaged or destroyed everything sacred to her, when all she needed to do was speak her mind and be honest.

"Nah... nah, no, hah," She breathes, her foggy breath carried by the frosty breeze, "Yeah. An', and- I get it." She hiccups, "Feels like I'ma need forever, and neither of us got that, Shrikefrost, so, like, maybe not today. 'S too... too much for today." She says and looks off to the side, the snow piles up alongside the dens and baby gusts of wind push around the fresh powder. It cycles through the air in streamers, dancing in the air and scattering when it brushes against trees and shrubs. Daffodilcatcher slowly brings her focus back to Shrikefrost through some visible effort, "Thanks, though. I'm here, too." She didn't know she was like him, she barely knew him, and he barely knew her, even if it felt like he was an all-seeing eye, staring into her and picking through the meaty bits of emotion heavily guarded within. She shivers not from the cold.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost watched the small crack form. The hesitation that was silent as it was devastating, for both of them. It hung in the air like water had condensed around them. Shrikefrost didn't move, letting his golden gaze settle on the scrunched up form of Daffodilcatcher. Watched the way her gaze darted around frantically, away from him.

He didn't want her to feel cornered. He let his gaze drop for a few moments. When she answered, his attention fixed back upon the young molly. "That's alright." Shrikefrost spoke, voice nothing more than the scraping of stone against stone. "There's no time limit on these things. If you ever think you'd like to speak about it, I'll be here." That much was true. With kits on the way, he wasn't going anywhere from MonarchClan if he could help it. Not that he ever really had the intention to.

"And thank you." He'd dip his head quietly. Shrikefrost watched out of the corner of his eye as wind kicked up some snow, brushing over his pelt and powdering it with sparkling snowflakes. "I may take you up on that." He admitted with a faint smile. Perhaps it was fruitless, to care so much. It often was. It often ended in heartache, but Shrikefrost wasn't sure how to switch it off. It clung to his heart regardless of all the things he tried. All the hiding, the avoidance, none of it stopped him from caring about others. It likely only worsened it.

"And- even if you don't want to speak of it... I'd be remiss to let you feel like you're alone. I'm here if you'd just like to sit and do nothing with someone." The tom figured his words would be threatening at first, overwhelming to cats who backed away from comfort. With time, maybe, it would settle in. It was all Shrikefrost could hope for right now. "I don't mean to hold you up, if you're cold."

DAFFODILCATCHER

Unlike Embergaze, and a lot like Shrikefrost, Daffodilcatcher is anchored to MonarchClan. Between her blood and her fear of the unknown. Her ears twitch down as the older cat's words fall on them, it sounds like claws against ice, an unpleasant, dull scraping sound that leaves satisfying trenches in the frozen water. She blinks away the sting in her eyes and peers at him skeptically from the corner of her eye.

There wasn't an enemy in him, but there wasn't a friend either, could she trust that? She didn't trust her sister, or her mothers, the correct way, in the way she felt like she should trust Shrikefrost now. When she had trusted Embergaze, it was all or nothing, it was too much, and she childishly betrayed Embergaze's trust when she shared her own. Daffodilcatcher's head spins as she comes to conclusion maybe it's herself she shouldn't trust.

"Nah, nah, yeah," Her voice still shakes with nervousness, "There's not, so-" It was difficult to navigate these murky, uncharted waters. There wasn't a smoke trail or obvious ball of light to guide her, she could route her own conclusion from Shrikefrost's offer. She trembles, "Raincheck, huh? Like," She laughs dryly, "Snowcheck, maybe, an-anyways, yeah, later?" She tries to smile at him, too, and with its' shaky foundation, her smile can't hold much weight, despite the dimples of her cheeks saying, 'She's trying to be real.'

Daffodilcatcher was distantly grateful for Shrikefrost's graciousness. He opened his arms for her even when she recoiled, quick enough to startle prey or alert a predator, she could stand still for a moment, and shelter herself with his kindness, wrap herself up in it and pretend it's green-leaf again. Even if only for a moment, the kit in her cried for it. She nods, her jaw quivering when her smile climbs high enough to reach her eyes, "S-" She swallows, "That sounds, actually, kinda, really nice, Shrikefrost... huh. Uhm, I'll... I'll do that for- you, too, y'know, yeah."

Her paws are numb, and her heart, head and everything aches, she feels drained. This is the most open she's been, in a very, very long time, it feels like. The warrior sniffs, "I'ma visit... uh, Pumpkinstem, sometime. An'... yeah. Thanks, again, y'know." She cringed. She sounded so... broken, so awkward and clumsy in her own ears. Daffodilcatcher wishes she was perfect, so she could suavely say she was alright! Nothing was bad! But everything hurt so much, and she didn't have the energy to pretend. Now it felt like it was life or death- she needed to speak now, sometime, soon, or she never would.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost found it hard to watch the way Daffodilcatcher seemed to disintegrate under his words. Her form closing further and further in upon itself. What surprised him though, was her staying still. It sat in Shrikefrost's mind like an anchor. There was meaning to her actions, he realized. They spoke louder than her stilted, uncertain words. She couldn't admit it out loud, but her shifting felt suddenly very clear.

Or perhaps Shrikefrost was reading too heavily into it. Perhaps he was about to make a fool of himself, and cross into spaces he wasn't allowed to be.

Perhaps some day he'd learn, but for now, he gave Daffodilcatcher a quiet, contemplative look. The tabby moved forwards carefully, closing the distance with enough time in between for Daffodilcatcher to pull back, if she wanted. Then, as though faced with a cornered animal, he placed a tentative paw around her nape and drew her in for a brief hug. At the back of his mind, he recalled the day where Embergaze had got sick, and he spent the morning collecting feathers with Daffodilcatcher to give to her.

He had a hard time separating those cats, now. The scared, worried Daffodilpaw, asking if her friend would be alright. Shrikefrost didn't know then, and he didn't know now either.

He was silent until he pulled back, paw still resting lightly on the molly's shoulder. "I promise you, Daffodil, however anything goes.." Shrikefrost fixed her with an earnest gaze. "It's going to be alright. I promise you." His words echoed from his chest with a pain that he had been suppressing for moons. It bubbled up past his windpipe and threatened to choke him. Surprisingly, he kept his voice even.

Even facing death. Things were alright.

Shrikefrost set his paw down, keeping his tail close to Daffodilcatcher's side, though not quite touching. Tree branches rattled over their heads as another chilled wind whistled through camp.

DAFFODILCATCHER

Daffodilcatcher's hind-quarters sunk into the snow further. When the cold, white powder gave, she flinched. Now was a good time to turn around and walk away. It was now or never, she told herself. That last push she required was given to her a moment too late. She was oblivious to the fact Shrikefrost closed the distance between them, with her gaze focused askance and her ears full of muted ringing.

The monotone sound reverberated in her skull, it became cacophonous and still all at once. The young warrior stared at him. His warmth was draped over her shoulder with his arm, surrounding her in a cloud of familiarity. It feels a lot like the nursery, back way and when. There were cuddle piles and Onionkit always had a habit of shoving his foot in her face and she'd bite him- She continues to stare listlessly at the side of Shrikefrost's face. His more defining features are obscured by the awkward angle. His fur is pushed by the wind and is tangled together where its' longer.

Daffodilcatcher manages to trap the sob in her throat, burying her snout into the older feline's shoulder. She grabs at him desperately when he tries to pull away. She's reminded of the night Emberpaw was admitted to the herbalist den. How terrified she had been and how comfort Shrikefrost had been. Something made him a different cat in the moons that passed and something made her different too. A lot of things made them change. She wasn't keen on the image she presented anymore. She tries to muffle her sniffles into his fur. She can feel his gaze on her and the low timbre of his voice travels towards her chest and weaves between her lungs- her ribs and her heart, slowly but surely his reassuring words alleviates the pressure.

Her throat bounces as she fights to catch her breath, "D-don't... promise nothin'," She hiccups, "Jus'... y'know, I'll... I'ma- I'll stand by it, y'know. Next rain, or somethin', I'll... I'll talk, come out of it or somethin'." Daffodilcatcher breathes heavily. She is reluctant to rip herself away from Shrikefrost. His embrace feels unconditional. The last cat to hug her was Pearwhisper. She wishes she felt like this with her, like she didn't have to live up to something she'd never achieve, obtain or whatever.

She spares the tom one more glance before she nods at him, mutters a brief thank you, "If... if Ems doesn't come back, I'll- Before it rains, I'll talk." She has little hope now that Embergaze will come back, but maybe if she loved Ember enough she would make it up, she'd pretend, for as long as she promised to. Daffodilcatcher slinks away from Shrikefrost, her visage vacant of a smile, twisted into a pained grimace.

SHRIKEFROST

Shrikefrost let Daffodilcatcher cling on to his shoulder, felt the tensing of her jaw against the nape of his neck and the way her breathing became shaky and hurried. He closed his eyes, silently reassuring her with gentle pats.

Once she pulled away, his gaze followed her, heavy with empathy. He nodded quietly at her promise, hoping that one way or another, she would get to open up. But sometimes cats weren't ready. It took him nearly a year to finally gather himself from his pain and start again. He could see the reliance that Daffodilcatcher had on Embergaze reflected in his own memories.

"I'll be here." He said, softly, even through his gruff voice.

Shrikefrost watched until Daffodilcatcher was out of sight before letting his posture slump, and allowed a feeble sigh to slip through. Quickly after, he gave himself a shake and rose to his paws to turn back to the nursery, feeling tired. A huge part of him wanted to disappear into the territory for a while, maybe sit and talk to the ever silent stars above him. Instead, he decided to check in on Pumpkinstem again.