of the same mind [c]

Feral Tongue
Forest Tongue

A spot in the snow cleared away with room enough for two, Vinecrawler sat patiently for the arrival of Quailprowler. A recent hunt had him with fresh red feathers he had plucked from a robin, full intention to pass them on the feral molly. They would look beautiful in her pelt, or even just as decoration on her nest within the warriors den. It was up to her.

They were, after all, a peaceful offering of sorts for something he had thought hard about these last few moons since their first spar. Should she accept, perhaps his children would pass this down amongst themselves.

It had been difficult to contain the cool exterior that Quailprowler projected to the clan when Vinecrawler - after months of silence yet remaining in her thoughts - had asked her to meet him here. She now walked to the designated spot, face smooth and even. Her conversation with Mottlestar had unnerved her enough to not ask to meet herself, but her conversation with Silver nearly swayed her to chew him out as well. The birds chirped ahead in a leaf bare song. Not as full and consuming as a regular chorus, but a sad and gloomy one. Empty branches loomed overhead as the tall feral warrior entered the clearing where Vinecrawler sat. Curiously, feathers were at his paws. Beautiful, vibrant robin ones.The Molly's whiskers twitched in amusement. Did the lethal feral need to return to apprentice lessons? Her name was Quail, not Robin. It was difficult to bite back her snarky remark on the tip of her tongue as the molly settled across from the tom, the feathers hauntingly sitting between them. Cocking her head to the side, she allowed for an easy smirk to cross her maw. "Need a molly's touch on deciding some nest decorations?" She said smoothly as a matter of greeting in their feral tongue. Her eyes glittered with curiosity and her pelt burning with the memory of the thrill of their spar.

Feral tongue
Forest tongue

His tail swished behind him as she approached, though her snarky comment stopped it in its movements just as it had begun. He would need to get used to such a harsh tongue if this was to be his forever mate. Out of every cat within ThunderClan, it only made sense that he and Quailprowler would be a perfect match in genetics. The feral blood had already begun to dwindle as Aurelia and Sleets children ceased to be. "They are a gift to you. I caught the bird on a patrol and thought they might look good tucked within your fur." He grabbed one of the feathers and bounded forward, one smooth leap and he was at her paws and face to face. He hesitated at first, hoping she wouldn't be quick to bite him outright thinking he was here to fight her. He was always open for a spar, but right now he needed her full attention. As he got closer, he noticed her fur had been freshly groomed and smoothed out. Was it too much to hope that she had done that for him?

Leaning in, he tucked the plumage into the fur just behind one of her ears, standing back to admire the contrast of black and brown fur against the vibrant red of the robins feather. "There are many in this forest, but all I see is you. No one would look better at my side, but... That is only if you are of the same mind as me. We would be strong together, don't you agree?" He swallowed nervously. He had groomed himself to perfection just to make this deal with her, but there was no telling if her thoughts aligned with his.

For possibly the first time in her life, Quailprowler sat backed on her haunches with no words to say. The stun allowed Vinecrawler the time to bound to the space in front of her maw, his breath tickling her whispers and ear fuzz as he tucked the vibrant red feather behind her rounded ears. He drew away and Quailprowler held his gaze, the silence she held feeling more drawn out than it was. Heartbeats later, Vinecrawler asked her what she hoped for: to be his mate. His words were eloquent and toned with the strengths that the ferals were and are expected to project. The shock washed over her in a wave, however, on his first sentence. He truly only had eyes for her? Guilt followed. Was she wrong to assume that he would only wish to be mates with her for genetics?

While Quailprowler was not sure if her feelings for Vinecrawler could be defined as love quite yet, the admiration and attraction was certainly there. Ferals aren't necessarily known to mate for love, but that isn't saying it couldn't happen. Swallowing, the large warrior realized she had not responded yet.

"Vinecrawler," She started, her voice low and serious as she stood and brushed her cheek against his. The only cat in the forest she does not need to bow to in so many regards. "I accept your proposal to be your mate." Her native tongue rolls the formalities off as she pulls away with softened eyes. Fittingly, a bird chirps in the distance in the heart beat of silence. "I shall think of a gift for you." She dipped her head in respect, taking a step back to give him space to partake in the act and raised it again, angling her right side to give the tom access to the place she chose just a second ago.

Feral tongue
Forest tongue

A hearty purr errupted at her acceptance, stepping back to admired the bright red feather that was tucked neatly behind her ear. "A gift for me...? Perhaps a feather to match yours? So that the forest understands we walk with the same heart." It would also be a wonderful tradition to start with their family once the time came for that. While he wouldn't call this 'love', it would be a lie to say that even out of necessity, he felt affection towards her. With more time together and kits in between, he could see this becoming a very strong bond. Perhaps one worthy of being called 'love'.

Quailprowler nodded, a tiny smile crossing her lips. "Yes, that would be delightful. If you're sure it won't cause your fierce image to decay." She paused, studying the tom, unsure of where they went from here before adding. "I say that in jest, of course. Nothing could bring down the ferocity of yourself." A compliment, that would be a good place to start. The tall warrior suddenly felt self-conscious, shifting her weight on her paws before glancing around. "What do we do now? Do we tell the clan?" Her eyes met his again as her breath hitched in her throat.