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episims · 4 years

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1, 9 and 12 please! :)

Thank you for asking! ^___^

1. Favourite hood you’ve played this decade?

Foxfire Forest has brought so much joy to me lately, but since I’ve only played that for a couple of months and I did spend this whole decade simming on/off… Hmm. Well, somewhere around 2017 I had a neighborhood named Honeystream Valley. I was maybe on gen 3 when I started having really bad problems with the pink flashing (I was on Win10 back then). Geez, I loved playing that neighborhood so much! I wasn’t ready to let it go, no way. So I decided that I’m going to fix this game, no matter what.

…Which I couldn’t do, of course. But I really tried for almost a year. I read so much about the differences between Win7 and Win10, studied GPU’s and much more when I tried to figure out how to make my game functional again. These days when you search “the sims 2 pink flashing” from Google you might end up to this thread at Leefish forums. That’s (mostly) my spouse talking with @celebkiriedhel, trying to help me to save that neighborhood.

But yeah, eventually I just had to let Honeystream Valley go. Even without the pink flashing it was probably corrupted anyway. I still miss it sometimes! Even if it was all over the place compared to my neighborhoods these days lmao. The amount of work I was ready to put into saving it probably makes it my favorite neighborhood of not only this decade, but all time.

9. Three things you enjoyed in your game this year

Well, the first one’s definitely that the game is finally working again, thanks to Win7 xD but apart from that, exploring supernatural lifestates and building Foxfire Forest.

I really hadn’t played with supernaturals ever before this (last?) year and it’s been so cool to find new things about something I thought I’m extremely familiar with already. And before Foxfire Forest I’ve always found building new neighborhoods so boring - I just wanted to play the damn thing, not build it for who knows how long. But with Foxfire I decided to really focus on builds and tried not to hurry with everything else, and I ended up really enjoying it!

12. Three favourite movies of the decade?

Oh damn, this is actually pretty hard for me as I don’t watch movies that often! But let’s say Ex Machina, Her and Annihilation because those were kind of movies that I’ve found myself regularly thinking of ever since I saw them (and lol I’m not really that big of a sci-fi fan, but my spouse is, so maybe that’s why I ended up seeing more sci-fi movies than other genres really).

#meme #challenge #sometownie #oops this got long #sorry

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honeystream83 · 3 years

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#협찬 #팜엔탑 #키즈아연 #키즈비타민d

초코맛 타블렛

아이들이 잘먹는 #키즈영양제

#팜엔탑 #키크는영양제 #키성장영양제 #키즈영양제

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goosehascats · 4 months

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Moon 3: Part 2

CW: Reference to death of an app/abusive power dynamic/unhealthy emotional relationships/grief and angst

Beeflick was exhausted. Her patrol with Snaillake had gone… Well, she would say, it went well. They were silent, again, for most of it. Snaillake preferred the quiet, and Beeflick wasn’t sure she had much to say to him today. Until a gust of wind had brought the scent of honey and brackish water washing over the two.

They had shared a wordless look, before stopping immediately to meditate and pray to Starclan. Beeflick perhaps would’ve been fine with such a short visit from the dead, but even in picking up the herbs she had collected for Snaillake, the smell lingered for her. And she had found herself tearing up, crying silently the rest of the walk back home. She laid out the herbs in Snaillake’s den wordlessly, and turned to leave before he could even thank her.

Duskstar was waiting in the clearing.

“Beeflick,” he said in a smooth, warm tone. He was already purring so heavily. “I would like to discuss something with you, privately.”

Beeflick’s eyes lifted slightly, swallowing her grief and allowing herself to look a bit hopeful. “Shall we meet in your den, then?”

“No,” Duskstar said firmly. “I want to meet with you on the moors to the East.”

Beeflick’s ears perked. “Is there something out there?”

Duskstar simply turned to the camp entrance, looking at Beeflick over his shoulder. His tail flicked for her to follow, and she did so obediently.

---

“So,” Beeflick started nervously, wind buffeting into her fur. “Where exactly are we going?”

The clouds rolled dramatically overhead, the kind of gray that can only mean rain, and a lot of it. Duskstar’s pelt displayed starkly against it, his own fur being tussled by the weather. “There’s something I need to show you.” He turned, stepping down into a divet in the ground. Beeflick followed after him, finding little shelter from the wind here. In front of Duskstar was a dark entrance, cobwebs stretched over a lower corner of it. Beeflick’s pelt prickled anxiously.

“This… Duskstar this smells like-”

“Fox? Yes, but it’s old. Faint, even, these are abandoned. But there’s more than that,” He said with a tone of interest and adventure. He turned to the entrance, chest swelling as he took a breath. He dove into the tunnel, disappearing into the dark. Beeflick’s tail lashed and she swallowed, looking around. She could feel eyes on her in every direction, and she swore she could smell fresh fox somewhere on the wind. “Come on, Beeflick,” Duskstar’s voice echoed out of the fox den playfully. “I haven’t yet shown you the important part.”

“A-are you sure, Duskstar? Is it safe?”

“I’m in here, aren’t I? Surely you know I wouldn’t go anywhere dangerous.”

“O-Of course, Duskstar,” Beeflick said, voice trembling. She hesitantly stepped paw in the mouth of the entrance. She closed her eyes, pushing down a whimper of fear, and took 3 more steps into the entrance.

She opened her eyes again, her sight adjusting to the dark of the tunnel. Duskstar sat before her, smiling.

“I knew I chose a brave deputy,” He said affectionately. “Now, follow me.”

Beeflick’s nerves eased with the praise, the tension in her chest loosening. She lowered her head, ears on a swivel, and began to follow Duskstar closely. The two walked for a great deal of time, but Beeflick found herself unable to complain- at least down here, it was warm. The tunnel began to widen after a time, and just the barest hint of light began to trickle into the two cats’ vision.

Before she knew it, they were in a low roofed chamber of sorts. A dark series of roots covered the back half of the chamber, a pool of dark water nestled just below it. The roots however are covered in small, squirming things with little greenish-yellow lights on their sides.

“What are these..?” Beeflick asked in awe. In the reflection of the dark pool below, you could barely see their movement, almost reflecting back a night sky.

“I don’t know,” Duskstar said in a low, excited tone. “I’ve taken to calling them starworms.” His head snaps to look at Beeflick. “I had my leadership ceremony under the clear sky, to commune with Starclan,” he started excitedly. “But I think we have found our own direct channel to our ancestors.”

Beeflick’s eyes widened, ears up. “Are you sure, Duskstar? Have you tested it?”

“No,” he said calmly. “That’s why I brought you here, though. You lost someone the most recently, surely you can reach out to Honeystream for me?”

“I-I don’t know if it will work…” Beeflick said, her earlier grief creeping back.

“Neither do I,” Duskstar said reassuringly. “But how else are we to learn? Surely you want the Clan to have somewhere with which to communicate to Starclan.”

“Of course I do, Duskstar!” Beeflick said, nodding her head once with determination. “I… Simply worry about what he will say to me.”

“Beeflick,” Duskstar said with a low, empathetic tone. He stepped toward her, running his tail down her back. “It doesn’t matter what he says to you. What matters is that we ensure this is safe for Snaillake’s use. It’s your duty as deputy, isn’t it?” Duskstar’s tone was firm, but friendly still. Beeflick trembled, pressing her side into Duskstar’s.

“It is. I’ll do it.” And then, after a moment. “How?”

“I believe you just touch your nose to the water,” Duskstar sat at the back of the chamber, away from the water and the worms. “As if to greet the dead.”

Beeflick approached the black pool cautiously. She couldn’t even make herself out in the reflection thanks to the dark. Only her silhouette blocked out the light the worms gave off. She lowered herself down, closed her eyes, and thought of the smell of Honeystream from earlier. Her nose touched the cold water, and-

Beeflick was home.

Beeflick looked around herself, whirling madly. Everything here was different, but it was the old Rootclan territory. It was bluer, now, and the shadows were black and dark and yet somehow just as bright as the rest of the territory.

“Oh,” a familiar voice said from behind her. “We weren’t… Expecting you.”

Beeflick whirled around to see Honeystream standing behind her. Almost immediately, her tears began to overflow, and she rushed forward, nuzzling his side. She began to attempt to sputter out apology after apology, but every word came out garbled and incomprehensible. Honeystream stepped back, away from her, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Um, ok,” he said softly. “That was… A lot.” He sat, beginning to lick his side where Beeflick had nuzzled him. Beeflick kept her distance, sitting with a tragically wet sniffle. “Beeflick, you’re not supposed to be here.” Honeystream said flatly.

“Wh- Why not?” Beeflick asked, trying to keep the sting of rejection out of her voice.

“Well,” Honeystream looked around the treeline, as if begging some unseen force for aid. “I… I don’t really know, no one’s actually telling me anything. Not yet, at least. But just-” Honeystream stopped suddenly, staring at Beeflick. “Enough. Leave.”

The change in Honeystream’s voice caused Beeflick to take a step back, tail low to the ground and ears flattened. “What? I-”

“Leave.”

“I don’t know h-”

Duskstar was peering at Beeflick’s face, sitting eerily close to her, when she woke up. She raised her head, and gasped slightly as she realized her nose had begun to bleed.

“Are you alright?” Duskstar asked quizzically.

“I think so?” Beeflick said. She swiped a paw over her nose to get the blood off, grateful to see that it wasn’t still actively running. “I saw Honeystream, and I-”

“What did he tell you?” Duskstar asked calmly.

“Nothing, really.”

“He didn’t forgive you? Or accuse you?”

“No, he just,” Beeflick paused, uncertain if she should share what exactly happened. She looked at Duskstar, and she felt with all of her being that she could trust him. But the smell of blood and a whiff of honey and brackish water made her think otherwise. “He just seemed a little surprised to see me, is all. I think he was expecting Snaillake to find this place.”

“Mm,” Duskstar nodded sagely. “Then at least we know it works. Let’s get back to camp before the rain starts, and we will inform Snaillake of the new prayer site.”

Beeflick nodded once, and the two slipped out through the tunnels, and back into the windy, raging moors.

#Hiveclan #clangen #clangen: Hiveclan #Hiveclan: Journal #Hiveclan: Duskstar #Hiveclan: Beeflick #Hiveclan: Honeystream

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goosehascats · 5 months

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Moon 0: Coming Home

CW: Death of an apprentice, emotional manipulation/abuse Panting and struggling into the burrow, Beeflick wriggled into the tight fit after the rest of the Clan. There weren’t many of them yet, but a burrow even this spacious felt cramped with 8 of them in there. Duskstar purred warmly just to her left, closing his eyes. “A tight squeeze to be sure, but it is secure and we are warm.”

Eager to please her leader, she nodded once with a bright smile. “It is rather cozy and safe here,” she echoed, looking over the rest of the cats. Honeypaw offered her a supportive but awkward flash of a grin, and the other two apprentices started cleaning themselves off. Snaillake’s tail flicked dismissively at her, an eyebrow raised with unimpressed indifference. Roachchirp had her paws folded neatly underneath her, seeming to ignore the cheery optimism of both her leader and deputy. Mosquitofur was the first to pipe up in response.

“As much as I’m happy to leech the warmth off of you youngsters, I could use some help getting dry first,” she rasped. She wasn’t ill, though she sounded it. Mosquitofur’s voice was simply a rather dry, husky noise by nature. Had been for longer than either Duskstar or Beeflick had known her, at least. Snaillake gazed over at the elder, dipping his head.

“Of course, Mosquitofur, I apologize for not thinking of you.” He seemed to put a slight edge on the last half of his statement, which Beeflick chose not to recognize and which had Mosquitofur’s ear twitch in annoyance. Snaillake approached and began to clean her to dry her off regardless of his tone, though, and everyone settled down to outlast the rain.

It wasn’t until well into the next morning that the rain fully stopped. Hiveclan agreed to hold off on moving on until the sun had dried some of the wet out of the dirt. Duskstar was chipper as always, and Beeflick glanced at the rest of the Clan, hoping that his attitude was rubbing off on the less enthusiastic cats. The apprentices seemed happier- Leechpaw and Mitepaw poking and nudging each other, and Honeypaw seemed to just be scanning the horizon with interested, wide eyes. Snaillake was as stoic and annoyed looking as ever, but he moved without dragging his paws. Roachchirp stalked behind everyone, head lowered and almost appearing fox-like. Beeflick felt her pelt shift slightly and she looked back forward, swallowing down her nerves. Mosquitofur came up on her other side, running her back along Beeflick’s.

“Excited to finally find our camp?” She asked, her New-leaf green eyes sliding over to gaze at Beeflick amicably.

“Of course,” Beeflick dipped her head in agreement. “I just hope we get there sooner rather than later. Being on the move this long has me…” Beeflick glanced around at her other clanmates, lowering her voice so they couldn’t hear her. “Nervous,” she whispered, with a tinge of shame. Mosquitofur let out a breath through her nose.

“Oh we’re nearly there, Beeflick. I can feel it, in my bones.” She ran her tail over Beeflick’s comfortingly. “These old bones haven’t been wrong yet.”

Beeflick smiled tiredly. “I hope you’re right.”

The Clan walked without stop till about midday, when the 8 cats came across a rather wide river. Duskstar’s mouth barely dipped out of a smile, but it was obvious he was uncertain about the water. “Hm,” he hummed. He turned to the Clan. “It seems as though we will need to swim across. The water seems to be rather slow, so it should be safe.” His steel gray gaze turned to Beeflick. He smiled warmly at her. “Beeflick, why don’t you go first? Ensure that the rest of us will be safe in crossing like a deputy ought.”

Beeflick lifted her tail and ears toward Duskstar, an eager smile spreading over her muzzle easily. “Of course, Duskstar!” She trotted on her thin legs to the water’s edge, looking down into it. It was murky and brown, and if she had to guess, it was swollen from the rain. She thought to glance back at her clanmates, but decided against it for worry that she would look as though she doubted Duskstar’s request of her. So she stepped in, feeling the tug of the water on her limbs. She shivered, getting used to the wet and the cold. She walked into the river until she couldn’t anymore, and began to swim across. Beeflick wasn’t a stranger to swimming, but the cold and dirt in the water seemed to make it heavier, and she felt herself struggle just a bit. But even still, she found herself on the other side of the river, heaving herself onto it’s muddy bank and thanking Starclan for the sun on her pelt. “All safe, Duskstar! It’s a tad thick but I think our Clan is strong enough!”

Duskstar nodded approvingly. “Well done, Beeflick!” He turned his head to the others. “Roachchirp, help Mosquitofur cross next. You’re our strongest cat, I trust you to pull her out should she need the help.”

Roachchirp’s eyes slid over Duskstar without a change in her expression, but she nodded. She and Mosquitofur approached the water together, and Roachchirp glanced at her elder. “You go ahead, I’ll follow right behind.”

Mosquitofur dipped her head once, looking nervous about the water. But she got in, swimming across with what strength she had, Roachchirp following directly behind her. Roachchirp assisted Mosquitofur out of the water, supporting her back legs as she hauled herself up onto the slick grass. Roachchirp herself managed to get out of the water with a graceful bound, sitting immediately to lick the water out of her fur. Leechpaw and Mitepaw came next, but Honeypaw hesitated at the opposite bank, staring at the water and shaking.

“Come on, Honeypaw,” Duskstar nudged the young tom lightly. “We need to cross.”

Honeypaw, shaking hard with his fur sticking out at all ends, shook his head. “I-I can’t. It looks like the water that took Petalkit.” He looked up at Duskstar with teary eyes. Duskstar gave him a kind gaze, and then glanced at Snaillake. Snaillake raised an unkind eyebrow in turn, looking at Honeypaw with disdain. “Do you think wetting yourself at the edge of a river is how Petalkit would want you to remember her? Would you not rather overcome your silly fears of water to be brave?” Snaillake’s tone was sharp and low, and Beeflick couldn’t quite hear any of what was being said from across the river.

“Honeypaw!” She called out. “Do you want me to come over and swim you across?”

Honeypaw’s shaking body was bristling now with more than just fear- anger, at himself, for being so scared. “N-no!” He shouted back with determination. “No, I can do this!” He stepped up to the edge of the water, chest puffing out as he took a deep breath. He stepped into the water, staring at it as he walked in up to his elbows. He took another breath before jumping forward and paddling frantically.

Beeflick looked on in worry, lips pursed some, but she wanted to let him accomplish this on his own. Honeypaw flailed over, head dipping below the surface a few times, but his determination kept him afloat amidst his coughing and sputtering. Beeflick perched at the edge, ready to pounce in the water. Honeypaw’s head went under again, and when he came back up, he was notably weaker. Beeflick jumped in immediately, paddling desperately toward his body and grabbing his limp form before it went under again. Snaillake and Duskstar both were swimming across as she got back to shore with Honeypaw. She laid him on the grass, pawing at his stomach and chest clumsily to encourage him to cough up excess water. His breathing was shallow, eyes partially open.

“... Beeflick?” He asked tiredly, coughing again.

Beeflick let out an exhausted breath of relief. “Yes, Honeypaw?”

“I’m sorry… For being scared and for being too weak to do it.” Honeypaw curled up on his side, body shaking. Beeflick just looked down at him, eyes concerned.

“You’re allowed to be scared, Honeypaw. You still tried to do your best, and that’s all we can ask of a warrior.”

Roachchirp scoffs from the sidelines at that line, but says nothing.

At this point, Snaillake was across, and approaching Honeypaw. He wordlessly nudges Beeflick out of the way, inspecting the young apprentice. “I’ll need to start gathering herbs as we travel. He’s going to develop some kind of disease or infection with how much water he’s taken in.” He turns his gaze to Beeflick sharply. “Next time, consider helping your quivering apprentice before he nearly kills himself.”

Beeflick took a step back at his tone, ears back and eyes wide and apologetic. She didn’t say anything for a moment before lowering her head. “You’re right, Snaillake. I’m sorry, Honeypaw.”

Honeypaw only mrrp’d reassuringly in response. “I’ll carry him so he can rest,” Beeflick said to Snaillake, bending down to pick the young apprentice up by the scruff. She was by no means a large or strong cat, but Honeypaw was just 7 moons and still on the small end, so she barely had any trouble carrying him.

The Clan discovered their camp by the next morning, in a low sort of miniature valley in the flower fields with a series of abandoned hare dens. Snaillake and Beeflick immediately set about gathering herbs for Honeypaw’s lethargic condition, but by the time they got to treating him, an infection in his lungs had already set in. The two tended to him night and day, but by the third day of being in camp, Honeypaw passed due to complications with his breathing. Not wanting the first Clan death to be an apprentice out of worry that it would be bad luck to the Clan, Duskstar decided to give Honeypaw his warrior name at his vigil, even if he’d only been an apprentice for a moon and a half.

He was named Honeystream.

#Hiveclan #clangen: Hiveclan #clangen #warriors #cats #warrior cats #goosewccats #Hiveclan: Duskstar #Hiveclan: Beeflick #Hiveclan: Snaillake #Hiveclan: Roachchirp #Hiveclan: Leechpaw #Hiveclan: Mitepaw #Hiveclan: Mosquitofur #these definitely will not stay this long #but #as an origin story I felt like I needed to flesh it out more #Hiveclan: Journal #Hiveclan: Honeystream

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goosehascats · 4 months

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Moon 6: Part 1

CW: Emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, trauma response.

“Again, Mitepaw?” Duskstar said sternly, eyebrows furrowed. “Surely you can pounce on a field mouse.”

“I’m sorry, Duskstar,” Mitepaw said with a steely, determined expression. She had been struggling with hunting today, but she couldn’t figure out why. She was tasting the air, she had her ears on the swivel, perfectly down wind, but her pounces were just… Off, simply put. And she was paying the price now with Duskstar’s temper. She sat, back straight, but looking just down at Duskstar’s chest rather than at his eyes.

“Do you think sorry is enough, Mitepaw? Do you think sorry feeds mouths?” Duskstar’s tail lashed, though his body remained composed. His eyes were dark and his ears were turned back, and this was about as outwardly angry as Mitepaw had ever seen him. She continued to stare coldly at his chest, knowing that any flicker of emotion could warrant more berating.

“No, Duskstar.” Mitepaw’s voice was even, but she felt hot shame burn under her fur. She was better than this. She knew she was. And she had to be, she was Duskstar’s apprentice. His patience was not for her because she needed to represent him as a leader. If she went back to camp empty handed, what would that say about him?

“Then what is the problem.” Duskstar demanded. It wasn’t a question, it was a command to speak. To give him a reason. To give him ammunition for the next leg of his rant.

“I…” Mitepaw started. She knew she should have a reason. She knew that something should be different about today than yesterday, or any other day she’s hunted. She knew she was so close to her warrior name but if she kept having days like today, she’d never get there. So she needed something to be different, to be wrong. “I’m sorry, Duskstar.” She said again, tilting her head to stare solidly at the ground. “I’ve been distracted. I… I believe I had a vision from Starclan last night.”

The silence that fell between Duskstar and Mitepaw was thick and heavy. She felt her skin crawl over her, thousands of little legs pricking at her skin as she waited for him to believe her lie. Her legs began to just barely quiver when she felt a tail on her back. She looked back up to see Duskstar with an observant but neutral expression on his face, eyes lighter and eyebrows lifted.

“What did you see?” He asked in a soft, soothing tone. It was better than him being angry at her, but Mitepaw felt herself grow nauseous at the thought of having to give him details for a fake vision.

“Oh, well,” Mitepaw started, looking away from Duskstar. “It was… A dream that I had last night, and it was… Clear, but it was soft in the way dreams are. There was…” Mitepaw looked around the horizon, her eyes landing on an awkward hump in the ground. “A burrow. Perhaps a tunnel, or a den underground. Hollow dirt.” Her claws tore up the dirt underfoot. “And there were…” Fox-dung, what’s a Starclan-y sign?! Mitepaw thought to herself in a panic. “Um, stars. There were stars in the den underground. I was being chased, or maybe just followed. But I found some water, and… And then I woke up.”

“You just… Woke up when you saw the water?”

“Well, yes, but only… Only after I looked into the water.”

“And did you see yourself?”

“Um… No. No, I saw Honeystream there.”

“Hmm,” Duskstar hummed in thought, getting up on his paws to walk a circle around Mitepaw. “I see… I can’t quite make sense of it on my own, I think, but Snaillake would be rather delighted to hear this I’m sure.” Duskstar was purring by the end of his sentence, in a much better mood now. “Really, Mitepaw, I wish you had mentioned this sooner, this is far more important than a few field mice.”

“Yes, Duskstar. Sorry, Duskstar. I wasn’t… Sure if it was real or not, but I’ll make sure to bring up any more visions to you and Snaillake.” Mitepaw felt her chest tighten as if she was going to cry, or maybe vomit. If he finds out I’ve lied about this… She shook the thought from her head. She would keep up the lie. She had to. If the vision was vague enough, perhaps Snaillake wouldn’t be able to parse it either. And then maybe they could forget about it and Mitepaw could hunt better tomorrow. All that mattered now was that Duskstar wasn’t mad at her.

#clangen #clangen: hiveclan #hiveclan #hiveclan: duskstar #hiveclan: mitepaw #hiveclan: journal

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goosehascats · 4 months

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IM SORRY-? WHO the FUCK decided to name the poor little baby that DROWNED “HoneySTREAM”? How did Beeflick react to this decision?

CW: Death mention, grief, unhealthy reaction to trauma

Well that would be Duskstar :) He, in typical Duskstar fashion, had a conversation where he comforted Beeflick, proposed the idea of naming him a warrior in death to ensure better luck for the Clan and rest for the young cat, and she agreed. He promised her he would make sure he found a name that honored his life. And yk. What better way to do that than with the thing that ended it, right? Beeflick's reaction, after all of her crying and grief, was kind of just a stunned, resigned acceptance. No "how could he" no "that's so messed up" just. A pang of guilt and sorrow and pain and then. "This is how it's supposed to be." And that's kinda where the turning point from feeling like a failure to needing to internalize the guilt and blame herself in the name of control really starts to happen.

#Hiveclan #clangen #clangen: Hiveclan #Hiveclan: Asks #Hiveclan: Art #Hiveclan: Beeflick #Hiveclan: Duskstar

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goosehascats · 3 months

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Finally (for now) is Scuttlepaw on zulius's base. Scuttlepaw is a silver marbled tabby tom with pale green eyes and odd lying fur. His resting face is that of slightly perturbed inquisition, as if slightly concerned by all the things he's seeing. He is quiet, and often doesn't speak unless absolutely necessary. His mentor is Beeflick, who is feeling rather nervous about having another apprentice after Honeystream.

#hiveclan #clangen #clangen: hiveclan #goosewccats #hiveclan: scuttlepaw

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goosehascats · 5 months

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Moon 1:

CW: Reference to app death/unhealthy emotional relationships

Nearly a moon has passed since Honeystream’s vigil. Beeflick finds herself wracked with guilt over it. Duskstar has been gentle- reminding her that there will be more apprentices soon for her to train. She appreciates the optimism, and his willingness to trust her with another life, but it hasn’t eased some of her worries.

While she often found him cold and impersonal, she began drawing herself more toward Snaillake. He was rational. And sometimes painfully blunt, but Beeflick almost preferred the stabbing sensation of Snaillake calmly labeling Beeflick a negligent mentor. It felt… Correct, to acknowledge her shortcomings. If she felt as though it was her fault, then she could imagine herself having control over the situation. It wasn’t that Honeystream was small or the river too cold and heavy, it wasn’t that she trusted him when he said he could do it, and it wasn’t that she was scared of Snaillake and Duskstar seeing her as a coddling mentor, a weak warrior making more weak warriors. She chose to let Honeystream nearly drown, and that meant that she had always had control. Beeflick has everything under control. I have everything under control.

She thought this over and over to herself in the days following Honeystream’s vigil, and she started to accompany Snaillake on his herb patrols. While she knew she was at fault for Honeystream’s death, she still wanted to ensure he was as stocked up as possible to prevent such negligence from robbing the Clan of any more young cats. Snaillake never turned down the help, though he never seemed overly enthusiastic about the company of the young deputy.

On this patrol in particular, Beeflick found herself with a question.

“Do you think… Honeystream is watching us? In Starclan?”

“Perhaps.” Snaillake said coolly.

“... Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“Was he mad at you in his final days?”

“No,” Beeflick paused. “I don’t think so.”

“Then probably not. Of course, he probably didn’t think he was going to die, but he also probably didn’t think he’d have to cross that river alone.”

Beeflick flinched again, the pit in her stomach that had been there since Honeystream’s death tightening even more. But that was a good feeling, surely. Guilt meant she could be forgiven. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Snaillake said, eyes sliding over to her. “I’m the medicine cat. I’d be awfully terrible at my job if I couldn’t advise you on Starclan and the dead.”

Beeflick’s ears twitched, looking over at Snaillake. It was the most comforting thing he’d ever said, even in his annoyed, passive tone. She smiled just softly. “I suppose that’s true. Thank you, Snaillake.”

He just looked over Beeflick, letting a small breath through his nose. He looked ahead, and pressed his tail against hers lightly.

The rest of the patrol was done in silence.

#Hiveclan #clangen #clangen: Hiveclan #Hiveclan: Beeflick #Hiveclan: Snaillake #Hiveclan: Journal

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