M Mature famine

She knew it was coming. It was always toward the end of the season, and she’s had them plenty long enough to know the symptoms. Late in the night Swiftshadow woke up feeling not quite energized, but instead full of a restless vivacity that coursed through every hair on her pelt. At least the aches in her loin were gentle for now. Though, it was still enough to make her want to claw at her makeshift bedding.
“If I tear up my bedding I would have to fetch myself more tomorrow,” she thought ruefully. As quietly as she could, the molly crept out of the den, careful to not disturb her sleeping clanmates, and doubly careful to keep her tail down. It was hot and uncomfortable sure, but necessary to hide as much of her scent as possible. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing.
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When she broke out into the late-greenleaf moonhigh air, she took a deep breath. The coolness soothed her tongue and her burning nether region as she lifted her tail once more, thankful for the slight relief. She only pondered what to do next for a moment before deciding. She knew she had to get out of camp, and a gentle rumbling in her stomach told her exactly what to do. She briefly considered taking a piece of prey from the pile. Padding over and giving it a sniff, the molly nearly gagged. None of it looked particularly bad, but nothing was appetizing in the slightest. So, hunting it was.
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Running through the Forest of Flame was the easiest way she knew to combat heat symptoms. Her tail streaming out behind her, muscles rippling under her sleek pelt, claws ripping out clumps of grass... Nothing felt better. She didn’t want to get too far from camp, though. Once she had reached a spot that she deemed acceptable, Swiftshadow scented the air and could taste the savory perfume of a nearby squirrel. Her mouth started watering at the mere thought.
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The molly found her intended target at the gnarly roots of a tall tree nibbling on a seed. It was fat, likely preparing itself for the cold months to come.
“You’re mine,” she muttered, crouching. Her muscles itched to pounce. Her instinct told her it was the right time. So, she did. Pushing off on her hind legs and reaching out with the front, she landed... a tail-length ahead of where she needed to. Swiftshadow could hear the squirrel panic and scamper up the tree.
”Foxshit!” she hissed, clawing at the ground in frustration, her tail lashing. Her belly seemed to grumble louder just to spite her.
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〘heat day 1: heightened emotions, irritability, restlessness, strong and obvious scent, burning loins, increased appetite〙

Pinefire awoke to a gentle breeze. His first hazy thought was that he must have rolled too close to the cave entrance in his sleep. But there was no cave. He slept below the stars like almost everyone else in FireClan. He wasn't much for sleep anyway these days. At least the nights weren't as hot and sticky as they once were in deep summer. It took a heartbeat or two to discover the second thing that awoke him. The rustle of movement, and a lingering feeling of someone present nearby. He blinked away the rest of his grogginess to see a fleeting figure. He thought he must have been imagining it, but it was unmistakably a cat. A familiar one at that. 'It... can't be...Coalflower?' His dreamy mindset remained back at the old camp. Pinefire lifted himself to his paws and began a swift pursuit. What little moonlight there was streamed like claws through the trunks of the trees. The shadow did not seem to notice him, at least not yet. It slowed to sniff the air and he froze, believing himself caught like a kitten outside of bed late at night. It then appeared to be hunting, or perhaps tracking, and Pinefire lifted his muzzle to do the same. He didn't smell anything other than the forest. The scent of FireClan. A vague feminine odor. It was, perhaps, too soon or he was too far away to smell her heatscent. He crouched himself and attempted to remain hidden. He didn't know why. It felt like eavesdropping. Real or not, he wished to spy further on the black, ghostly femme. "speech." | thoughts.

This post rolled 3 in Perception

Swiftshadow wondered what to do next on her moonhigh excursion. Perhaps she could find another squirrel that would satisfy the ever-growing pit of hunger. That was at least one ache she could satisfy through her own means. The molly relished in the coolness of the breeze as it ruffled her soft fur. She always kept it as well-groomed as possble— her smoky coloring came to look scragglier much faster than normal coats, as any hair out of place looked like a burr in her pelt. It was rather annoying, really. She bent her head and gave her extra-fluffy chest fur a few licks for good measure.
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“You never know who you might stumble into this late at night,” she mumbled, licking one of her forepaws and drawing it over her ears. For a moment her mind wandered. She knew she left her clanmates behind, but the petit cat couldn’t help but fantasize about possibly meeting one of her clanmates out in the middle of the forest... unbeknownst to anyone else back at camp... perhaps someone strong and confident, like Frecklefrost... a moonhigh rendezvous, of sorts. The burning in her loins increase tenfold. She let out a hiss, halfway out of frustration, and the other half to try and relieve the prickling sensation in her pelt.
“Mousedung Swiftshadow, you can’t think things like that about other she-cats!” She cursed herself mentally, her tail lashing.
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She set out to find another squirrel. There was bound to be another one nearby. The molly opened her mouth and scented something... else. Something familiar.
“Pinefire?” She called out, scanning the undergrowth nearby until she spotted the faint white outline of FireClan’s leader, a dazed look in his eye. Immediately, she lowered her tail and hoped it was enough to disguise her heat-scent from the half-asleep tom. She padded over to him. Her paws barely made a sound as she approached. ”What are you doing out here so late?”
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〘heat day 1: heightened emotions, irritability, restlessness, strong and obvious scent, burning loins, increased appetite, increase in sexual desire〙

This post rolled 12 in Perception

The last of sleep blinked away from his vision as he drew closer to the distressed she-cat. She appeared to be mumbling, hissing, fitting to herself. He raised an eyebrow at this. She was very much alive, not an apparition of one long gone. Pinefire cursed at his hypocritical foolishness. He had half a mind to continue his voyeurism anyway, see who this was and what deviousness they might be up to, but the black molly found him first. 'What are you doing out here so late?' He tried to play it off coolly. He emerged from the undergrowth and lifted to his full height and shook out his pelt. "I might ask you the same thing--" Pinefire said, expressionless. However, at this closeness, her heat-scent was unmistakable. He didn't even have to try to smell it. His pupils dilated. His heart thumped. "--Swiftshadow." He brushed slowly past her and into the streaming moonlight. He had initially thought--once his kittish fantasy that it was his dead mate was over--that perhaps she was up to no good. A moonlit rendezvous with an EmberClan cat or, hell, StormClan even. He couldn't be too sure of anyone anymore after Emberheart's betrayal and he knew he would stick to that. That faint, mouthwatering scent told him all he needed to know. Pinefire turned, a predator silhouetted by the spotlight of the moon. "Couldn't sleep? Something... keeping you up?" Inquired the red-eyed tom with a tilt of his head; and a sickeningly sweet small smile. "speech." | thoughts.

When his pelt had brushed against Swiftshadow’s, her breath had caught in her throat. Pinefire wasn’t exactly the cat she imagined, but it was almost exactly the scenario she had envisioned just moments before. All of the moisture in the smoke molly’s mouth dried up the instant her leader stepped out of the shadow. His silky white fur glowed in the moonlight, and the red points lit up like flame. The molly’s ears flattened against her head when she saw the glint in Pinefire’s dark eyes. Her stomach rumbling provided her with a decent enough excuse. ”I couldn’t sleep, and I was hungry for a squirrel,” she explained. Technically it wasn’t a lie; she was just omitting part of the truth— the truth she kept securely covered with her tail. She knew it was pointless though. He could scent it and everything was ruined. There was no point in saying more than what needed to be said, anyway. ✷ For a brief moment the warrior was terrified. Pinefire was comparatively larger than her, and she knew he was a strong cat. His imposing silhouette made her heart race. Another part of her was disgusted. Why was it that most toms looked at her like this the moment they caught scent of her heat? The duality of her conflicting opinions only added to the physical anguish she was experiencing. There was the discomfort from covering her aching loins, the restlessness urging her to run, the constant itch making her claws sheathe and bury into the soft earth below her paws. She considered fleeing. It wouldn’t be that hard to outspeed Pinefire back to camp, but what then? He held authority over her there too. ✷ His syrupy voice and honeyed smile did not fool Swiftshadow for a moment. It made her fur crawl so intensely she crouched and looked away. ”If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my hunt,” she mewed, her voice sounding small and insignificant, much less confident than she had hoped. She could not make herself hold his chilling deep red gaze. There was little to no chance that he would allow her to leave. She could practically taste his hunger. But still, the small black she-cat had to at least attempt an escape— anywhere was better than here.

〘heat day 1: heightened emotions, irritability, restlessness, strong and obvious scent, burning loins, increased appetite, increase in sexual desire〙

Pinefire's eyes remained sultrily glued to Swiftshadow. They were far too close to camp for this encounter than he liked. It weighed over him like an all-seeing eye. He felt naked against it. Exposed... as Swiftshadow was. He swiped a tongue over his fangs. Oh, she had to be at least related to his dear Coalflower. A niece? A Cousin? In a way--and he loathed to ever admit it; in fact he'd deny the thought as soon as it entered his mind--she was prettier than Coalflower. It had to be her buoyant youth. The luster in her smoky, charcoal pelt. Her blacker-than-night skin. His mate, if she still lived, would be close to his age and would soon begin to gray in the muzzle. Not that Pinefire would love her any less for it. She would have been a silver fox. 'If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my hunt.' The noticeably different voice drew him away from his ghosts, but further into his pain. The lust drained from the leader's eyes, replaced by unfathomable sadness. They, perhaps visibly, dulled. "Very well." Mewed Pinefire. He started back towards camp. Only a few steps were offered in its direction, then he turned back. "Oh, but Swiftshadow..." An afterthought echoed in his eyes. Translucent in the half-light of the darkened sky. Pinefire gave a small, knowing smile. "Try a dip in the river. I've heard it helps." "speech." | thoughts.

Swiftshadow did not realize she was holding her breath until Pinefire verbalized her dismissal. She tried to make her deep sigh of relief as quiet as possible while the fur lay flat on her shoulders once more. The small molly dipped her head in response and stood, regaining her usual composure now that she knew the tom would do her no harm. ”Thank you,” she mewed simply, professionally. Even though her mind was racing she turned to leave. Had that been... sadness in his eyes? Since when did Pinefire care about what other cats wanted? Swiftshadow knew him to be the cat that took what he wanted when he wanted, with little to no remorse for others’ feelings or objections. If he truly wanted her he could have had her on the spot. ✷ Then, a memory flashed in her head. A familiar smoky she-cat in the old FireClan camp. It was Coalflower, a cat who was kin to her mother, Ravenberry. Swiftshadow couldn’t remember quite how they were related- perhaps they shared a mother, or they might even have been littermates. She wasn’t sure. But, she looked just the same as the living FireClan warrior did. Coalflower was Pinefire’s mate before she died in the Sun-Quake. Perhaps in his half-asleep state he saw not Swiftshadow, but his mate. If he had realized that she was not Coalflower, that would explain the sudden drop in libido. Still, it was odd to see her leader bear such an unbefitting attitude. ✷ She had gotten no more than a few steps away before she heard his voice call out again, returning to his habitual slightly aggressive and completely all-knowing tone. She turned to face him and met his red eyes flashing in the dark. His words sent a shiver down her spine and she couldn’t help but feel discomfiture flush her skin. The acknowledgement of her heat out loud was always something that embarrassed the silvered molly, always preferring to keep it to herself, but at least what he said made sense. Perhaps getting her paws wet was exactly what she needed to relieve her symptoms on her own. The coolness would feel nice, she imagined. ✷ exits to river.

〘heat day 1: heightened emotions, irritability, restlessness, strong and obvious scent, burning loins, increased appetite, increase in sexual desire〙