ʙᴀᴍʙᴏᴏᴄʟᴀɴ - - ᴛʜᴇ sᴡɪғᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴏᴜs

Koipaw kept busy. For a typical cat, this phrase meant doing what was duty required of them for the day and turning in at the end of it for some well-earned relaxation. But unfortunately for Koipaw, "relaxation" wasn't in her vocabulary. She'd been up late the previous night and up early again this morning. Her eyes were heavy from exhaustion and she rubbed at her drooping lids with a little white paw, urging them to remain open. Her sight went in an out of focus as she stared at the herbs scattered around her paws. Bits of dried leaves and flowers clung to her downy coat and the scent of herbs hung around her heavily. The store she had unpacked had been organized and arranged by her last night, but something about it hadn't been to her liking and this had left her tossing and turning in her sleep the night before. Destroying all of her previous work to re-do it had pleased her originally, but now she felt foolish for it. She'd once again made more work for herself then necessary, but thus was her curse.

The apprentice had figured since she'd dug almost the entire store out once again that now would be a good opportunity to re-count the herbs she and Fallowfeather had tucked away for when the clan was in need. Neat piles had been stacked, organized according to their use. The calico was currently sorting out plants to aid in infection, counting out dried stalks of burdock, sifting through them and pulling out the occasional old or tattered roots for disposal. She counted mentally, blinking hard to focus her green eyes on her work. Five, six, sev... Her train of thought trailed off, her lids bobbing up and down slowly with sleep. She shook her head hard and began recounting, forgetting where she had gotten. One, two, three..... one, two.... Her head lulled and she hissed softly to herself is annoyance. What kind of medicine cat can't count? Focus! 

Harpyshriek had been out and about early that morning. She'd spent most of the night prior thrashing to-and-fro in her nest, unable to sleep peacefully. Although not typically one to take an interest in politics, the current lack of a deputy had been bothering her. The tabby-and-white was the strong sort, which meant she preferred strong leadership, and the idea of leaving the position empty for any amount of time bothered her. Harpyshriek had no ambition of filling the position herself--that was more responsibility than she cared for--however she had growing concerns about who would be appointed. The she-cat had never been the biggest fan of Peachstar. The tabby considered her too gentle and influence-able to lead and was holding out hopes for, in her mind, a "stronger" deputy. However, Harpyshriek didn't know how much she trusted her leader's judgement in her decision making.

The fluffy coated she-cat snapped herself out of her thoughts with a snort, realizing she was zoning out. She shot a glance around the main clearing of Bambooclan camp, wondering when things would get up and moving for the day. Patience was never her strong suit. She spared a moment to ponder on where her apprentice Vulturepaw was, but didn't give the issue much thought. Harpyshriek wasn't entirely fond of apprentices or kits, and even less fonder of being a mentor, but thus was her duty to her clan. She watched as Wrencrest exited the warriors den and as Fogdapple and Basilsnff chatted, wondering if it would be completely inappropriate to pull together a patrol without word from Peachstar. Harpyshriek's paws were itching for some sort of action.

The bulky tabby had been up early with the more... responsible warriors. However, with no new deputy having been appointed by Peachstar as of yet, there hadn't really been much structure to his morning lately. Cougarsnout had been doing a good job of filling in and managing patrols here and there in their leader's absence, but he had his paws full with Ravenwhisker in the nursery already. Boartusk experienced a strange pang in the depths of his gut when he thought about the pair and their unborn kits, but he couldn't place it. The tom just assumed he was feeling hunger, for he had yet to eat, but in reality, he was jealous. The emotion was strange to the tom, and even if he knew he was jealous, he wouldn't admit it. 

Boartusk had spent most of his morning pacing by the fresh kill pile, although he hadn't taken anything. He was taking stock of the prey and thinking about just how he'd have to go about refilling it. A senior warrior, like Cougarsnout, some of the deputy duties unspokenly fell upon him, although he didn't exactly have the social skills to fulfill many of them. However, on this morning, he was desperate to get moving, and figured a hunting patrol was needed anyway. He scanned the clearing with his green eyes, his gaze falling on Wrencrest. The young warrior didn't seem busy, so looked like a good candidate for patrol. Plus, Boartusk liked her. He typically didn't approve of many of the younger warriors, but Wrencrest had a spark to he that Boartusk liked to see in his clanmates. He approached the tabby slowly, his gait lumbering, and dipped his head in greeting. "Hunting patrol. Interested?" He grumbled, his voice low and tone gruff. The tom really did have a way with words.

Fogdapple had had his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his ashen coat. The heat was making him drowsy. He lifted one of his paws out of the water where it had been residing, running it along his cheek to spread the coolness of the water along his face. At Basilsniff's words, his peaceful expression clouded a bit and a small frown worked its way onto his face. While this really wasn't the thing he tended to think about, he did like Peachstar quite a lot, and the molly's words concerned him. It made him wish he'd been paying more attention to the politics and to Peachstar's grief, and wonder if there was anything he could have done for his leader.

Fogdapple let out a little sigh before he spoke, looking towards Basilsniff with his head cocked slightly to the side. "Now that you mention it... yeah." He confessed with a sad smile. "I know that the code says she should have picked someone new by now, but I'm sure it's hard. Peachstar probably feels terrible about the thought of replacing the old deputy. I think they were close." The young tom didn't know how much he agreed with this portion of the Warrior Code. Basilsniff did have a point about keeping the clan moving, but he did have sympathy for Peachstar's situation. It seemed a bit harsh that she was expected to replace a loyal friend of hers the day after they'd joined Starclan. 

"I wouldn't be too worried about it, though," He added, flicking an ear at Basilsniff's musings about the rest of the clans concerns. "Things seem normal enough, and the senior warriors have been taking care of things for the most part." When the molly brought up Cougarsnout and his unborn kits, the tom perked up a bit. He loved kittens, and even though he was a bit too immature to ever have considered having his own, the prospect of a new Bambooclan litter excited him. "There are plenty of warriors who know what they're doing. Cougarsnout has been doing a good job from what I've seen, but I can totally understand him wanting to be in camp with Ravenwhisker. It's probably really exciting for them, huh? Having a litter? It'll be fun to have kits around camp again."