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Post by Sand on May 27, 2024 13:29:01 GMT -5
Oriolehop camp clearing — accompanied by: Burntears & Auburnpaw he/him - warrior
 Oriolehop hadn't done much with his day just yet as he had cleaned up his nest in the warriors' den early on. He wanted to see if Snowpaw or Buckpaw were in camp, but it appeared that Buckpaw was out with his mentor, Oakstreak. As for Snowpaw, the ginger and white tabby couldn't find his son anywhere. With a doubtful sigh, he settled down in the clearing. I wonder what they're both up to, he mused, his pale yellow gaze lingering on the apprentices' den. Maybe I can find both of them later. We can share a meal and have a chat about our days.
Oriolehop's ears twitched at the sound of his name– it appeared Burntears was going to invite him on a patrol. Well, at least it would give him something to do until dusk. He quickly got to his paws and made his way over to the warrior. "Hey, Burntears, Auburnpaw. I heard you say my name," he explained, flicking his tail to where he had been sitting before. "Did you say a hunting patrol? 'Cause I'm in– if that's okay, of course."
[ tags: 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 27, 2024 13:58:48 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears purred in joy upon the warrior's convenient arrival,"Yes! I was just about to get you once I talked with Auburnpaw." His good hearing would be great for the hunting patrol. She knew he had a deep bond with his sons, and the two had discussed the joys of parenthood and shared in their children's accomplishments over a meal multiple times over the moons. "I hope we catch lots!" Hunting was her favorite warrior duty before parenthood and really was trying to rekindle that flame.
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Post by aquatail on May 27, 2024 16:18:50 GMT -5
Silverfern
As she entered the nursery she saw goldenchill. She flicked her tail as a hello and went to sit in her nest. Her kits on the other hand had different ideas, they started doing summersaults in her stomach. Her kits didn't want her to get some sleep. What a shame. So she just sat awake waiting for something to happen.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 27, 2024 16:43:45 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
A storm had been expected. A clap of thunder in the form of a hiss, a strike of lightning in the form of unsheathed claws. Rain from rage fueled spit that accompanied the thunder. Yet…there was nothing. Rather than a storm there was an open landscape covered in ice. Cold, bleak, desperate for warmth, longing for something it could not have.
Buckpaw shivered. This was a chill not even his thick pelt could withstand.
He adored Oakstreak as a mentor despite how thorn sharp the dark brown tabby was. There was no other cat Buckpaw could imagine as his mentor, as the cat that passed down all their knowledge to him. Oakstreak knew so much about herbs and remedies that Buckpaw doubted he’d ever be able to learn it all, but he was willing. He was willing to learn and he wanted to learn. Everything that Oakstreak knew he wanted to know. Buckpaw was proud of who his mentor was, and yet…
How different would Oakstreak be if he had been made a warrior? Would his thorns be the soft petals of a rose? Would his eyes gleam with merriness rather than bitterness? Would his limp hurt less and his lips pulled into a smile more? If StarClan granted Buckpaw one wish in the entire world he would use it to wish Oakstreak the life of a warrior. He’d wish to go back and allow his mentor a chance at what he wanted, the chance to patrol and hunt, the chance to lay down beside the molly of his dreams, the chance to raise countless kits with her by her side. Buckpaw loved his mentor, but truly loving another was also letting them go.
With his jaws still full of various herbs, Buckpaw found himself silent. He leaned closer into Oakstreak, a silent gesture of comfort. The cream tabby wished to ease his mentor’s pain, but no herb or poultice could heal the wounds that had been cast upon his mentor - physically and mentally. Oakstreak had been dealt a rough paw from the start. If only there could have been some way to keep all of that from happening.
It was of some solace knowing that Oakstreak did have Paintedmask. The two were rather close, Paintedmask visiting his uncle on the regular, and when he did visit it did seem as if Oakstreak’s frown faded ever so slightly. Perhaps sometimes Buckpaw even noticed a smile on the old tabby’s face. It didn’t make up for the fact that his mentor lived in gloomy misery, but at least there was some resemblance of light in his life.
Knowing Oakstreak still had some cat that he cared about in his life was enough to perk Buckpaw right back up. Plumy tail lifting high in the air, his head craning upward as well, the young tom marched on, keeping an eye out for any more herbs along with the pinecone he was going to bring Snowpaw. Collecting herbs for the upcoming leaf-bare was important, but coveting a pine cone for his littermate was just as important, if not more.
( * note: this reply was written up before beaver became oak’s father )
Wisteriasnow »
The smallest of looks, the tiniest of glances. Not even a sharp-eyed jay would have noticed the judgment that crossed Wisteriasnow’s visage in the blink of an eye. After her display of affection toward Slatestorm, she was greeted with nothing in return.
Sometimes she wondered why she had ever agreed to have kits with Flinthawk.
Thankless children they were, never expressing any gratitude toward their mother. Had she not given them life? Had she not nursed them while they were still much too young for fresh-kill? Had she not been a constant presence in their life, offering encouragement and pushing them to be the best that could be for their Clan? And what did she get in return? Silence, failure, and impetuousness. She had been told over and over again that having kits would be the greatest joy in her life. How had her experience gone so wrong?
Wisteriasnow had known Silentshadow and Slatestorm to have been close as kits, even as apprentices, but their interactions had dwindled as of recently. Or at least from what the older molly had observed, though perhaps they were still rather close, still giving one another a piece of their time between whatever it was that they did throughout the day. Typically Slatestorm had something to say to her, but it seemed as if he had been taking one too many lessons from his mute sister. No matter, though. That could be something she worked with him on at some later point; perhaps even subtly ease her way into fixing this mistake while on the border patrol. Yet, if he remained silent, at least she had Palestream to converse with.
As the light colored molly took her place beside them, Wisteriasnow nodded in greeting yet again. ”Gingerflame wants us to patrol Scout’s Point. The markers haven’t been reset in some time,” she informed the younger cat with a level tone - the voice of a warrior speaking with a fellow warrior. Wisteriasnow and Palestream weren’t close. They were Clanmates, denmates, and fellow warriors, but that was about as far as their bond went. The two had not grown up together what with Palestream being some seasons younger than Wisteriasnow herself, but after Palestream had been named a warrior they had been on countless patrols with one another, hunting side by side, fighting side by side, becoming true Clanmates, true defenders of their home. Over the moons Wisteriasnow had noted just how well of a hunter Palestream was, especially when their territory was flooded with snow - the younger molly was a flicker of a ghost in the colder moons. Alas, this was not a hunting patrol. But what cat in their right mind would pass up the chance of a kill if they happened to come across prey?
With all her patrolmates accounted for, Wisteriasnow headed out of camp. Crisp mountain air hit her as soon as she slipped outside, and fortunately for the patrol, and the nearby camp, no signs of danger came along with that splash of wind. Perhaps all would go smoothly for the trio.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 27, 2024 17:05:13 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon  --------------------------------------------------------------------- The old tom quickly made his way to their target, the last of the herbs they needed. The old tom didn't hesitate to pass the herbs off to his apprentice to add to the ever growing garden stuck between his teeth. He rolled his eyes, thinking Buckpaw looked ridiculous. As the tabby turned around with a hobble, he noticed a pile of pinecones in the grass not to far. With a grunt, Oakstreak pushed off of Buckpaw's helpful shoulder and made his way to the pile. Without daring to look, refusing to acknowledge the kindness of his actions, he lowered his head to the pile. He sniffed a few out before picking up the two biggest ones he could fit in his jaws. He felt his fur grow warm with embarassment. He knew he looked ridiculous. Hobbling off back toward camp, the only acknowledgement to his apprentice was a tail flick, a command to follow him home.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 27, 2024 17:27:52 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
As the pair wondered in silence - which was due in part to Buckpaw's jaws becoming all the more full as the herb gathering progressed - Buckpaw pondered once again on everything his mentor had confided to him. Once upon a time Oakstreak, Oakpaw at the time, had been on the path of warriorhood. He had had a bright future ahead of him, a life full of promise, joy, and love. He would have had a mate who cherished him, kits who adored him, and most importantly, Oakstreak would have had a smile on his face. He would have enjoyed life and lived it to the best of his abilities. A life like that had surely sounded wonderful to a young minded apprentice, until that fateful day had come and left Oakstreak bitter and crippled.
Copper eyes strayed downward, catching a glimpse of where his mentor's missing limb should have been. Time had healed the worst of the scarring, brown tabby fur now covering where the damage had been dealt, but it was painfully obvious where exactly the wound had been made.
Buckpaw had never encountered a wolf before. They were rare in the territory. He recalled hearing distant sounds in the mountains many moons ago, when he had still been a kit at his mother's side in the nursery. They had been haunting noises, a melancholy song that echoed throughout the darkened woodland and somber mountains. He had asked curiously what the noise was, his mother replying 'wolves' with a hint of fear in her voice. Why she had feared the song of wolves, Buckpaw knew not at the time, but now that he was under the guidance of Oakstreak, he could see very well why his mother's voice had trembled with fright.
With all the necessary herbs gathered, Buckpaw's focus shifted from wolves to pinecones. They still had a little bit before they would return to camp, but time was running out for Buckpaw. If he wanted to find his brother a pinecone - and he was going to find Snowpaw one - then he had to do so quickly. Bringing him back two pinecones could mean the difference between no valleys between them and a valley pushing them away. Buckpaw didn't want any distance between him and his brother. He didn't want to end up like Oakstreak and Cedarstar, close at birth only to be pulled apart due to unfortunate circumstances.
As if reading his mind, Oakstreak pushed away from Buckpaw and ventured toward a tall patch of grass. Confused, Buckpaw watched as his mentor hobbled off. Had he found another patch of herbs? Buckpaw didn't recall any herbs growing in that particular area, but clearly Oakstreak knew more than what Buckpaw did.
When Buckpaw noticed what was in his mentor's jaws, his own went slack, the herbs falling into a pile at his paws.
"Pinecones!" He chirped, cream tabby fur puffing out with excitement. "I didn't even see those there! Oh, Snowpaw is going to love them! I'm gonna put them in his nest so that he sees them later and he's going to be so happy and I'm going to be so happy and then-" He was cut off from his long-winded chatter when the breeze swept a strand of borage over his paw, tickling the fur. "Oh!" The young tom reached down to pick the herbs back up, shooting his mentor both a sheepish yet mirthful smile all in one.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 27, 2024 17:55:23 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- Oaksteak stubbornly picked up the pace, not wanting to be seen in his rare moment of kindness by anyone else. The sooner they got to camp, he could spit the pinecones bitterly on the ground as if he never held them at all. The journey was silent, but quicker now that they had only one path to take. Thee old cat only slowed when the cliffsides got too steep, letting his dutiful apprentice help guide him down. As the familiar scents of getting ever closer to camp washed over him, he glanced back at his apprentice. Many cats were dull, unimportant, and frankly, annoying. Buckpaw may have been annoying, but a small seed of gratitude had grown in the old bitter cat's heart over time. Any other apprentice would have known they were just a means to an end for Oakstreak. If Buckpaw did happen to notice this, it seemed not to bother him regardless. At least, he thought, the future was brighter with these happy young cats. Sure his generation and much of their own parent's generation seemed bitter and jaded. Buckpaw and Snowpaw were a rare glimmer of hope for change.
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Post by whispering on May 27, 2024 19:02:08 GMT -5
The look of fear on her sister's face was enough to send her heart plummeting into the pits of her belly. Guilts' claws tightened their grip. Silentshadow sighed softly, looking away from her sister, hiding her shame. It hadn't been the first time she lost her temper with Rattlepaw.
The first time was the first time. Ever. The first time she realized was angry. The red haze lived inside her like a tricky tick she couldn't pinpoint. Or a spirit that possessed her, overwhelming her entire body with fury. It'd been a rough session with Wisteriasnow, an even longer morning with Briarwhistle before their outing. Let's see the move again. Her mother ordered, watching her like a piece of prey. Silentpaw, wobbly-legged and tired, reluctantly fell into the stance and fought her brother. Over and over, they repeated, but Silentpaw couldn't get it right. I can't. She growled suddenly, I'm going back to camp. But the piercing claws of the masked molly stopped her from retreating any further. Her jaws gaped into a silent wail. Silentpaw obeyed for the rest of that lesson, the birth of her anger. Rattlepaw tried to comfort her, but her sister's touch sent her over the edge. Fur bristling, Silentpaw snarled, "Get out of my fur, will you?" Racing ahead to avoid the look of hurt in those blue eyes.
Silentshadow apologized; she was just stressed and overworked. Things had been quiet up until the evening after their warrior assessment. "You failed?" Silentpaw gawked in disbelief, all her excitement quickly melting away. The anger grew by the second, making her fur hot and her skin itch. Her claws sank into the earth of the apprentice's den. "What, is there nothing but thistledown in your brain?" Her growl grew more fierce the more she thought of how bad of a decision this all was. Rattlepaw must become a warrior; they planned to escape their mother together! Blinded by her fury, Silentpaw carelessly clawed their bedding, separating herself from her sister. She hadn't known it then, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in seeing the desperation on her sister's face. "Save it. Nothing I say or do will amount to what mother will do when she gets word."
Don't ever speak to me again.
They'd made up, but Silentshadow was beginning to see the pattern. She was supposed to protect Rattlepaw, her escape from the world. They were the only ones who could understand each other, after all. But the more she let it fester, the more her anger grew. The harder it was for her to tame it, to not lash out at the one cat she cared for more than any other. Was she just as bad?
No. I'm just stressed. Her dreams of Flinthawk were putting her on edge. She would never go as far as Wisteriasnow. She'd never hurt her sister. I am not like her. She sighed, turning her attention back to her sister. There was no point in apologizing more. Rattlepaw was a cat who needed to see the change. The three siblings knew all too well; words were just that.
"It started the night of our warrior ceremony," Silentshadow responded quietly. Our didn't mean the sisters, just Slatestorm and herself. As much as the topic hurt her, Silentshadow didn't dwell on Rattlepaw still being an apprentice. It was disappointing, yes, but could she blame her? Having the motivation to be freed of your terrible mother was a waste if it didn't stop at being a warrior.
"Let's hunt." She suggested softly, rising to her paws. They could walk and talk. Perhaps it would cheer her sister if she could catch something.
His ears grew hot, and panic flared up inside the tom for a second. But as quickly as it came, he shook it off, replying smoothly, "She's just tired lately. Being clan leader is a big transition for her." Briarstar would have his ears if only she could hear him now. Eagleswoop knew his mate was far from incapable of her duties, but it was only Snowpaw. Who would the apprentice run off to tell? Every cat already knew of her sickness. Saying she was only tired was the closest thing to the real cause of his mate's confinement.
As if StarClan themselves sent the distraction, Greyhawk approached the two. Eagleswoop's ears twitched with interest. He pondered on the proposition a moment. A hawk near the brook, eh? A low growl rumbled, and he flexed his claws. It was time to start testing Snowpaw's skills. His ceremony was in one moon, and he needed to ensure the young tom was prepared. It was more crucial now than ever. But defeating a hawk would be far more victorious. It was still morning, they had plenty of time for a skills test. Besides, this was his chance to rid of threats that could harm his family. They needed to send a message for hawks not to come so close to their camp.
And Greyhawk? Did he think of his children? A pang of sorrow pierced his heart. StarClan forbid he ever experience the pain of losing kits. For once, Eagleswoop wasn't sure what he would do if bad occurred to Briarstar or their unborn children. What would even be the point afterward? The grey warrior was more than noble to live on after such a tragic event.
"Of course, we'll join you." The warrior dipped his head respectfully, it would be an honor to fight beside his senior. He had heard how Greyhawk killed a hawk himself and earned his warrior name. Would the same happen for Snowpaw if they won the fight? Will he be Snowhawk. He mused, glancing over his apprentice. Taking in the sight of his eagerness and his young muscles. Over time, he'd grow into them as he became an experienced warrior. He was ready.
"Lead the way."
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 27, 2024 19:13:58 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; whispering ladylantsov  --------------------------------------------------------------------- The young tom felt a flurry of emotions hit him all at once. A hawk. A terrifying yet exciting venture. He flexed his claws before beginning to sprint toward the enterance,"That hawk stands no chance against Coniferclan!" The apprentice purred into the air. He waited for the others to catch up before venturing too far, previous conversation completely forgotten. Snowpaw would be lying if he said he wasn't a little afraid, hawks were known for their sharp talons and large wings. He puffed out his chest in compensation of his fear. He had to make his mentor proud by taking this hawk down. He wanted to earn such an accomplishment for the both of them. Besides, he couldn't help but imagine Rattlepaw being at least a little impressed if he managed to help take down a hawk. Surely that could bring a smile to her face. For her. For his mentor. For Buckpaw!
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 27, 2024 20:57:34 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
Buckpaw always enjoyed herb gathering patrols. It was one of his favorite parts about being a medicine cat apprentice, save for learning all about herbs and gaining knowledge on what they did and what they cured. Herb patrols allowed him a chance to get out of camp and explore the land that ConiferClan had to offer. He sometimes wondered if the way he felt about herb patrols was the way his family thought about their own patrols. He'd have to ask at some point. Perhaps when Snowpaw returned to camp, or Oriolehop. At some point or another he would ask one of his family members and together they could compare their outside experiences.
The familiar chatter of cats nearby told of camp's proximity before Buckpaw was even aware that he and Oakstreak had made it back. He proudly followed after his mentor, tail and head held high as he slipped back into the comforts of camp. A lot had changed since they had left - the main atrium was mostly empty save for a few stragglers still within the confines of camp. Gingerflame must have sent out most of the patrols for the morning, the deputy gathering the last one up at present. Again Buckpaw wondered what it was like to be a warrior; he didn't want to be a warrior, not how Oakstreak did, but he was still curious about that way of life all the same.
Once he and Oakstreak had made it back into the medicine cat den, Buckpaw sat down the herbs gently upon the ground. He then turned to Oakstreak, copper eyes wide and full of admiration for the older tom in front of him. "Thank you for grabbing those pinecones for me! Snowpaw is going to be so excited!" The little tom quivered with excitement, tail to nose twitching with a burst of energy. Even after tracking through half the territory Buckpaw still had it in him to go on for much longer.
Rattlepaw »
Anger. Every cat eventually felt that emotion toward her. She wasn't good enough. She was pathetic. She was weak. She was lazy. She was all that and more, and she knew it was true. There was no denying that all of that described her perfectly. She heard it from her mother all the time, had even heard it from Silentshadow during her spells of anger. Rattlepaw had seen it in the eyes of her Clanmates, how they at first had pitied her until that pity turned into silent disgust. Cats no longer believed in her. They didn't think she had it in her. And they were right. Rattlepaw had given up on herself as well. She no longer had it in her for no matter what she did, it was never good enough.
This wasn't the first time Silentshadow had sparked anger toward Rattlepaw. It wouldn't be the last, either. Each and every time Rattlepaw had strayed away from her sister after her bout of anger, confused and hurt, but not surprised. Wisteriasnow lived in all of her kits, but sometimes when Rattlepaw looked at her sister all she could see was their mother.
Sharp eyes, amber instead of blue, bristling pelt, black instead of white and gray.
Her sister was a shadow of their mother.
A silent shadow of her.
Where Wisteriasnow made herself known, Silentshadow kept to herself. Her anger was quiet and unpredictable. Wisteriasnow's was loud and expected. Rattlepaw knew what tipped her mother off the edge, but she had yet to figure out what all tipped Silentshadow over.
She still didn't know if that was scarier or not.
Yet for as much as she was afraid of her sister at times, she kept crawling back. Silentshadow was the only other cat who truly understood her, the only other cat that still wanted to have something to do with her - even if there had been a time when Silentshadow had spat at Rattlepaw, promising her that they would never speak again. Rattlepaw had crawled right back to her sister after some time, heart broken and begging for forgiveness. "I'm sorry I'm not a warrior yet, Silentshadow. Can you forgive me? I'm trying, I promise. I'm trying..."
How pathetic she was.
How much of a liar she was. Why had she dared even tell her sister that she was trying when it was clear that she wasn't? Why had Silentshadow agreed to let Rattlepaw back into her life after that.
Pathetic. Stupid. Useless.
Rattlepaw shifted on her paws. Her eyes scanned the shaded forest. If she ran away would her sister actually care? Rattlepaw wanted to say that Silentshadow would, but there were doubts. There were always doubts.
Her warrior ceremony. Silentshadow's and Slatestorm's. Rattlepaw would never have her own, she knew that much. She didn't deserve a warrior name, didn't deserve such an honor. That had been something that tipped her sister off the edge, Rattlepaw not standing beside her littermates as Cedarstar named them warriors in their turns. All three of them should have celebrated their achievements together, yet they hadn't. They couldn't because of Rattlepaw. Instead of congratulations and celebration, Rattlepaw had received a shredded nest and the foul disappointment of her sister as the pointed molly had tried to make amends.
"Silentpaw, I'm sorry I failed! I'll try harder, I'll...I'll..."
"Save it. Nothing I say or do will amount to what mother will do when she gets word."
And then Silentpaw had left. She had left Rattlepaw. Among the tattered tendrils of moss that had once been their nest, Rattlepaw had curled up and wished she had never been born. Instead of celebrating her littermates' warrior ceremony, she had been holed away among the ruins.
Her sister had been right about their mother. Dawn had approached after Silentshadow's and Slatestorm's ceremony, and instead of her mentor rousing her from slumber, it had been Wisteriasnow. She had acted calm and collected, doting even, while in camp, yet once they had stepped further away from camp, away from any prying eyes, Wisteriasnow had pounced.
"Why aren't you a warrior like your littermates?"
Claws tore into Rattlepaw's pelt. She wanted to cry out, but didn't have the energy to do as much. Silentshadow abandoning her had drained all the energy she had had. "I'm tr-trying."
Blood trickled warmly down her face as her mother's claws clipped away the tip of her ear. "If you were trying you'd have your warrior name, too! If you were trying to be a warrior you'd know how to defend yourself!"
Claws slashed her flanks. Fangs sank into her scruff. She remembered being held down, nose in the ground, as her mother battered her like a piece of prey. Rattlepaw had fallen limp, remaining listless even after her mother had finally had enough and stormed her way back to camp. The apprentice didn't return back to camp for five sunrises after that. She had almost fled the territory entirely, but the ache in her heart for her sister had been too much. So she had returned. She had returned sobbing and apologizing to her sister, hoping to be welcomed back.
And she had been. Silentshadow had allowed her to come back into her life.
But for how long?
Rattlepaw followed after Silentshadow, mostly doing so out of fear that if she didn't the black molly would turn against her. Her tongue fumbled as she tried to figure out what to say, how to respond. What could she say that wouldn't strip away at her sister's patience? "How...often does it happen?" Surely that had to be a safe question to ask. It was a question that showed concern, right? A question that showed she was listening and wanting to learn more about this situation so that she could better help Silentshadow.
Blue eyes shifted anxiously around the woods. She needed to have an exit in mind just in case the worst happened.
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on May 27, 2024 22:00:54 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt’s pawpads felt almost like a kit’s again against the harsh forest floor. He hadn’t been prepared for this long of a journey, and he had gotten used to the easy walks he had in the camp. He wondered if it was a good idea to accompany Briarstar on her walk. Probably not for his pawpads, but he was enjoying the conversation. He could always stop by Oakstreak’s den once he was back for his sore pads. And to check in on his son. That would be good as well.
Beaverpelt dipped his head as Briarstar mentioned the litters. “Yes, we want to be sure the kits make it…” he trailed off. Goldenchill’s loss of her litter was devastating. Beaverpelt had been excited for the new blood in the clan, but they had all gone to StarClan so soon. He hadn’t witnessed a loss like that for moons and moons.
Beavepelt took it slower over the rocks than Briarstar, appreciating her patience with him. A good leader, he thought warmly. She does care for her weaker and smaller clanmates.
“I have faith in us,” he said in response to Briarstar’s worries. “This is our ancestral home. It will care for us.”
He closed his eyes as they entered the whispering woods. The cool breeze and voices of cats gone before surrounded him, making him feel lighter as he trotted into the trees. He opened his eyes and surveyed the territory around him to see if any prey was moving. |
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 27, 2024 22:01:06 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- As he set the pinecones gingerly into Buckpaw's section of the den, he felt his old bones finally start to catch up to him. He felt wobbly and weak, now that his journey has finished. He barely made it to his nest, and plopped into it haphazardly. He breathed deeply, looking over his apprentice. "Don't get old. It's exhausting." He grumped. Although many years of his life had been devoid of a full night's rest, he felt it particularly strongly in this moment. He considered napping, but when he closed his eyes for too long the only thing he could see was the large, bristling wolf of his nightmares. His deep, green eyes scanned their den, looking to the hole he had spent years carving out in a discreet part of the wall. Where the deathberries were stored. Where a few still remained. His eyes flicked between them and his apprentice. He hoped Buckpaw would never see it. It might be the one thing to ruin his apprentice's ever joyful attitude forever. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this." A heavy sigh escaped him. He just wanted to spend his days in the elder's den already. His body craved the rest desperately.
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Post by Dew on May 28, 2024 14:33:16 GMT -5
 Gingerflame Gingerflame dipped his head to Burntears as she padded away, calling to Auburnpaw. He then turned and scanned the camp for his apprentice, Owlpaw. The apprentice was in the middle of his apprenticeship, so he still had things to improve on and learn. Older apprentices could be a little too show-offy for him, and younger ones could be a little annoying. But, it all depended on the cat.
Finally spotting the cream tom, Gingerflame made his way over, his long ginger fur ruffling a little in the mountain breeze. "Hello Owlpaw. We are going hunting today" He said once he reached his destination, flicking his tail back and forth. Yes, he had enjoyed his time with Silverfern, but now his claws were iching to leave camp, to catch something. How do the queens stay in camp for so long? I could never. It was something that he would have to ask, when he got the chance. Maybe after the kits become apprentices. Although he would never admit it, Silverfern could scare him sometimes, with her boldness. It was one of the reasons he was so attracted to her. But she had a sweet side, the side that he usually saw, the part that most of the clan usally saw. Well I'll be able to sleep well at night, knowing that she is there to protect our kits.
Him/Him - Warrior
whispering
 Palestream Palestream nodded her head towards her clanmates, waiting until they both started moving before she followed them. Being in camp all morning hadn't necessarily woken her up, and the refreshing mountain caught her quite off guard. It was like when she was an apprentice, first day out of camp. The only air she had known was the stuffy air of the nursery and the air around the camp, which wasn't as refreshing as this. Scout's Point. The rocky outcropping had always scared her a little, and she normally wasn't assigned there anyways, with her lightly colored fur.
Now that she thought about it, it was rare that she went there at all. Palestream knew the territory enough to know how to get there, but it wasn't as if she was assigned there regularly. The first time was when her mentor had brought her there, the last was shortly after she had gotten her warrior name. She suspected the dangers were the same as the rest of the territory, although wasn't it a little safer from land predators? That was the entire point, right? Palestream shook her head lightly, clearing her mind. She just needed to focus on the patrol, not meaningless nonsense.
She/Her - Warrior Feathertalon , ladylantsov  Auburnpaw Auburnpaw was now really happy that she had licked the smell out of her fur. Well, most of it. The smell of the ash and burning wood still lingered, but hopefully a walk through the fresh-air would replace it. Auburnpaw scanned the camp, only to see that Greyhawk had left- without her! No matter, Burntears was coming towards her now. She remembered the warrior when she was a queen, and the fact that she was really nice.
"I would love to go!" Even if she was a little tired. When I get back I can take a nap. Auburnpaw suppressed a yawn, turning her head when Oriolehop came up to the pair. "I hope so too! Where are we hunting?" She asked, turning her head to look back at Burntears.
She/Her - Apprentice
𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰, Sand |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
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Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 28, 2024 17:20:37 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
While overly excited about the pinecones, Buckpaw still perceived the weariness that lolled off his mentor like snow falling from the sky. The trek around the mountainscape might have been easy to Buckpaw, and he could have easily walked even further than that, but for his mentor, the task had been challenging. Oakstreak was getting older every day. Not only that, but the joint that held the brunt of the damage done to his missing limb was surely riddled with arthritis. Bones ached all the more in this sort of the wether; after all, it had been the coming cold that had seeped into Sorrelsnap's body and guided his paws to the elders' den. Oakstreak wasn't far behind Sorrelsnap, and soon he would be able to peacefully rest in the comforts of a warm den that Buckpaw would see to tending to daily. Even after his mentor retired Buckpaw was determined to visit him every day, perhaps much to the chagrin of the old tom.
Holding back a chuff of laughter through a twitch of the whiskers and a carefree roll of the eyes, Buckpaw approached his mentor. He nudged him gently with his nose. "I'm gonna get old eventually. Every cat does," he mewed, knowing full well that his mentor was aware of that. Aging could not be avoided. It was something that could not be cured and was just a natural part of living. One day Buckpaw would be an old tom just as his mentor, creaky and tired after gathering herbs. He wondered if his future apprentice would care about him as he cared about Oakstreak.
Stepping a few mouse-lengths away from his mentor, Buckpaw sat down, curling his plumy tail tightly around his paws. Concern flashed in his gaze, head tilting as he looked down at the ragged form of Oakstreak. "Would you like for me to make you something to soothe your bones? We have plenty of juniper I can mix with ragwort and daisy," he mewed, already standing up to gather the three herbs he had just listed. With Sorrelsnap's join inflammation and pain as bad as it was, Buckpaw always that that particular remedy ready to go at a moment's notice.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 28, 2024 17:48:03 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew--------------------------------------------------------------------- The she-cat pondered the question Auburnpaw had thrown at her. Burntears then remembered her favorite place, where she and he mate would frequently fish together. "Theforest area around the brook is probably a good place to start. I'm sure we'll at least find a fish if we go there." She lead the group out into the forest, keeping herself light on her paws. Her mouth was open to detect any prey scents along the way. She was so excited, and hoped her companions were as well. A good hunt was sure to help her get back into the swing of warriorhood.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak did not answer, knowing well enough that Buckpaw would do as he liked regardless. An ever present hollowness that he never was quite able to shake had come to the forefront of his awareness now. Dissatisfied. Lost. Heartbroken. All of those words were just another part of daily life for the old tomcat. He let his ears pick up the ever decreasing chatter of the camp around him, absorbing it. This camp would long outlive him and he would eventually be forgotten. A whisper on the wind if anything at all., yet he couldn't be sad about it. He felt morbidly calm about the whole thing, especially since he was well aware of just where he would end up for his afterlife. He briefly looked at his apprentice making herbs before shifting in his nest, turning away from him and the entrance to the rest of the world. A low, bitter growl was barely detectable coming from the tom, the only signal of how truly lost he felt. Sometimes, he wondered if the clan would be better off without him. If he had never been born, the clan could have been a much better place. Echoes of his former leader's words hit him again, being reminded of the disappointment and disgust he had drawn from someone he looked up to. All because of his failure.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 28, 2024 19:36:47 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
It was the lack of a response that worried Buckpaw. His mentor was usually so quick to snap back with a heated reply, a sharp retort. It was the typical happening within the walls of the medicine den - Buckpaw would say or ask something and Oakstreak would have some snappy response. Most cats would lurch away at such a hot tempered healer, but Buckpaw found it comforting. It was how Oakstreak had always been, and not getting by a single response, especially a scathing one, from the old tom concerned him. Age was really catching up to him.
It was a grim reminder that Oakstreak wouldn’t live forever. It was a gloomy prompt that the brown tabby tom had aged worse than other cats before him. It was known that some felines could live for ages, dipping their toes well into the cycle of over one hundred moons. Buckpaw smoothed a juniper berry onto the petals of a daisy, juices tickling at the fur between his toes. This poultice was just another reminder that Oakstreak was old. Not the oldest cat in the Clan, but his age had well caught up to him.
He hoped the tabby healer would have seasons of rest inside the elders’ den once he retired. Surely StarClan would grant him one of his wishes. They had pushed him off the path of a warrior, had taken away his chance at a mate, and had stolen his limb. Surely they’d allow him some well deserved rest amongst the elders.
One more moon of service…that’s all Oakstreak had left in him.
Buckpaw gently grasped the completed poultice in his jaws. Was he ready to be the sole medicine cat of ConiferClan in just one moon?
”Where does it hurt the most?” The creamy tabby had an idea on where his mentor’s pain flared, but he wanted to be sure before he just slathered the poultice on. Assumptions were not always wise to go with, and as a medicine cat in training, Buckpaw had to show that he knew how to listen and respect his patient, especially if that patient was his own mentor.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 28, 2024 20:31:05 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- The old tom finally spoke up,"Where do you think it hurts? My joints." He figured if he was snappish again it would lessen Buckpaw's worry. He even adjusted how he was positioned to make it easier for the apprentice to help him. At least it would ease his suffering enough to help Buckpaw check up on their clanmates. He felt a surge of strength be regained with the familiar sent of a poultice filling his nostrils. For better or for worse, he managed to regain his sense of self now."I am going to test you when Silverfern's litter arrives. If you are to be a Medicine Cat all on your own, helping a queen give a clean, safe birth is going to be one of your most important duties. I will still watch over you and step in if I must, but it will be up to you to protect her." Once the poultice had been applied, he continued,"There can always be more kits, but the lives of the clan queens are most sacred." With just how many deaths clouded Coniferclan's recent history, he didn't want the weight of more of them on his apprentice's shoulders.
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Post by ladylantsov on May 29, 2024 4:46:19 GMT -5
SLATESTORM
The grey-furred warrior followed his mother back toward the camp entrance, where they settled to wait for the final member of their party to deign to join them. His impressive bulk shifting, as it often did, to form a barrier between Wisteriasnow and the blistering cool of the leaf-fall winds. From an outside perspective the sight probably would have seemed sweet, a warrior protecting his parent from the bitter colds.
But his actions were borne more from some sense of obligation than it was sentimentality.
Stiff bones organising themselves out of habit in the way that would promise the least arguments - not none, he'd learned quickly none was a fantasy. Where the sweet scent of her wraps around him, but Slatestorm can hardly stand the smell of the shecat he knew as mama.
Too often had it been sullied by the metallic stenches of blood, that he could hardly smell one without automatically picturing the other.
Even mama was a name he used of obligation than sweetness.
Twin sets of ice blue eyes follow Palestream's path as she makes her way over to them, the grey warrior nods a polite greeting and a "Good morning," but otherwise hasn't much to say. They were clanmates, but not particularly close ones, especially as - from what the tom could tell, this pale-furred shecat preferred to spend her time with the nursery queens, particularly Burntears. Whereas the tom ideally spent as little time as possible around the den filled with squealing bundles of fur and the mothers that fawned endlessly over them.
Slatestorm's ears twitch as he listens to his dam explain their morning assignment. Easy enough work, he couldn't see a reason they couldn't be back in camp before the sun was at its highest point. Hopefully by then hunting patrol's would be back, and he could deal with the hunger gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He keeps his eyes from drifting toward a fresh-kill pile he already knows to be fairly empty.
Inwardly flinching in anticipation of the swat his mother would give him over the ear for thinking of feeding himself before his Clan. But he could easily argue a half-starved warrior was a warrior who couldn't fulfil his duties.
Easily argue with a rabid badger maybe, not his mother.
So Slatestorm follows the two paler-furred mollies out of the camp, for a tom of his size his pawsteps were remarkably quiet on the cold earth beneath them. Grey fur hides clawmarks from every audible pebble kicked, every branch-cracking from a misplaced mammoth paw. He'd learned quickly to watch where his paws stepped.
Physically and mentally both.
Its a comfortable quiet, at least in the warrior's book, that settles over the trio as they head toward the higher parts of the territory. Where clouds settle like blankets of white over the mountains, until the jagged mark on the landscape that is the Scout's Point comes into view.
His nostrils flare as they take in an acrid scent, one that settles in his lungs and ignites something in his veins. "Badger," he echoes the warning instinct had set off aloud. A day old, maybe a little older.
The two mollies would scent it easily enough, but he could already hear the admonishment of his mother if he hadn't been quick enough to notice the scent first. Ice blue eyes settle on his mother, awaiting an order like sunflowers await the rising of the sun.
Chase after it, even beyond the Territory's marked borders.
Put an end to any risk to the clan, regardless of a cost to himself.
Prove yourself, but he was quickly learning he would never prove himself good enough. |
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Post by ladylantsov on May 29, 2024 6:04:12 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
The comment about making sure kits make it made something stick in the back of the large shecat's throat. Dryly she swallows past it, but she can track the path of it down, as it ends up in the pit of her stomach, where it expands into something not unlike concern. If anything visible sparked to life on her face at the emotion, Briarstar would have just as easily shrugged it off as concentrating on where she sets each paw.
"Silverfern is a strong shecat," she agreed, a slight hint of distraction to her words, but moved on before her companion could think too much on it. "I'm sure you're looking forward to having little bundles of fur chasing you about the Camp."
The little ones will be fine. Judging on how ferverantly they kicked and squirmed inside her already, little warriors contesting for space with her ribs and internal organs. She could only assume they quite liked her attention, for failing to think about them for more than ten minutes seemed to quickly prompt a reminding barrage of movement.
You've turned soft, she admonishes herself, though she could imagine the queue of clanmates who'd laugh at the assertion. The kits will be fine.
But how often had someone like Goldenchill told herself the exact same thing? Her whiskers twitch with disconscertion,
With leafbare on the horizon, her clan needed her to be anything but.
She carried her Clan within her, though maybe more metaphorically than she did these kits.
Her ears twitch, picking up on the hitch in her clanmate's breathing as the terrain grows more difficult beneath them. She does her companion the kindness of not mentioning it aloud, not suggesting he turn back and head for home, but adjusts her pace accordingly. Traversing the rocky inclines with ease - this was the only home she had ever known, her paws calloused from moons journeying these familiar paths. But she supposed her clanmate was out of practice, and sore from moons in service to his Clan.
Part of her feels a little bad for suggesting he accompany her, though Briarstar had hinted at no obligation to say yes. Though supposed no matter how careful she was, her Clan would always feel in some way obliged to agree with her requests. It was a balance she was learning to make.
Only 5 moons into her reign, there was already more to learn than she'd ever paid much thought to.
She was in no position to judge - she already felt cumbersome. And judging with how much Silverflame's belly had swollen, Briarstar still had a way to go and at the idea of growing yet rounder, she grimaces slightly. She already felt enormous enough.
The journey took longer than she'd have liked on account of her companion huffing and puffing beside her, and her own cheeks grew slightly warm when she realised even she was becoming slightly winded with the effort. Fortunately, just as she was about to face the humiliation of asking to pause for a breather, the towering canopies of the first of the Whispering Woods' treeline comes into view. Even early into leaf-fall, the first of its leaves were beginning to go shades of reds and yellows, and the shadows cast by the trees quickly swallowed them.
From habit, the molly pauses. Ears straining for any hint of voices past on, lyrical and faint like a gentle breeze weaving through the trees. She tried, truly, but the Woods had no encouragement to offer her that morning.
She took that a deep breath, letting the coolness of it sweep through her. The familiar scents of open mountain air and pines filling her lungs, steadying her. ConiferClan would survive, it always did. How long had the trees that surrounded her now turned red and yellow, then dead all together as the weather changed. Only to spring back to life when the season turned warm once again?
Her nostrils flare, catching the scent of squirrel quite quickly. |
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Post by Sand on May 29, 2024 11:27:25 GMT -5
Oriolehop coniferclan territory — accompanied by: Burntears & Auburnpaw he/him - warrior
Oriolehop waved his tail at Auburnpaw in greeting when he realized that Greyhawk was not in camp. Had he left camp without his apprentice? The warrior did his best to not frown as he listened to Burntears explain where they would be hunting. Oriolehop wasn't great at fishing, but there could be some water voles nearby that he could catch instead.
The ginger and white tabby tom took up the rear of the patrol, making sure that Burntears and Auburnpaw were ahead of him. Even though they were a small patrol, he was sure that the trio would catch enough for the clan.
"Burntears, when was the last time you led a patrol?" Oriolehop asked genuinely. He knew the warrior had been in the nursery at the same time as Honeyskip. The tom could only imagine how long it had been since she hunted with her clanmates, especially with her kits being apprentices now. The change from a regular life as a warrior then to parenthood was definitely a culture shock for most.
[ tags: 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 29, 2024 12:23:47 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew sand --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears felt the wheels turning in her brain as she tried to recall. "It's been a long time. If I can remember correctly, I think the last time I lead a patrol was several leaf-falls ago." Her mind filled with the beautiful memories, remembering how she and Hareskip were competing for who could catch the most prey. "Hareskip tried to motivate me by challenging me to a prey catching contest...he always won, but he was always proud of me anyways." Memories of her mate stung at her, wishing he were here. She had gotten a lot more scattered and unmotivated since his death, having at least had the motivation to impress him before. A soft sigh left her as she lead her patrol toward the brook. She could swear that the scent of the fire always lingered around the forest faintly, at least when she was about.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
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Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 29, 2024 20:12:48 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
There it was. There was the familiar scorch in Oakstreak’s words that Buckpaw had grown accustomed to in the last five moons.
He couldn’t help but chuff in amusement, a smile lighting his features. Where most cats would run away from Oakstreak with their tail tucked between their legs, Buckpaw felt compelled to sit and stay for a while. The crabby healer didn’t scare Buckpaw one bit. For all of Oakstreak’s griping and complaining, he knew his mentor wouldn’t do anything to him. He was an annoyed old cat, not a monster.
Paws that had once fumbled with the stickiness of a poultice over the course fur of a patient slid smoothly across Oakstreak’s pained joints. The apprentice had improved greatly over his moons of education. ”I knew that,” he mewed with a purr, inwardly laughing over his mentor’s harshness. ”But I wanted to make sure. Wasting herbs on assumptions is bad in every season, but worse in leaf-bare.” Surely the old tom would remember the words he had spoken to Buckpaw some moons ago. It had been part of one of the cream tabby’s first lessons. They had been snappier than how Buckpaw reiterated them, but the same nonetheless. That piece of advice had stuck to Buckpaw like a burr - herbs were a precious resource that couldn’t be thrown around without rhyme or reason. Leaf-bare was creeping up on them like a ravenous predator. Wasting precious herbs could very well be a death sentence for Buckpaw’s Clanmates.
The young tom set into a rhythmic pattern as he applied the poultice deep into his mentor’s fur, working it in until the remedy hit the skin. A poultice on the fur for aching joints was no good. Putting it on the skin where it could absorb into the inflammation was the proper way of going about administering the treatment. Momentarily did his paws freeze when Oakstreak spoke once more, his voice a rumble within his tabby striped body. Buckpaw’s ears perked forward, his interest piqued. Typically it was the apprentice who initiated the conversations, not the other way around.
An assessment. A test of skill.
Buckpaw’s tail twitched ever so slightly.
Protect Silverfern and her kits as she delivered them into the world.
This would be a lot easier of a test if ConiferClan didn’t have a track record of births going horribly wrong.
In all of his time being Oakstreak’s apprentice, no kits had been born. There had been no queens to tend to or kits to help with. Only now when he was almost done with his apprenticeship did the promise of new life come into play. Only now did Buckpaw get a chance to practice his skills with expectant queens and newborn kits. This was something he knew he would have to handle. He would be the Clan’s sole medicine cat one day, and with that title came the responsibility of helping queens birth their litters. The process itself didn’t worry Buckpaw, it was just the fact that he had never been able to help a queen give birth before, and now Oakstreak wanted to use that as an assessment before giving him his full name. How was he supposed to pass something he had no experience in?
Buckpaw drew in a deep breath. Wasn’t being a medicine cat all about being prepared for the unexpected? Most cases would be of things that he had dealt with before, ailments and injuries that he saw so many of that he could treat them in his sleep, yet there would always be the cases that would pop up from time to time in which he knew nothing of. He would have to learn as he go, experiment and figure out a cure so that he could treat his Clanmate. Being a medicine cat was all about learning something new each and every day. If he couldn’t get over this one challenge, then he would never make it as a medicine cat. If he wanted to prove to his mentor that he was meant to be the Clan’s healer, then he couldn’t shy away at the prospect of helping Silverfern with her kitting.
Newfound energy surging deep within him, a flare of determination that burned bright, Buckpaw pulled away from his mentor and stood tall and mighty, chest puffed out and head held high. A cheeky grin pulled his lips forward, eyes bright with the smile. ”I’ll do my best, Oakstreak! You can count on me!”
Wisteriasnow »
From the very corner of her eye did Wisteriasnow watch her son. She judged every step he took, observed every flick of his tail, his ears, even his whiskers. She noted every single time the wind would ruffle through his thick gray pelt and set a hair astray. Her only son had grown into a fine warrior, the best of her kits, but he still had a lot of improvement to accomplish before she would ever privately tell him she was proud.
Perhaps he would never make her proud. Perhaps he would always have something to improve upon.
Wisteriasnow had noticed that one glance his icy blue eyes cast across the fresh-kill pile before leaving camp. The glance had lasted a millisecond at best, a mere flash of a moment, but she had caught it. A mother saw everything that her kits did, regardless of how secretive they thought they were.
Mouse-brain, she growled inwardly. Was he still a kit? True warriors knew not to yearn for a meal before serving their Clan. Had the mother and son pair been without Palestream’s company the pointed molly would have made some sort of comment, a snide remark, about Slatestorm’s glance toward the pitiful fresh-kill pile. He was fortunate, she supposed.
A purr rippled against her throat. Silent steps brought her to Slatestorm’s side, pale fur intermingling with dark. Her tongue flicked lovingly against her son’s ear. ”This is a border patrol. Any prey caught can be yours,” she reminded the tom with gentle words. Affectionate words. A display of motherly love for her son, a twisted, subtle, dark warning for Slatestorm - she had noticed his hunger. He was lucky that Palestream was here with them. A different story would have unfolded had the two been on their own or accompanied by another one of Wisteriasnow’s kits.
Upward the patrol traveled, the trees thinning and opening up to a rocky landscape ruled by boulders and scraggly bushes. Above the sky stretched far and deep blue, a few clouds lazily floating by, carrying with them the chance of snow. It wouldn’t be long until snowfall was thick upon the land, a frozen blanket that stomped out any dreams of abundance a Clan cat may have. The success of ConiferClan truly relied on how well the patrols for the next few days performed. This was why Wisteriasnow’s patrol had to be perfect. Borders needed to be secured just as much as they needed prey. One could argue that safe borders was actually more important than the prey caught for there would be no prey if trespassers strolled into unmarked territory.
The white and gray warrior was just about to give Palestream and Slatestorm their own patches of bushes and rocks to mark when her son’s voice grabbed her attention.
Her ears perked, twisting his way. A chilled breeze ruffled around her, carrying with it the warning her son had just uttered.
Badger.
”Well scented,” praised Wisteriasnow. She was, for once, genuine. Her earlier disappointment with Slatestorm faded as he proved to both her and Palestream that he was an alert warrior. He had caught the scent before either of the two mollies had. Perhaps this accomplishment could rectify the future scolding she had planned on giving him over the fresh-kill.
Now that she herself had captured the scent upon her tongue, Wisteriasnow was forming a game plan. The badger stench wasn’t from today, but it was still a thick scent, a trail that had been formed a mere day before. ”Let’s mark the border still, but we need to check this badger scent out. It’s best to find out if it was just passing through or if it’s trying to make a permanent home here.” The last thing ConiferClan needed was a badger making a set nearby, but perhaps thanks to Slatestorm’s quick identifying of the scent, Wisteriasnow and her patrol could take care of this issue and return to Briarstar with good news.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 29, 2024 23:21:02 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak closed his eyes as he let the young cat work in the poltice, seemingly satisfied judging by the lack of protests. The only sound he made was a huff after hearing Buckpaw's response,"It won't be easy. Childbirth can be both messy and dangerous. Messy can be fixed. Trust in everything I have tought you about adaptabilty and prioritizing the patient and things should be fine." Those closest to Oakstreak may have noticed that it was his attemt at being reassuring somewhat, but the bite in his voice never wavered. Back to his cranky old self again. "We should also do a check up on the cats who have stayed around camp, make sure no one is too proud they admit that they sprained a leg or split a claw."
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Post by ladylantsov on May 30, 2024 3:38:17 GMT -5
GREYHAWK
Pleased to have an eager response of yes from warrior and apprentice both, the tom dips his head with a nod. The warrior would not have minded going alone - he doubted the bird would have made a nest this late into the year, it was only a matter of double checking, little true risk involved. Yet a part of him he wouldn't give name to had hoped for a yes. For, left to his own devices, Greyhawk's mind tended to wander into the dark.
Beckoning the two younger toms to follow him with a swish of his long, dark plumed tail. There's is one of the last patrols to leave camp, but it doesn't stop the senior warrior's gaze from lingering on his golden queen that moment longer, before the shadows of the camp tunnel swallows the three cats from sight.
As they made their way beyond the camp's perimeter, the only sound to their journey he howling of the wind and the cacophony of sounds nature usually had to offer, Greyhawk finds his gaze drifting slightly in the direction of the younger pair of toms.
I wonder if he realises he will eventually have to fess up, he considers.
While not a nosey cat by nature, Greyhawk knew - for there was hardly a half-observant cat in the clan who didn't know, that something was wrong with their mighty leader at the moment. Briarstar was a private cat, and no one dared probe her about what might be the cause of her bother, most assuming it was some unfortunate bug bothering her. They knew full well that even attempting to pry a little deeper than that would end up with a cuffed ear at best and apprentice-den duties for a moon at worst.
Chances were, with a few questions aimed carefully as arrows, Eagleswoop might be a little more open.
But Greyhawk doesn't question Eagleswoop about it as they journey quietly across the mountain.
He'd once been the cat who his clanmates had gone to in order to ask how his own mate was, and knew just how painful it was to not be able to give a straight answer. Even worse when the answer was a very clear 'No, of course she's not okay.' But to instead have to grin and bare well-intentioned questions and plaster on his best interpretation of a smile. Nothing will ever be okay again.
Or, far worse, to not even know.
It is from that experience that Greyhawk doesn't often let something like curiosity get the better of him. For fear of peeling back one two many layers of a cat who might already be more vulnerable than they were willing to let on.
They press on, and by the time the brook is in sight, the small gathering of trees around it swaying in the leaf-fall winds, Greyhawk's hind legs are beginning to offer a protest at the rockier parts of the terrain. The ache dulling the large tom's eyes, this was his second journey out of camp in as many hours, and his body was making him pay the price for it. But his breath does not hitch with the pain, and he offers no complaint aloud. The bulky senior warrior settles by the brook, only neeeding to speak slightly louder than normal to be heard above the sound of water lapping at rocks.
"What do you smell?" Its a challenge he poses the younger of their number, while Snowpaw isn't his own apprentice, he doubts Eagleswoop will protest Greyhawk posing the apprentice a question. |
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Post by Sand on May 30, 2024 10:09:55 GMT -5
Cypressmask camp — accompanied by: open he/him - warrior
 Cypressmask peered out of the warriors' den, his sage green eyes flickering slowly as he wondered what to do with his day. The warrior had woken up on time like usual, but today he hadn't heard his name called for any patrols. It was possible that Briarstar and Gingerflame were both out of camp right now. Either way, Cypressmask wanted to do something, even if it meant being on the dusk patrol later on.
The grey and white tabby trotted out of the den, noticing that a few patrols had already left camp. It appeared that Cypressmask was a bit too late to join in. Some of his other clanmates had to be hanging around, right? If they weren't, he would have to consider going out of camp alone.
[ tags: n/a | image credit: pinterest ]
Cariboupaw camp — accompanied by: open she/her - apprentice
 Cariboupaw lay outside the apprentices' den idly as she stared at her white paws. Or, well, they were looking less white today as mud had gotten caked onto her paws yesterday during a late training session. It wasn't her fault that she had accidentally stepped into mud– she'd prefer to blame nature itself for that.
As the multicolored apprentice began cleaning her front paws vigorously, she pondered leaving camp on her own. Without a warrior, without a denmate– well, without anyone. But that didn't seem like fun to Cariboupaw despite loving her independence. She hadn't seen Owlpaw yet either which made her realize he might be out with his mentor. Tch, I hope he'll tell me what he did with his day, the apprentice thought. It better have gone well too.
[ tags: n/a | image credit: pinterest ]
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 30, 2024 11:29:18 GMT -5
Buckpaw »
Trust in everything Oakstreak had taught him. Prioritize the patient.
A deep breath in, a deep breath out. Buckpaw could do this. He’d be able to pass his assessment and Silverfern would have a happy, healthy litter to watch over and nurse.
This burst of confidence was greatly helped by the fact that Oakstreak had actually reassured him about the obvious anxiety he had had upon hearing what his assessment would be. Sure, the brown tabby healer hadn’t reassured him in a typical fashion, his words more pragmatic and clinical than they were soft and gentle, but reassurance was reassurance, and Buckpaw was going to take what he could get. The advice was well worth it, and if Buckpaw had anything to say about that he would have to say that maybe, just maybe, Oakstreak did actually care for him; not that his mentor would be willing to admit it, but Buckpaw knew, and him knowing was all that mattered.
Thinking about his upcoming assessment carried his thoughts down two different paths, two different questions that he would very much like the answers to.
How many kits would Silverfern have? Having noticed just how swollen her sides had gotten in the last half moon had Buckpaw certain she would have quite a hefty litter. He wondered what they would all look like, how they would all act, and what their names would be. Kits were always a blessing, and even if they were going to be born in the harshest season kits could be born in, they would make the Clan stronger. They’d make the Clan proud. Morale would be boosted all because of their arrival - if a Clan could produce kits in the midst of the coldest season, then a Clan could survive at any given point. Silverfern and Gingerflame’s litter would surely go on to do great things, become fierce warriors. Perhaps one would even take an interest in herbs. Would one become a wise medicine cat?
Buckpaw pondered the thought, excited at the prospect of a younger cat than he in the medicine cat den. Though that did concern him ever so slightly - would he be ready to become a mentor if one of Silverfern’s litter decided to follow the path of a healer? Already he was doubting his ability to be the sole medicine cat of the Clan in just a little under a moon’s time, how would he be able to handle training a young cat as well?
The tomcat shook his head. There was no need to worry about such things - he would make a fine medicine cat because he had had Oakstreak teach him everything the old tom knew. He would be a fine mentor one day as well, eager to teach the youth and cultivate knowledge. He had absolutely nothing to worry about.
The second question that floated around in his mind was about his brother. Would Snowpaw’s assessment be coming up soon? What was a warrior assessment like? Would he have to prove himself in some sort of battle, or would he have to hunt down a wide variety of prey despite the season’s chill? He’d have to ask Snowpaw all about that once his littermate returned from the patrol he was on. Maybe he could talk to Eagleswoop as well, ask Snowpaw’s mentor if he’d talk to his mate and make sure the two brothers received their full names together.
Buckpaw was pushed away from his thoughts when he heard his mentor speak up again. Copper eyes glanced at Oakstreak, eager ears perked to hear the words he had to say. ”Don’t worry about that,” Buckpaw mewed almost immediately as he leaned forward to nudge the old tom. ”You stay here and rest. I can check on the cats still in camp.” It was clear to Buckpaw that his mentor needed to rest, whereas Buckpaw still had enough energy to run around camp and check on those who had stayed away from patrols this morning. That was something the apprentice knew he would do well with - interacting with others and checking in on them was a common practice of the cream tabby. It was something he excelled at, after all.
Sorrelsnap »
The bustling of camp had roused Sorrelsnap from his slumber. Half of him cursed the Clan’s warriors for being so loud as they organized patrols and started their day, while the other half of him cursed himself for having already fallen into the habit of sleeping in late. He had only been an elder for a little over a moon now and each day he was starting to act more and more like one and less and less like a warrior.
The ginger and white tabby grumbled under his breath. He knew he was lucky to have lived as long as he had, very few warriors made it to the elders’ den, but he hated how lazy he felt as an elder. Sorrelsnap should be out there right now leading a patrol or patching up the camp’s borders for the snow that leaf-bare would surely bring. Yet here he was, wanting to complain about being woken up past dawn. How pathetic that was. Only a moon prior he had been angry at the prospect of sleeping in, and now he was angry at now being able to sleep in.
If he didn’t love his son as much as he did he would have clawed off Eagleswoop’s ears and all his whiskers when the tom had suggested Sorrelsnap move into the elders’ den.
As the old warrior pushed himself up from his nest, his teeth gritted against one another, ears flattening, eyes narrowing. His claws unsheathed into the moss under paw, tail lashing. Damn this awful joint pain. It was only getting worse as the mornings grew colder and colder. Even with the medicine cat and his apprentice bringing the elder herbs for his pain on a daily schedule, Sorrelsnap wasn’t sure how he was going to handle this leaf-bare. Stretching out his stiff legs he stood there for a long moment, taking in a few breaths of chilled air, allowing his legs to relax themselves before attempting to move. He’d have to ask Oakstreak if there was anything stronger to give him for this pain. If it was this bad now, Sorrelsnap couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be once the real cold hit.
Once his bones had stopped their screaming, Sorrelsnap slowly eased his way out of the elders’ den. Blinking away both sleep and sharp sunlight out of his eyes, the old warrior scanned the camp. The tip of his tail twitched as his lips pulled into a faint grimace. Again he was reminded of his advancing age, the further corners of camp blurred and hard to make out. Curse his body and its faults. There had been a time, not that long ago, when he had been a sharp-eyed, fluid warrior, scaling the mountain slopes and pine covered crests with ease. Now he was a stiff, bleary eyed old tom who had been confined to camp. What a downfall his had been. From glory to shame in the blink of an eye. He sometimes wondered if it would have been better for him to have followed Jumpingjay into StarClan. His mate had not been gone for long, yet every day Sorrelsnap missed the black-furred tom. He sighed into the air, a melancholy noise. He was being selfish. He still had a son down here that needed him. Eagleswoop had already lost one parent, he shouldn’t have to lose another one so soon.
Through the haziness of his eyesight, Sorrelsnap managed to catch a glimmer of movement not too far off. He squinted, already aware that this cat was not his son - too small, too petite. An apprentice, perhaps? But which one? And why were they still in camp? Surely the apprentice should be outside doing some much needed training.
Curiosity getting the best of him, Sorrelsnap eased his way to the other cat, eventually getting close enough to make out the camp-bound feline. ”Shouldn’t you be out training with your mentor, Cariboupaw?” Who even was the pointed molly’s mentor? Ah, Sorrelsnap couldn’t remember. There were far too many ‘paws in the Clan at the moment to keep all of them straight. All he knew was that the apprentice was wasting her time by staying in camp, lollygagging like a fool and washing her paws.
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Post by Dew on May 30, 2024 12:10:55 GMT -5
Auburnpaw Auburnpaw followed Burntears out of camp, aware of Oriolehop following close behind. She liked her patrol, especially Burntears, but she wished that her mentor was here instead. It seems that Greyhawk had left without her. Well, I'll give him an earful tomorrow when he takes me out! She huffed, but the thought of hunting near the brook excited her. Although she wasn't sure if she would be very good. "The brook sounds fun! Greyhawk has only taken me there a few times" She said.
The mention of Hareskip made Auburnpaw sad. She had been a young apprentice when he had died, along with Flickerpaw. She always thought about how Owlpaw must feel to lose someone so close to him. It made her feel a little guilty about going to the scorched plain earlier, with the scent of ash still on her fur, although the scents of the outside were quickly swallowing it up.
She/Her - Apprentice
𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 , Sand Palestream Her fur ruffled as she heard the word. Badger. The next moment she smelled it as well. It was acrid, foul. But at least a day old. The creature was probably not around at the moment, at least hopefully. A surprise attack was not something they needed at the moment, especially right before leaf-bare. Palestream nodded at the younger warrior, impressed by his tracking skills.
"That's fine with me" She said, forcing her fur to lie flat. Don't make a fool of yourself Palestream. She started to mark the piece of border closest to where she had been standing. It seemed automatic now. She remembered when she had been an apprentice, and her first time ever marking a border. The excitement had dulled over the moons, now just something that she did all the time. Not so exciting now. Her mind now went to all the things that were exciting when she was an apprentice. Leaving camp, chasing moss balls, running through the trees. If she did those things now, Palestream wasn't sure if she would be able to bear the looks her clanmates gave her. She couldn't help but admire how Burntears did things like that all the time. It seemed like a skill that you developed when you were young, and it all depended on the cats around, what you were told to do and what your were told not to do. Palestream exhaled, finishing the stretch of border she had been working on.
She/Her - Warrior
ladylantsov, Feathertalon |
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Post by Sand on May 30, 2024 12:59:46 GMT -5
[ I feel for Sorrelsnap rn because Cariboupaw is being a brat. ] Cariboupaw camp — accompanied by: Sorrelsnap she/her - apprentice
Cariboupaw had just finished cleaning her white paws when she heard a familiar gruffy voice. It certainly wasn't her mentor, so when the apprentice turned to see Sorrelsnap, she stared at him in confusion. Was she really the only apprentice left in camp? Surely not… right? And how had this old sack of bones noticed her from far away? Did he have eye sight of a hawk? "Hi to you too, Sorrelsnap," she muttered, rolling her blue eyes.
It wasn't Cariboupaw's fault that she felt a bit of disdain for the elder. His question sounded curt as if she were wasting her time in camp on purpose. The pointed she-cat glanced at Sorrelsnap, wondering why he wanted to know why she wasn't out training. It wasn't any of his business! "Shouldn't you be sleeping in your den, Sorrelsnap?" she mocked the tom, knowing he didn't have anything to do.
It's not like I asked to be waiting for my mentor, Cariboupaw thought, holding back an audible sneer. The apprentice was clearly annoyed and she was hoping that Sorrelsnap would leave her alone. She didn't want to be on tick duty already– it was way too early for that. All Cariboupaw wanted was to leave camp and train with her mentor. Instead, she was stuck with Sorrelsnap. "Gee, I don't know. Why don't you go ask my mentor yourself?" she scoffed, clearly irritated. "I haven't seen them yet and there's nothing for me to do in camp. So, here I am. Waiting."
[ tags: Feathertalon | image credit: pinterest ]
Oriolehop the brook — accompanied by: Burntears & Auburnpaw he/him - warrior
Oriolehop slowly came to the realization that he shouldn't have brought up Burntears' last patrol. He was such a mousebrain– he had forgotten about how Hareskip had passed away. The ginger and white tabby tom went silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh. He could only imagine what he would do without Honeyskip or their sons– to him, it seemed like the end of the world. It made him ponder how Burntears had come back to warriorhood from the loss of her mate and leaving the nursery after she recovered from birth. He decided that he was going to brighten the pointed she-cat's day somehow– the trio didn't need sadness lingering over their head.
"I'm sure you two had plenty of fun when hunting together," he assured her, offering a soft grin. "And we'll do the same today. Maybe we can make a game out of it? Whoever catches the most fish wins!"
As they came up to the brook, the sound of rushing water became clear. Hopefully there's enough fish in there for us, the ginger and white tabby thought before glancing at the brook. "Auburnpaw, I assume Greyhawk has taught you how to catch fish, right?" he asked the grey and black tabby she-cat.
[ tags: 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on May 30, 2024 16:22:12 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap »
Perhaps leaving the elders’ den and padding up to the first lazy apprentice he had spotted - albeit spotted was a strong term given his poor eyesight - had not been the wisest of decisions. Yet here he was, dealing with the young Cariboupaw. Sorrelsnap inwardly sighed to himself. He had made some good choices in his long lifetime, but this was not one of them. In the back of his mind he could hear Jumpingjay’s voice teasing him, a playful hum just behind his ears. ”These apprentices are the Clan’s future! Be nice to them and you’ll get the best moss in the entire forest.” He would have said to hell with it if not for the aching in his bones. Sorrelsnap’s body needed the soft moss to rest upon lest he wake up worse off tomorrow than he had today.
Despite imagining his mate’s reaction to all this, Sorrelsnap was still, well, snappy toward the young molly. ”I’d still be asleep if it weren’t for how loud the warriors have to be. I don’t recall patrol organizing to ever be this loud.” Perhaps the Clan just didn’t know how to react with two elders in its midst. ConiferClan’s territory was a dangerous place for any creature to live. Making it beyond the age of a senior warrior was a feat in and of itself. Living long enough to see the elders’ den was all the rarer. There had been no aged warriors in the elders’ den back when Sorrelsnap had just been Sorrelpaw, and only recently had the Clan acquired elders. Sorrelsnap knew to be thankful of the life he lived and was still experiencing, but sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially when dealing with thunderous warriors and impish apprentices.
Again the ginger and white tom wanted to throw out a sharp retort. Cariboupaw was throwing quite the attitude toward him, but again, Sorrelsnap grounded himself with the image of his mate. Jumpingjay would have offered the molly a helping paw - it was obvious she was annoyed at being stuck within the camp walls. Sorrelsnap couldn’t blame her. Even with the aches that ran through his body he too was eager to leave this confinement. He doubted he could make it far, but maybe there was still something he could do that would get them both out of camp.
An idea struck the tomcat as he cast copper eyes toward the hidden exit of camp. ”How well can you hunt?” Sorrelsnap assumed the young apprentice could hunt decently well, but then again, if her mentor was absent now how could he be sure her mentor hadn’t pulled this stunt before? Cariboupaw could be lacking in skills that she should have learned by now.
Sorrelsnap didn’t plan on going far beyond the camp’s hedges. He wanted to get outside and enjoy the fresh air, and he could do that without pushing himself. He could also bring Cariboupaw out along with him, let the young molly hunt the area near the camp. Prey didn’t spend much time near the Clan’s camp, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any prey to catch. It would give them both something to do outside, would give them both a chance to curb their boredom and allow them to stretch their legs. The tabby tom wasn’t going to take over Cariboupaw’s training for the day, but he might as well put her to work if her mentor was going to ignore her.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on May 30, 2024 18:50:48 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; whispering ladylantsov --------------------------------------------------------------------- The white and ginger apprentice readily opened his mouth to catch a better understanding of the forest around him. Obviously he could scent their patrol and the permeating scent of their markers. The apprentice also sensed some of the prey in the area, skittering and making nests. Something sharp and unfamiliar caught his scent glands, however. A scent he had really only been told of. "Is that the hawk?" He whispered, sparing a glance to the two warriors beside him. Not long after glancing at them did his eyes look up, trying to pinpoint where exactly the hawk had decided to make it's nest, or if it were circling above their heads. The excitement and fear made his stomach turn just a little. He was afraid of being wrong, and getting any one of them injured. Some great warrior he would be if he couldn't even scent a hawk!"It smells like it's been near the treeline recently,"Snowpaw mused out loud.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew sand  --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears couldn't resist fluffing out her tail in excitement at her patrolmates agreeance. She was glad she had chosen cats who were empathetic and kind to her, as this sort of conversation easily would have had a much different outcome if Wisteriasnow, for example, had been listening in. "You're on!" The warrior challenged them. The cream she-cat scented that another patrol had walked by not long before them. She scented Snowpaw, his mentor Eagleswoop, and Greyhawk had passed by this section of the brook before heading off from it. No matter. She tenatively poked her head over the edge of the water, wanting to get a sense of just how many fish had found their way into this section of the flowing water today. Upon seeing a few ripples, she put herself into position to cast as little shadow over the water's surface as possible.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- The old cat wasn't sure if he should be relieved or offended at his apprentice's willingness to leave him in the nest already. Regaining his sense of relief that his suffering as a Medicine Cat now was numbered in days, he decided not to claw the young cat's ears off. "Alright. If I find out something went wrong and you didn't come get me, you'd better hope Briarstar scolds you before I do." His warning was a rare sign of care for the wellbeing of his clanmates. As much as he hated his job and this life that came with it, he still loved his clan. No cat still living was one who caused his suffering, so they didn't draw his ire. Annoyance, definitely, but no ill will. "Don't forget to give Sorrelsnap some of the same herbs you gave me. His pain is only going to get worse as it gets colder!" He couldn't resist a little nagging, it was simply in his nature at this point.
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