Recent content by downyfur

The overground is so cold. Chill seems to pierce straight through their lengthy coat to sting at tender skin. If she's cold, she can't imagine the numbers it's doing to Nightpaw and his sparser coat. Deep blues slip towards the white-masked boy, sympathy coating their gaze in lieu of their...

The sky had been a wan, benevolent gray when they first set out, as good-intentioned as an overcast sky could be. Now, three-quarters of the way to the RiverClan border, the sky had soured into something far uglier. Fat flakes swirl down from the ashen, rumbling heavens, sticking resolutely to...

They smile, a soft ivory crease in their jaw. "Thank you, Asterkit." You all, the kit said. Not just you. It makes Downyfur feel a bit better, actually: truly, it wasn't them and had never been them. Even when they had stood here as an apprentice, squaring off against DuskClanner claws, they'd...

Wind lashes against the wood slats of the barn. Cows huddle together for warmth in the pastures and the stalls, the Horseplace Twolegs nowhere to be found. Inside, Downyfur curls tighter into themself, sitting across a gentle-faced tortoiseshell on a haybale. "It's so cold outside..." the...

The question startles her. The whole thing startles her, actually. They don't know what they're more taken aback by: Mizzlepaw's appearance or his topic of conversation. The taller, younger feline seems caught off guard in the same way, and they stare at each other for a skipped heartbeat before...

It's nice to talk to someone who's not so easily polarized. Yet, they don't want to be talked off their ledge. Everything she lists off, they already know. Loyalty is a difficult thing, change even harder. Her face remains pleasantly tranquil as a fresh wave of irritation blazes through her, and...

Exploring. They have enough resources that a young cat like this could just walk around? It's obviously a lie. Downyfur indulges in another quick scan of the horizon, ears pricked as high as they could go, as Mallowtail remarks on the beauty of their own territory. As if they needed another...

Downyfur trails after Brackenpaw―scar. She doesn't know why she's saying that; she'd talked to her this morning about it even. Maybe being led by a warrior fresh out of ceremony bothers them more than they thought. And if it bothers them... somehow, they catch the way her verdant stare stays on...

There must be a reason she's making all the young warriors lead the patrols. Is it to prove that her own youth isn't a burden? The deputy is older than them, sure, but not by much. This is a far cry from the days of Sunstar and Scorchstreak, where she felt like every member of the council had...

Downyfur nods. Tunnelers were always paired, and they privately nurse the theory that it was actually one of the reasons why their apprenticeships took so long: to familiarize oneself with the feeling of tunneling with another, until you couldn't imagine going without. Downyfur, at least...

Unknowingly, Downyfur agrees it's strange to see another cat her size here. WindClan was teeming with them, their tunneler bretheren, but ThunderClan cats always seemed to err on the larger side. That's how it was with Roaringsun last moon, anyway. Hmm. Roeflame was known to be small too...

This is their third Gathering in a row, and it makes them eighteen Gatherings old today. The way the tall trees slice the moonlight into ribbons instead of letting it freely filter over their backs is unsettling. Downyfur's pelt, already silvery to begin with, is burnished to an even brighter...

Downyfur sends their companion a smile that's meant to be soothing as she bites out their lucky state. "Just our luck, I guess." Concern flickers to life in their gaze as a violent tremble overruns Wildwhistle for a moment; they almost take a step forward, to do... what? Catch her if she...

A purr rumbles in her chest at what she takes as praise. The most. "Aww, thanks." Maybe Celandinepaw is just saying that to make them happy, but... would she really do that? Sweet, open Celandinepaw? Even allowing the thought to enter the realm of possibility for them makes them feel bad, not in...

Mallowtail's breath blooms cloud-like in the wintry air. They can feel the disappointment radiating from it: not due to any personal failings of her own, but just a general weariness, like an older cousin watching a younger one mess up from afar. She can understand why she would care so much...