camp [✿] Deliver me that bad news baby ⸙ Shedding

[Brackenscar]

Emerging from the tunnels in the warming weather is a shock to the system as far she's concerned. She hates this part of Newleaf, the steadily rising temperatures and the constant shedding from her pelt. Russetpaw is dismissed from his duties and she finds herself walking back to camp, brushing against the heather of the entry tunnel with a huffed sigh. Another welcomed reprieve from the glare of the sun against eyes that are far too used to the darkness of the tunnels. Though the reprieve is temporary and the sun finds the black of her pelt, soaking up the ebony sections in the heat of the rays. An annoyed groan finding her as she seeks out the solace of shade immediately, given the lack of dens she finds herself hard pressed to actually find a reprieve. The shade casted from the Tallrock would have to be enough, Brackenscar ignores the grumble of her stomach in favour of the way the bite from the sky lessons.

Raising her foreleg she licks her paw to clean the flecks of dirt off her face, smoothing out the tufts of fur on her cheeks. Then scraped her white paw against tri-coloured ears in hopes that it would clear away any remaining dirt there. As much as she likes bugs they find themself hating the feeling of dirt in their fur, a horrible marriage to the path they walk as a warrior. Usually it's managable but she's been just so irate lately that even that makes their skin crawl. Continuing to clean her foreleg they find themself spluttering as a large tuft of fur is painlessly pulled from it, ugh seriously? Serperntine tail slams against the ground in a fit of barely bottled frustration, gagging as the fur clings to her tongue.

"Can I say I miss leafbare yet? It's so warm now" she grumbles to the cat next to her, giving up her hopes at grooming when it seems her temperamental coat was far from being done with it's shedding. For all the mayhem the season had brought she actually did miss the bitter chill of the snow. "At least we weren't shedding then, I swear that camp is going to be covered with fur instead of snow by tomorrow." An exaggeration for sure, not that they particularly care about hyperbolic she's being in her complaints.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ OH, IM JUST A GIRL ꕥ WHATS MY DESTINY ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ooc. For the Snapdragon flower!
  
  Optional prompt:
  Y/C notices the slowly-warming temperatures. Do they like it or wish it were still cold outside?
  - BONUS!: Each post must contain a word that rhymes with the word "stem". For example, the words "gem" and "condemn" both count for this!
• 
• 
  Brackenscar ✩ They/she, Tunneler, 17 moons
  
  
  ⸙ A scowling, tiny calico with large ears.
  ⸙ Mentored by Scorchstar & Bluefrost.
  ⸙ Mentoring Russetpaw.
  ⸙ Speech, thoughts, attacking.
  ⸙ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ( underline and tag when attacking ).
  ⸙ All opinions are IC only.
  penned by Juice.
  

​

 

[MARROWPAW]

Marrowpaw watches Brackenscar with an unreadable expression, his single remaining eye flickering over her as she grumbles about the heat. He's still standing at the edge of the tunnel entrance, half-shielded in its shadow, reluctant to step fully into the glaring light of newleaf. The warmth doesn't bother him as much as it does her—he's always run cold, his thin frame more prone to shivering than overheating—but he understands the frustration of feeling uncomfortable in his own pelt.

He exhales sharply at her dramatics, not quite a scoff but something close. "You can say it, but you'd be wrong," he mutters, stretching out his stiff legs as he finally steps into the sun's reach. He feels it sink into his fur almost immediately, soaking into the scarred half of his face, and it takes effort not to grimace. It's not the heat that unsettles him—it's the brightness, the sheer openness of the sky above after so long spent underground. It makes his remaining eye ache, a dull throb pulsing behind it.

His gaze shifts back to Brackenscar just in time to see her gagging on another tuft of fur, her tail smacking the ground in irritation. It's an undignified sight, one that almost—almost—amuses him, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral. Instead, he exhales through his nose and flicks his tattered ear. "Better fur than ice," he remarks, voice dry as he finally moves to sit in the partial shade beside the tallrock. His breathing is slightly uneven from the walk back, but he pointedly ignores it, unwilling to acknowledge the way his body still betrays him. His tail flicks idly against the dusty ground as he watches her struggle against the never-ending assault of shedding fur. "If you hate it so much, roll in the tunnels again. That way, you'll be covered in dirt instead," he says, glancing at her with something that almost resembles amusement. "Seems like an easy fix."

He's not sure why he's bothering to talk. He doesn't usually. It's easier to keep to himself, to let others assume he's unapproachable, but Brackenscar's grumbling is familiar in a way he hadn't expected. Maybe it's the way she voices her irritation without hesitation, without concern for whether or not she's being reasonable. He can appreciate that. He doesn't like pretending either. After a moment, he exhales and leans back against the tallrock, letting the warmth of the sun press against his side. His throat feels dry, his breathing still too shallow for his liking, but he forces himself to ignore it. "Camp's always covered in something," he mutters after a beat, watching as a breeze kicks up a small flurry of fur. "At least this won't kill us."


[ i offer u lavender, foxglove, or sunflower! ]​

 

[Doekit.]

Doekit's gaze was curious as she watched Brackenscar emerge from the tunnels, imagining what it would be like to be so comfortable underground. She couldn't imagine being at ease amongst the walls of dirt, her own paws craved the open moor and she was counting the days until she could bask under the open sky, free from the confines of the camp and the watchful eyes of protective queens. Being below ground sounded suffocating in comparison, another more stringent form of confinement.

These thoughts were abandoned as she watched, bewildered, as the warrior pulled on a loose tuft of fur. "She's going bald!" Her head swiveled as she sought to examine her own medium-length fur, still fuzzy with the softness of kithood. No signs of looseness. . . Yet. But judging by Brackenscar's grumbled declaration, her days were numbered too. Her throat felt parched, phlegm sticking uncomfortably as she examined the clearing with a forlorn gaze. So this was it; Who knew that warmer days meant the campground filling not with snow, but with their own pelts?

"Do you think mine will grow back the same color?" Her voice shook, betraying her nervousness as she came to settle beside Marrowpaw. "I quite like being brown. When will we all lose our furs?"

At four moons old, her entire life was with the backdrop of winter's chill. The warmer days had felt like salvation from the biting cold of leaf-bear, but she hadn't known about this part of the new season. Her tail-tip twitched, further betraying her agitation.​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

This whole shedding thing's pretty easy, in Sedge's opinion. His short, scrubby pelt shakes away what little winter-bulk it accumulated without any trouble at all; meanwhile all his long-furred clanmates are left to suffer. Sunstar, being from the mountains and used to far colder weather, usually had a hell of a time with his own coat. He can remember him complaining in that composed, light-hearted way of his, when he was still around. The memory tastes sour, now.

Marrowpaw snaps back at Brackenscar's complaining with more pomp than Sedgepounce could manage. You can say it, but you'd be wrong. "Ha!" he cheers. Sitting beside Brackenscar entails a lot more grumbling than usual today, but the sunny weather keeps his spirits high. "Come onnn. You'll feel better after the shed...Newleaf's the best!" The green, the flowers, the birds—all the cold, desolate, and hungry of Leafbare replaced by much better things. What's not to love? Despite all the fur-pulling mayhem or whatever.

Sedgepounce's ears swivel toward Doekit when her sad, wobbly voice piques from beside Marrowpaw. He huffs sympathetically. "Not all your fur, Doekit. Just some," he meows, amused, spiky tail flicking idly beside him. "You won't even notice. Look, Brackenscar's still got plenty!" He gestures to their still-fluffy pelt—the source of their misery.

OOC. — —

• 
  
  SEDGEPOUNCE is the current DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. he's a long-legged tomcat with dark taupe fur and high white. much more of a pacifist compared to scorchstar, he tends to come across as a bit of a pushover—however, he's inwardly quite savvy with clan politics, and tends to judge others harshly based on past actions.
  
  MENTORING rimepaw, PREVIOUSLY MENTORED bunnyglow
  27 moons old / ages every 21st
  penned by bellus / TAGS
• 

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[BABBLEKIT]

BABBLEKIT

You're totally not faster than me!

The warming weather that is coming upon them feels so so much nicer than when the ground was all cold and hard. It's made the young kit so much happier to be able to go out in camp more often than when she was able to before. Right now she is standing just on the inside of the exit of camp, looking out with wide eyes. Wondering just what is out there till she turns her head and sees Brackenscar and the others gathered around. With quick paws she makes her way over eagerly, looking suddenly up as tufts of fur go flying off into the air. Oh, who does that belong to? And are they missing it? She reaches a paw up and tries to catch it only to be reminded of her mission and so she keeps going over to the group. With a bright giggle she suddenly clings onto Sedgepouce, making small growling noises like she caught something before blinking brightly. "I love the warmer weather! It's really nice but I think we should catch the fur everyone is missing. Don't they need it?" What if it gets cold again and they need the extra warmth?

Regardless to that she drops down and wiggles on her haunches just to leap to try and catch the tuft of fur that Brackenscar just lost. Of course she misses but she merely laughs before sitting down. Turning though she looks at her ghost stripped body, sniffing at it. "Am I losing fur too? Doekit? If I lose my fur will you help me find it?"

ooc

Ooc notes go here.