camp πƒπŽπŽπŒπ„𝐃 π—•π˜ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 ππ€π‘π‘π€π“πˆπ•π„ β•± π‰π”πƒπ†πˆππ† πŠπˆπ“π“π„ππ’

[ hiiii putting this up here for visibility: please no kittens in this thread! sun would halt the discussion if they got too close and i'd really love to see what the other warriors have to say about it <3 ]

The small clan's worth of kittens are occupied, at least for the time. Soft round bellies and equally soft paws, slowly stretching to age. A few of them are so terribly close to what he would once consider an apprentice. How strange to think of them as kittens now. They could already be learning to fight and to hunt, or at the very least to know this territory. The lost moons would stunt his clan, and yet. . . despite his own upbringing, and the part of his chest that struggles against this idea of weakness (WindClan need not coddle their young; it was hardly his fault that SkyClan's were such malleable things), he cannot help but see their vulnerability.

His mind glances back to his own kittens. So quickly they had been thrown to the moors. Was it worth it, in the end? Had they learned anything but pain? Rivepaw's belly, Featherpaw's spine. That, too, is a lesson. This he knows. Pain is as much a part of a warrior's life as the prey and the patrols. Though WindClan knows two separate types, they both share these things. And even if there were moons still before he would assign each of them their place within this clan, Sunstar knows to keep this in mind. His gaze is ever-present upon the playful group, his mind slowly wrangling back to the present.

"That one," he murmurs, speaking of @spotkit. "Moor runner or tunneler, what are your thoughts on this?"
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  • OOC. β€”
  • sun_icon_new2.png
    SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.   ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
    ——– HE – HIM – HIS β•±β•± 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.

    TH β•±β•± A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES
 
ΰΌ„ΰΌ„ There is an itch in Scorchstreak’s paws as they regard the youngest of the clan. These kits would have been apprenticed soon, had SkyClan’s warriors not decided that cats so young are incapable. The calico disagrees with such a rule on principle, but looks to the clan’s apprentices as proof. Had Pinkpaw not proven herself capable already, surviving battles against rogues and clanmates alike? Are kits not deserving of seeing the world outside before existing within it for half a year? Absurdity truly makes itself at home within the laws of these lands.

Still, the calico will say nothing. They are not one to speak against such ruling when they have no power to truly change itβ€”such arguments would be a waste, in the end. So she goes along with it, glad that at least her second apprentice has not been ripped from her. Though she appreciates time spent with Pinkpaw, she is glad that she has a few moments to spare today to spend conversing with Sunstar. The tom gestures to a kit and asks her opinion on their future ranking; Scorchstreak flicks her tail a couple times, eyes narrowing as she watches the kit carefully for a few moments.

"Moor runner, as much as I hate to say." The corner of their muzzle twitches upward, a hint of a smile to show that their comment is good-natured rather than scornful. "Look at those legs," she continues, dappled ears swiveling to point toward the kit. Spindly legs and too-large ears indicate, to her, a growth spurt to come. As much as she may wish for an influx of new tunnelers when all the kits of the clan come to apprentice age, she knows that realistically the clan will be lucky if they even get one. Moor runners have always outnumbered their tunneler forces; it makes sense, but is still a disappointment to a cat whose life revolves around the tunnels.
 
β”€β”€α¨’β†Ÿβ†Ÿα¨’β†Ÿα¨’β†Ÿβ†Ÿα¨’β”€β”€ Wolfsong focuses on the practicality of the decision: at six moons, they can be assured β€”in most casesβ€” that they will not encounter any sudden bursts of growth requiring a tunneler to be reassigned. Precious as tunnelers are, it would be a terrible waste of resources and time for retraining to occur. Nonetheless, Wolfsong struggles to understand the newly implemented rule himself. Six moons of straining the supply of freshkill in leafbare, when their previous apprentices were hunting at four; six moons of wrestling without training for catastrophes that often find WindClan. They wish to show their children greater clemency, and as a parent with his own children, he understands the temptationβ€” but he also knows that Rivepaw could have died if Hummingbirdheart struck her when she had less training. Featherpaw, too, may have suffered worse.

But it is in stone, now, just as he cannot see more kittens while he is medicine cat.

WindClan has no shortage of them, however, and he joins his mate and Scorchstreak with a thoughtful frown. "Hmm. Perhaps. But the rest of him is quite smallβ€” I do not think tunneler is entirely beyond possibility."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • β€” β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜†β˜† WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    β€” β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜†β˜† INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • β€” β˜…β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜† ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    β€” β˜…β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜† BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • β€” β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    β€” β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜†β˜† KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • β€” β˜…β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜† POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to youβ€” it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    β€” β˜…β˜…β˜†β˜†β˜† ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE β€” Unlike a sizeable chunk of the rest of Windclan, Rattleheart actually had no protests regarding the new rule of 6 moons for apprentices. He had always agonized over how young their apprentices seemed in the past, worrying over cats that still bore kitten fluff and rounded faces even as they threw themselves into battle training. While he could certainly understand the argument of the other side, he saw no reasons to go against it himself. After all, he knew that all of the apprentices in Windclan would be getting proper training regardless of how long it took - there just might be a bit more strain on apprentice and mentor alike. Normally he wouldn't welcome such a challenge, but he felt differently when it came to ensuring the safety of their young.

Besides, it gave them more time to prepare for the massive wave of apprentices that would be greeting them before too long, anyways.

He'd been settled casually near Scorchstreak's side as she talked with Sunstar, eyes half-closed in contentment as he listened in on what idle bits of conversation he could listen to. While Rattleheart had become more skilled at managing his own schedule and not exhausting himself, the duties of a tunneler and lead warrior still often left him just the slightest bit tired. He finally perked up when he heard the mention of one of the kits in the distance, pale gaze opening fully as he looked towards the still-growing Spotkit. "I don't know, Wolfsong might be right. I was pretty spindly when I was his age, but I still fit down in the tunnels fairly well now, don't you think?" He grinned in the direction of his fellow lead warrior and sister, whiskers twitching with amusement as he thought about some of the more steep tunnels that they had navigated in the past. Even if his height was far from impressive, those were the moments were he found his head scraping along dirt as he squeezed through.


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    β₯ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    β₯ 49 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    β₯ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    β₯ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    β₯ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    β₯ currently mentoring downypaw
    β₯ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    β₯ "speech", thoughts, attacking
    β₯ peaceful powerplay allowed
    β₯ all opinions are ic
 

Firefang doesn't mind kits they don't bother her much and sometimes she didn't mind regaling to them stories of battling the other clans or simply listening to their idle chatter. They were simple, kits weren't complicated and sure yeah they could be annoying but their youth and naivety gave them leeway she didn't afford to her older clanmates. Still it's odd to her now that no longer were they becoming apprentices so soon into their moons, was it a sign of weakness to keep them safe in the nursery with soft skin and little combat experience for so long? She'd been made a apprentice so quick and had become a warrior moons before she turned a year old. Things were changing, the clan around her was growing and watching the kits now just made her feel a panging of nostalgia for a time that was long gone and not as great as she made it out to be.

She heard the chatter of Sunstar, determining what the kits would become wasn't something she could say she had any inkling of how to do - she herself was deemed and made into a Tunneller initially only for it to be realized in one of the worst possible ways she would never thrive as one. She was a danger to anyone who came into the dark soil with her, she's certain her mother would never forgive her for failing, for injuring Smokestep, for having the audacity to stick around, she sparingly sees her anymore only quick flashes of fur akin to her own in the darkness of the nursery. She grimaces to herself pushing those unwanted thoughts and memories from her mind as she approached head ducked and submissive towards the leader she could never fully accept.

"It would've been decided already wouldn't it? moons ago" her voice doesn't have the same fire of ferocity there is no bite, it's just a statement. She sits mouse lengths away from the older windclanners, distance she's sure is welcome. "Either he grows into his paws or it's off to the tunnels for him" she shrugs, she'd bet that would be the case for the young tom Starclan knew tunnelers were valuable and they'd always need more. Such a prized position she never could manage to make work for herself, she never would've lasted long anyway even if she was a prefect apprentice she knows now. She'd hit a massive growth spurt she doubts she could even cram herself down one anymore.

 
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Cottonpaw isn't sure how to feel about the new law. Some of them feel necessary - such as the protecting their own land, or feeding the young before the hardy. But some feel useless. Just as many believe this law to be the fault of a Clan's inadequacies, she thinks the same of the medicine cat's personal code. It's not her fault that Starlingheart acted as she did. Even thinking of the she-cat, torn to shreds but still standing, doesn't soften the hateful thought. And being her mother's daughter does regretfully leave unlawful thoughts in her mind; such as rules being made to be broken.

She dismisses the wonder of if her brother would still be standing if the lot of them were coddled for moons longer. Their mother hadn't even nursed them beyond a few weeks - a milkmother stepped in, someone dedicated to Sootstar, someone gone, now, just like the rest. She plucks a leaf out of her mentor's tail idly, the conversation of Spotkit carrying on without her. Firefang's comment brings her gaze up, and briefly she drifts it across Scorchstreak, wondering if she would've been a well off tunneler. She's still small enough to be one, after all.

"What of Cygnetstare's kittens?" she speaks up, finally, "Like - @gravekit , that one's still smaller than her peers. I doubt she'll hit a big enough growth spurt any time soon," Cottonpaw hums, further grooming Wolfsong's plumed tail of the foliage that's gotten caught in it lately.​