𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ╱ 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

[SUNNVAR]

He had known that trouble would come long before he had exited camp. It was a late patrol, the sun fading off into the distance and the sky turning a deeper blue at their backs. The grass that has regrown makes for a thin, wispy barrier between their paws and the fire-swept dirt as they trudge along. With every step the wind seemed to dig deeper into their pelts. In the far distance he sees the leaves of ThunderClan's trees sweep ever upwards, their pale underbelly exposed to the pale sun that is shielded in part by thick, tumultuous clouds. Had they not been paler than this, when they first left camp? Trouble would come, he knew that as he always did, yet certainly they'd had more time than this.

The first droplet he feels strikes him squarely on the bridge of his nose. Sunstar huffs and shakes his head like a wet dog but the discomfort of flattened fur refuses to fade. After that, they come in quick succession. The backs of his ears, the top of his skull — he cannot feel them too terribly along his back with how thick his fur is, but he knows the weight of raindrops is slowly, steadily building. They're a good distance from camp. It would take a while to trek back. With that thought comes the first lightning strike. Its light pierces the sky and carves it in two. That highstones does not split apart beneath its force. . . he swears that the boom of thunder following it must be the mountain falling apart. Rain falls faster. Infrequent drops band together into a tidal wave, and with weighted whiskers he turns back to his patrol: "We will find shelter until this passes!" he shouts over the pounding rain. "Lest we drown in this downpour," he mutters, mostly to himself.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) 〚 06.17 〛 🟒ᨒ

• ooc: i'm challenging myself to complete three+ replies to this thread and i'd loooove some peeps to join me in this :D
• ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆  ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀
  ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.
  
  
  
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

• "speech"

​

 

[cottonsprig]

She can vaguely remember moons and moons ago, being caught in a downpour with Sunstar before. He looked hardly any different then, if her memory serves correctly. The tom was nothing short of a shaggy wet dog when waterlogged by the rain, and his loud, booming voice imitated that of a hound, too. Cottonsprig, just as soaked as he, figured she looked more akin to a furless hare than a behemoth to behold.

"Shelter where?" she asks, too raising her voice to be heard over the thunder. Lightning cracks again and she flinches, but she presses on with the rest of the patrol. "There are tunnels nearby, but your rump would get stuck in any one of them!" Cottonsprig teases her leader, a jester's smile on her face before another thunderclap spooks her into jumping about a foot into the air.​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Wolfsong is not fond of the rain. He can weather it, of course, but he prefers snow, which does not muddy the ground (not until it melts, at least). Snow tends to have less fanfare, too, content with howling winds instead of snapping lashes of light and cracking thunder. He had not left to scour the moors with his mate and former apprentice, but was searching for herbs on his own, and in truth, he is grateful to see the small smattering of cats appear in his periphery. He is quick to seek them out at a light trot, ears tilted back against the downpour, and he arrives in time to catch the last flight of their conversation.

"Perhaps his rump could keep the rain out for the rest of us! Another day, I would like to see that — but not now. What of the badger set? I should think Sunstar is capable of fitting there." Though it is surely a dark place where cats have perished to sickness, including Weaselclaw. Still, it is a necessity that they escape this deluge before it worsens.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 46 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ 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.
  — ★★★☆☆ 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..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ 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."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ 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.
• — ★★★★★ 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.
  — ★★★☆☆ 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.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ 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.

​

 

[Grasspaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ Grasspaw followed his leader with his mentor, growing increasingly nervous at the sight of the darkening clouds.The weather had certainly taken a turn for the worst. Rain drip, drip, dripped steadily faster. It darkened his fawn coat and weighed it down. Not nearly as much as his long-furred companions but enough to make him look frail and tiny amongst them. He hated to admit he might actually prefer the tunnels at the moment. He still had to learn their borders though, so out here he was, in the rain.

"I don't think I'd mind a tunnel right now..." he meowed, mostly to himself. He moved closer to Mossthorn instinctively, seeking the comfort of his mentor. Thunder crashed and made him jump.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: Mentor tag @Mossthorn
• 

  GRASSPAW — HE/HIM ･ 6 MOONS ･ TUNNELER APPRENTICE & WINDCLAN ･ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL

  Small fawn tabby with pale green eyes.
  "speak" thoughts action
  — peaceful, healing, and minor injury powerplay allowed

​

 

[SHEEPPAW]

His dark nose scrunches up when the first droplet hits him. Shaking his head from the wetness, he cranes his neck towards the sky, narrowing his sky-blue eyes at the darkened clouds rolling in. Wha- "ACK-!" He scrabbles up onto his paws, with a flick of his plumed tail. As downpour hits his once dry coat, weighing it down. He shivered at how heavy his coat felt now that rain was drenching him on all sides. Ugh.

Large ears flick back towards his damp skull, as he hurries along toward Grasspaw who is standing next to his mentor. With a slight grimace placed on his face, he speaks. "I! Wholeheartedly agree, Grasspaw! The black smoke nods his head firmly at his denmate. He arched his back at the loud crash of thunder, that came from the sky above. Sheeppaw calms down with a shaky laugh, then looks to the side and stares at the fawn tabby apprentice. "Uhh, I don't think I'll fit in a tunnel! Since y'know-" He waves a charcoal - dusted leg out, shaking it through the rain with a snort. "Long legs!"

FEEL THE LAUGHTER BUILD ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 SLUMBER PARTIES

•  
• no ref yet </3
• ( HEY! WHATCHA GOT? ) ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ SHEEPPAW. ╱ windclan apprentice.
  ⤷ amab ; HE / HIM ; 8 MOONS & AGES EVERY 29TH.
  ✶ undecided / not looking / open to puppy-crushes
  ✶ a lanky, longhaired black smoke with high white and blue eyes
  ✶ thoughts ; "Speech, 8E7F7F" ; attacks only
  ✶ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✶ smells like early morning dew & windblown heather
  — all opinions are ic
  
  → biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ Even in the midst of the downpour, Sunstar's laugh booms like thunder. A sharp, singular sound that should come with a spark of its own, but he was given no more control of this weather than over his deaths. Instead he grins even through rain-narrowed eyes and the haze of soaked fur that tickles his brow. Wolfsong adds to their count, so he does it again– one, two, three, four, five, six, seven? Two of them apprentices, but not nearly enough. At least WindClanners were small, he supposes. The badger sett carved deeply into the earth, into large tunnels and cozy burrows. They might just fit there. And so he nods to Wolfsong, sharp. "This way, then!" He turns his back to the sun: that dreary, hidden thing whose rays cannot quite fight past the curtain of gray even despite this late night.

He urges the others on ahead. Cottonsprig, Wolfsong, Gravelsnap and Sheeppaw as well — but to Mossthorn and Grasspaw he motions closer. "You may do as you need, the rest of us will manage if the tunnels would be safer." He worries about the structure of them. Soaked ground collapsing on top of them. But he does not know much of tunnels, and perhaps his worries are unfounded. Mossthorn would know better. He chooses trust, however difficult.

Then he turns to bound back towards the departing group. (When he runs, the loss of his leg does not impact him nearly so terribly. The loping gait is easily steadied with just the one. It feels good, even in this stinging rain.) "Quickly then!" he shouts, guiding them towards the mound he can just barely see through the shimmering downpour. Another lightning strike carves through the silver storm and slams into the distant earth. A moment later, he hears its rumble roll throughout the moor. Did it come quicker this time? Did that mean the lightning itself was closer? Drowning may be the least of their concerns, the warrior does not say. Sunstar finds himself matching Wolfsong's gait regardless, shoulder to shoulder with their medicine cat, bad leg to blind eye, as if they might be forced to fight this storm tooth and claw for their survival.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

• 

  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.

• "speech"

​

 

[cottonsprig]

It's difficult to see with the downpour, but Wolfsong's countenance is a welcome one once he parts the rain to join them. He joins in their pitiful joking, suggesting the badger sett to be a safe place to shelter for now. Her approval is tainted by memories, her jaw tensing to halt herself from suggesting anything else out of discomfort. With many so of them, the hovel is the only place they could pause within comfortably - though she almost volunteers herself to follow Grasspaw and his mentor when they're offered a chance to split off.

Thunder rumbles shortly after lightning cracks and Cottonsprig keeps close to the patrol, running after them. While she does not lack an eye or a limb, nor do her lungs struggle with overuse - the she-cat is noticeably slower after a few moments. She picks up her pace again as the badger sett comes into view, hopeful that no cat noticed her lagging. She slips in somewhere in the middle and takes care to not immediately shake out her fur.

"Groom yourself the opposite way if you want to warm up faster!" she huffs, feeling still like a wet rat. The complaints don't take long, her ears pinning back, "Do the clouds know that we're WindClan, not... RainClan? Or -" Cottonsprig perks up again, slightly as she finds a better punchline to her joke, "Or ThunderClan for that matter. They seem like the better option for all of this."​

 

[Mossthorn]

Clouds hung heavy in the sky, casting a shadow onto their late evening patrol. Mossthorn doesn't mind though, a little rain never hurt anyone after all. And besides, the moor could use it. The heather was regrowing, but in the hot green-leaf sun it was ever parched, the dirt turning dry and brittle under foot as it begs for any scrap of moisture to be provided. Well, mother nature seemed ever so willing to accomodate today for soon into their patrol lightning and thunder began to crack the sky in half and rain began to soak them to their very core. She does not shrink away from it like some, but rather revels in it. Where others found fear in lightning and thunder, Mossthorn only found beauty. If the electric current did deign to ever strike her then she thinks the stars would have good reason for it, her time on this earth ended for a reason greater than herself, but when she looks down at her scared apprentice, her features soften. "Just stick close to me and you'll be okay" she says softly to him, moving closer as well, a protective shield against the storm and the worst of the rain that is so intent on soaking them to their very cores.

Her whiskers twitch in amusement at their medicine cat's gentle teasings directed at their leader. Their words did hold some truth to them though, Sunstar and Sheeppaw had better chances collapsing a tunnel trying to squeeze in than actually fitting, but Mossthorn keeps her thoughts to herself, not wanting to press the issue. The badger set is a good idea and she turns to set her paws in that direction even as Sunstar fixes her and her apprentice with blue eyes, bright despite the darkness of the storm that surrounds him. "We'll stay with you Sunstar, don't you worry about us, we can keep up just fine" she assures him. She did not want to be caught in the tunnels at a time like this, but she doesn't want to scare her apprentice so she does not give her reasonings out loud but visions of floods and earth crashing down around them makes her blanche at the very idea of stepping foot underground.

She stays close to Grasspaw's side as they move through the rain, stars forbid he get separated from the patrol during a time like this, she simply would not allow that to happen. When the badger sett comes into view, she guides him and herself into the comfort of the dry den and immediately throws herself onto the stony ground with a large sigh of relief. "Alright then, see, we're okay. Everyone make it in one piece?" she says, gray eyes scanning all the faces around her. Her gaze shifts to Cottonsprig as the young medicine cat speaks, stating that StarClan must think them some other clan what with this sudden deluge but Mossthorn had been born in the marshes, and because of it she was a bit better off than some of her other rain-soaked clanmates. She turns, and starts to give her pelt a few good licks before she is ready to rejoin the conversation "If the rain continues much longer we may have to rename WindClan to MudClan" she says, whiskers twitching in amusement as she thinks of the moors as a marsh instead, the landscape reminiscent of her former home.

( .ೃ࿐ ) watch what happens next

• 
  
• MOSSTHORN WINDCLAN WARRIOR ; SHE / HER; SISTER TO TBD ; MATE TO COLDBITE
  

  A feisty she cat with a heart of gold. Her appearance is befitting her tunneler status, as she stands shorter than most, and her sleek black fur excels at repelling the dirt that she shifts through. Her eyes are such a light blue color that they appear gray and upon her pelt she wears many scars, testaments to the battles she has fought in her lifetime.

  ✦ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, no killing, maiming, or injuring without permission
  ✦ Skilled & experienced in combat. Fights dirty.
  

​