the creature from above } bloom milestone #1

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — Genuine warmth had finally come to grace Windclan's territory, seeping into every corner that had once been occupied by horrible, agonizing chill. Newleaf had properly arrived and Rattleheart found that she couldn't be happier, enjoying the fact that she could lay in her nest alongside Venomstrike without needing to burrow into him for warmth. Not that he ever seemed to mind - or that she didn't enjoy the fluff crowding her - but it was nice that she could now stretch herself lazily out from their nest without snow biting at her paws the moment they left moss. The lead warrior no longer dreaded the coming of the morning, and instead looked forward to the slow crawl of the sun up from the bottom of the sky. She could enjoy the sunrise once more, shaking herself out as her jaws parted in a yawn.

There was a new scent drifting through the air, sweet and vaguely familiar but not immediately recognizable to the tunneler's senses. Normally that would be enough to set off warning bells in her head, though this time she found herself strangely unconcerned.

It wasn't until she pushed her slim form through the heather tunnel that she identified the source of the fresh smell, a soft gasp leaving her muzzle as the moorlands came properly into view before her. Rather than the sea of white and occasional green that she had grown used to over the past several moons, the moors were overflowing with a growing crowd of colors, wildflowers peeking out from the usual grasses all over. They swayed lightly in the breeze, all in various states of growth as they reached up towards the sunlight edging over the horizon. It was all so beautiful, and smelled so honeyed and enticing that she couldn't help but fling herself forward, throwing up petals in her wake as laughter bubbled forth from her muzzle. "Everyone, come see the fields! Starclan has properly blessed us for newleaf!" She wouldn't even begrudge the kits taking the chance to peer out from the heather tunnel, though she doubted it would be long before the herd of flowers came crawling down into Windclan camp proper as well.

// welcome to the first official milestone for the WINDCLAN WILDFLOWERS MARCH BADGE EVENT!


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    longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    49 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    currently mentoring downypaw
    somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
    all opinions are ic
 
༄༄ The turning of the seasons has brought with it fairer weather, and the lead warrior is appreciative. Not only will the tunneling be easier now that the soil is beginning to thaw, but hunting will be easier now that life is returning to the territory. The nights have become less frigid, as well—though Scorchstreak has never been particularly concerned about staying warm.

A yawn splits their maw as they rise from their nest, dappled tail brushing gently over the gently rising and falling flank of the cat in the nearest nest. As much as they may wish to remain in the comfort of their nest all day, they need to get up and go about their duties. They have hunting to do, and the tunnel to RiverClan needs cleaning up. Standing and stretching, they make their way through the camp before heading toward the entrance.

The sound of bright laughter brings the calico to Rattleheart’s side, scarred face turning to face the moorland as they slink through the heather tunnel. Golden eyes trace across the horizon, where countless flowers are silhouetted against the rising sun’s light. "It’s beautiful," they breathe, wonder and amazement bleeding into their voice. "Do you think it’s a sign?" Perhaps StarClan truly has smiled upon them, and has sent them a sign of their approval. Perhaps it is a reward, for all their hardship over the past half-year. Whatever the cause, Scorchstreak is certainly not complaining. They and Pinkpaw will have to go gather some flowers later on, once they’ve completed their daily training. They might even be able to convince their apprentice to skip out on battle training in favor of picking flowers—or they could recruit Bluepool to decorate their nests just as they’d discussed.
 
heatherpaw had been born in autumn, when the leaves fell off the tree and turned all manner of reds and oranges. he'd never seen a spring flower, nor had he seen so many bright colors that weren't on sides of two-leg dens. if he was being honest, it was kind of a lot of colors, and the amount of pollen that they put into the air, making his nose itch, was kind of annoying. "yeah, beautiful." he breathed, keeping his pessimistic thoughts to himself.

a sign. he came up next to scorchstreak, his head tilted as he scanned green eyes over the blend of bright colors. it was all sharp, crisp lines in the sunlight. "what would it be a sign for?" he inquired, ears flattening as his nose itched and twitched. he forced back a sneeze and huffed through his nostrils. over the past few moons, even when he was a kit, there'd been nothing but what he had to describe as war. all that his clan, his family, had done has kill. injure, maim, if you wanted to get into the less gritty details. did she mean a sign that they'd done the right thing? surely, nothing they did could be right.

"at least it's finally warm." he sighed, sitting back on his haunches to soak the sun into his face. he hadn't felt sun like this yet. the sky had always been shrouded in grey, and now he never wanted the warmth to leave.

———————---***LIKE A TRAIN ON A TRACK***———————---

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  • lilac / red tabby chimera with low white and green eyes
    6 moons old; ages the 15th every month
    unknown orient. ; currently not looking
    son of npc and npc
    windclan ; loyal to windclan, doesn't understand why sootstar is gone
    slightly difficult to befriend ; not quick to trust these days
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
Rattleheart's enthused cry rouses Snakehiss' attention ( and pretty much the attention of everyone else in camp ), prompting the disgraced warrior to glance toward his current meal companion, @sparkspirit , and silently suggest that they should have a look. It wasn't as if Snakehiss usually gave a damn about what Rattleheart had to say, but she seemed rather amused by what lay beyond the Sandy Hollow. Just about anything was entertaining to the black tom these days, especially as much of his time was spent sitting about in camp.

The tom pads out onto the open moor, viridian gaze beholding the expanse of blooming flowers. The territory hasn't appeared this colorful in quite some time... at least before everything had changed.

Not even the snooty Snakehiss could deny the beauty that was the fields of color; if he were to complain about anything, it would be the heavy pollen that tickled his nostrils or the bees buzzing past his ears. His clanmates begin murmuring, even suggesting that this sight may be a sign sent from their warrior ancestors. "It's a sign that newleaf is here. What else could it mean?" He lightly scoffs, as if the prospect of this vibrant bloom signifying anything otherwise was out of the question. Did flowers not normally bloom whenever leafbare waned?

Snakehiss takes a moment to think, staring out onto the sea of flora. A patch of violets catches his eye, standing out from the rest; he thinks of the red-striped she-kit that bore the same name. His daughter. Stars, it's still difficult to grow used to the fact that he has children now.

Perhaps this bloom did signify something more than what met the eye — change.

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    *
    snakehiss
    he/him; moor runner of windclan
    long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and multiple scars
    father to violetkit, waspkit, cricketkit, and privetkit (duskclan)
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​
 

Where others felt joy, Sootspot hung back, tall wildflowers grasping at his form like fingers as he walked forward. It was a logical relief he felt; more flowers meant more food for prey, more food for prey meant more food for WindClan. Prey driven underground by frigid winters no longer had to be flushed out by Tunnelers, the Moor-Runners could finally do their job once more, the power to starve a clan mercifully taken from his obsidian paws. Rattleheart's words were the only thing that could distract him from merriment, her exclamation sending a ripple down his spine. 'It is not StarClan.' The thought came easy to the chimera, who did not praise the Stars for anything that happened. It was not a denial of their existence, rather, a rejection of it: such an ugly thing did not get to determine what their territory looked like. 'It's the blood of the fallen that has sprouted new blooms.' So much crimson had been shed that the soil must've been enriched with the ichor of cats who shouldn't have been dead. If their wills had been strong enough to feed the plans in such a way, perhaps he could find advantages to their demise.

Ears twitch as Scorchstreak's comment, the way she finds meaning in something that happens every fourth moon. Heatherpaw is quick to question it, Snakehiss is quick to dismiss it. It was a dangerous question that the ex-Deputy posed, a reminder of things that affected more than just himself. "A sign, perhaps..." he looked towards Snakehiss with a smile, quick to correct him (as he should've done when his mother was still alive, he decided). "That all in WindClan have been forgiven for their sins." A reminder that they were not the only ones who should be scorned was the only defence the tom had. Things had changed for him, the respect his presence had demanded was now nothing short of a joke shared between the new authority - but, as the plentiful blooms would wither, so would the idea that he would remain defanged forever. Perhaps next year, it would be the blood of traitors that fertilised the flowers. Unknowingly, he crushed one of the many flowers between his paws as he trudged past, content to try and make the most of the beauty in front of him - even if snakes had already made their way into this garden of eden.


 
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Morning was perhaps one of her favorite times of day, the way the sun lit up the sky, rising in the distant horizon as it bathed the earth in soft hues of pink and blue. She would run forever while the earth woke if she could and certainly, in StarClan, that's what she would be doing. Running and running and running across the sky, chasing an infinite dawn and following the sun across the sky. It is not much different than what she is doing now, she reflects with a soft huff of amusement.

Patrols are leaving for their early morning walkabouts and she is beckoning Featherpaw to come with her on a run, as is customary for their days where they were not on a patrol first thing. Running then training and whatever else the day called for. It is so easy to settle into this familiar routine, to find comfort iin the day-to-day.

Today is different though, she can tell from the moment she makes her way out of camp and nearly runs into Rattleheart and Scorchstreak. "Oh... wow..." her voice is barely a breath as she lays eyes on the landscape before her. Flowers like she has never seen cover the expanse of the moors. "It's beautiful" she says at the same time she can feel tears spring to her eyes. Quickly, before ayone can see, she reaches up and wipes them away with the back of her paw. 'Do you think it's a sign' Scorchstreak says from next to her. Some cats are quick to disagree, to point out that it's just new-leaf. Her nephew even goes as far as to say that it is a sign of forgiveness. Yeah he would like that wouldn't he it takes all of her willpower not to roll her eyes. "I think it's a sign that we are in for a bountiful new-leaf" she declares, voice loud for all those around them to hear and her golden eyes shining with mirth "But I am no medicine cat so take my words with a grain of chickfeed if you will" her whiskers twitch in amusement. Perhaps Cottonpaw or Wolfsong would know what this meant if it was indeed a sign from the stars.
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    BLUEPOOL WINDCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO SOOTSTAR & MINTSHADE
    A small framed moor runner with a blue toned pelt and black stripes. Her tail is cropped and her eyes are golden in color. On her chest, she sports a large 'X' shaped scar.
    Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + isn’t above using dirty tricks in order to win
 
𓆝 . ° ✦ The little fawn tabby had woken due to the general commotion outside. He scrunched his face, stretched his legs, and his jaw split wide with the biggest yawn probably known to cat. He thought, at least. He wasn't exactly a deep sleeper. He could hear others ooh-ing and ahh-ing at... something. He was suddenly very determined to figure out why. With a quick rub of his eyes, the small kit was off, on his way to discover what the older cats were on about. No one seemed to be stopping him as he ventured closer to the entrance of camp, and with a newfound confidence, he strut through. The vigor in his step dissipated nearly as soon as he saw the vast swath of colors over the rolling hills of WindClan's territory. He didn't even know how to process the sheer amount of color and land he was seeing. His jaw hung open comically, as if he were entranced by the painting ahead of him. "Whoa..."
 ° .  . ° 
  • ooc:
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    NAME — HE/HIM ・ 2 MOONS ・ KIT & WINDCLAN ・ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL
    Small fawn tabby with pale green eyes.
    "speak" thoughts action
    — peaceful, healing, and minor injury powerplay allowed
 
Sheepkit perked up his ears, swiveling them around to listen to all the sudden commotion outside the comfort of the nursery. He lifts his head up, sleepily as he lets his maw split open in a yawn. What's going on? He starts to stretch out his legs, shaking out his long pelt before going off to follow after his denmate. The black smoke goes off, following after Grasskit with a hum escaping his maw. He ventured his way closer to the entrance to camp, noting the older cats ooh-ing and ahh-ing something he didn't know of. With newfound confidence, he strut on through. He lets his mouth fall mouth, blue eyes looking at he rolling hills of Windclan's territory sparkling with awe. PRETTY! He bounces on his toes in excitement, giggling at all the crafted colors ahead of him. "WOAAH SO COOL! PRETTY! "

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  • no ref yet </3
  • ( NO WAY! REALLY?! ) SHEEPKIT : kitten of windclan
    — cismale ; HE / HIM ; currently 3 moons
    ✦ undecided / single / not actively looking / open to puppy-crushes
    — a longhaired black smoke with high white & blue eyes
    action , thoughts , "Speech, f8ede3"
    — smells of early morning dew & windblown heather

    - tags / @ on discord for plots
    - penned by calzone

 
-


Dimmingsun is seldom amongst the cats who feel the need to try and burrow under themselves in order to keep warm - his fur remains big and fluffy even during the hottest of moons, let alone when snow hits the ground and the need for some extra protection rises up. He's often just a pile of golden-brown in the middle of WindClan's camp, only a bit of his curled ears poking out in the dimly lit evenings of the moor. This morning, when he feels sun hit his flank and he must stir, he is all but sprawled along the tufts of grass that make his nest.

Rattleheart's voice registers first, and then the fact that she is laughing, so Dimmingsun is perfectly content with making a show of getting up, slowly but surely. By the time what Rattleheart actually said seeps in, Dimmingsun is able to decipher; it really has been a warmer night.

If he's being honest, he doesn't see how the natural change of seasons could be StarClan's doing - snow melted to give way for new growth even before the discovery of their existence -, but he won't be the one to dampen the mood. Some light-hearted fun is what they all deserve now.

"Hope the prey is as impressed with all this as we are," he says with a twitch of an ear. "If I see 'em frolic in all those flowers, then I'll really believe it's a bountiful new-leaf."




 
OH, WHAT IT MEANS TO BE SOMEONE
THAT EVERYBODY HAS TO TALK TO
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periwinklebreeze 19 moons demi-boy windclan lead warrior
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" Th-thats... a lot of f-flowers, " comes periwinklebreeze's quiet voice - but it's warm, filled with amusement and fondness. Newleaf is always a stunning sight on the moorlands - greenery and colorful flowers returning in full force. It simply seems that this season it's come far sooner, and stronger than before. " St-starclan has blessed us for f-following their will, " he breathes, agreeing easily with scorchstreak and sootspot and bluepool. He's always been rather reverent of the stars - any cat who'd grown up under sootstars rule would be. After all, she'd once basked in their power and grace, before she'd been cast from their favor for her sins. Still, it's a mesmerizing sight - and despite the heavy cloud of sleeplessness hanging over his head that morning he too cannot help but stop to take in the sight, basking in the fresh scent.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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H EH ADN OO N ET H A TH EC O U L DT A L KT O
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The change of seasons has not escaped the pale-furred kit’s notice. The days are becoming brighter with increased sunshine—a blessing and a curse, as the new warmth comes with a blinding light that cannot be easily escaped. Yet Blizzardkit is optimistic, happy with the turning of the weather. And as they hear Rattleheart and some of their other clanmates discussing something, the kit makes their way to the very end of the heather tunnel of the camp’s entrance, eyes wide as they look out at the flowers that Rattleheart points out. From somewhere nearby, Periwinklebreeze comments on how StarClan has blessed them, and big white ears perk up with interest. "StarClan made those?" They ask, with a glance at Periwinklebreeze. The kit knows little of StarClan, but they know that their mother and siblings are there. Did they make all these flowers appear? If Blizzardkit asks then to make more, will they bring the flowers into camp, so she can play with them? "They are… pretty."
 

Firefang could say without a doubt the Moor-runners had it so much better in the warmth of new leaf, the tunnelers had every right to be envious and she hoped they were. This season brought prosperity after suffering it was natures renewal and as much as Firefang's mood fluctuated from dour to downright raving mad being out here on the moorlands in the tall grass and wildflowers brought her a form of peace. She loved running the moors, the thrill of chasing the most fleetfooted of hares was unbeatable and the surroundings themselves were beautiful. It's funny watching the Tunnelers delight themselves in the seasons gifts, she can't fault Rattleheart in their excitement it was a extraordinarily beautiful day more-so then it'd been just days before. Even a grumpy soul like her couldn't stop the corners of her maw from lifting as she strode out the camp to fully take in the scenery.

She listens to the awe of her clanmates and shakes her head, as nice as it'd be if Starclan themselves had been the ones to bless them she finds herself doubtful. It's Sootspot's words and Periwinklebreeze's that she repeats "Forgivin' for our sins and blessin' us for followin' their will huh? That's rich" who knew what they were thinking up there far above them - she just... thinks it's to soon. "They're just givin' us a break, lettin' us have some nice weather that's all. Nothin' that big" she's scared to get her hopes up in reality, she's uncomfortable with the thought of what they'd pay for this fortune. She was never an optimist.

She pushes past it clearing her throat passing a look towards Dimmingsun who said something that did get her attention, prey was likely to be enjoying this weather just as much. A tongue swipes over her lips. "Only one way to find out, im goin' huntin" she announces "Anyone wanna come with" she doubts there will be any interest, especially with her but whatever she'd throw the offer out there.

 
✧.* With a call from the warrior, Silverpaw's eyes flitted to the heather tunnel where Clanmates were exiting. He peered at it for multiple moments, observing the others as they went to see what Rattleheart was talking about. After a while, though, he seemed to make up his mind whether or not to join them, rising to his paws and approaching the heather tunnel. It was certainly a sight to see. Snow had melted away into greenery and flowers which blanketed the territory, and even the ever-emotionless Silverpaw's eyes widened at the beauty of it. Although the pollen made his nose a little itchy, it didn't stop him from enjoying the scenery. He certainly was thankful for the warmth that had come, his thin fur making it rather difficult to stay warm in the colder moons.

He stayed a little ways away from the others, reserved as ever. He listened to them speak, ears perked and attentive to each word the others were saying albeit not providing any opinions of his own. There weren't many opinions to be had, after all, as Silverpaw simply appreciated the change of season without giving much thought as to if it were some sign from StarClan or whatnot. Instead, he focused on the wildflowers which dotted the land, deciding to take a closer look at them. However, as he bent down to sniff at a wildflower, pollen that had been resting on the petals danced up to tickle his nose, and Silverpaw nearly stumbled onto his rump as an embarrassingly loud "ACHOO!" sounded from him. He shook his head, raising his paw to rub at his snout in a futile attempt to fight away another sneeze.


  • ooc

  • Silverpaw. / Tags
    → WindClan apprentice
    → Transgender male (he/him)
    → Seven moons; ages every month
    → Mentored by ?? (TBD)
    → Text. "Speech." Thoughts.
    ╰┈➤ penned by liobleu
 
Cottonpaw stretches in the medicine cat den's entrance, claws arcing into newly sprung grass that speckles the camp. She sees plenty of cats crowding the camp's exit and eyes them with curiosity, blue gaze twinkling as they always do. Her turns to look behind her, wondering if Wolfsong has stayed the night in their den or slept, curled up, with his mate. Regardless she follows the crowd, squeezing between cats to see the new life breathed into the moor as well.

They chat about what this must mean, and for a few moments she cannot help but wonder too. A sign from StarClan, surely - but for what? She loathes to agree with Sootspot, that it may be a sign that they're absolved from their sins. Her aunt thinks simpler, that they are gifted with a bountiful newleaf. After a beat, Cottonpaw finally speaks.

"It could mean many things," and she's only an apprentice. Wolfsong may think differently. "A bountiful newleaf, being forgiven for our sins - all in all, I think it is a promise for new beginnings. The grass and flowers sprout up despite the snow we had mere days ago - stubborn they are, stubborn we must be to continue to persevere," she breathes out, grinning before looking towards the warriors, "bring back plenty of prey! I propose we have a feast to celebrate the start of this season," and surely the warriors will enjoy catching it all once again. Cottonpaw looks to the lingering kittens, then asking, "And you lot - you better be ready. Newleaf is certainly exciting as a kitten - I can remember it well enough." Her grin doesn't waver and her tail lashes.

"Oh," she turns again to look outwards, ear twitching, "The moors must be plentiful with herbs. I can't wait to go looking - I've gotten a lot better since I've started."
 
A pleasant breeze ruffles short fur, and Moonfury pauses for a moment to take a deep breath in. Nearly immediately she recoils in a sneeze, ears flattening briefly in embarrassment as eyes turn her way. She sniffs, loosing a small grunt into the air as she manages to breathe again. Flowers. She's been here for a whole cycle of seasons now, and she's pretty sure the moors weren't covered in this many flowers last year. She'd forgotten how bad her allergies could get.

Her Clanmates comment of StarClan, of blessings and forgiveness, and the dark-furred molly makes a small noise that might just be amusement. It's just newleaf. The bees must have gotten into the flower seeds early, or something. Moonfury doesn't share in their spirituality, but she does watch the conversation with a small smile upon her maw.

"I'll take it over snow any day." She comments idly, a flicker of warmth in yellow eyes. "Save a spot for me in your patrol, Firefang."

 
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What does newleaf's bounty mean? What does the excess of flowers speak of when they fill the fields with colorful serenity. His clanmates muse over it, a sign from StarClan, a sign of rich prey, an indication of nothing more than the changing season. Bearpaw pads forward in silence to observe.
A section of the moorland is spotted in vivid red, blood spilling from the earth and pooling upward. WindClan is free of sin - but the land weeps in reply to the contrary. His blue eyes are fixated on that point in the distance as he lumbers forward on heavy paws too big for his body and stumbles to a stop by the sanguine stains; poppy flowers. Not blood. His favorite really, he liked the way they burst into color across a field of greens and golds, vibrant in the way the sun set against the sky is - visible in a way that makes him long to be as blatantly unique.
The rosette dappled young tom reaches out a paw, poppy plucked between two toes to raise up into the air and he idly tucked it into the fur of his head before grabbing another, a silent ritual splashing his pelt in a red he would never wish to see in any form than floral - maybe if he smeared them into paste he could claim battle prowess, a sign of struggle and war to signify his worth but the idea of crushing the flowers at all leaves him teetering.
He doesn't want to do that, he won't.
He glances back at Silverpaw with a start as the other apprentice sneezes abruptly and he offers a smell, "Bless you." Paw waved idly to the wildflowers near him clustered in blue and whites, "Those ones match you."

  • Interacting with @Silverpaw.

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    Bearpaw
    —⊰⋅ Apprentice of WindClan
    —⊰⋅ He/Him
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ SH Chocolate Rosette Tabby w/blue eyes.

 

The snow and frost felt like a distant dream as Quitepaw gazed upon the bountiful moorlands. Or perhaps this was the dream, and his body was still left in the harsh cold, fast asleep. Like many others, the tom had been startled awake by the dread of another cat yelling. Sending him flying to his paws. Until he realized what Ratttleheart actually said, he felt a little silly. It was a nice reason to be yelling, plus it got the clan talking positively amongst each other, a welcomed change.

As for the black apprentice, the thoughts in his head were silent for once, allowing him to take in the rainbow of flowers, the crisp morning wind, and the smell of new- leaf free from stress. Peaceful. Listening to his clanmate chatter brought hope that things were only going to get better from here.

Till he heard a sneeze reminding him that it's not only pretty flowers that new-leaf brings. 'Poor Silverpaw' he thought. Here come the allergies. At least his mind was free from worry for just a moment.


 
*+:。.。 Being a child born into the cold era of leaf-bare, she couldn't imagine a world where she didn't need to tuck closely into her fur for warmth. But despite her limited knowledge on seasons and the changing of them, fry instinctively felt the change in the air. Her ears burned less, the smell of frozen water that lingered in the air was no longer as prominent and, more than anything, she noticed how much livlier her clanmates where becoming. Rattleheart's call woke her from her slumber, but Grasskit's unhinging jaw in support of his massive yawn was what got her up. Giggling furiously, she opened her mouth to comment on it, when her timid brother suddenly got to his feet and sprouted wings!
Fry sniffed, a little irritated that she'd been ignored, before twirling her ears to focus instead on the commotion outside.

Scrambling after Grasskit, unused to being his follower for once, she'd sweep her pale gaze over the gathered felines. Signs and beauty seemed to be the theme of the conversation as all eyes were focused on the heather tunnel and what lay beyond. No one noticed Grasskit easing closer, so Frightkit quickly bounded after him. She felt excited as she broke the cardinal rule of not entering the tunnel until her sixth moon, the heather that brushed her flanks feeling much softer than she'd expected.

She gazed in awe at the overflowing number of colors as she bumped into Grasskit. "So pretty " she mews, tempted to ask if it'd always been like this but finding the answer in the continued conversation all around her. She glances from Peri to Blizzardkit before mewing, "Why'd starclan wait so long to do this then? "




  • " Speech "
    GENERAL:
    Frightkit
    DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
    2 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Windclan Kit
    Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit

    COMBAT:
    Physically very easy | mentally very easy
    Attack in bold #1b1e21
    injuries: None
 
  • Love
Reactions: Grasspaw
The moors were always beautiful in newleaf. Irispath stands with his clanmates as he looks over the moors at all the flowers waking up and gracing them with their beauty. To think that the most gorgeous of the territories belonged to the most bloodthirsty cats.... He wonders if the bloodshed is what helped these flowers grow to such beauty. But that is the past, and when Irispath looks out over the land, he is hopeful. Things are going to be better... It will all be okay.

Perhaps he'll go out later and bring some home, the camp could always use decorating, anything to liven it up. His clanmates could use a few accessories too. That's for a later time, though. For now, he sits in silence as he listens to his clanmates talk about what the bloom could mean. He's not sure it means anything, doesn't think it's Starclan's doing.... The flowers wake up every year, after all. The simple sight of nature and life returning to the moors is enough to fill him with hope and optimism.

He only hopes the feeling isn't temporary, and that he can cleanse his soul with this feeling and continue to look forward instead of into the past at all of his failures.​
 

✧ . Her first new-leaf in WindClan seems so long ago now. A time of healing wounds and a new world to calm home, its beauty had not been much of focus in her earliest days of apprenticeship.

Even so, Sparrowbreeze doesn’t think it could compare to this, to the sight she’s welcomed to when she rises from her nest and heads to the edge of camp in preparation for her morning’s patrol. She stops in her tracks at the scene, amber gaze wide in awe.

Oh wow, “ she meows at the bursts of color, of yellows and whites and pinks and more for as far as she can see. “ It’s not… It’s not usually like this, is it?

Had it been like this last new-leaf? The brown tabby doesn’t think so. Had StarClan truly blessed them, then? Just as her clanmates think? With all that they’ve gone through, with all they’ve had to endure between this new-leaf and the last, Sparrowbreeze is inclined to think such, as she pads towards a splotch of yellow and assesses the petals before her.

They’re so pretty… “ Part of her wonders if she should gather a few, if she should weave them into her nest, her fur. ​
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    SPARROWBREEZE AFAB. She / Her. Moor Runner of WindClan.
    ✧ . A scarred, brown tabby she-cat with low white and amber eyes.
    ✧ . Birdie x Fisher
    ✧ . Mentored by Clawtail
    ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
    ✧ . Penned by Abri@_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
    ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack