camp i wish i never spoke // guarding nursery

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 08 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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He does not care that half the clan is headed to riverclan right now. He does not care that their target is one of his moms. He doesn't. He cant even convince himself. Anxious and terrified of what could happen if they're successful... or worse, what could happen if their not, he needs to find an outlet for his energy.

Perhaps he's been spending to much time with Gravelpaw, because he suddenly remembers the other toms worries about skyclan. What if riverclan was prepared? What if they retaliated? Their camp is only so protected - open and exposed, only their youngest and sickest hidden away. What if that's not enough. The boys pacing comes to an abrupt halt, eyes wide and panicked, and h risks a glance into the nursery. Of course, nothings wrong. Theres no blood, no death, no fear. Well... only his own.

He relaxes minutely, settling down at the edge to keep a watchful. It does not matter that it's mainly sootstars kits he's protecting. In his mind a child is a child - something to be cared for, protected, and nurtured. regardless of it's parentage or past. Besides... it's not like it hurts to be to careful, right-?

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[cottonsprig]

So many of them are gone for war. Cottonkit doesn't necessarily like the emptiness that's left behind in camp - she wishes that she could've just gone with the lot of them. Maybe then she wouldn't be so bothered by the silence and trepidation. She had been cheering the lot of the raid party on as they left, but now that they're gone... she only wants their return. Her father is among them, as are her aunts, future fellow apprentices, respected warriors... She just doesn't want to see another Juniperfrost. She doesn't want that disappointment again.

Cottonkit bats a mossball a bit too out of the way, tail lashing in minor frustration. She stands from her spot and strides out of the nursery - only then does she notice Periwinklepaw and his pacing. She blinks, raises an eyebrow, and then decides that the older apprentice needs a little fun in his life. She rears up and swats the moss-ball in his direction, hoping it flies well enough to thunk against the side of his head. "Aw! Y'didn't catch it, Periwinklepaw!" she accuses him playfully.​

 

[VULTUREMASK]

He couldn't imagine what Periwinklepaw most go through right now. To found out that his own mother was a murderer who had taken a father away from his unborn kits. What exactly was their thoughts about regarding that?. What sort of feelings and thoughts was going through the apprentices head?. Vulturemask had no idea and that made him feel a bit uneasy. He had promised Hyacinthbreath to look out after her son and he had keept that promise, at least he wanted to think so. Nothing bad had ever happend to Periwinklepaw under his watchful eye and he had even included them into his own family, to give them a place to belong to. He had done everything he could to at least help with their grief to not make them feel like they where all alone...everything so they wouldn't go through the same he had. Had he done enough?.

Vulturemask had tried to guide them to help them to the best of his own ability. In the end though it was all up to Periwinklepaw to decide where he belonged. What sort of cat he wanted to be and who's side to take. Periwinklepaw was old enough now to make his own decisions even the difficult ones. All he could really do was watch and let them decide for themselves. He would be here for them, he always would be here but he would also let them go if they wanted to be somewhere else. He had no intention to control them to put them into a cage. He truly only wished the best for them.

He was on his way back to his den when he noticed Periwinklepaw pacing back and forth in front of the nursery. They looked troubled. The medicine cat decided to approach but stopped halfway there when he saw a moss ball fly out from the nursery and hit the apprentice. Vulturemask attention would search for the culprit and turned out one of Sootstars annoying brats was the guilty one. For now he said nothing just observing the situation.


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[MOORBLOSSOM]

The picture mum painted of RiverClan had been nothing short of nefarious, and Moorkit was aching to unleash a level of hell parallel to what they'd done to Juniperfrost. A trip to the border shouldn't ever cost a life. Never. Yet, the water cats elected otherwise, and now the grown-ups have gone off to fight. The inky she-kit felt confident in her clanmates' power to triumph over evil and come out on top, but within her still stirs a certain sourness; why hadn't anyone bothered to ask for her help? RiverClan better thank their lucky stars that she hadn't been brought along.

Within the nursery, the air is strained. No amount of mossball-punting can erase the fear looming over everyone's shoulders—not after seeing what happened to WindClan cats who went to the river territory, anyway. Moorkit, at least, could distract herself from the worry with play, and pretend for the time being that she wasn't nearly as afraid as she truly was.

White-cuffed paws scamper after the grassy orb, and a shrill giggle accompanies their movement. They grind to a stop as the ball thwomps into their babysitter, a turn of events which elicits more laughter from the kit. "He's no good at it!" jeers Moorkit, swinging her skull to see her younger sister. "He's too busy pondering to play with us." An impish grin follows suit. "Hey," she says, to Cottonkit again, in a whisper which was at a clearly audible volume, "since Periwinklepaw's not luhkin', we should push him over again!"​

 

[HEATHCLAW.]

Hardly another second till he could be off to war. Another minute. Another moon. It all depended on when he was told.

The first wave's been sent, N' he with another mass of warriors will be sent into the fray. Despite what he may'f said to Sparkpaw, he wasn't without nerves of his own. Waiting for the orders, he's fallen into a quiet rapture 'round camp. Blank gaze at the sky, his body perfectly still besides the furrowing of his face and antsy whip of his tail.

Only by the commotion of the nursery would he snap out of his daze, a large head swinging to the kits bouncin' about carefree, and the far more pensive forms of Periwinklepaw and the Medicine Cat. There was something between them that Heathclaw felt he'd never be privy to, and that was just fine. It isn't subtle, the reminders the world gives to you like this. The hint of a conscience inside his noggin' asks him if this is worth fighting for, but these kits certainly were. Periwinklepaw thought the same in that regard, certainly.

Moorkit, the scrap, didn't hide the fiendish nature of her whisper, and with it, he would intervene. "Ah ah." With the speed of a moor-runner, he would move to form a barrier between the kits and Periwinklepaw. His face isn't any less straight than usual, but there's somewhat of a glint in his eye. "F' you're gonna push anyone over, make it me," he gruffs, gazing at the kits with the same stubbornness he'd offer any full-grown thing.

OOC INFORMATION

• —
  
• — HEATHCLAW: he / him; cisgender male, 42 moons. moor - runner of windclan.
  — bisexual with no clear preference. single.
  — low, rumbling voice with a noticeable, but not overbearing southern drawl.
  — goes with the tides. if loyalty is what will benefit him, so be it. independent but amicable.
  
  — for windclan – a tall and broad chocolate tabby tom with half a tail. Smattered with smaller scars, the most obvious being a sharp cut across his lower jaw and eye, that of which is half-blind. Sharp-jawed with an intense hazeled stare; lost most of his tail due to an incident when he was younger.

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 08 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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It is vulturemask who catches the boys attention first, stopping him in his tracks. Blue gaze meets gold with a relieved look, but before he can even think to open his mouth all is thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the feel of soft moss thwacking him across his cheek. Startled, it takes a moment for his brain to process what just happened - before he seems to relax, grateful for the distraction that cottonkit has decided to provide.

Crouching down to be more on their level, the tom turns his pale gaze upon the blue furred child, one paw reaching out to snag the toy as he mock-whispers conspiratorially. "How c-could i c-c-cat-ch a throw th-that g-g-g-good? was t-to fast for m-me!" Moorkit is quick to join in the fun of picking on him, but somehow it's more relaxing than anything. With a gentle smile on his face, he lets out a soft laugh, tossing the mossball gently at the childs head in turn, "I'm not p-pondering i'm g-g-g-guarding you," head tips to the side in contemplation grinning turning just a bit smug "b-besides, it's not like your t-t-trick-s would w-work on me t-twice - there's no g-g-gravelpaw here to dis-tract me!" And if his face begins to warm at the thought, its not as though anyone would ever know - his inky mask hiding his fluttering nerves.

When heathclaw steps in, he sends him a simple smile - grateful for the small gesture, unnecessary though it is. It is not everyday hat anyone steps in on his behalf after all.

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[icebreath]

TAGS — Stars above, Icebreath is so incredibly relieved to have been left behind this time. The waiting game for the raid member announcements had been painful, defined by such sickening anxiety; if a warrior as fearsome and skilled as Juniperfrost had fallen in a one on one fight, she can't imagine she'd last very long on a battlefield doubtlessly teeming with seasoned fighters out for blood. RiverClan aren't kittypets — they're hardened forest cats through and through, and clearly more dangerous than even the timid, paranoid feline had given them credit for. Dishonorable, brutish, pulling an innocent cat across the border with the intent to kill.

Juniperfrost's body was an unspeakably harsh reminder of that. He was a titan — such a thundering, powerful presence in her life. Incredibly imposing, even frightening at times, but a role model nonetheless. Someone she'd always admired as much as feared. Reduced to a mere corpse. Branchfall's demise had shaken her to the core, but there's something deeply unsettling, even disturbing, about such an infallible cat meeting this fate. And about how suddenly it had happened, at least from her perspective; one moment she'd been patrolling like usual, and the next she was returning home to yet another tragedy. So much for their era of peace.

With the kits happily messing around, there's at least an illusion of it. But it's weak, fragile, threatened by Icebreath's own anxiety. How is everyone holding it together so well? Her throat is so dry, her heart is pounding, and her gut twists and churns. They're worried they might start crying at any moment, but going tunneling to seek out privacy and decompress when they should be guarding the camp isn't an option, so they hold it together. They can't show weakness. And they don't want to freak out the kits. She watches them play from close by in an attempt to ease her nerves; it's not wildly successful and her anxiety hardly fades, but at least it gives her something else to think about instead of sitting around and fixating endlessly on how miserable she feels. Maybe their mood will even rub off on her. (A pipe dream.) She wants to get involved in their games, but doesn't really want to interact much with Periwinklepaw (the insolent little child of the murderous traitor), nor are they sure they're in the right headspace for it at the moment.
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