- Apr 24, 2023
- 14
- 1
- 3
There is a lot to miss about RiverClan's old camp. The shells that littered the clearing, the decorations woven into the dens, the willow tree that sits at the edge of camp and whose long tendrils sway softly in the breeze. She lets out a loud sigh. The beech copse was starting to feel like home. Cats had taken steps in order to make them all feel better but the shells were not as plentiful. The light dancing off of them could alert the WindClanners to their presence. Too late for that, she thinks bitterly, remembering how they had raided them not too long ago. She misses their island, where she had felt safe.
Tallwave had always been a weaver. She likes working with her paws, making something beautiful and she is working on a nest now. Reeds, moss, feathers, she weaves them all together into a intricate pattern that makes the reeds look like waves. Up and down they go in a circle, holding the moss together. The feathers are added for comfort and then the shells and rocks for decoration. She steps back, admires her handwork with the kind of love in her eyes that only a creator could posses and then she turns to the nearest cat. "I got bored and made a nest, but it seems I already have one. You want it?" She asks while using one paw to slide the thing closer to the cat in question.