ALMOST HOME - intro

Tallwave

lover
Apr 24, 2023
14
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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.

 

Not expecting the warrior to turn and talk to him, Fernpaw's eyes fluttered a little wider than usual- and not with awe, like they were so often stricken, but with startlement. It was a fleeting flash, though- for he was not being scolded nor ordered, but instead offered with a gift.

The silken tom had always been fond of presents; it was obvious in his fondness for giving people pebbles or feathers or shells whenever he wished to express something to them, a way to express that he cared without having to say it. And though he doubted Tallwave was giving him this nest out of anything other than convenience, that he was the closest to her, Fernpaw was appreciative of the gesture nonetheless.

His grin shone like new dawn upon his face. "Wow, yeah, please," he chimed, breathless and admiring as his verdant eyes rove the handiwork. The patterning was... was so impressive, so beautiful, it looked like only nature could craft it. Stars in his eyes, he glanced up at the warrior. "You've got to teach me how to do this."
penned by pin
 
he is nearby when the molly speaks and he glances upward in turn, blinks towards the nest in question and.. the twine is neat, plush and fernpaw, bless him, stand stunned in the wake. eyes sharpened beautifully with age stare openly before sharing his very sentiment, " mhm, you’ve certainly a paw for weaving. " he speaks, rounded vocals woven into a purr, ” though should you get bored again — perhaps smokethroat could use one. stars be willing, he’ll stop hogging mine then. “ its a lie and his grin shows it, a mischievous curl of scarred lips. the obsidian tom would be able to dispel it quickly enough if he’d heard it — since the beginning, he’d only slept comfortably by his side, regardless of where they lie. before he’d claimed his den as theirs, beneath the stars to find early in the dawn light.. blue eyes blink tender suddenly, though he seems to come back to once fernpaw exclaims. you’ve got to teach me how to do this! cicadastar quirks a brow, glances towards the silvery molly, questioning — would she be willing? ” how about a lesson? we could certainly use some practice while rebuilding our camp, ja? “

  • i.
  • ˖ ⁺ 。 ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
    58782460_YqlZfgzWBE3fACI.png
    m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.

    gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
    speaks with a german accent. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
    penned by antlers

  • cicadablueoutline.png


  • "speech"
 
his single curled ear flicks, watching the exchange between tallwave and fernpaw with a small huff of laughter. the younger's eyes gleam, as if the simple gift presented to him is as grand as the moonstone. beesong almost envies him for his childlike glee; the nest is beautiful, weaved with an intricate design that the healer could only ever dream of accomplishing himself. but he's reached a point where gifts have lost their luster, as if all of the sorrow and grief he's seen in the past season have dulled the fleeting good moments.

cicadastar's joke pulls a restrained smile out of the cinnamon tabby. another might've earned a lighthearted quip from them, but they find themselves still too tight-lipped around the river's king. afraid of retribution, should their tongue cross a line. their brow threatens to quirk disbelievingly at cicadastar, the lie is evident in the grin that twists scarred lips, but they school their expression quickly.

beesong doesn't perk up at the thought of a weaving lesson; he'd given up trying to learn moons ago, his paws too unfit for the delicate precision required for the craft. but he tilts his chin, humming. "if you're willing to part with your expert knowledge?" he adds, voice lilting playfully.
 
Lounging in what bit of warm sun they could find, Lichentail had all but tucked in all their paws to lazily sit and wait... eyes closed, ears perked... Listening. The quiet, distant lull of the river's bank was a nice enough ambiance, only further improved by the soft, kind exchanges between their wayward group. It wasn't their real home... but it was alright to move around... Lichen had moved around a lot when they were young anyways and that hadn't come with the security that being in a Clan had.

Smiling to themself at the hushed offer from another warrior, it's the shrill excited reply of Fernpaw that convinces them to wink open an eye and look at the interaction as it took place. Tallwave certainly had a talent not many others had... it was more than just useful; comfort and decoration provided a sense of calm and reassurance their displaced little 'family' needed.

Stretching their jaws in a dramatic, wide yawn, they stretched out their front paws from where they'd neatly been tucked under their chest before rising.... another pause to stretch all their legs... then with a jaunty gait, wandered closer to join the conversation. They hadn't had the pleasure of seeing Cicadastar much but his dry humor didn't evade their prying ears. Smokethroat and Cicadastar sharing sleeping quarters. Huh... Lichentail wouldn't have taken the scarred leader to be much of a cuddler.

"If you get much better than that you might become a local celebrity." It was a compliment, if even a little bit silly.​
 
જ➶ Slipping across slippery stones the feline enters camp and carries his catch gingerly. The snake slides against the ground and he drops it upon the pile before blinking his warm brown eyes upon the group talking. Their ears perk up and they shift to make their way closer to see what all the fuss is about. Hearing them clearer he looks at the nest that Tallwave is giving to Fernpaw and a wave of embarrassment pulls through them. If they were to see their own nest they would most certainly be shocked. Their own nest is not a pretty thing to look at. With things sticking out and shredded moss not fit to lay on. But they do sleep on it and well enough. They just never thought it looked that bad. With a frown on their maw he settles down and pulls his ears back against his skull. "Maybe I could do with a lesson or two as well with nest making. My own is not....the best."

Admitting it hurts but at least they can be honest about it.
 



Tallwave practically glows with pride when she sees the look on the young apprentices face after admiring her handiwork. She is glad she could do a kind thing for another, even if said thing was as small as making someone else a comfortable and aesthetically pleasing nest. Having small comforts could do wonders for the homesick and it was tiny things like this that she felt made a camp into a home. She is about to tell Fernpaw that perhaps she could lend a few moments of her time to teach but then other cats are gathering.

Heat rises to her cheeks upon their leaders praise. "Bah! You lot are over exaggerating and I know it but if you really are keen on it I spose I could teach ya" it was something small that her mother had taught her. A comfy place to lay your head down at night was everything, it being nice to look at was just an added bonus. "I just dont know how I could ever bare ta part with my secrets" she says with a good natured laugh. Lichentail says shes becoming a local celebrity at this rate and that idea prompts a toothy grin on her face. "Maybe one day, when I'm up in the stars I'll have somethin, named after me" wouldn't that be something special!

At Wolfglade's prompt to also teach him she gives up "Alright, alright, twist my leg why dont you all?" her words are accentuated again with a laugh "I can teach all of ya but you have ta pay attention" she says gathering her materials close to her. "Go and get yerselves some nest making stuff and if ya really wanna learn meet back here after the dawn patrol gets home and maybe youll have yerselves a shiny new nest before bed time" Weather it looked any good or not was completely up to their paws.