camp ALWAYS SHIFTING SHAPE [assignment]

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The weather grows more unfavorable, the wind more stiff, the prey more scarce. WindClan has managed to scrape by, keeping their heads above water, but things may not continue going so smoothly. The past winter tugs at her mind—the suffering, the sickness—as she ducks into the nursery's entrance. Bluefrost and Thriftfeather reside in the den with their litter, and it takes great effort to keep from blaming the kits for their parents' actions. The kits are innocent, unaware of the sins of the warriors before them, and allowing them to suffer as a result of Bluefrost's foolishness is not an option. Bluefrost must stay with them in order to care for them, both a punishment and a blessing, but Thriftfeather... Thriftfeather can be used. Eventually he will give up DuskClan's secrets, their weaknesses, but with the cold setting in WindClan cannot risk a battle large enough to wipe out the rogue group. They will be dealt with come springtime... if WindClan can survive until then. But what Thriftfeather can do now is get to work, hunting for himself and his kits. He cannot be trusted on his own; however, he can be trusted not to make an escape as long as he wants his kits kept safe.

"Thriftfeather," she says, rather than announcing her own presence. Her voice will give her away, anyhow. She does not wait for a response before stalking her way over to the duo, gaze flickering over their litter for hardly a moment. They are small, and they will need much more tending as they grow. SOmeday they will be strong additions to WindClan’s ranks, but for now they are a drain on the clan. "You and yours have cost us enough resources. It is time you earn your keep." She does not bother to state it gently; it is clear that Thriftfeather will not have a choice in the matter, not as long as he would like to remain alive and unharmed. "You will not leave camp without a warrior at your side at all times. But you will hunt for your kits... and your mate." The word wrinkles her nose, threatens to lift her lip in disdain. But she maintains eye contact with the golden tabby tom, her gaze sharp and serious, as she awaits his response.

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: @BLUEFROST @Thriftfeather but this is not a pafp
• 
• SCORCHSTAR ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ she/they, leader of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[Thriftfeather]

The cold that reaches into the cradle of the nursery isn't one unfamiliar, only unexpected in its arrival. Frost creeps around the fringes of things and Thriftfeather's breath leaves him as a thin fog in the mornings. Time hasn't passed enough for Leafbare to be here in earnest—it shouldn't be here in earnest—and yet its shadow hangs overhead. WindClan will be facing hard moons, Thriftfeather knowns, just as he knows how gladly WindClan will rise to meet them.

How long until snow whites the world? How long until the creeping chill is truly inescapable?

Thriftfeather's head tips Scorchstar's way as she speaks. It is an effort to not look away from her—instinct bids him to attempt to escape her distaste for him. Instead, Thriftfeather watches her as she watches him and doggedly doesn't avert himself towards the familiar. He'll be allowed to—expected—to provide. Scorchstar speaks in a tone that feels more like she is imparting a punishment rather than offering a bone to a starving dog.

Still, Thriftfeather's heart leaps in his chest. It isn't a show of trust, but it is a change regardless.

"Of course," His voice leaves him more tempered than he feels—the careful agreement that comes from being choiceless, regardless of the alignment with his own wants.​

WINDCLAN QUEEN ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 20 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

At the perch he shares opposite Dimmingsun, Sedgepounce stares out out the expanse of camp from the nursery's maw. It's another day of nothing interesting. Warriors gathering patrols, apprentices fixing nests, Scorchstar marching toward the nursery...that one's different, actually. Eyes wide, Sedgepounce head swivels as Scorchstar storms right past him, stopping ominously just within the den's entrance. What happened? Sedge's over-active mind can only launch off a few anxious thoughts before he gets his answer. At the leader's sharp demand, he can only think: Finally.

It took too long to get to this point. Either DuskClan would attack, or Thriftfeather would try to escape, or they'd all elect to kill him, or...this. Something had to come to fruition. His constant purgatory trapped in the nursery was not just a strain on WindClan's recourses, but also on Sedgepounce's thinning psyche. Thriftfeather's a bad omen, a tragedy waiting to happen—the longer he languishes, the more time that blackened miasma of bad luck has to idle, dulling their claws until everyone's truly unprepared for the other shoe to drop.

Sedgepounce blinks from the den's maw. Thriftfeather looks happy at the news. Of course he does. This is what he wants, apparently.

Taking this as his official leave, Sedgepounce picks himself up, stretching away the knots along his spine. He'll go find a tree to sharpen his claws on.
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[BLUEFROST]

Bluefrost's ears flick as a shadow comes to darken the entrance to the nursery. Scorchstar's scarlet-branded pelt fills her vision, and the queen rises to her paws immediately, knocking whichever kitten had been draped across her into their shared nest. The WindClan leader does not address her — instead, she calls for Thriftfeather, and that fills Bluefrost with foreboding. Has she reached some sort of conclusion about his judgment?

She tenses beside him, trying to battle the fear fluttering in her belly. But it's for naught. Scorchstar tells him he and his family have cost WindClan enough resources, that he will be earning his keep and helping to feed the Clan. Bluefrost can feel the revulsion radiating from the tortoiseshell, especially as her amber gaze lingers on Bluefrost... the queen's chin tilts stubbornly, her green gaze sharp. She belongs here; her mother had carved this Clan from empty moorland, and she had been born beneath its bluest skies.

Her children have every right to be here, too, by proxy. Bluefrost lets her gaze linger on Scorchstar before flicking it toward Thriftfeather. She knows this freedom is something he has been craving — and, unbeknownst to him, she had begged Scorchstar for it. She knows he craves the wind in his fur, the moor under his paws, to feel useful again, to feel trusted. She offers him a smile. "Does that mean you will be leaving us for the warriors' nests outside?" That is a little sad to her, admittedly, but it is the rightful order of things... but the kits won't readily understand it.

Outside, Sedgepounce stretches and slips away. His tenure as nursery guard is over. Bluefrost's ears twitch at the sight. Does that mean Scorchstar has seen she is no threat to WindClan, either?

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Brackenpaw.
  — windclan queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — mated to Thriftfeather.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

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[PINKSHINE]

Pinkshine hasn't really known what to think about Thriftfeather... She knows him has a traitor. But she knows him as the mate of her friend, too. She's not sure how those two pieces are meant to fit together... She doesn't think Sunstar knew either, with the solution he'd came up with. Less of a solution, more of a time-out, maybe... Scorchstar is left to put them together now. Pinkshine lifts her head, more than a little curious.

Pinkshine wonders if Scorchstar realized— with this, she was making him WindClan? No... of course she realized. Scorchstar was one of the smartest cats she knew. Was Thriftfeather glad? Pinkshine figures she's allowed to care if he was, now. Bluefrost smiles at him, and she's glad to see her smile, at least.

Sedgepounce leaves his post at the nursery's entrace. And surely, he knew what he was doing too. Pinkshine watches him as he wanders past... She thinks, she can do something for them too. She can do something for all of them. Pinkshine steps forward, her smile small. " Maybe... maybe I can go with him first? " to Scorchstar, she's offers. She looks to Bluefrost then. To Thriftfeather. " With you? Um, if you wanna go now, that is." Her gaze is hopeful. She'd like to know him better, finally, she decides.​