camp and eyes bright, uptight || night guards

[oakrumble]

ᯓ⚘ It's not unusual for the fiery molly to be active during the quietest time of night, pacing to and fro. Oakrumble requests to be the night guard as often as she can as its better to occupy her mind during the countless sleepless nights, focusing on the smallest crack of a twig or a rustle just outside of the fern barrier surrounding camp. It's a good way to occupy her mind, focusing her attention onto a more productive task. She'd swiftly accepted when tonight's shift had been offered to her. Oakrumble always arrives early to her post, settling besides the bramble entrance until the clan has settled into their nests, and it is only then that she begins her well practiced surveillance of camp, all senses poised. Throughout the night she'd wander about, checking the fern barrier for any weak points or poking her stout head into the dens to make sure all is well or quickly stopping to chat with the odd late sleeper or early riser. Chickbloom had never been her partner before but she'd been quite pleased to see the skittish tom, she knew he's the kind to follow what she asks him to do and also lend an ear, perhaps unwillingly-- Oakrumble isn't the kind to know unless outright told--, to her ramblings.

It's perhaps an hour after midnight when Oakrumble settles down besides the entrance, tail lashing in the sand restlessly. She's surprised to hear a rustling from within camp and pulls her attention away from Chickbloom to see what caused it. Orangestar, leaving her den beneath the elderberry tree... Oakrumble's head tilts to the side when Orangestar swiftly moves to the fresh-kill pile, grabbing a vole. Late night snack? Well... surely she'll share it with Slate... would be a rather poor look to be so greedy.... Frankly Oakrumble wasn't the kind to snitch, and who was there to snitch to about her behavior, besides? She quickly changes her demeanor, posture straightening and chest puffing out, when Orangestar begins to pad directly towards Oakrumble and Chickbloom with a rather resolute expression on her orange and white face.

They're notified she's going to the Moonstone... alone, unless her company had powers bestowed upon them by Starclan, that power being invisibility. Odd. Oakrumble did not have the authority to question Orangestar directly. This fact doesn't stop Oakrumble from raising a brow in a mixture of concern and curiosity, maw opening and then shutting quickly as she decides against pushing Orangestar to divulge what could be so important to leave so hastily. Oakrumble was sure she'd keep a secret and was positive Chickbloom could, too, seeing as she doesn't hear him speak often anyways; but, she decides against it, wishing to stay in her leader's good graces. Only a nod would do and Orangestar is off.

Oakrumble waits until she can be sure Orangestar is not in hearing distance of camp before leaning towards Chickbloom and prodding him in the shoulder with a rotund paw. "W'dya think that is about? Any theories? C'mon Chickbloom, humor me."

ᯓ⚘ ‘cause i could lose it all

• ooc– @Chickbloom
  
• OAKRUMBLE —— skyclan warrior, she/her or they/them, 56 moons
  
  

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[Chickbloom]

While Chickbloom enjoyed being awake at night, guarding at night was a slightly different story. Simply existing in camp brought with it the peace of protection, nestled within gorse walls like a baby in a swaddle. Guarding, though, meant he had to be on the lookout. It implied danger, the threat of invaders with him and Oakrumble being the first (and last) line of defense.

An anxious mind had gone into overdrive, unintentionally ignoring Oakrumble in the process. What if they were attacked? What if whoever got to Silversmoke got to them? Yolk-splashed paws were overwhelmed with the desire to go sprinting back to the warriors den, but instead flexing (and rarely-seen) claws kept him rooted in place. If Silversmoke’s assailants appeared, he would fight.

Thankfully before the boy’s imagination could get too exciting, a different type of terror brought him back to earth. Chickbloom noticed Orangestar a half-moment too late, straightening up and sheathing claws in an effort to he presentable. Thankfully, she didn’t seem too interested in his posture. Passing out of camp with barely a glance and a word, it was hard for a cowardly gaze not to follow until she was out of sight.

“Uh, I - I don’t know” The warrior stammered out, a bit shocked at not returning to pure silence. What was Orangestar doing? Didn’t leaders only go to the moonstone to talk with Starclan? “M-Maybe something bad happened - o-or is going to happen, and she needs g-guidance…” Guidance from Starclan, or someone else? An overactive imagination went towards something not so much more productive, but at least healthier for his mental state: gossip. “Or m-maybe she has a secret lover, and they’re - y’know - meeting at the moonstone? W-What do you think?”​

 

[SLATESNARL]

It isn't until Orangestar makes for the camp exit that the Maine Coon emerges from the shadows of the leader's den, amber eyes dimmed with a quiet worry. They watched wordlessly as the ginger and white molly slipped out, as if he was bidding a final farewell. Orangestar has made this journey before, and while Slate knows that she is capable of fending for herself, it is the thought of her running into foxes and rogues that nags the back of his mind incessantly.

Even from a distance away, Slate radiated anxiety. His tail tip twitched in agitation, his muscles tensed as if he were readying to run after his leader and try and convince her to stay behind... again. However, with a stubbornness that rivaled his own, Slate knew that there would be no changing her mind. All the lead warrior could do was plead with the warrior ancestors to guide Orangestar to and from Highstones safely. If anything happened to her then there would be hell to pay.

There are a few murmurings among the night owls of the camp, including the camp guards. They presumably wonder aloud what Orangestar's mission entails ( thankfully, Slate doesn't overhear Chickbloom's last remarks ) but the Maine Coon says nothing. Frowning, he turns around and slips back into the leader's den to crawl into his nest and let his mind race until the sun rises.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 ✹ .　 + 　˚ 　　 · 　 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

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• 

  a lead warrior of skyclan, slate is forty-one moons and is mentoring coffeepaw. he is a hulking longhaired maine coon with black fur and prominent reddish rusting on his chest and belly. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face. ✦

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[oakrumble]

ᯓ⚘ "Mhm. For guidance, but surely it is unusual to leave so late." Oakrumble keeps her harsh voice to a whisper, intending only for Chickbloom to hear her words, she does not wish to spread rumors to be overheard by any alert ears. She notices Slate had crawled out from beneath the elderberry bush, to observe their leader's departure and her eyes slit as she reads the black tom's body language, an image of agitation... So maybe Slate had not even been given proper notice of Orangestar's plans. Eyebrows knit as a narrative begins to unfurl within Oakrumble's mind as she begins to consider what could call for such a hasty expedition. The she-cat is pulled from her mind when Chickbloom speaks up again.

Oakrumble would like Chickbloom to be less reserved and open up to her, to know without her explicitly saying it that she can be his confidan, but she cannot help but grimace at his suggestion of Orangestar having a forbidden lover of some sort. She blinks rapidly and bites her tongue, to give Chickbloom a verbal lashing may damage the tom more. Oakrumble knows it would be counterproductive in her attempt to befriend him. She'll approach this with the most grace she can muster. With a soft snicker she murmurs, "I doubt Orangestar has a lover--" She glances towards the tom across the clearing and watches as he slinks back into the shadows of the den. "--outside of the clan." For some time, Oakrumble has had her suspicions about Slate and Orangestar. There's just not enough proof... for a definitive conclusion.

"Chickbloom. If you ever need to speak to somebody, I'm around." Oakrumble murmurs this, her voice sounding crisp as she attempts to soften her harsh tone of voice. With a loud exhale and heaves to her broad paws and begins to pad away, intending to make her rounds through the camp. She wishes the best for the yolk-splashed tom, but it is beyond her control.

ᯓ⚘ ‘cause i could lose it all

• ooc–
  
• OAKRUMBLE —— skyclan warrior, she/her or they/them, 56 moons
  
  

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