camp AND THE FOREST LISTENED // storytelling, almost no angst

[MORNINGBIRD]

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Today had been a very good day for Skyclan and the cats who resided within. The day itself had been warm, one of the last amicable leaf fall days before leaf bare settled in not even a moon from now. Border patrols came back with very little to report, a bit laden with prey, and then the hunting patrols returned as well, with as much fresh kill as cats had been sent out at the very least. So as the clan settled down to eat, the sun settling down into the horizon, the atmosphere became one of laughter and merriment. The camp becoming as warm as a twoleg hearth, and as the laughter reached a lull, a voice called out above the cacophany.

"Alright! Alright! Gather around youngsters!" Burr gestured the clan forward, getting a few raised eyebrows from some of his denmates that only got a rolling chuckle from the elder tom. "Yes even you, ya codgers, I've got a whole three seasons on at least one of ya!" One of the elders breaks out into a snort before they start making their way over, a tom grumbling about how he is 'definitely not a codger' to the lighthearted protests of the rest of them. Burr smiles a bit wider at that, making sure the clan is all gathered before he heaves himself up onto the tree stump in camp, sitting back on his haunches as his paws punctuate his words with a dramatic fervor. "Allow me to tell you a tale that my mother told me, and her mother before her, all the way back to when the loners during the great clans of old told it as hushed whispers. Allow me to tell you a tale of two sisters, their alliance, their strength, and their fall."

"This is the tale, of Sun's Trail and Moon's Whisper."

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header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie, Burr art by @/lokisaurus​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

By the time he had brought his parents' meal over to them, the pile had dwindled down, leaving only the bits that no one wanted or the runt mice. It was not a scenario he was unused to, however... less to eat meant less mess made, at the very least. The bright side often hid itself from him, though he just as often sought it out- but oh, if the world did not like to thrust cruelty upon him! Reprieve, distraction from his frustrations- that's what he needed. Jovial tone ringing out about the bustle, it seemed Burr had the answer to his unspoken, barely-begotten prayer.

Wide eyes, amber flecked, found the voice's owner. One beginning to illustrate the contents of a tale, whispered words hung upon by all who listened. Tranced, Twitchpaw began his forward walk, sticking to the back of the crowd- his olivine gaze stayed moon-round, and settled with a solitary flicker of the eyelid upon the storyteller. Something, a shrinking squeak in his throat, prevented him from calling out support- but vague rapture illustrated the lines of his expression. He never could deny the appeal of a good story.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[ThistleBack]

Youngsters, it’s what the red elder calls for but given the man’s age, that category summons the whole camp- maybe even a few ancient trees. Thistleback is chewing on a shard of bone, slobbery maw hooked and clattering noisily with the assault. He ate at strange times, so when dinner was normally had- he would busy himself with a habit he’s had since a kit.

grey optics blink up lazily to Burr, A tale of two sisters, he sows his words to the gathering cats. Thistleback loves stories, he was a man who weaved webs of his own but more than anything, it reminded him of his childhood. Though ridden with darkness, the only good thing that came from that alley of strays, was the old molly with the night stories. When a starving belly fed only stories to live vicariously, one develops a taste.

Lifting on his hocks, he trots closer to the gathered with the bone hanging from his jaws. Nicked ears flicked forth and ready to listen. He opts to sit next to Twitchpaw, decisions made of subconscious value but never without just the least bit of intention. The rattle-limbed apprentice always had a mild grasp on the daylight warrior’s sympathies, a complex wonder if the kid felt alone despite being surrounded. He glances to the kid with a hard frown, but offers a smirk and nod in greeting.

" let’s hear it en’ old timah " he lets his accent loosen at his lips, like the old cockney his mother spoke.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Thistleback | thirty-two moons | cis-male
  — daylight warrior of Skyclan
  — bisexual | fallen for Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring Coyotepaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes. Wears a purple collar with brass clasp.
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

Fireflykit was quick to peek his head out of the nursery at the call of gramps offering a story; the old man was never one to be a bore, after all. Fireflykit stands up, a paw sticking out to gently kick his sisters awake from their mid-day 'beauty rest' naps. Burnkit was in Dawnglare's den after his accident, so he wouldn't mess with him for now. "Gramps is telling a story! C'mon!" He whisper-yells out to them, before dashing away to the orange and white tom. His eyes squinted against the light, he looks almost too excited to hear about the story he has to tell. He had even mentioned sisters! Perhaps his own baby sisters would enjoy it.

@MORNINGKIT @CRESCENTKIT @Howlkit​

 

[Howlfire]

A glare was directed towards her brother when he burst into the nursery and gently kicked Howlkit and her sisters awake. "Gramps?" Howlkit murmured with sleep-addled confusion. What was he on about, they didn't even have a grandfather! At least not a living one...that they knew of. Depite the annoyance of being so suddenly woke up, Howlkit wouldn't pass up a good story. She had a certain fondness for listening to such fantastical tales and elders were best for getting stories out of when they were in a good mood.

The chocolate torbie emerges from the nursery not long after her brother, coming to sit beside him and listen intently to Burr's story.​

 

[MORNINGBIRD]

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As he hears the cats of the clan gather, first little Twitchpaw and the spindly, wolf-like tom Thistleback, continuing to the pitter patter of four sets of little kit feet, as his own grandchildren call Blazestar's kits to sit with them, Burr feels a sense of contentment he has not been able to feel since before he showed up on Skyclan's border. For a moment, he is not sat atop a tree stump, swaths of cats of every color surrounding him, he is atop a smooth stone in a cave, shades of gold and red and grey clustered together as they call out for their favorite tales. It nearly makes his voice grow watery.

"Back before the great clans of old truly began, two sisters were born to loving parents, Life's Mother, and Cloud's Respite. Life's Mother saw to the land, the dirt beneath your paws, trees that we climb and the herbs that our most faithful medicine cat is allowed to use to heal us all, but also every living creature who dwells on and in her embrace. Cloud's Respite saw to everything physically above her, the clouds of course, but also the wind, the birds and even the path to the stars, we now call him Silverpelt, the one who harbors Starclan." There is a respect in his tone as he taps his tail on the stump below him, before reaching up with a paw to gesture to the sky as twinkling stars began to wake in the slow absence of the sun's light. At the mention of Dawnglare, he points out the tom in the crowd with a grateful nod, before drawing back into the past he was slowly weaving. "Sun's Trail was named for the golden stripes along her back, which glistened with the shine of the setting and rising of the sun she would later command. Moon's Whisper was a near complete opposite, her fur a pale, sparkling silver on one side, and a warm, inviting shadow on the other. You'll recognize each side as the moon waxes and wanes."

As the story goes on, it seems as though the elder was crafted by the world simply for this, to be a weaver of tales, a teller of stories and a keeper of memories. When he tells of how the sisters were given charge over the passing of time through the sun and the moon, you can feel the excitement and pride of the young mollies as they learn to grasp their new titles, chasing one another through their father's sky. The forest is alight with the quiet chuckling of an arrogant and scheming tom named Eclipse when Burr lulls his voice to an anticipated whisper to tell of his plan to stop time entirely. "He said to himself 'I will make the sun and the moon forever cross with one another, so winter will never come, and I will never grow old!' And so he went, sowing the seeds of discord among the cats who would become the great old clans through rumors that each sister apparently said about the other."​

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header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[BEARPAW]

"NOBODY TEACHES YOU TO WALK WITH OPEN HANDS"​

Adjusting to Skyclan has been strange, but certainly not in a bad way. It's odd to be suddenly surrounded by so many others, and still a bit startling at times that most everyone is friendly or at least pleasantly neutral to her, and granted Bear hasn't really figured out her place in the group, but it's all nice nonetheless. She hasn't yet worked up the courage to ask anyone directly what she should be doing, instead trying to follow along after others and figure out what to do until she's appointed a mentor, at which point Bear can only hope they'll have actual tasks for her. She's sitting off near a corner of camp, simply enjoying watching the bustle of cats moving about, when she hears a call to gather. Glancing around, she watches as others begin to filter over and she follows suit, hopping to her paws and shuffling a little closer so that she can more easily hear. Bear isn't one to deny a good story, though when she hears it's a story of two sisters, she feels an ache within her chest for a moment. If only her sister were here, and the rest of her family, too, though she knows it's a hopeless wish. Shaking out her pelt, Bear plops down around the outskirts of the group, trying to put her mind off her family and instead on Burr as he begins to weave his tale.

It's quite transfixing, really, and as he goes on she can feel herself getting more and more drawn into the story. She's never heard anything quite like it - her mother was never really one for entertaining them, and if she ran into any other loners she was lucky if they were willing to speak with her at all. There's some magical quality to the old tom's words, and every now and then Bear finds herself glancing up to the sky, as if she'll catch a glimpse of two sisters dancing around one another up there. As the story begins to take a turn, she can feel herself leaning forward ever so slightly, and as Burr speaks of Eclipse's misdeeds, she feels on edge, as if this Eclipse is going to show up among them right now and whisper lies. She finds herself desperately willing Sun's Trail and Moon's Whisper not to believe the things they hear, as if her own thoughts might have any sort of impact on the outcome of the story.​

✦ ★ ✦​