bang bang ˗ˏˋ snuggling ´ˎ˗

AMBERTAIL

˗ˏˋ ON THE RISE ´ˎ˗
Feb 11, 2023
24
6
3
In some ways, Ambertail is a lucky soul. Maybe it is his place here, beneath the stars, or beneath a leader so accepting of his strangeness. Perhaps he is blessed by StarClan. Or, perhaps, he is just glad to find a job so suited to his condition. The sun is beginning to set by the time the tunneler's patrol returns to the surface. While those around him flinch from the remaining daylight, muttering noises from between their teeth and tongues, or the prey that they carry back. It is not enough today– it never really is, but it is better than they have found aboveground. Most goes to the pile. One to the nursery. Ambertail, his maw empty, walks the familiar path back to camp by rote. Others are settling down, and so does he. Not quite at his nest, he seeks out the shuffling noises of those sharing tongues and plops down himself.

Without any pause or plea, the tiny tunneler begins to burrow himself into the crowd, worming past larger moor runners towards the center of the mass. He doesn't make it all the way there, but close enough that he sighs in contentment. The group is gossiping about something or another, probably the new kittypets that have been allowed to their camp. He doesn't bother with it. Too tired for that.
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  • ooc:
  • ──── ambertail. tunneler of windclan. nb, he or they.
    ──── adult, though precise age unlabeled as of now.
    ──── sexuality unknown. a strange windclan cryptid.

    ──── a tiny, yet proportionally long-limbed tortoiseshell with unfocused amber eyes. though they retain their color, ambertail is blind. those who don't know as much may be confused, and will certainly be met with dry responses from the tunneler himself.
  • "speech"
 
Weaselclaw is feeling social today; his flank is pressed against another warrior's as he listens peacefully to Clan gossip. Dusk is falling across the moor, and with it comes the cold that only the darkness can bring in leafbare, but he's in the center of the Clan's pile of bodies, as befits his position as lead warrior. The warmth of his Clanmates blocks the worst of the winds; sleepy, he's content to listen to chatter rather than partake.

He's jostled awake by some rude cat squeezing his way through to the center where Weaselclaw is. The tabby looks indignantly, nostrils flaring at the dank scent of tunnel dirt, but then he relaxes. Ambertail has no idea he's being rude, probably. Strange, not to mention blind, with his remaining senses clogged with the scent of earth all day every day.

Weaselclaw holds his tongue, except to say, "Tunnelers have better luck than us today?" It's a sore point for him and the other moor runners, admittedly, but he's grateful WindClan is being fed at all.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
DONT EVER WANT TO SEE THINGS CHANGE
periwinklepaw | 06 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff
There is very little that peri finds joy in these days, but one that has never changed is the feeling of lying side by side surrounded by clanmates and sharing warmth. Such times have only become more necessary as the leaf-are months progress with bitter cold winds and weather, and while at night he can slip into the comfortable saftey of the sheltered medicine den the same cannot be said of his daytime hours. Instead the boy has settled himself down beside the first cat that will allow his presence, exhaustion weighing heavily upon him from lack of sleep and a hard days work of training, basking in the warmth and letting the idle chatter go in one ear and out the other.

Clear gaze opens ever so slowly as another body shuffles over, squirming their way into the throng - though Ambertail cannot see it, he offers a polite and warm smile (he's never been good at dealing with the sightless, never knows what to do or how to act) and shuffles over just a bit to make room. Here in the cuddle pile, he cares not who believes in what or who agrees with who, he is content to simply bask in the sanctity of being a clan.

 

"AND I'M NOT YOUR PROTAGONIST"

The gray she-cat doesn’t have to look twice to decide she is gonna join in. A grin grows over her maw. Practically skipping over before trying to plop down on the cats currently laying down. “Cuddles!” Stormgaze was not a heavy cat. She was lanky and could easily lay over multiple cats when stretched out. Acting as a blanket for some of her clanmates. Fully expecting for some of them to kick her off. But maybe some would welcome the warmth that Stormgaze brought. Giggling to herself as she awaits their reaction.
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