beneath the brine ✘ cleanup patrol

[SMOKESTAR]

"Stars above, it's a mess..." It was his first time seeing their camp again since the floodwaters overtook it and Lakemoon had not been wrong when she reported how trashed the place was. The apprentice's den was still in shambles and he frowned at it as he padded past, remembering the panic of having had to dig out the apprentices before it collapsed over them and drowned them all. The dark tom lashed a tail, poking his head through the reeds to find that Beesong's medicine cat den was in complete disarray but at least it was still in one piece; the thick clustering of tall grass and river reeds had done their job to protect it for the most part but the warrior's den was not so lucky. It was going to take some time to get everything structurally sound again but right now their focus was to clean up and prepare for the clan's return to rebuild what was needed. If time allowed before it got dark, they could gather material in advance to store in the leader's den as the great willow had managed to keep it mostly above the water and free of debris. It was nice seeing it again, his dark head leaning in to inspect and surprisingly enough his and Cicadastar's nest was still intact if not made of stale moss and wilted bracken. A quick check to the matted mess with a paw revealed the few trinkets still buried beneath it and he smiled thoughtfully before turning around to exit the den once more and rejoin the rest of his patrol.
"Guess we should get started. If we start at the center of the camp we can push most of this junk to the outside edges to be cleared out easier...thoughts?"

---

[Ooc]
Patrol Tags - @hyacinthbreath & @QUIETSTREAM.
Apprentice Tags - @iciclepaw & @GILLPAW
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[GILLSIGHT]

Gillpaw doesn't think he fully realized how strange it would be to come back here.

The black and white tom is bigger than he was the last time he'd stepped foot here. Perhaps not by much, but enough time had passed for him to grow, for his apprenticeship to near its end. But, it's noticeable, how much he's changed, how much RiverClan has changed.

The last time he was here, his mentor had to pull him out of the rubble of the apprentice den. Gillpaw almost died, the last time he was here - almost drowned beneath the collapse of the den that once was a source of safety to him.

This time, Clearsight isn't beside him. His mentor isn't here to save him from any potential danger. However, the moor-dweller whose actions were a cause of his mentor's loss stands nearby instead. Clearsight will never get to see this place again, but, for some reason, Hyacinthbreath gets to.

This place used to carry happy memories, and now, in its disheveled form, it's only haunted - a reminder of everything RiverClan lost.

A sullen gaze drifts to the ruins of the apprentice den as Smokethroat speaks, ears only half-listening to the plan the lead warrior gives out. He can feel the tightening of his lungs just by looking at it - can remember the chill of his fur, the burning in his chest. They'll have to clean that up too.

Will collections still lay intact, in there? Will Gillpaw at least get to return with good news for his fellow apprentices? Something bright, something to celebrate, to cover up for the fact that the black and white tom doesn't know if he could ever sleep in there again - if RiverClan returns before he's named a warrior.

"A-Are we s-sure there's no f-floodwater left...?" Gillpaw asks, gaze still locked on the rubble. Deep breaths, he reminds himself, as he manages to pull his line of sight away to look at Smokethroat for an answer.

​

 

[hyacinthbreath]

"Lakemoon said it was fine, so I believe her." Hyacinthbreath replies to the apprentice's worries, though she knows it won't be taken so kindly. She should have just kept her mouth shut, but instead she takes a few steps into the camp and gazes at the destruction. It had been her first time seeing their real camp, when they had rediscovered it. Her nose sniffs along some debris, before her teeth latch on and tiny body began to drag it away as ordered.

She wants so dearly to be with Pollenfur in these moments, curled up into her fluffy body- away from the prying stares, the glares that burn into her back. Hyacinthbreath wavers in that moment, kicking the debris away from the warrior's den to peer over at it. She worries at the inside of her cheek, jagged scars aching at the movement. When would they get peace?​

❝ there are wounds inside me, gaping holes of disconnect.
can you drown inside your own body? can you suffocate within this mind? ❞

 

[iciclefang]

Iciclepaw steps beside Smokethroat, and she releases a trapped breath at the sight of their home. She had anticipated wreckage, but seeing the collapsed den, the overgrown weeds sprouting throughout their camp -- it makes it a bit more real than it had been, she supposes. The tortoiseshell catches Gillpaw looking at the apprentice's den with shell-shocked yellow eyes. She has to stop herself from shuddering with revulsion at the memory. Water up her nose, her lungs burning, unable to see or breathe or call for help.

But she does not shudder, and she pads up to Gillpaw with a neutral expression disguising her own bad feelings. "If there was, we'd know by now," she points out mildly. "It's clearly safe."

She flicks an ear at Hyacinthbreath's comment. Lakemoon had been here with her own patrol and deemed it safe for return. It was up to them now to get the camp in livable condition.

"Right," she mutters at Smokethroat's suggestion. She grips a half-formed clump of bracken between her teeth, dragging it to the exterior of the camp.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[QUIETSTREAM.]

CO-COMPARSION IS SLOWLY KILLING ME, I THINK I THINK TOO MUCH​

---

yeah, right. nothing was safe here. not anymore. not any longer. their home barely feels like a home– constantly raided and taken from them. the stars seem to have a vendetta, and they can't catch a break. quietstream's gaze slowly moves back and forth, trying to figure out where to start. smokethroat says something but she doesn't hear what her father's mate says. her nub of a tail twitched nervously behind her before she just squeezed her eyes closed. they take in a shaky breath, almost instinctively looking for their best friend who isn't anywhere in sight. right. he wasn't on this patrol. with a silent wince, the felidae grabbed some debris within their jaws, grunting as they pulled it to the outskirts of the camp.
​