camp Bittersweet Song | Intro

[CASERDILLA]

Wintry temperatures still shrouded the forest, coating brambles and ferns in a frosted layer of ice that weighed down heavy on thin branches. Snow piled the clearing of the hollow, it's usual white purity now stained with soil that mixed in and turned to a mushy light brown. The brush was trampled that usually confined the clearing, blood splatters even which way from the raid that WindClan attempted on their camp.
He had been trapped within the walls of his other home, his Two-Leg refusing to let him outside no matter how much he screamed at her. Ugh, why couldn't they speak his language? I mean, wss it really all that hard? He was able to pick up a few words from her. Like, food and outside. But, it didn't sound like how he'd say it, he only really got the gist of what she was saying. Finally he had a moment to slip out, retreating out into the garden and over the barrier that separated his home from the pine forest.
Besides, she had been paying less attention to him anyways. She had some new male Two-Leg that would come over, or they'd leave into the night for hours on end. Ferretwhisker didn't particularly like him. He'd try to place his giant paws on the pointed tom at one point, but was earned with a swift swat of a paw with unsheathed claws. Ever since then, the Two-Leg had kept his distance, but always tried to call him over. In your dreams, he would say and happily turn tail away from him.
Being out in the freezing snow now was enough to make him partially retreat towards the warmth of his home. At least there he wouldn't be in such...mess. The limber tom huffed a sigh, snatching another piece of bramble while weaving it into frozen ferns to reinforce the walls. Thin, tendril-like claws would weave in and out easily; luckily, Ferretwhisker was blessed with smaller paws than other cats. He wasn't a very large feline to begin with. Long, limber limbs sporting dark chocolate socks with a matching mask and tail, short and sleek cream fur, prominent ears and an angular head. He was naturally thin compared to his other clan mates, but lean muscle was hidden beneath his glossy pelt—no doubt a fine athlete for climbing and jumping.
Dark sapphire eyes would narrow in concentration as he continued his work by the warrior's den, until a damn thorn wedged itself into a soft paw pad. "Son of a—!" He hissed in pain, jerking his forelimbs back as if he had a scalding burn. "Ughhhhh—these damned brambles! May the God's smite those who decided to breed these incessant plants!" The tom would spit, grabbing at the embedded thorn between large incisors and ripping it out on one swift motion. Crimson colored blood soon pooled around his dark pads, droplets falling onto snow. Ferretwhisker began to clean his puncture immediately, attempting not to visibly gag at the coppery taste of his own blood.

TLDR; Ferretwhisker is trying reinforce the dens but keeps getting thorns stuck in his paw pads lololol serves him right
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[ PENNED BY CASER ]​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Wide paws carried Silversmoke toward the entrance of the camp, remnants of sleep crusting at the corner of his eyes as the wicked winter air stung them. He'd been content to mind his own business and practice his own chores for the day, remembering he'd promised his vexing apprentice another spar outside the camp. Chrys was still recovering from the raid, and the spotted feline didn't want to push him too hard, but the world didn't stop moving just because SkyClanners did - there was still plenty to learn whilst taking it easy. He was one step past the barrier when all of the blue feline's plants came crumbling down. His head shot up, thin pupils landing immediately on Ferretwhisker as a hiss pierced SkyClan's air. Blue-green eyes twitched at the complaints, a frown settling upon his muzzle as the complaints logged towards the wall hit his ears. 'Entitled little...' Silversmoke breathed in deeply, the chilly air hitting the back of his throat. It was a reminder not to completely erupt on the kittypet, pain seldom made others say reasonable things, but it didn't stop the tabby from approaching with a chip on his shoulder. He glared at the bloodied thorn and then at Ferret, tail lashing. "Not everyone has the luxury of two-leg walls. If you don't like plants, don't go to a place full of them."

Don't go to SkyClan. It was easy enough to think that. Half of the daylight warriors had been stranded at home when the snow piled up, the odd-smelling tom included. Silversmoke could swallow down his own hatred, and stop it from making him turn traitor on his home, but he could not stomach how unreliable the daylight warriors were. If they couldn't even reinforce a wall without scourging the very forest that provided them with it... Silver felt little hope of it improving. Huffing, the large feline's whiskers twitched as he turned to the wall. "Do you need help?" He had plenty of things that needed doing, including the hunting patrol, but he figured that if he didn't step in, Ferretwhisker would just struggle more.








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[Oaktuft]

"I'm gonna bury you in the ground"​

The weather had been stiff, unmoving as it continued to lay down layer after layer of snow. The clouds never seemed to budge from the ever darkening sky and freezing rain pelted downwards at every chance one gets. Prey had become harder to find and many of the daylight warriors' had been trapped in camp due to the storm. Oaktuft didn't have much of an issue with that of the daylight warriors' but Silversmoke had a point, as he spoke up outside the warriors' den. An odd-smelling cat had been working on the warriors' den walls and seemed rather frustrated with the frost-covered barbs.

Oaktuft couldn't help the little chuckle that left his muzzle as he shifted in his spot on the ground beside the den. He watched them out of the corner of his eye in amusement, "Help might be a good idea," The brown tabby tom agreed with that of Silversmoke and waved his feathery tail back and forth.

speech ​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[CASERDILLA]

Too busy tending to his wounded paw to notice his little accident happened to fall upon the head of a passing warrior; his large ears twitched at their sudden appearance, narrowed eyes landing on Silversmoke. His tone was harsh and sharp, as if metaphorical thorns stabbed at his ears from the scolding. Ferretwhisker dropped his bleeding paw, pressing the wound against the snow laiden earth as he stood up straight. His eyes hardened like ice pools, brows furrowing in annoyance at how rude Silversmoke was being despite his own arrogant whining beforehand.
"And not everyone has the pads as rough as hard edged stone. Almost as hard as your boulder for a head." The pointed tom retorts almost immediately. "I go wherever I please." He adds flatly, jerking his angular head back towards the brambles. He snatches up tendrils in an abrasive manner, his mind forgetting the puncture that stained the snow a bright shade if crimson where he stood a second ago.
Another thorn grazed past the wound, sending currents of pain down the Daylight Warrior's fore leg. "DAMMIT!" He hissed, rage bubbling beneath his words as he takes another look at his bloodied paw. This time there was no thorn, just the stinging sensation of where the previous one had been there before. His eyes flash back towards the silver-hued tom again, asking if he needs assistance. We'll, of course he does! Can he not see Ferretwhisker was clearly having issues? But, pride would keep his mouth snapped shut. Only pursed lips would be the slender tom's answer, his pupils constricting into slits.
Ferretwhisker's ears flick to Oaktuft, a chuckle echoing in the clearing as he laughed at his struggle. His hardened gaze shot to the other warrior, blue hellfire blazing within their depths. "And just what are you doing, ya disheveled pile of fur?" His tail twitching back and forth with impatience. The nerve of these dung-eaters. Someone ought to dip them in the river and hung out to dry. A silhouette of a smile placed upon his maw, sickeningly sweet with malice as the picture played in his mind of the two. He, once again, begins to get distracted at his own pleasure that another thorn grazed his paw again. This time, tearing a slight gash into his soft pads. "SHIT—FINE! PLEASE HELP ME!" The pointed tom snarled, finally giving in to his own karma and setting his pride behind him. He rasps his salmon tongue over his fresh wounds repeatedly, feebly attempting to stop the bleeding. Ferretwhisker usually loved being out in the pines, hunting or exploring, but reinforcing dens was definitely not one his many talents. His mumbles curses under his breath as his cheeks flush in embarrassment, something about wishing the Gods would strike him down in a miraculous lightning strike.

//IC OPINIONS HE IS A GRUMP JUST IGNORE HIM
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[ PENNED BY CASER ]​

 

[subarupaw]

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .​

He skitters over at the sound of a snarl, eyes blown wide as he peaks out from behind Silversmoke. His ears are pinned back before he blinks, realizing its just Ferretwhisker. But whys he so mad? "I think we should leave you there!" a childish huff leaves the kids mouth, a frown growing across his face. Pointedly, he decides to ignore Silvers comment about how not everyone had two-leg walls. Well, he thinks they should! He likes his twolegs and he thinks the collar that sits on his neck (a little, i mean a bit too big for him) is funny.

"You say funny words, hehe... Shit, dammit!" he parrots before weaving between the two older warriors with a skip in his step. He doesn't know where to begin helping, but the least he could do is try! Yup! Subaru peers over but Ferret is moving his paw way too much for Subie to actually see anything useful. "Stop moving! I can't see anything!" he whines, looking up to Ferret with a half-hearted frown. "Jus' go see Dawnglare or somethin." he speaks as if it were as simple as that. "He has the cure to like, everything known to cat!"​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Fireflyglow]

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

Almost as if his mentor's name summons him, Fireflypaw is quick to shove himself through bushes as he hears loud yelling, panicked ears swiveling wildly on his head. Though, when he hears Subarupaw speak, he relaxes. He doesn't smell blood, he just smells the loud, obnoxious toms he's known for a bit.. He sighs, seating himself down. Shut-eyed, Fireflypaw gives a wide smile to the stuck tom.

"Dawn's magic doesn't work like that!" He giggles softly, eyes cracking open just slightly to get a sight of a.. Much scrawnier, long-legged version of.. Himself? "Woah! We're twins!" He shouts, walking over to where the tom's face might be. As if waiting for the warriors to help the guy out, he continues his conversation anyways. "My name's Fireflypaw! Maybe if you go crashing through again, you could get out? Why didn't you use 'yer brain before you did somethin' like this?" Says you, Fi..​

 

[SLATE]

The incessant yowling and screaming were grating. Stars above; in Slate's short time here, he had never heard noises so genuinely irritating. He wanted to claw his ears off, and as someone who heard Silversmoke's jaws flap every single day, that was saying something.

So, after getting to his paws and circling around the camp, Slate found that the culprit was none other than a seal point cat who had cut his pad on a bramble thorn. That was what all the fuss was about? Puh, he had emerged from bloody fights with other strays with more dignity than this bellowing fool. A mixture of SkyClan and city scent cling to the lithe tom's pelt, which... explains everything, actually. That was no excuse for how disruptive he was being. "Must you yell every time you open your mouth?" The male snorts as he officially makes his presence known. It seemed that every other word spilled from the tom's mouth was an exclamation or profanity of sorts.

A brief glance is cast in Silversmoke's direction. They were the only other two adults present thus far, and he knew that the other short-tempered tom was thinking along similar lines as he was. They were both prejudiced towards kittypets, including daylight warriors for—unbeknownst to them—eerily similar reasons.

The apprentices, on the other hand, were more so poking fun at the daylight warrior and perhaps inadvertently calling him out for his foolishness. They were right; why hadn't he used his brain? "Does Dawnglare have a cure for being obnoxious?" Slate mutters under his breath in junction with Subarupaw's suggestion. Obviously not.

The burly longhaired tom took a moment to size up the seal point once more. It was pathetic, really; some daylight warriors could actually pass as fully-fledged wild forest cats, save for the lingering smell of twoleg. This one, however? It was painfully obvious how fussy he was over minor occurrences like getting a scratch. With all of this WindClan drama spiraling out of control, they were all bound to get more than just little scratches. Was he new to SkyClan? Not that Slate would know; he was new as well. "Yknow, you could just learn to suck it up and lick your own wounds. Might do you some good, considering how... delicate you seem."​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

• 
  
• 
  ✰ SLATE
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. twenty-nine moons old. warrior of skyclan; former rogue.
  —— unrefined, rough and tumble rogue who is not accustomed to clan life. only trustful of his littermate, duskmane.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  quite the hulk of a cat, slate stands above the average clanmate with an arrogant gait. he has a dark gray ( bordering on black ) colored pelt with a pale-brown-tinged underbelly and whisps of tan at the tips of his chest hairs. amber-colored eyes contrast against his dark palette. notable features include a jagged scar across his right eye and two small scratches across the bridge of his nose.
• —— decided to officially remain in skyclan as a warrior
  —— participated in battle with windclan, currently recovering from belly scratches and a bite mark on hind leg
  

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[CASERDILLA]

More voices echoed throughout his prominent ears, each one more annoying than the other. It seemed his complaining was attracting a crowd, like an audience flocking towards an entertainer. He didn't exactly mind the attention, but adoration instead of the constant criticisms would have been nice. But alas, even the greatest of Kings had naysayers. Their attempts to belittle his pride would fall upon deaf ears. Ferretwhisker held his paw close to his chest, sharp gaze darting to a rather—energetic apprentice that weaved between the pair of toms and snaked up behind him to see his paw. "Get lost." He'd snort, a voice full of bitterness as he kept his upturned paw out of Subarupaw's sight.
At the apprentice's suggestion to visit Dawnglare, Ferretwhisker merely shrugged as he continued to rasp his tongue over the puncture. Another younger tom approaches now, sporting similar markings as he did. His fur was longer, feathered and whispy at the ends. He was not naturally thin like Ferretwhisker, his growing muscles taut under his soft fur with more bulk than the Oriental. A hinge of envy passed through his sapphire eyes, but was gone in an instant. He did wish he had a more hulking body sometimes, always looking like he was half starved with a lean muscular frame. "Hm, it appears we are. Beauty recognizes beauty." A silhouette of a smile traces his shaded features, nodding towards the apprentice. Ah, yes. Fireflypaw. He remembers seeing him around camp. It was nice to put a name with the face. "Ferretwhisker. And I didn't crash—I was reinforcing the walls and kept getting stabbed by thorns. Had one stuck in my pad until I ripped it out. Shit hurts." The tom shows his stuck paw briefly before returning to clean it.
The bleeding was starting to clot up, it's steady trickle now slowing to a few drips. The seal point was about to open his mouth in response, perhaps an agreement, before Slate lumbered over with a stone-cold expression and sharp tongue. "Of course. I am my biggest hype man." He states cooly, hardly acknowledging the larger brute.
Ferretwhisker does; however, finally turn his angular head towards the burly warrior, icy eyes narrowing into slits as he stared at him for what he says next. Obnoxious, hm? Look who's talking. They both met each other with hard stares, each one sizing up and observing the other. "Like what you see, huh? I get that." He laughs then, hollowed, his too-big incisors revealing from pulled back lips. "I have no need to see anyone for this. Wasn't planning on it, meat-head." He adds, setting down his paw onto the ground before standing to his feet. The pointed warrior held his head and tail high, meeting Slate's gaze once more. Considering how...delicate you seem. That one—that one stung. Anger begins to bloom in his chest at that, his claws aching to tear out of their sheaths. I'll show you delicate, he wanted to say and then proceed to add onto another scar across the moggie tom's face in remembrance of him.
But of course, he decides it's better to keep his mouth locked away. He grits his teeth, the muscles clearly flexing under the taut skin on his face as he glares at Slate with a dark expression hardening his features. It wasn't the first time he'd been called a name like that. A name usually of pleasantries laced with venom. Delicate. Fragile. Weak. He'd heard it all—from his siblings, to his house cat neighbors. No matter how much he hears it—it still feels the same. Unworthy. Ferretwhisker would show them all just how delicate he could be. Not everything is what it seemed. He was as delicate as a poisonous flower. Metaphorical venom drenched through his incisors and claws, ready to strike down his enemies when need be. His whiskers twitched finally, his muscles moving under a skeletal frame.
The Daylight Warrior opens his mouth to finally speak, though silent rage held his tongue. Ferretwhisker was arrogant, but he was still intelligent. He knew better than to start a quarrel here. With a huff, Ferretwhisker turns back to his original post of reinforcing the walls, weaving in the bramble more carefully this time. "You can help me or don't. I really don't care." He finally states with a low tone.

//IC OPINIONS I LOVE YOU ALL SM AND YOUR CHARRIES<33
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[ PENNED BY CASER ]​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

If not for the damning heritage of the traipsing kittypet, perhaps he and Chrysalispaw would have gotten along. However, as grievous as the sin of genesis was, he could not look past it. Even if one could prove themselves, waltz through the cruel proceedings of the period, and come back abraded and a-bruised - it would mean nothing to him. If not for such an unforgivable yet uncontrollable transgression, Chrysalis would have admitted that he and Ferret had much in common. Both ones of lashing tongue, as if serpentine in motion in manner, eyes slit into daggers and fangs sheathed behind lips. Unlike the prudent snake, the two of them had no problem with letting the world know of their sentiments at any given time.

It'd take an eternity and a half for him to ever compare himself to a kittypet, though.

Ferretwhisker's squawky knell spewed obscenities and insults, and Chrys' ears caught upon such strident sound immediately, with a morbid curiosity knelling to be fulfilled. He trotted and stopped next to his mentor's silver-plated side, with his own tail lashing impatiently behind him, like a feathery whip with the balled fist holding it. Mismatched gaze smoldered with a seething scorn, with the boy's countenance always burning with some sort of rage that boiled below the surface, pushing against peach-fuzz and angular tapers. He watched the point-colored cat flail around in his own stupidity, which he expected one of such prestigious pedigree to be doing so. How pathetic. Familiar fury bubbled up from paws to pelt. It was his fire, his spirit, his will. Claws tight, never lowered, always primed.

"Maybe if you spent half as much time watching your step instead of floundering around like a pathetic, sopping-wet fish, you wouldn't be in this situation." Came the derisive scoff of the apprentice, an acerbic acid that rolled off of each word, as though the spittle of the flame's embers. He stared at the blood that mottled the whiteness below, and though Chrys never considered the snow a friend, he lamented how red had stained such a pristine color. The telltale stench of housecat was one he smelled interspersed in the pine and hollows of Skyclan, and it could never be masked no matter how long those collared rats spent outside. At least, that was what he figured.

"Help yourself. You got yourself into this mess. Now, get yourself out of it." Looking down upon the pitiful was a display that had been enforced on him, for it was always better to cast one's shadow then to gaze upwards to one. He would leave none of his mercy for those who would wish to drag one down to their rung of hell, and that was exactly what Chrysalis thought that those daylight "warriors" and proclaimed clan cats did. If his father had taught him anything, it was every cat for themselves.​