camp blue jeans & leather — intro

quailbreeze

the touch of an angel
Nov 16, 2023
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quailbreeze had spent a large portion of her day out on the moors. hunting was the main concern, however, she also found herself running. she didn't have a reason for running. nothing was after her, she wasn't racing a clanmate. part of her simply wanted to run to feel the wind in her fur. a welcome distraction from the tensions that were facing the clan. sometimes, she felt at peace spending time alone on the moors, searching for nothing in particular.

"long day?" laying down beside a clanmate as she made her way into camp, she would offer them the thrush she'd caught earlier that afternoon. while she wasn't starving herself, she would still feel best offering them the catch before depositing it on the pile. hopefully, the clanmate she had elected to sit beside was in a friendly mood. with the way things had been recently, she was almost afraid of sitting too close to anyone devotedly loyal to sootstar.


  • ooc : — ​

  • — ic opinions
    — open to minor/healing powerplay
    — quailbreeze / windclan moor runner / feminine pronouns / biography

 

Observation is the first step of any experiment

Indeed the one who Quailbreeze had wish to intudge was in quite the friendly mood. Copper eyes blinking up at her as a yawn part from his lips, stretching his front paws a bit, once again returning his attention onto her while his tail swished. He took no interest in the thrush as it was not something he'd typically ate, and figured someone else would want a delightful bite.

"Not quite so, felt for me thats for sure. Though I do not mind the short days since having a clean fur has its perks" he would say in a playful tone while flicking his ears slightly. Despite the tension within the clan, Flaxshade just found himself watching as things continued. His eyes glued on the other. "Was it for you?" he would asked. Of course he had a feeling now, that Quailbreeze would soon regret her choice of cat to strike a conversation with but for now, he'll humor himself by a little talk with the moor runner.
"speak""Thoughts"
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He misses hunting rabbits on the moors in the early morning. The prey he stalks these days are immobile and bloodless, herbs growing in silence by the Thunderpath or the pool. With the mounting tension caused by the most zealous of Sootstar's warriors, Wolfsong could use such a distraction— but it is not one afforded to him, especially with potential conflict with RiverClan looming above them. Ensuring their stores of wound-tending plants are well-stocked is his priority, what with a mate and five children who could meet the other end of a RiverClanner's teeth.

He worries, too, for his apprentice. Her responsibility is as a bridge between WindClan and StarClan, but her mother spurns them, rejects them completely. Knowing Cottonpaw, he is uncertain whether she would be able to worm free of Sootstar's expectations.

Exhaling heavily, he glances over at Quailbreeze and Flaxshade and flicks an ear. He does not think he is in the mood for such domestic conversation, but he might make an attempt, at least. "Do you mean you struggle to bathe yourself, Flaxshade?" He asks archly. "I do not remember my days as a moor runner depriving me of a bath before resting."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 


Moments of quiet were few and far between in every clan, and Rattleheart often found hers when she was hunting. Down in the tunnels – unless she was on a patrol – there was nothing except for her and the silent dirt walls that surrounded her, the scent of anything else spurring her forward. It was work, yes, but she enjoyed the solace that focusing on it brought. Better than focusing on the mounting tensions within her home, or the possible war that was brewing in the distance. Much like Wolfsong, she welcomed any distraction that came her way, even if it left her tired and aching at the end of the day.

She did occasionally allow herself moments of genuine rest though, like now. Stretched out casually in camp, letting the last whispers of sunlight sink down into her fur. Her eyes only opened when she heard familiar voices from nearby, listening in as her clanmates indulged in idle chatter. Something she certainly preferred over the hushed whispers or harsh snarls that had become so commonplace as of late. "I can recall a couple of times where I was too exhausted for a nice long bath at the end of the day. Usually during leafbare, unsurprisingly... I imagine it's a touch easier for moor runners." Not that they didn't have their own hazards to watch out for. Mud could still spring up even on the moors, though it was certainly more prominent down in the tunnels.
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 


Such downtime wasn't something Sootspot liked to involve himself with, by the time his duties were done, he found himself too tired from socialising to keep up appearances for more than an hour. Isolation at the mouth of the tunnels was his preferred activity, but sometimes, he liked to break his monotonous schedule. Gliding closer to the creatures before him, the chimera's eyes flickered to those present, never showing his back to the group of cats who seemed so willing to sink their teeth into it. They talked as if the tensions of the last moon were non-existent, 'small talk', he believed it to be called. Regardless, it revealed much about those who engaged in it, and the Tunneler took a deliberate step back. He wrinkled his nose, if it wasn't the deceit of all those around him that would turn Sootspot against non-loyalists, it would be their bathing habits. It was not an offense to his nostrils but to his own skin, it would likely find itself much more flea-bitten if the others did not keep their standards high. "Will it be the same this leafbare, too?" He asked Rattleheart with an all-but-innocent tilt of the head. "One might find themselves... unwilling to share tongues with someone who cannot keep themselves clean, nose and all."


 

a small laugh would escape her jaws as flaxshade joked about being "clean." while being a moor runner had its benefits, she still held a certain fear of the tunnels. "it was long enough." she'd joke in return, although her words did express how she truly felt. wolfsong wasn't far behind flaxshade, and his comment made her wonder if flaxshade did have struggles with bathing himself. if the tunnelers could manage, surely one of her fellow moor runners wouldn't struggle that badly. 'he has a point you know flaxshade." she would tease gently, looking up as rattleheart and sootspot joined them. "oh i'm sure rattleheart is only teasing you sootspot. even kits can keep themselves clean at a certain age. there's not any reason that any of us willingly avoid bathing for days on end. are you saying you've never skipped a bath yourself?" if he claimed to have never skipped bathing himself even once, quailbreeze would find that difficult to believe. there's been times such as in illness that she simply didn't have the strength or desire to bathe herself.


  • ooc : — ​

  • — ic opinions
    — open to minor/healing powerplay
    — quailbreeze / windclan moor runner / feminine pronouns / biography

 
Redpaw loved the moors nearly more than Venomstrike. His mentor won only by a few margins as the winding hills were his refuge. Similarly, for other moor runner's it seemed this was also the case. The feeling of winds billowing through his tendrils of fur and the sensation of nearly airborne with every dash or jump.

How it made him feel was truly indescribable but the simplest way would be on top of the world. Having been lounging close to Qualibreeze's forming group the youth had listened with silent curiosity. Only occasionally glancing upward out of their lax position. Yet, the mutterings of bathing made his skin prickle with humility. Oh...

It was shameful to admit but the ruddy apprentice had absolutely skipped on a few needed baths in the past. In the aftermath of battle and twice as a kit. The day they had returned home Redpaw collapsed in his bed for nearly two solid days. Only getting up to bathe and eat by the next suns rise. Thankfully, Sootspot's comedic distaste lessened their nerves.

Decidedly, he added his voice to the conflict. "I've certainly missed a bath in the past." Direct and unbothered was the aim. Still small inklings of nervousness continued to litter the youth's verbiage.