BONES IN THE OCEAN [ pirate stories ]

[willowroot]

( ♬ ) watching the new and old life of the river begin to intermingle, willowroot can't help but think of their upbringing. their territory was the cold port town, their favorite colors the grey of the skies and the hue of the dark black sea. from the minute they had opened their eyes, they can remember training. practicing the hunter's crouch over and over again until, at four moons, they had caught a mouse. it hadn't been an honest kill- the creature was limping and left to die by its companions. still, willow remembers the joy exploding in their chest, the ringing voices of the twolegs who snatched them up and cradled them with rough yet sturdy arms. where their parents had failed, the sailors of the port had succeeded. it had been the mens' love and doting that raised them, the knowledge that even as they were slinking back to the overcrowded box of their siblings, someone wanted them. someone waited for them. at five moons, they'd been taken, finally, onto the fishing vessels of the twolegs, and, on that cold day, they had said goodbye to their blood family. their true family waited aboard.

three moons of the most blissful life they can remember. three moons of hunting and cuddling and getting fed little scraps of fish. when the ship sank, it had felt like a dream. now, willowroot sits on the island camp, gazing at the sun in the sky, the bright twinkling of the rushing water, and cannot find any connection to the depths of the sea from which she came. her name is no longer caraway, her paws are now more deft and she can't help but wonder whether her old fisherman friends would ever recognize her.

one thing does remain from those days- stories. these are tales that she was built on and in turn passed to buck and raccoon, and then finally to boar. the pirate stories of days long past lurk in her brain, and she wonders if anyone in riverclan would care. slender paws tap across camp towards the side of the nursery, where she will sit, daintily curling her tail over her paws. "kits, warriors and all in between or otherwise! i have a story to tell. if you wish to hear a tale of adventure, of monsters and heroes, come gather around me!" a grin twitching at her maw, the smoke waits, hope swelling in her chest. this is something she knows. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[Raccoonpaw]

Raccoon had been taking a nap underneath a overhanging willow branch, hidden away by the long tendrils of the tree, and they lifted their head rather tiredly. Willowroots' voice rings out and they perk up their ears at the sound. Stories! This was their favorite pass time back at the willow tree, Willowroot telling them about their life before the island. About being a pirate cat! So of course, Raccoon got up to their feet and bounded over without a second thought, "[color=929292]Story time story time![/color]" They basically crowed loudly, and settled down beside the smoke as they sat beside the nursery. Raccoon nestled into their side happily, tail laying across the smokes' back, and they looked up at them with rounded, orange eyes. ​

 

[S E E D K I T]

THERE'S A STARMAN, WAITING IN THE SKY​

---

Seedkit lazed about near the shore. In the more shallow parts of the water he'd waded in, and watched as the current gently tugged on his long, glistening fur. In the reflection he saw himself, the afternoon sky as his backdrop. How those soft, dreamy clouds, reminded him of his feathered, mossy bed. He found himself trudging back from the bank, his mind already halfway into a dream about fat slugs, or becoming the leader of Coolclan (whatever kits were into nowadays). Now was a good time as any for a nap. But he was drawn to a halt by Willowroot's voice, stopping him at the entrance to the nursery. Two poles on opposite sides, pulling and pushing Seedkit, but both promised something fantastical. A non-sensical dream or a thrilling story, Seedkit was forced to decide. The tom settled near Raccoon, resting that heavy head of his (curse those ears!) on his silver paws. ​

 

[CLAYFUR]

He’s been trying to fish more often as of late, and thankfully not repeating his first-day tumblr into the shallows of the river. His skills leave a lot to be desired, still, but at least today Clayfur has managed to return with something worthwhile. He drops the small fish he’s caught on top of the pile, then begins to make his way toward the nursery. He doesn’t have to, he knows that Ice and Mudpelt are the best parents ever and he doesn’t necessarily need to check up on them, but he likes the security of peeking into the den just to greet his growing family.

Willowroot’s call for a story draws his attention to the smoky feline, though, and Clay tips his head curiously. Heroes and monsters, huh? He’s always been a fan of adventure—why, it’s the whole reason he’s here right now, and not living in some barn with sixty other cats! To say he’s excited would be an understatement. Almost like a kit himself, Clay loves a good story. Back at the barn, the elderly cats would often tell grand tales of their own journeys, though Clay’s still unsure how much of any of it was true.

The tabby trots over to sit a fair distance away, allowing for as much room as possible for various kits to gather in front of him, closer to their storyteller. He then stretches and settles onto his stomach, head resting atop white-capped paws. Seedkit seems to have the same idea—but of course, everyone knows the best way to listen to a story is with one’s head in their paws.
​

[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[Frostdrop.]

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS​

---

With not many other things to do and the sound of Willowroot's voice offering up stories has brought Frost over, which was perhaps one of the more... non-typical cats to show up to listen to a story but... bored out of her mind the young she-cat brought herself over, easily finding a spot next to Raccoon as she glanced over at them briefly while a gentle smile danced on her lips before fixating her attention back to Willowroot. This was much better, at least in her opinion than attempting to fortify camps, keeping kits entertained, watching the warrior come and go or even cleaning the elder's den.

She was not the only one to appear luckily so she wasn't too embarrassed to show herself by listening to old tales that Willowroot wished to say... but it was another way of relaxing and a way to learn of each other. She curled around her paws, giving a slight twitch of greetings to Seedkit and Clayfur while she waited for Willowroot to begin whatever tale she wished to spin to them. Hopefully, it was worth listening to.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

yes, caraway's epic tales of adventure...buck has heard it all before. the feline is nothing short of stories and tales, ones that had once captured buck's attention, but now fades into a calm background noise. the newcomer settles near raccoon, not missing the closeness between her kin and frost. she gives the younger a slight push, a light tease in her eyes before she focuses on the gathering crowd, eyeing those who hunger for a story. all drooling for their story of ship life, of some far-off adventure that they'll never have to see. she can't blame them, the difference between her and caraway's upcoming was startling. to learn of a world confined to wild waters and relying on two legs and their inventions.

there's water dripping off her otter pelt, furthering herself into the ground. it's nice to relax to a good story. her muscles are tight and tired, but buckgait is more interested in the reactions of the crowd rather than retiring to some nest.
​

her