bramble wood | fixing up camp

In their desperation to keep the fresh-kill pile stocked full of prey, the rest of the things in camp had admittedly fallen into a state of disrepair. The bramble wall that fortified the dark hollow the marsh cats called home had various gaps in its prickly barrier, leaving them vulnerable to an attack by a predator (or worse, the pine cats should they grow that hostile). That was Briar's biggest concern. But, there was also the fact that the dens needed spruced up and many of the nests were old and dirty. With all of the hunting patrols that had been going out every day, Briar wasn't worried about pulling everyone away from that task. They were all desperate enough for food that a few cats at a time could leave the busy work in camp to find some measly scraps to eat. This needed to be done, though. They couldn't let their camp's defenses and simple comforts deteriorate in their desperation for food.

Briar padded into the middle of camp, shaking some remnants from her own old nest from her spiky fur.
"Hey everyone! Gather 'round!" she yowled, letting her voice carry through the hollow to all those present and ready to listen. "I've noticed the camp could use some fixing up. The bramble wall needs to be refortified. Nests need to be replaced. Dens need to be repaired! I'd like some volunteers to help me out. Maybe a team for each of the three things I mentioned. I can aid with the bramble wall. I'll need someone to head a team to fix nests and someone for dens!" With that, she went quiet, waiting to see who would rush to help make their camp a safer place to use.


"None of these are a queens job," Soot lets out a displeased grown, "But considering this colony has been infested with a bunch of lazy, rat-brained cats as of late... I'll do my part and help with the bramble wall." Perhaps it was becoming no secret that the blue she-cat was displeased with what the group was shaping up to be in recent moons... It was in no offense or fault to Briar, but some of these cats they should've kicked out a long time ago. Rain's group- they should've kicked them out a long time ago.

The she-cat heaved a heavy sigh to release some inner tension before allowing her muscles to relax. For now, this is just how it was going to be... she likely needed to get used to it.


Hearing her sister talk about the camp needing to be fixed up makes some semblance of relief flood through her. Busy work. Something that can take her mind off of everything that has been going on. Her body shifts from where she is laying down and she forces her paws to move and get up. Slowly her tall figure stretches and her spiky spine arches before she shakes herself out. Hunting has been plentiful at least for her and she has done enough for the day. Yet as she hears Sootstride her gaze turns to look at the pregnant molly. For a moment her gaze narrows but then she turns her eyes away before focusing what her sister said about forming teams. She thinks she will keep a step away from the pregnant molly and instead focus on doing her task. "I'll get nesting material and clean out the bedding." This will get her out of camp and likely away from others for a little while. Collecting things was a peaceful process and not much interactions happened.
  • hound_banner_tpe_fix.png
    † ( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  It seems 's'if the time he'd had out of camp is coming to a close. The hunting trips had done him well, warm and lonely as they were. Perhaps he could've taken another with him now and then, but most of those he could truly stand were too young to chase down the sort of adventures he found himself on, or far enough from his type'f cat that it'd do more harm than good to drag them around. But there'd be no avoiding these marshes forever. The short time he's spending within the colony's camp is disrupted by Briar's commands– he's glad someone around here still has a head on their shoulders. Everything seems to be getting worse. They need someone with a steady mind.

    "Suppose that'll leave me for the den repair," he says with a lifted brow, as if asking if anyone would ask any different of him. "Seems easy enough. I'll find a few other paws an' take that off o' your mind."

  • n/a
  • ──── complete information can be found here.
    ──── hound. trans male, he/him pronouns only.
    ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
    ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.

    ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes.
    ──── lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride.
    ──── hound's notable features include his impressive height (fifteen inches at the shoulder), the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
  • 44986808_Y0L5cvdbMkmx4RT.png

╰☆☆ Admittedly, the queen spends more time in camp than some of her groupmates seem to. Many of them have wandering paws, hearts that yearn for brighter skies or greener fields. Twilight has found comfort in the dark depths of their marshes, and she's keen on remaining here for the duration of her life. She only hopes her son will do the same; she'd like to see his children be born, after all.

She stops her chatting with a nearby feline when Briar calls for their attention. The spiky-furred femme and Soot, the pregnant smoke, begin to work on the bramble wall.

Her ears flick, and she rises, pads over to Bone and Hound. "I could start helping with the dens," she says to the tabby, voice bright. "If we finish before Bone does, I can go help collect, too. I don't mind." Now that Ash can more or less fend for himself prey-wise, Twilight has more free time than she's ever had, since her childless youth. It's an odd, empty feeling. She isn't sure she likes it.

Time for another litter, she thinks humorously, but the thought isn't a serious one. She can replace those empty hours with time spent working for Briar's group, getting to know the other felines she shares quarters with.
  • "Would the queen appreciate a strong young tom's help, then?" says Vesper cheekily, gliding on deft paws to Sootstride's side and dipping his head in greeting to Bone, Hound, and Twilight. Irritability rarely fazes him, and far less coming from a pregnant molly who has every reason to growl—especially when opportunistic little pests have been stealing prey that could feed her and her unborn kits. Yet, much as he enjoys a successful kill, hunting is not their only need, and so Vesper must play his part in providing adequate shelter. Ever the charming one, he scrunches up his face at Sootstride in a sweet but playful smile. It is one that he also directs toward Briar, though it takes on a tone of admiration for the leader's initiative.
  • Vesper is a lithe adult male with sleek black fur and golden eyes. His charismatic countenance attracts many to his side, sweetened by easygoing warmth and a radiant smile. Quick-witted and elegant, his hunting and fighting prowess inspires equal admiration as his adroitness of speech, and single-minded ambition impels him to pursue newer and greater heights. Despite an openness of emotional expression and a commitment to ensuring that everyone feels included in the spaces he inhabits, he maintains a careful hold on his privacy—few truly know him beneath the surface of a sociable and playful exterior.
Pumpkin is called forth by Briars caterwaul, curious as she pads forth. The black female, Briar, night woman, the leader of this place- she remembers her from a couple sunrises ago. It hadn’t been that long she had joined, has it? She has lost track of time. The gnawing sensation at her stomach has begun to drive her up the wall- perhaps it would have been better if she kept her mouth shut, then mother wouldn’t have disowned her. But i’d be unhappy. I like these guys.
She shakes her head to clear her personal thoughts, a breath and she was back to normal, cocky Pumpkin. “I bet’cha I could fix all of this in five seconds flat!” the young girl boasts, placing a dramatic paw on her chest. “Nothing that good ol’ Pumpkin can’t fix!” she smiles wide, even if no one pays her any mind, her tail swishing back and forth. “Just let me know what I can do and you can bet your tail I will be on it.

− ♱ ABOUT : his leader's tone reaches through camp with practiced ease and in turn, the mottled tom's ears perk to alertness. from where he'd been longing aside the nursery visiting quiet, fur just brushing the protective thorny briar as he hoists himself to his paws to make his approach, giving his coat a brief shake on the way forward. a few had claimed nest collecting and others were falling into their own sections, choosing with chore they'd be plastered with today with the energy of cats somehow not starving. he was tired, bitter -- his limbs ached from malnutrition and stress, too - many hunting patrols with not enough return to excuse the use of energy he didn't have. cicada's expression was set in a hard line as he mulls over the options, before eventually settling on the wall repair.

he makes his way over to soot and vesper, snorting just slightly after overhearing the latter's words," careful, that queen still packs a bite." he purrs, the tone rough from recent disuse. soot, while pregnant, was a spitfire -- they'd be lucky if she allowed them to help with the wall at all. he attempts a friendly flick to the molly's shoulder with the tip of his bicolored tail, rounding her other side and allow his gaze to drift towards the dilapidating wall,"we should collect some fresh briar to repair the holes. vesper and i can gather, if you want to start clearing the old away." it was a pain to collect the damned bramble, but he could take a few scrapes. a few more, that is,

  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty two months old, marsh group member
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers

  • none.

Within seconds, Briar had a steady and strong-willed group ready to aid her in repairs. She flashed Bone and Hound a grateful look for offering to lead the other teams. "Alright, I guess the rest of you can split off between the three of us," she said, tail flicking. Her eyes landed on young Pumpkin, who seemed eager to help. There were a few jobs a kit could do, so Briar was fine with allowing her to assist them in their many tasks of the day. "Pumpkin, why don't you help Bone clear out all of the old nests, hm?" she suggested.

Cicada offered himself and Vesper to gather new bramble to repair the wall, so that left Briar with Soot to do the repairs. She liked Soot, though she was a bit hesitant about working with the queen simply for the fact that she seemed a little ill-tempered on this fine morning - but could she blame her? They were all a little on edge with things going on.
"Okay then. Cicada and Vesper can collect things for the wall. Soot and I can stay behind to start on repairs," she said, glancing over at the other molly to see if that suited her.


"A gentleman?!" A shocked meow arises from the throat of the blue molly in response to Vesper, "Another thing that's become a rarity here!" An ear flicks in passive acknowledgment at Cicada's warning of her sharp-tongue, she was used to hearing such both jokingly and seriously, hardly did it phase her. She doesn't give a direct response on if she'd appreciate help aside from a dip of her head, she'd be alright with it. It is what anyone should be doing for a queen after all.

Briar's suggestion pleases her and she communicates that with a warm glance with her eyes, leave the toms to go out gathering and for the she-cats to stay back and do the hard work... At least they knew the barrier would get repaired properly this way, Soot wasn't known for half-ass jobs (or so she confidently thought of herself), nor was the spikey furred leader.

With that she silently strides forward, paws quickly and elegantly getting to work on weaving thorns and brambles together. She'd grab at any materials they had already set aside to assist every now and then.


"Can I join you two in helping make the den walls?" A soft voice spoke up, having approached as Briar sent everyone out to do different things. She wanted to help! Wanted to be of something useful to the group as everything aspect she was terrible at. This couldn't be that hard right? If Soot could do it as a pregnant queen, then surely Sandra would manage as well? Those green eyes looked to Soot then to Briar as she waited to be told yes or not. PArtially afraid to be told no and sent off to do something she probably couldn't do.
[ I Use To Hear A Simple Song ]
  • Vesper laughs, bright and ringing, at Soot's exclamation. "It's what a lady deserves!" Times may be hard, but that only places greater import on lifting his groupmates' spirits. Hopelessness will kill them quicker than starvation. In jest, he wrinkles his nose at Cicada and says, "Perhaps if you were a gentleman, she wouldn't have need to bite." (He chooses not to state what is perhaps the obvious—he bites back.) He wrinkles his nose again, this time genuinely, at the thought of gathering brambles, but he straightens up and nods decisively.

    Pumpkin's bravado endears her to him. He reaches out a paw to ruffle the top of Pumpkin's head before obeying Briar and relocating to stand at Cicada's side, ready to follow. With any luck, the older tom won't mind him being the annoying little shit he is, though perhaps fighting the brambles would take up too much of his focus. Then his attention shifts to Sandra and her quieter approach; Vesper smiles at her encouragingly.
  • kill me i posted on the wrong account at first
  • Vesper is a lithe adult male with sleek black fur and golden eyes. His charismatic countenance attracts many to his side, sweetened by easygoing warmth and a radiant smile. Quick-witted and elegant, his hunting and fighting prowess inspires equal admiration as his adroitness of speech, and single-minded ambition impels him to pursue newer and greater heights. Despite an openness of emotional expression and a commitment to ensuring that everyone feels included in the spaces he inhabits, he maintains a careful hold on his privacy—few truly know him beneath the surface of a sociable and playful exterior.