camp BY THE FIRE // intro, bonding

[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
"Lets see... things have been slow this evening, shall we pass the time with a story or two? A spot of grooming to ease the tension from the bones?" Willowburn cooed softly from where he reclined just outside the bramble bush where the warriors would slumber. He would have retired inside but he wished to watch the changing of the sky as the sun slowly set, splashing the clouds above with hues of reds and purples as the inky blackness crept in. The dark brown tabby flicked his long tail idly to and fro as he waited to see if there were any takers to his offer to relax and bond. "What a sight, it's as though the sun is bleeding as it retreats from the sky. Soon the cats of StarClan will come out to hunt, chasing it further into the pitch black."

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[SHARPSHADOW]

Willowburn begs for company. In the way that cats with a friendlier face and a voice unlike razors could afford to, lazily sprawled by the warrior's den. His posture invites no hostility. It only suggests useless idle chatter and the supposed comfort of a clanmate. Sharpshadow finds room for hostility anyways, because of course he does. And because— if they all let themselves go soft under the guise of togetherness, what would be left for them, then? Sootstar's cats trampling over their camp, maybe. Willowburn could keep singing in the meantime.

" ...Aren't you poetic?" Sharpshadow bids the rhetorical question, paws shuffling awkwardly by the warrior's den. A good chunk of ShadowClan seems to have no clue how to be kind without being pretentious. It's grating. Like— like those RiverClan cats. All words, with them...

He wouldn't be like them. ...Or like the sad faces in ShadowClan, for that matter. Sharpshadow's lips quirk in a belated kind - of - smile. Like, goodwill... or something. He means to be, but he wouldn't like to seem mean. The invitation seems... not for him. Why would it be for him? So he doesn't sit. His paws feel like slabs of stone against the ground.

Clearly, Willowburn had no stories of his own; only repurposing the sun setting to some sort of grand tale. What could she say? What could she say? " Chasing?" ...She could feed into the idiocy, she guesses. Her eyes narrow into slivers of silver. " ...I guess they've been impatient, lately. " With how short the days have gotten...

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

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• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw Mentoring Halfpaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 18 moons old as of 12.19.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

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[PATCHPAW]

Grooming herself idly nearby, Patchpaw's imagination bubble was popped at mention of stories and StarClan. Admittedly, she remained unsure about their omnipotent being. Many times during kithood, the queens would hum stories of star-studded cats revealing themselves at the dawn of the clans. "They are real, and they are always listening," they said. But Patchpaw had trouble with faith - how could she believe it, if she could not see? "They are in the stars. You can always seem them, Patchkit."
She shook her head unknowingly at the thought of sitting through more StarClan stories. Sharpshadow seems to be on the verge of critiquing Willowburn, but settles on more savory words instead. Willing for some other, more interesting story, she sticks around. "They should chase the sun back into the sky," she comments, "and make it warmer, while they're at it."

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎⁀➷ of all the colors that you shine info ・❥・ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• PATCHPAW ✩ she/her, apprentice of shadowclan ⭃ dilute calico with white markings and green eyes. 9 moons old. clever and calculated. glory-seeker. devout shadowclanner, by any necessary means. ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking. heavily practicing combat atm. ⭃ penned by jules ↛ @comfinesse on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
The tom gave a simple flick with a single ear as he registered Sharpshadow's initial remark, though he paid it no heed. It's the later comment that attracts his attention, as well as Patchpaw's words. "StarClan grows hungrier like us, they chase the sun with greater determination causing the longer stretches of darkness. But it will be the coming of the longer days as StarClan settles down that will herald the coming of increased prey for us." He added as he rolled onto his back so he could playfully paw at the sky as if trying to catch one of the fabled starry cats.

"Mystical fables aside how about a more intriguing tale? One that is true, hm? Did I ever share the story about the time I saw a flying monster? Like the thunderpath monsters this thing had the same blindingly bright eyes, and it emitted such an awful buzzing, like a thousand angry wasps. It wasn't large though, but it was still larger than me." Willowburn rolled back onto his belly as he swept his gaze across those who were present, curiosity spurring him to see if there were any reactions to his tale.

- ⋆ -​

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[WISTERIAPAW]

✝ ── Perchpaw's comment has him giggling, bringing a white paw to his maw to try and hide it. it's true that the sun wasn't out for long. the days were full of darkness. and it was colder. wisteriapaw doesn't say anything in response. only looking at willowburn with curiosity. the warrior is strange in many ways. for example...

Willowburn has a way with words alright that he struggles to understand the warrior. He sort of gets it, actually... Not really. The more intruiging tale has him scratching his head at what sort of monster is even being talked about. the elder's have told him about them, but he wasn't aware there were other types. he was curious that was for sure, but a devious thought come to mind. he masked it with innocence. the apprentice would tilt his head and say, "but aren't a lot of things are bigger than you?" again, he is well aware of what he's doing. he just wants to mess with willowburn, but he doesn't want willowburn to see through his lies.

 

[Needledrift]

"I could say the same about you." Needledrift coos at her son as she approaches. She sits down next to him, her tail sweeply gently across his back in a small moment of affection before her attention is drawn back to Willowburn. Younger than her by several seasons but three times as eloquent, Needledrift can't help but wonder if the flying monster was more of a flight of fancy.

"Along the Thunderpath? Or somewhere else?" She could not conjure up such a thing in her mind. When she tried, all she could think of was the cloudless thunder that sometimes echoed out across the forest before disappearing without so much as a lightning bolt. speech is in #B9D0F5​

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[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
He didn't have a clue what this tom was prattling on about, there was waxing poetically and then there was just making things up, which he also did - but he was a medicine cat and his words carried far more weight and could be prophetic. Not that they ever really were, but they could be. The black and white apprentice wanders over and pauses next to Needledrift before sidestepping slightly to ensure he was not too close in case her hanging jaw dribbled even a little in his vicinity - he would scream and it would be uncouth.

"There are many things bigger than us, the world itself for starters. We are stars in our own sky." There is a flash of upset crosses his maw as he recalls the avian that had wretched Little Wolf upward into the air, it had been sizeable enough to carry a full grown cat; they had many predators despite their efforts and it was unlikely birds of that size were the only things to worry over. Who was to say what else lurked in the woods yet uncovered.
"...a monster remains on the thunderpath, surely what you saw has a different name..." Knowing that monsters could leave the path was not something he cared to discover, it would ease his thoughts more to believe this an entirely new creature.

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
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  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  —⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
  
  

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[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
Wisteriapaw's attempt to mess with Willowburn was quite the flop, if anything thanks to both Needledrift and Magpiepaw's interjections. A chuckle arose from the tom as he idly dragged a claw through the dirt as he mapped out something almost bird-like in shape. "Why yes, many things are bigger than us." He stated simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was near the thunderpath, my dear Needledrift. And perhaps this thing is worthy of a new name, though I do not know what. Buzzing monster hardly seems eloquent enough." The tom had to hum briefly in thought as he pondered over the possibilities for his discovery. "Next time I find myself on a patrol near the border I shall have to keep an eye out for the creature. Maybe it will grace us with its presence again someday." It all depended on whether another twoleg decided to fly their drone toy out through the countryside again. "Now then, does anyone else wish to share a tale? As much as I love the sound of my own voice it does require a rest."

- ⋆ -​

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[FERNDANCE]

"I have seen one of them before... I think." Her head tilted left, then right, as the cinnamon tabby made herself known to the crowd of gathered felines. She had listened with a revered silence to the traveling tales of another and found the story resonated with her own experiences. She had not seen much of the flying monster that Willowburn mentioned, when it had begun to roar, she and the rest of the woodland creatures had scattered. Wide eyes slowly blinked as she tried to recall key details, unaware that whilst Willow had seen a drone, she had seen a helicopter. "My family called it a Thunderbird, because it can fly, and its wings sounded like thunder... it's a rather complex name," Ferndance mused. Thunderstick, Thunderbird, Thundersnakes, her family seemed to have an obsession with naming things after thunder, briefly, she had to wonder if they'd had any involvement with ThunderClan. Probably not, ThunderClan would have exiled them moons ago. Willowburn calls to the crowd for a tale and the cinnamon tabby's smile widened impishly. She rarely got the opportunity to share her own tales, a trill accompanied her next mews at the thought of that changing. "I have many stories."

She moved next to Needledrift and pressed her side against her mate, followed with her haunches settling neatly upon the floor. "Once upon a time... there was a rumour in the Twolegplace of a creature that would eat your soul. No one had ever seen it before, they had only seen its shadow upon the wall, large as a dog's, and demanding this and that to satiate its soul-hunger. The locals were terrified and did what it commanded, they did not know what it meant to have a soul eaten and they did not want to find out. Maybe the beast's teeth would tear through your heart, maybe it would bite your neck like uh... something that bites necks." Her posture grew stiff as she spoke, grin growing wicked. "One day, one cat had had enough of this beast and said 'I fear no creature that cannot show me its face. I'll take its soul and give everything back to the rogues'. She walked right up to this beast's nest and tackled the first thing she saw, but it wasn't the soul-eater, it was just a spindly black cat with yellow eyes. It had used the rogue's superstitions against them to amass a hoard of goodies, only the bravery of one had revealed the scam."

Her thin tail wrapped around her paws. "The black cat agreed to give back most of what he'd stolen, there were some in the Twolegplace who did not deserve their things back. It was these bad few who chased both the black cat and the she-cat out." There was much more to the tale, the romance that came afterward, a reiteration of the morals, anything that could've given her story purpose to more than just herself. She didn't want to share that quite yet. "And that is the story of how my mama met my papa."
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