pafp Catch a Break || Collecting trinkets

Jul 10, 2022
105
5
18
@CLAYFUR


GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS

Her paws gently drifted as she followed close behind the warrior, her bi-colored eyes drifting down at the riverbank as she attempted to spot anything that caught her attention. Frostpaw had offered up to Clayfur to gather some trinkets or pretty things for the other's nest. A break away from all the terrible stuff that was going on. Smooth grey rocks were visible in the clear blue water as she try to search for anything such as shells or feathers that would go well in some of her friend's nests. She took a deep breath in before fixing her attention on the warrior with a warm smile dancing on her maw.

"Found anything interesting yet Clayfur?" she would ask the other with gentle curiosity. Truth be told, she was glad the other agreed to go on this tiny trip with her, especially with all that was going on. He seemed quite happy with the idea, although she did invite others to join them as having more than just two cats out at a time was a lot better, especially with all that was going on. There was still that slight worry on the back of her head, what if Clayfur got hurt, or trapped by a twoleg? She blinked a bit, they were close near camp so nothing like that would happen anyways, besides... they weren't actively patrolling near the twolegs, so Frostpaw forced herself to relax and return her attention to finding pretty things, wondering if Raccoonpaw would like anything she found...
"speak""Thoughts"
 

The habit of decorating his sleeping place—which, in the case of RiverClan, is his nest tucked away in the warrior’s den—is not one that Clay has always participated in. As a young cat, he never felt the need to have a pretty nest or bed of any sort, was content to sleep on the straw-covered barn floor pressed up beside whichever family member would tolerate his presence each night. But as he grew, and family members and other barn cats grew less tolerant of a bony form draped across their backs, a necessity was created. He’d come into the feeling that his sleeping area had to be full, packed with feathers and scraps of squirrel fur and whatever else he’d picked up each day. Over time, it had grown into something more vain, a desire for his sleeping place to both look and feel good.

These days, the act of collecting things for his nest is almost better than the actual experience of sleeping in the nest. Especially when he has friends to help him search for fun things to add to it—and maybe even add some trinkets to their own nests. Someday, every nest in RiverClan is going to look as cool as his!

Today his companion is Frostpaw; she even approached him to offer the idea! If he hadn’t already adored this apprentice, he surely does now. As they walk, she asks if he’s found anything, and the tom can’t help but light up with a grin. "I found… this!" He tilts his head to one side, revealing the shell he’s held carefully between his teeth and his cheek. It’s pearlescent and rather flat, and he can’t wait to add it to his nest. Or, perhaps, offer it to another for their nest. "How about you, have you found anything?" He asks in return. "Or is there something specific you’re looking for?"
[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]
 

It was a sign of his distraction he did not hear the two chatting away as they moved along the riverside, his focus on something trivial and nonsensical so much that he found himself languishing in his thoughts to such a degree the wayward tread of pawsteps did not once alert him to the adventurous duo making their way down the pebbled path.
Smokethroat did not look up once, a paw moved to neatly turn a stone over that was just barely in the water only for him to scoff and send it flying into the river with a swift swat of his paw. The process was repeated a few more times, pebbles nudged and stones turned as he nosed about on the ground as if looking for something. He had excused Frostpaw and Iciclepaw for the day, informed them that constant training was unecessary strain despite being the sort to partake in it himself; his hypocrisy aside, a break was always welcomed so he did not expect to see either once they were granted their freedom.

It is only after a moment does he realize he is not alone, fur bristling and head raised to turn sharply at Clayfur and his own apprentice with narrowed eyes before his demeanor relaxed at the familiarity before very quickly turning away. The dark tom does not speak a greeting immediately, shoulders raised and head low as if embarrassed by something before he lashed his tail once and recomposed himself.
"Evening." Smokethroat's voice is its usual gruff tone but somewhat distracted, he blinks both orange eyes before shaking his head, "What are you two doing out here?" There is an almost accusing edge to the question, as if he is bothered by other cats being present in the area but does not wish to explain why. The dark tom's gaze continues to glance down on occasion, examining the stones at his paws without touching them now.