camp DAYDREAMING ╱ TO COME ´ˎ˗

Sunstride is frequently consumed by melancholy. He never intends for it to be so, and even still, eternally, it drags upon his tail until he can do naught but sink to its embrace. A temporary darkness for the reprieve that would follow– was it not a trade worth making? It does not feel like one when he is caught in it. Like a twoleg's trap it ensnares him. This is not a miserable thing. Consumed as he is, lost to thoughts and antics and days long behind him, there is a smile upon Sunstride's melancholic face. He had been tidying camp when this bout came upon him. The littering of twigs and dying heather had been swept to a corner for easy removal, his paw tucked half-sweep when his mind had fallen away.

Across camp, before the nursery, lovers lie. Another queen had joined their ranks a few sunsets ago, and although she is not yet rounded with her litter, it shows in the glow of her face and her mate's helpless excitement. Their cheeks are pressed together above the meal that they share between long grooming sweeps of their tongues. Never before has this chore felt so terribly lonely. Tearing his gaze from them only returns it to the task before him. Cleaning up debris, an apprentice's duty. It does not last before they are returning to the nursery. Back and forth, seaglass eyes sweep in a metronome's beat, though there is no comfort to be found in the rhythm. What might he give to be there himself? To have another's side pressed to his own again, where the world trembles in delight and discovery.

Still looking at the nursery, Sunstride sighs.
border2.png

  • ooc:
  • SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
    —— cis male, he - him. thirty-eight moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
    —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
    —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.

    sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
  • "speech"
 
Juniperkit is bored. Very, very bored. With his apprenticeship looming on the horizon, an inconsolable feeling of restlessness has infected him like an itch. Although he loves snuggling with Mama in the nursery, he can't do that forever! It's impossible to relax when all he can think about is how soon it will all be over and he will move into the apprentice den with his siblings. Plus, with the addition of Scorchstreak and a few other queens, the nursery is starting to get really cramped. The child yawns, pink tongue curling in his mouth while he lowers himself into a deep stretch. His claws flex into the ground. Briefly, he imagines that it is a mouse beneath his paws instead of dirt. He spots Sunstride doing chores across camp and decides to help the older tomcat out. He doesn't mind chores. And it's better than sitting around all day.

As he walks out of the nursery, Juni is forced to sidestep a couple of canoodling lovers that makes his stomach churn with a mixture of strange emotions that is best described as nausea. "Blegh," he says as he approaches Sunstride, noticing the warrior's gaze. "I can't wait to move into the apprentice den!" Juni doesn't want to leave Spiderbloom, but he does want to escape the epidemic of affection that makes it impossible to get a decent night's rest. Although he isn't sure how babies get into a queen's belly, Juni is certain that all the swollen tummies and grumpy queens means that the nursery will be overcrowded sooner rather than later.​
 
Last edited:
The calico had not been prone to fits of crying before she’d fallen pregnant (before her friend was ripped from her by a pack of rogues). She has always prided herself on her neutrality, her warm stoicism through the worst of times. But now, she can understand how Sunstride feels, even if she does not share the same reasoning.

Juniperkit’s noise of disgust causes her to chuckle; although she’s grown somewhat close to the new queen, she can’t help but to see the couple’s affection as a pointless public display. She scoffs, though, when the kit says that he can’t wait to change dens. "And I can’t wait for you to move into the apprentice’s den, either," she says, and it is with such fondness that it feels strange coming from her scarred mouth. It isn’t that she particularly minds Spiderbloom and her kits—but oftentimes the tumbling of them beneath her paws becomes more of a hazard than the calico would like. She’ll be the first to admit that she is heavily pregnant, and her maneuverability has taken a great blow. If she were to fall, who knows if she could even stand back up.

Idly, Scorchstreak looks to her fellow lead warrior. He seems to be watching the nursery, and perhaps wistfully so. She wonders if there is a certain reason, and whether that reason has to do with another of their lead warrior colleagues. But she will not press him about Wolfsong, isn’t horribly interested in the nuances of pining. "You seem distracted," she says instead, an observation that is offered alongside a smile.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 

"Oooh, why the long face sunny boy? Badgermoon try to snuggle you again~?"
Mintshade both looked out of place and blended in perfectly, depending on where the shadows of the tall grass fell and the clouds dappled she was either a great dark eyesore or part of the scenery. The lanky black cat wandered over, pausing alongside Scorchstreak and leaning around to examine the molly's now extended belly in full view, "Stars above, you're gonna be popping any day aren't you?" The thought of her own wire-frame of a body looking similar brought an immediate sensation of disguise and unease; you wouldn't catch her dead with kits. Having to trip over the little buggers everywhere was bad enough and she stepped a paw over Juniperkit to reach the warm dappled tom with a wide grin brightly contrasted over her shadowy maw.
"You can't be staring at that nursery cause you want kits one day right? We got way too many of those menaces right now if you ask me. Hold off until the current bothers are grown." Her tail swings and flicks, trying to shoo Spiderbloom's little spiderling along its way and away from her; ignoring the fact he was here first.
 
Badgermoon had been growing jumpier and jumpier by the day. The more round Scorchstreak's belly became, the more tangible the reality of his impending fatherhood became, the less easily he went through his usual routine. Now, with the lead tunneler almost ready to burst, one could've been forgiven for wondering if Badgermoon had ants in his fur, so fidgety and jumpy he had become. If anyone inquired, he'd dismiss his nerves as being about RiverClan, or ShadowClan, or SkyClan, or rogues, or, or, or - essentially anything other than the real reason. That was a secret he intended to keep til it could be kept no longer...which, by the looks of it, was any day now.

The black-and-white tom had been checking up on @SNAKEPAW and his injury before spotting Sunstride looking...well, quite frankly, looking mopey. He approached his colleague and the trio of WindClanners chatting with him with concern clear in his gaze, though he didn't mention it as he sat - staying away from Scorchstreak, for...no reason. "Keep running your mouth, Mintshade, and you'll be my next target for cuddles." he threatened the black she-cat with some amusement, lifting one large paw and waving it in mock warning.
 
❀​ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀​
periwinklebreeze | 10 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff
"Wh-what's wrong with w-wanting k-kits?" he cannot help but ask, appearing from the nursery himself after delivering some new feathers for the kits to play with. Though periwinkle is still young, he's never been uncertain about what he wanted for his future. From as long as he can remember he'd wanted to grow his family - wanted to be a parent to his own kits someday the way his mothers were to him. When hya had brought back cloudkit, he'd been so excited to have a new baby brother and had immediately taken to following him about like a momma-bear. Now most of his family has fallen into shambles, some dead and some just gone, but that dream has yet to die. He visits the nursery often, helping out where he can - kit sitting, cleaning, brining prey. It doesn't matter to him that most of windclan watches him with thinly veiling (or often outright) suspicion when he's spending time with the queens and kits.

 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"

C_Angelkisses.gif
Houndthistle chuffs as he approaches, humorous, as his gaze watches the pair of cats disappear into the nursery past Periwinklepaw, too caught up in their little lives to worry about the fact they were currently a reason for such conversation in camp. His eyes drag toward Scorchstreak first, hovering a second on her large belly, as he idly wonders about something from his past before looking to Sunstride. His lips twitch as the large lumbering tom hums, voice wistful even as his joke is sly, "It ain' all daisies and dove-down. Those lil buggers can really test yer patience." He speaks from experience, remembering how Sun was when he was young, running around his paws-especially when he learned how to talk. The 'no' phase perhaps was the closest Houndthistle had ever gotten to cuffing a kit over the ears, and he was grateful when Sun finally grew out of it. But, despite those, it was something he remembers fondly. Waking up to the golden and white shape pulling on his ears, begging to play or having him curled by Houndthistle's paws while Houndthistle regaled him with stories he made up about the stars-stories his own mother told him. It was, perhaps, very funny when he learned that the clans actually did go to the stars for their deaths.


"speech"

  • text
  • Physical Health
    100%
    ⤷ no current wounds
    Mental Health
    98%

  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

 
Sunstride did not know the eagerness of apprenticeship the way that Juniperkit must. Back in his homeland, there had been no such ceremony. From the moment they could walk, they were taught to fight. In small scuffles against his father's paw, or in pinning another kit– there had been instruction, of course, yet it came in waves, in a way that fit to him like pieces of ice back against the frozen shore. He knew where it had come from and what it would mean. He did not have one teacher, but many. A clan of his own to raise their future leader. It is no wonder that he had thought so highly of himself, when he puts words to such things. Everything that had weighed upon his shoulders, all that he had wanted. They had known it just the same, even if it is not within their reach. When he looks at Juniperkit he can only attempt the same. He smiles fondly at the youth in lieu of anything greater.

"You will make a fine warrior, when that time comes," he chuckles, reaching out with one broad paw to prod at the kitten's chest. "But still, you should enjoy the time that you have. Your mentor will push you far harder than Spiderbloom ever will." Fondness clouds glass-blue eyes, though it does not fully pry itself from the clutches of bittersweet mourning. For Juniperfrost and the father he had not been able to be– for Juniperkit, who will never know the fullness of his care for him. Though life in WindClan turns ever onwards, with new life brought to them at each corner, he cannot help but regret what they had lost.

Perhaps this is the root of his pain. Not a yearning as some of his clanmates must think, but an incessant pain from which he cannot escape. An ache, not for what might be, but for what never would be again. He misses Wolfsong, yes. He misses the friendship they had once had, and the ironclad trust they had afforded one another. There is a group that surrounds him, full of playful mirth. He is not opposed to their closeness; even still, there is an empty space that will go unfilled. Sunstride toys with a dried sprig of heather, rolls it beneath his paw until it crushes to powder. Somehow he manages laughter: "Surely they can do no worse to my nerves than the two of them." He gestures with the same paw to Mintshade and Badgermoon, grin splitting his maw but affection softening his mouth.

If there were not so many of them, he might have opened up to speak of his desires. If there were not so many of them...this might have been easier. Or it could have been even harder. Regardless, Sunstride does not regret the crowd. His mood has lifted some and he laughs again, and shakes his head. "I was caught in wondering what sort of father I might be. If I would turn out to be like my own." Not the whole truth, yet close enough that his voice slows with weighted thought. "I think we all hope to be better than what we had been given."
border2.png

  • ooc:
  • SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
    —— cis male, he - him. thirty-eight moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
    —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
    —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.

    sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
  • "speech"