camp dusk~

[Cricketcry]

Cricketcry sat in the outskirts of the hallow, his moss-hued eyes glinting in the crawling shadows. The minute tom's head was inclined slightly upwards, exposing the delicate ginger fur of his throat. The sky shifted between shades of blue to swatches of orange and red as the sun and moon fought the timeless battle of who would be center stage. He remained there, statuesque, watching daylight vanish. Cricketcry cherished these quiet moments where the clan was hushed and the nighttime bugs sang their songs in the foliage. When he saw the first stars appear and pulse subduedly, he lowered his mottled head and his neck this way and that, relieving tension that built up. He exhaled softly, pleased by the beauty of dusk, as he always would be. In the distance he could hear the mewing of kits settling down in the nursery hushed by their mothers and other soft murmurings of felines. He exhaled contentedly and rolled his shoulders back. Despite appearing content, the bicolored tom was troubled as he knew that sleep would resist him, as it often did. Thus why he remained in the hallow-- it was better to not be in his nest and be unable to sleep and potentially disrupt the rest of his counterparts by his persistent tossing and turning. Cricketcry frowned.​

 

[dimmingsun]

"Can't sleep or just skygazing?"

Dimmingsun's voice no doubt reaches Cricketcry first, before his body does, slowly making his way towards the ginger fur amongst the numerous dips of camp. Sleep has been catching him late nowadays; with his mind turned into something akin to a bee's nest, it's no surprise he prefers tiring himself out before trying to settle down for the night. Aching limbs melt into the still-warm ground much easier than restless ones. If anyone in the vicinity struggles with keeping their eyes closed long enough to fall unconscious, Dimmingsun notices fast.

His belly fur greets the sand beside Cricketcry, a low, thoughtful hum coming from this throat. "At least clearing your head at night is easier." Or so he thinks. Daytime is much too busy for self-indulgent thoughts.
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[Cricketcry]

{𓆧} Cricketcry's round, pensive eyes rests on Dimmingsun quickly, hearing the rasp of shifting sand from nearby. "Both," he murmurs coarsely as he watches his counterpart's approach, his mossy gaze following the tomcat as he settles besides him.
He inclines his head in a subtle greeting, recognizing that this feline had trouble sleeping, too. "No, no..." He replies, his head shaking side to side in polite disagreement. "My thoughts become like a maze at night. I am followed by them into my dreams." The words tumble out, to his own surprise and he frowns deeply, pulling his tail tighter to himself in discomfort.
A half hearted chuckle bubbles from his lips and he rasps, "My apologies-" He notices a pill-bug leisurely creeping by his toes and he raises his paw to gingerly, with great care, cover it and then reveal it as curled up tightly. He glances back towards Dimmingsun and pulls his paw back towards himself. "I will likely be up for a while," he declares, slightly somberly- as though it was an invitation for his clanmate to stay there with him.

WHITE NOISE ~ WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND ~

• 
  
• CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan 𓆧
  𓆧 AMAB / he/they / 28 ☾
  𓆧 petite, reclusive, timid, loves bugs, ((wip))
  
  medium coat diminutive tortoiseshell tom with oddly round green eyes
  
  

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[MIDNIGHTPAW]

Midnightkit had always enjoyed stargazing. Something about it had always felt comforting to her, like coming home. She imagined those stars shined brighter when she watched them, knowing they were up there just for her. But lately, even depths of the night sky could not soothe her aching soul. She spent nearly every night out of her nest, staring up at those stupid stars, only wondering now why they looked down on her and laughed.

She now knew that one of her birth parents was up there somewhere - or was he in the place of no stars? he'd done bad things - and just as she'd been struggling to grasp the reality that her momma wasn't her real momma... Nightingalecry had been murdered right in front of them. Now she was up in those stars too, and they had been left here all alone, and it felt like a cruel joke. Starclan must not care about her or her siblings if this was the outcome of faith.

She was plagued by nightmares these days, though, so what else did she have to do now but look up at those wretched, cold stars? At least she might be able to believe that Nightingalecry was looking down on her now. The quiet chatter of the warriors nearby pulled her attention away from the skies, and she watched them carefully for a few moments but said nothing to join their conversation. Words were as useless to her now as the stars above them. Though she did not move away, either, and found their presence to be oddly comforting. Dimmingsun was familiar to her but the other tom, Cricketcry, she couldn't remember ever speaking to. The kitten rested her head sleepily upon her paws, finding their voices soft as a lullaby.

---

‎‎ooc ♡ info

• 
  

  

• MIDNIGHTKIT ✦ she / her, kitten of windclan, 6 moons
  ⭃ short-hair black tabby with low-white, vitiligo and blue eyes. petite and fragile.
  ⭃ hollowcreek x harbingermoon // littermate to whitekit and grasskit // abandoned at birth
  ⭃ adopted by nightingalecry // adopted sister to frightkit, witherkit and deathkit
  ⭃ single, too young for relationships // mentored by no one // mentor to no one
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted // underline and tag when attacking.
  ⭃ penned by limerence ↛ @limericks. on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[Cricketcry]

{𓆧} Cricketcry's attention was stolen away from Dimmingsun when a faint scent wafts into his nostrils. He inhales the scent and then turns his head slightly. He smells the sweet scent of the nursery and soon after his notable eyes rests upon a black and white fuzz. His contemplative expression softens when he lays eyes on Midnightkit and his nearly permanent frown disappeared. The tortoiseshell muses, "I do not believe we have met before." Cricketcry avoided the nursery, as if his life depended upon it. Kits, and Queens especially, makes him slightly nervous, but something about the kitten's sleepy demeanor softened his opinion. He reaches a forepaw out from beneath his chest and he pats the sand besides himself, inviting the kit over. "I am Cricketcry, and you are?" He flicks his paw and then pulls it back beneath himself. He glances quickly upwards at the darkening sky and clicked his tongue, wondering why a kit was out of the nursery during this time, but then shrugged-- he was not its father, and frankly, he understands better than anyone the need to not be confined within a den. Perhaps this little kit could not sleep, and who was he to judge her?

WHITE NOISE, ~ WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND ~

• ——
  
• CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan 𓆧
  𓆧 AMAB / he/they / 28 ☾
  𓆧 petite, reclusive, timid, loves bugs, ((wip))

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