everything nice [ intro ]

[pumpkinpaw.]

Theres a tail swish as the tortie enters the camp alongside the warriors that had taken her out, prancing by their side with a mouse held in her jaws. Its not much, but its honest work, and something Pumpkin was insanely proud of. Providing for the clan, its a simple duty that she had passed down to her by her parents, all the way back from when the marsh group roamed. She had been just a baby during the great battle, but since that day she had vowed to do anything to protect them (all while living happily, of course).

"Hi there!" her chirp greets the next cat that walks by her, her lips forming a gentle smile as she drops the mouse on to the pile. "Have you seen the leaves? They're so pretty." cacophony of oranges, yellows and reds, she does not voice her jealousy that the other clans get more of it due to their pine trees.
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"speech"​

 

[HEMLOCKSIGHT]

"Hrm?" Hemlock looked over at Pumpkinpaw with a side-eyed stare, at first unsure how to address her words and inquiry. The tom let his icy stare drift towards that of the leaves in question, a melody of auburn and oranges giving splashes of colour to the usually drab pine forest. It stands in stark contrast to their world but he does not find the same level of magic as what some others might do. "I suppose. Maybe you should catch a few and decorate the camp with them." He meant it as a joke, but he knowing the clan some would take that up as being a wonderful idea.
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[FLICKERFIRE]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Flickerfire trails behind Hemlocksight and Pumpkinpaw, listening with a half-trained ear as her thoughts wander. She hears the kid mention leaves turning, and she falls into step beside the other two into camp. "We don't get as many here as they do in ThunderClan," she says idly, casually. "The ones on top of the piles are nice and dry and crunchy, but the ones under that're wetter'n a RiverClan cat. Nasty."

She turns her attention to Hemlocksight and quirks her brow. "Nature decorates with 'em so we don't have to," she says dismissively. Decorating. What an idea. "We should decorate with bones and stuff instead. Scare any rogues who get too close."

- ,,​

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[Frostbite]

Frostbite idly listened to Pumpkinpaw and his clanmates talk about the leaves. The trees on the other side of the thunderpath we're much more brilliant than theirs, but he wasn't envious. He prefers the marsh.

He listens to Flickerfire and rolls his eyes. "Oh, don't be so boring....A little color around here might lighten everyone up. Besides.  We scare the rogues away."

Scaring rogues away was fun.

He rises from where he lay and strides over.

"Good catch, by the way." He says to Pumpkinpaw.
​

 

[pumpkinpaw.]

So much chatter comes all of the sudden, which makes Pumpkin smile softly, the grin sitting lovingly. "You know me, they call me the best leaf collector in the Clans." she jests lightly, nodding at Hemlocks idea. Since she had been a wee little kit besides her mothers stomach, she passed the time waiting for her fathers return with dressing up her mother. Perhaps she could put those skills to work again, yes, yes, yes, make Shadowclan all pretty, all in a days work!

Flicker and Frost speak next, with Flicker talking about decorating with bones instead and it does genuinely make her think. "I think that would be cool. Bones are cool." she nods with genuine enthusiasm. "You're right! I'd beat up a rouge. Couldn't mess with us, nuh uh." she giggles. Her face heats up at the compliment Frost sends her way, a bashful air emitting from her as she shies away. "Thank you, not my best, but its something!"
​

"speech"​

 

[MINKPAW]

"Nuh-no-one, no-one, cuh-callsss you, you the-that," Minkpaw retorts, trailing after the others, with an involuntary jerk of his head. The muscles in his neck spasm for a heartbeat, before they relax. "I, I cuh-could cuh-col-lect mmm... more, lee-eavesss the-than, the-than you." There's an impish gleam in his eyes, nose wrinkling. He doesn't really give a shit about collecting leaves... But, it's fun to mess with others! Seeing them get all worked up, it's funny.

At the mention of collecting bones, his front paws thump against the ground as he lets out an excited trill. "Oh! Oh! Tuh-tee-eeth! Tuh-" Minkpaw's jaw tightens, his teeth clicking together repetitively for a couple of seconds, and then he regains control. "Tuh, Tuh-tee-eeth are, are cuh-coo-ool! Cuh-coo-ooler, cuh-coo-ooler the-than lee-eavesss!" He nods affirmatively, tail curling and uncurling over his back.

As Pumpkinpaw declares that she could beat up a rogue, Minkpaw snorts. "Oh, really, really? Prove, prove it the-then!" Minkpaw's lip curls and uncurls. "I, I'll fff-feh-find you, you a ro... ro..." His hind leg kicks against the dirt in frustration. Stupid words! Why wouldn't they work?! "Stuh-stran-stranger! And, and, the-then I'll mm-make you, mm-make you fff-feh-fight! Tuh, tuh-to the-the death! Death!"​

 

[GHOSTPAW]

Ghostpaw listens to what flicker says with a wide gaze - more than usual. That's - that's why the leaves were falling? They tried to make everything... pretty? That... makes sense. Slowly, he nods, making sure to... to remember that. Geckoscreech would be... she'll be so impressed that he knows. Though... though he's not sure what to think when Frostbite says they scare the rogues away. Would he have to pass a test? A rogue scaring test? He didn't know how to be scary. His claws were dull and his fur... wasn't.

No one calls you that, "I can call you that," he offers helpfully, looking at pumpkin. "Um, best collector in all the clans..." He looks to the older warriors. He was doing good, right? They... they'd tell him... and he looks to Minkpaw again. Minkpaw... says spooky things! "To... to the death? Oh no..." he shoots Pumpkinpaw an apologetic look, her fate apparently decided by Mink and Mink alone. "Bye... bye pumpkin, who's... who's going to get her things? Can I have something...?"​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

TO FAR AWAY TO HOLD ME​

siltpaw | 04 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally easy | attack in bold #ddadaf​

---

Silt watches the group enter camp with envy - conversation seems to flow so easy for the others - she never feels as though she has much to say, let alone that she can or should say it. Trailing over hesitantly, the dust-hued molly pauses on the outskirts, a little closer to ghost than the rest if only out of a vague sense of familiarity, gaze flicking to her mentor only briefly before wandering once more. Mouth parts briefly - she should say something, shouldn't she - bu then the moments over and she closes it silently. She never knows what to say, so she'll simply tag along for as long as they'll allow her.