camp flutter || o, butterfly

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

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Sunflowerpaw's eyes are wide and dilated, the lilac apprentice staring out from the medicine den with their muscles held tense as though preparing for a pounce they know they couldn't make. The target of their fascination flutters aimless through the air, fully oblivious of its fascinated spectator. Their eyes track it with an unprecedented intensity. It's a butterfly, a small one, with soft, rounded wings dressed in a sheen of pastel blue. It dances through the air, not heading in any particular direction, merely flitting around the heads of the WindClanners as they go about their day. Eventually, much to Sunflowerpaw's delight, it begins flying closer and closer to the medicine den, until --

The butterfly lands softly on the tip of Sunflowerpaw's nose. They freeze, stiller than they already had been, hardly daring to breathe, lest it fly away. It stays there, rested on their nose, wings moving slowly back and forth. Its legs tickle, a bit.

---

IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• // feel free to powerplay the butterfly! it does not have to stay on sunflower​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 4 moons. semiverbal.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

​

 

[✧ Marmotbite.]

CAUTION TAPE AROUND MY HEART
marmotpaw | 04 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold #9ab973

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Sunflowerpaw is not the only one eyeing the beautiful insect as though it is prey. From the moment she'd immerged from the tunnels and entered camp, the glittery thing had caught her eye - the scar covered feline creeping closer ever so slowly. But the insect lands upon sunflowerpaw - her fellow apprentice and former den mate, who'd been caught by some sort of twoleg contraption. She pauses, a frown tugging at her lips. She usually doesn't care to be polite, but it seems rather... cruel, to interrupt such a moment. To steal a toy from an injured cat just seems awful. And so she simply watches and waits, green and orange gaze glued onto the prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, tail lashing back and forth ever so slowly.

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[SHADOWRUNNER]

\╱╲I SEE A RED DOOR & I WANT IT PAINTED BLACK╱╲/​

The sight was truly beautiful, and super cute! Shadowpaw had been heading towards the medicine den with a mouse in his mouth with the intention of giving it to his sibling as a treat, but he was instead treated to the view of a butterfly sat so delicately upon Sunflowerpaw's nose. As much as he longed to get closer he knew he really shouldn't, otherwise he risked scaring the insect away. For now he was content to watch, much like Marmotpaw. Though he notices that she looks ready to strike... oh no! He edges his way towards her and he makes an attempt to block her from striking with his body.

NO COLOURS ANYMORE I WANT THEM TO TURN BLACK
╲╱╲╱╲╱​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 A cruel mentor might see Sunflowerpaw's wonderment as a weakness to stomp out. Wolfsong sees only what he has from the beginning: curiosity, and the paths it blazes. He thinks of the wing still tucked in his fur, fading from the sunlight but still beautiful, and he smiles even as Shadowpaw moves to intercept Marmotpaw's hunter's patience. He glances at them both, hoping his presence prevents any potential disagreements, before turning his attention back to his apprentice.

"My mother told me that butterflies were once the petals of flowers long lost to us, and they flit through the meadows in search of what no longer exists." His shoulders lift slightly. "She also said they might carry dreams, and that you will sleep sweetly under the blessing of a butterfly's kiss."
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[SNAILSTRIDE]

"Sheesh, how come your mother is so nice?" They look at Wolfsong as he shares his story, their tired eyes near-wide in disbelief. They were beginning to wonder if something was wrong with their own parents. Having practically disappeared from WindClan's social life and Snail and Clam's life, their legacy in the eyes of the tabby was not a strong one, but the difference in lessons was stark. It's with a new confidence they address Wolfsong, a maturity that their rank did not express. "Mine told me they're a symbol of death. You only see one when a StarClan cat is nearby and ready to take a soul up to the sky!" Their brow creased in a worry more faux then they'd like. An emotional detachment was a fine way to ensure that a betrayal like Firefang's would never happen again, but each time they caught themselves doing it, they felt themself becoming more and more like the crueler cats around them. It was a fine balance that life experience had not given them the chance to explore, all the same, they followed up their mother's lesson with one final comment. "Someone should check on Weaselclaw." Snailpaw suggested in a nervous chuckle.

Falling to silence once more, Snailpaw's attention fell back onto the fluttering creature. His smile was a sad thing - maybe physical death was not the only thing that butterflies reacted to. They didn't have the dreams that Wolfsong spoke of anymore, WindClan had taken them, killed them. To love and be loved felt like an impossible fallacy. They had Clambite, they had Peri but... they needed more. Suddenly conscious of the apprentices' youthful age, a grin split the tabby's muzzle. Their slack muscles suddenly sprung in various directions as they jumped, ensuring the butterfly wouldn't get close to them if it did ever leave the youths' side. "Eh, he's probably fine, this is definitely a dream butterfly! Look how blue it is! You think a death insect would be so pretty? Think again!"
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[SUNFLOWERMASK]

.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

---

Sunflowerpaw hardly notices their brother and Shadowpaw, too focused on staying still enough to keep the butterfly from leaving. It's only when Wolfsong speaks that their attention is caught. Petals of flowers long lost to us... It sounds wonderful, and they find themself imagining what kind of flower this butterfly must have come from. They blink slowly at the butterfly on their nose, hoping it understands their gratitude for choosing them to bless with sweet dreams.

But Snailpaw speaks of something different -- butterflies as harbingers of death. It's certainly not enough to make them doubt Wolfsong's words, but... Well, maybe they both can be right. Death is a little bit like sleeping, right? And StarClan shows up in dreams... They're certain they must be on to something there, but before they can follow the train of thought, they butterfly takes to the air again, wingtips brushing their muzzle as it does so. They watch wide-eyed as it flies back in the direction it came, absently raising their good paw to brush at the spot where it had landed.

---

IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• //​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 4 moons. semiverbal.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw arrives initially to cuff Snailpaw over the ear - an attempt that fails, given the difference in their stature. At most she pummels their shoulder with a weak swipe. Regardless, her eyebrows are furrowed and she stage whispers, "Don't say stuff like that!" to them, in regards to her father. Death is... a weird concept to her, given her limited yet brutal experience with it. Regardless she's unwilling to hear that a butterfly of all things may take the brown tabby away from them all.

She doesn't stay cross for long, seating herself and turning her attention to Sunflowerpaw. She'd been a little too late to hear Wolfsong's understanding of butterflies, or how pretty the other made it seem. At most, she now spies the blue-winged being as it takes off from her friend. The other pats their nose, as if rubbing in any promises the insect offered them. Unsure what to say initially, the young apprentice skews her gaze towards the only warrior among them - "Are all butterflies blue, like that?" She imagines them to be like birds, with the way they fly - though they aren't feathered, so perhaps the differences stretch beyond that.​