camp for you i risk it all ;; panicking

[Fireflyglow]

// this is during the heavy winds! lol. 300 post girlies.

Fireflypaw is barely able to stand with how harsh these winds are, easily pushing his massive body over and over until he just gives up and lays there on the ground. He wants so eagerly to check in on Orangeblossom, but knows that his worrying will only irritate her more than these winds do. He sits crouched beneath a tree as the winds buffet against his face, fur tangling and sending stray shedding to and fro. The sky above rumbles angrily, Mother's voice echoing in the wind that whipped against his face. His eyes are shut tight, fur fluffed up as he takes an unsteady step forward.

"Somethings wro~ng." He hums to himself anxiously, tail whipping behind him. "Something's ve~ry wrong." He doesn't want to cause mass panic, but the wild look in his eyes as he opens them makes it hard not to. Dawnglare's warning is fresh on his brain. Mother's wrath. He wants to run away, to hide away in the medicine den until things end. But he knows it's not good to do so. He settles for pacing in the wind instead, letting the buffets of air keep him chained to more helpful thoughts.

Like, how this wind will help clear away some vegetation.. It'll help with herbs, won't it? Ah..​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Auburnflame]

A brooding sky lay overhead of them all, clouds clumped together and heavy where no sunlight could peak through. Auburnflame, like Fireflypaw, is quite anxious about it all. What was this? What could it mean for them? In his life, he's witnessed more than one brewing storm and in time all things pass over. But this? This had to be the worst he's seen in his life. The towering pines above them swayed and creaked, pine nettle forced from their branches and sharp like needles as they collided on his skin. He has to dig ivory claws into the soil beneath him to anchor down to keep from feeling as if he's going to be swept away with all the leaf litter. Mint hues squint as he faces the buffeting wind, it's whistle grating his mismatched ears and he makes his way to the medicine apprentice. Even with his still growing form, Fireflypaw who was a mirror of a hulking frame like his father still had trouble.
"Hey!" The warrior calls over the harsh wind, a small smile curling his pink lips as he quite clumsily makes his way towards the hunkered down tom. "Quite a breath of fresh air, yeah?" He attempts to joke, but his humor is light and within icy green depths lay a darkness of worry. Something wasn't right. Though he knew nothing of the Mother, he couldn't help but to think that maybe—just maybe, this wasn't some regular storm. There was something omnious about it that had the warrior on edge, albeit it never shows upon his face. He has to keep a positive attitude, even if it was a bit more forced than normal.


​

[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​

 

[Talonflame]

( PRETEND THAT YOU NEVER WENT TO SCHOOL )

Talon wasn't keen on windy weather, and his lithe frame certainly made the job of standing more than a little difficult. If anyone intended to drag him out on a patrol then they could go jump in the river because he wasn't going anywhere! Though as he struggled through the camp he took note that others weren't dealing with the storm quite so well. He struggles his way towards Fireflypaw and Auburnflame and makes an attempt to dip his head to them, which turned into something more akin to that of a stumble. After recovering himself he then peered at the pair through squinted eyes. "We should hole up somewhere and just sleep until its over if ya ask me. Not gonna lie but I'm missin' the security of twolegplace with their sturdy dens. They're real sheltered against winds like this."​

( BUT STILL, YOU'LL NEVER GET IT RIGHT )

 

[browniepaw]

"Hehe, I get it!" comes Brownie's trill as they pad over, slight concern in blue eyes as they gaze upon Fireflypaw's form. Whats got the medicine apprentice so wound up? It was just wind... Did he know something they didn't? Brownie sits as they flicker their glance between Auburn and Talon as the others speak, nodding along with them. "Maybe if I jump, it'll carry me away like a bird!" their form lights up, sits up straighter and ears perk in slight excitement. That way they could be like a bird! Or maybe they'll get caught in a tree, and then they could have the record for the highest height climbed!

"You can say that again," they mew to Talon's musings about the twoleg dens, another nod. "But if my twoleg let me out today, then there surely can't be nothing to worry about." but maybe there was, because Browniepaw was being extra annoying today with meowing at the porch door, and they talked to Oceandust through their door before coming to camp. Their poor mentor was trapped inside, unable to get out because her twolegs wouldn't open the door. Unfortunate! "We'll be okay, nothing that we haven't weathered before!" they puff out their cheeks idly, looking towards the sky. They are pretty big clouds... They dig their claws in to keep themselves grounded to the earth below.​

"speech"​

 

[SLATESNARL]

❪ TAGS ❫ — "You're tellin' me." Slate grumbles in response to Talon's comments about the twolegplace, for once willingly making his presence known. As much as the former rogue despised twolegs and their selfish, confusing behaviors, they built immovable structures and nests to house themselves in. They somehow managed to source gigantic slabs of rock and shape them in an odd, geometric fashion in order to create spaces that braved even the most extreme weather.

He gives a side glance toward the bubbly Browniepaw, irritation welling in his gut at the display of positivity when they could damn well just hide in their twoleg's nest instead. The full-time clan cats, however, did not have that option.

The Maine Coon winced as a particularly strong gust barreled through camp, flattening his ear and ducking away from the path of flying leaves and dirt. "Never seen winds this strong before." Heavy rainfall was different; not one drop of rain has even descended from the clouds and yet the wind was blowing stronger than the biggest rainstorm he'd ever experienced. "Hunkerin' down ain't exactly an option. I dunno if you've noticed, but we've got a lotta' mouths to feed." The gruff lead warrior says in response to Talon's suggestion. Hiding away might have been an option on the streets, but if SkyClan ceased their day-to-day operations then everyone would go hungry. It didn't help that prey was becoming more scarce as a result of the high winds.

Slate suddenly turned his head and sneezed. All of this stuff floating in the wind surely wasn't doing his nose a whole lot of good. "Just deal with it. Keep the kits inside; might never see 'em again otherwise." Their bodies, practically weightless, would be carried away like a feather on a breeze.

Not one to stand around and chat, especially when there were better things to be doing, Slate turned away and pushed on toward the exit of camp to try and find something to catch.

// out​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Just deal with it, Slate had said- and though Twitchbolt had heard it, he changed not his behaviour because he had already been doing so. Usually so jittery and paranoid, sent into a frenzy by even the tiniest bush-rustle or trace of stale fox-scent, it was perhaps an odd sight to see Twitchbolt, fur flattened by the force of the breeze, sat relatively calmly. The wind bellowed in his ears and his tremors were as present as ever, but the smile stitched across his maw was as genuine as it could be. Haloed by a twist of leaves and dust, Twitchbolt's head was angled toward the sky. Swollen with grey and yet unyielding, the sun hidden beyond sight but pushing through the adversity to bring at least a sallow light to the ground... it thrummed with the warning signs of an approaching storm.

It would be tricky to track distant lightning given the wind's insistence on preventing them from climbing, whipping the branches about relentlessly... but Twitchbolt made a mental note to keep an ear out for even the most distant thunder in the oncoming days.

Patchwork pelt pinned against his undersized form, the warrior merely sat, his tail curled comfortably around his paws. The wind was strong, but not yet vicious and flinging. He hoped it might knock every last undesirable feeling out of him. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[GREENEYES]

Nerves have sat within Greeneyes since the wind began, but it's the sound of his friend's anxious humming that solidifies his unease.

"Something's wrong," his friend sings through shaky tones as he paces back and forth, scar-blinded eyes opening to reveal a look of distress. Something must really be wrong, for Firefly to be acting like that, right?

The sight only makes him more nervous. Greeneyes pushes through a gust of wind to make his way over to the point-marked cat, settling beneath the safety of the pine tree his friend paces nearby.

"Do you... Do you really think so?" The storm that had once struck down at the gathering sits at the forefront of his mind - was StarClan mad at them, to cause this wind? Madder? Was his mother standing above, somewhere within the madness? "What do you think it could be..?"

The wind makes it hard to hear much, but he can hear Slate's voice enter the conversation. Just deal with it, he hears the former rogue say before he departs, only causing the tom's tail to flick behind him at the dismissal.

His gaze is brought to focus on Twitchbolt instead, at the calm demeanor placed on the slightly older warrior. It's a rare sight, and it's almost as if he and Greeneyes had swapped places, isn't it? He can't help but envy him - If he could be as calm as Twitchbolt within the wind's grasp, he most definitely would. ​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The wind has picked up in a way Dawnglare cannot say he's ever seen it pick up before. The breeze beneath his coat is no longer a light sensation. It is enough to tussle it in its entirety, mass of willowy stature whipping in a way that dared to blind his very own eyes and tickle his own legs. It is inconvenient, for more reason than one. Mother's parasites were restless even tucked within their burrows. A rest within the branches was now rendered inaccessable and impossible hindered both by the wicker of his own fur and violent jostling of the branch itself. No matter how much he may wish to lounge (by himself or with another, touched gossamer white), he would be interrupted. It was annoying.

But that was all it was, so why was his dear apprentice as frayed as the flowers they plucked leaves from? Frayed as the clouds beneath a lover's moon? Frayed as a mouth full of catmint, and ears stuffed with it, too?

What the auburn - and - white one says is irrelevant. What the dark - furred one said is true. He is typically one to pay no mind to the words from dark fur and burning eyes, but his point about kittens coaxes a snickering laugh from Dawnglare's throat.

It's like there was never any mirth in his face at all, once he sees Greenpaw. (Was that still his name? He can't care enough to remember another for someone who hardly deserved one.) His blue eyes are wide and staring, suddenly unbothered by the flecks that drifted viscously through the wind. His lips are pressed thin. Divine anger is held back by a pinprick; no, whisker - wide string. It burns with the ferosity of a thousand, wide suns; but the string does not snap, flame proof as it were. Hooded eyes give view to the ground below, Her dust upon it trembling with the force of that thing.

" It's just wind, " he says, and he sits, tail tucked as neatly over his paws as it could be. What was the matter with all of them, most grown cats, caught up in such vibrant fantasies. Dawnglare sneezes.​