pafp Free Fallin' | Climbing Practice

[Auburnflame]

A flash of white and crimson splotches, an array of powerful limbs that bunch and tighten beneath a disheveled coat. He moves freely through the forest, careless—free. It's as if the very wind carried his mismatched paws, a blinding smile pinching the very apples of his cheeks as he raced through the forest as if he had been captured and set out finally. Auburnflame had copious amounts of energy to burn, a necessity to propel himself across the nettle-laiden clearing as the kicked up in his wake. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to sprint to his heart's content, but the warrior did not question it. The camp had become tense, near insufferable and he needed to get out and just let loose.
A thick trunk of rough bark lay just ahead, near as wide as he was tall with thick boughs that tempted him to just run for it. His helm lowers, dilated moons constricting to then slits as he focuses. It neared, closer and closer until finally—in a swift motion, he surges upwards eith as much power as he can muster. In a moment's notice, now he's suspended in the air as he soars. He hears nothing but the distant birdsong and the drumming of his own heart from the thrill, and he relishes in it. Curved, ivory claws meet the bark and anchor him in, thr tom takes no time before he's climbing—higher, higher he goes. To the top, he wants. He wishes to see an open sky, to have the valiant rays if the sun beaming upon his features and warming his body. He wants to see soft blues, clouds of white. A brief nostalgic feeling of freedom, with no worries in the world. He takes little thought as his body moves, as if it was built for these very trees. Greenery flows around the brim of his vision, a spanse of sky growing closer. Soon—soon. As the boughs grow more thin, he lacks the trepidation and account that some branches may not hold his weight. But he doesn't care, all he wants to do is ascend to the very Heavens upon them. They creak and bend, and somehow—somehow they do not break under his light steps.
As if the stars guide his law steps, he finally makes it as high as he could muster. The world below him seems so small now, so meager to the sky in comparison. He wonders, a brief thought—about the world that has gone unexplored beyond their stretch of territory. He wonders of the adventure, the dangers, anything. What was it like? A hefty sigh leaves him now, an attempt to calm his roaring heart and steady the panted breaths that leave him. "Absolutely beautiful..." A plumed tail practically curls over his back in awe.
It is when a voice, hardly heard over the roar of the wind, does he break his daze to look down. He spots a white apparition, paws cloaked in shadow and a perpetual grin. Mallowlark? His head cocks, one ear aimed more towards the ground in effort to get a better grasp on what the tom was shouting. "Whaat?!" He calls down, hoping he'll repeat himself.

// THIS IS BEYOND LATE AND DO NOT FEEL TJE NEED TO MATCH THE LENGTH. Had a lot of muse for this LOL

But please wait for @MALLOWLARK !

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[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

He stared up at what he first thought must be a blood-splotched ghost, unnaturally high in the trees... someone who died there moons and moons ago, immortalised! It could be, at last, some connection to the same whispering bones his mate heard and saw... but his mind did not wander too far down that path, for he soon recognised the face. Auburnflame, ichor-and-snow cradled in pine-needles... nothing but a speck, up there!

Scaling the trees was something Mallowlark had been striving for- though, blessed by whatever had crafted him with a frame larger than most, hauling his weight around often bird-bone brittle branches was not the easiest thing to learn. Oh, he could run! But running was o use when slaloming through the pines, most meals hidden within the trees' needles.

"I said," he called, grin framing his words with signature brightness, silver eyes impossibly wide despite the breeze that kissed his eyeballs. "How'd you do that?!" His tone lifted loud, projected as far as he could manage- oh, if only he could leap all the way up there! It'd make the conversation easier... and they couldn't do visa-versa, could they? Auburnflame might break a few bones...​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He is no stranger to scaling trunks. As a kit, he's been climbing, setting expeditions for tall picket fences and the smattering of twoleg structures the fools had thought could contain him. Then - Valentine had scaled them within a day, sticking claws where they would fit and heaving himself atop rows of weavings; shouting triumphant when he scaled the top. Ending up in this forest, it was easier to distract from the chance when he could still climb as he always had. Now the bark was deep brown, rather than tawny– or nothing at all, the whole of its color stripped clean by twoleg paws. The sun was no longer something he has to screech and yearn for. It was readily available– how, more than ever before the cold struck them.

Parasites they be, but he easily took to lounging whenever he needed a space away from chittering tongues and irate faces. Slipping atop the tree branches; climbing to the highest most precarious points, though... The reasoning was lost on him. Something foolish, he presumes. Mallowlark had spotted the ruddied - white blur before he had, screeching to someone he ought not to screech to– but Dawnglare did not tell him that. He only follows his eye, sky - bright, rather than gloomy like those beside him.

Of course, he could slip through the branches just as well. He simply did not see the point.

As Mallowlark calls out, eyes bright, though; Dawnglare is suddenly compelled to mention this fact. Mulling it over within his skull, he croons. " Oh, you came from such sad, treeless land, didn't you? " he asks, squinting past the sun that threatened to blind him as it oh - so - loved to do. Not that being treeless was inherently sad, but if you ought to be covered in senseless gnats either way, you ought to be scaleable. His opinion on this SkyClanner in particular is hardly one, so he does not say a thing yet, though a feathered tail would come to brush along sooty paws, perhaps reminding Mallowlark that he was there.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: —

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[Auburnflame]

Curiosity edges him to lean more downwards, perhaps more than he should given the circumstances. Boughs did not grow hefty enough at his vantage point, they could not bear his weight if he shifted too much. He feels it trembling, pushing to a point of wanting to snap and suddenly Auburnflame tenses. He needed to descend to more stable ground lest he fall from such a height—a height that would easily send him to death, waking up to star aligned lands with no hopes of return. Crimson patched paws move slowly towards the thinning trunk of the mighty pine, curved talons breaching it's surface for anchorage. Mallowlark's voice calls down below, a faint echo amongst the trees but he catches wind of it finally. "Ooooh!" He calls down to the soot dipped tom, nodding his head in understanding. He wants to know how he's able to climb so high, seasons worth of training and knowledge—knowledge he's more than happy to share. Unbeknownst to him, a sepia and white figure would also be perched next to his betrothed, glacial eyes looking to his mere silhouette against the sun's rays as he makes a careful descent.

He moves slowly downward, carefully testing his weight against each branch until they grow more thick of mahogany bark, hardy and strong—it is then that his own rapidly beating heart slows. Once he finally reaches the bottom, a safe nook between two limbs does he leap to the ground, quelling the trembling of his tail he didn't realize he had until he was safe on the forest floor. He hadn't caught what Dawnglare had murmured to him, but he looks to the healer with a grin. "Hey, Dawnglare." He trills, shaking bits of green neetle from his tousled coat. "Climbing takes a lot of practice, you have to learn where your claws can anchor in and bear your weight—or else'll come tumbling down." He had multiple old bruises, long since healed but he remembers them greatly. The air that can knock out of you when slamming against the forest floor, as if your very life tried to leave your body. The thought causes him to sudder. "Every cat can climb to some degree. Building up the endurance for it is the first step." A crimson tail beckons to thr gnarled trunk of the pine, "Why don't you give it a go? I can give you pointers. Just find a spot and dig your claws in as far as you can."

​

[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Out in the wilderness, Silversmoke hadn't been intending to stumble upon Auburnflame and the two traitors. He'd looked up to the skies above and swore he saw a squirrel gliding between the trees, taking but a second to recognise the figure as his friend. At that moment, he wished to join the other amidst the canopy and take a break from the ridiculous cacophony of noise on the ground. The tabby's posture relaxed immediately, even as he became aware of Mallowlark and Dawnglare's presence, an ever-existing curse against what it meant to be a SkyClanner. He moved without giving thought to his paws, latching onto the closest possible tree and feeling his claws rip downwards through the bark as he struggled to support his own weight. Stories about cats much bigger and meaner than him did seldom little to help the Lead Warrior, who felt himself slipping further and further down the trunk with each attempt to find his grip again. Shame burning in his ears, Silversmoke eventually gave up, kicking away from the tree and landing with four paws on the ground, already anticipating the laughter from his beloved.

They both knew he could climb, he'd done so when WindClan and the Twolegs had invaded and were likely to do so again in the future - it was just an inconsistent skill. Had there been an excuse for it, he'd have said it a thousand times if it meant not having to face the truth: sometimes it didn't matter how much you practiced, there were some things you would never be good at. "Just because every cat can climb, doesn't mean they should." Silversmoke smiled, seemingly to himself, then remembered the company closest to him, cleared his throat and looked to the foliage. It wasn't a diversion that lasted long and, soon enough, the Lead Warrior's attention snuck back towards Auburnflame, face angled away from the other couple present as he tried to hide his affection. "Mallowlark has no reason to be a ground-dweller anymore though-" 'Not that he should learn the ways of SkyClan, either,' he grimaced to himself, the worst of his thoughts tempered by the calico's presence. Maw parting, Silversmoke called, "Teach him well!"
​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

His mate's brief touch blandished a purr from his chest, a fond noise so often coaxed from him by this one. His grin glowed sun-bright, as genuine as flesh and blood and bone. Fangs glinted- would look hungry if not for the gladness oscillating from him. As pine-needles rustled, Mallowlark nodded softly in response- though his face was unable to shift even in mock-sadness. "It was sad, 'specially after it started rotting," he hummed. As sing-song as if he was remarking on a rainbow, he spoke of the downfall of his home. The poison that had rolled in... the savages...

Attention was snagged again by Auburnflame- curiosity lit silver in his eyes, wide, wide, wide. It was a wonder his eyelids did not unpeeled and go rolling down his head- or, his eyes were not forced from their chambers. Unaware of Silversmoke's disdain for him, he simply chirped, "I'll be a good student," a giggle following his words. He wanted to learn, to do well. To be a Skyclanner, so long as he was here... it was what he'd signed up for when he'd left the remains of what he loved behind. And now- with Dawnglare watching, there was a dizzying part of him that wanted to do better than he could manage normally.

Give it a go. And so, he would. A spring with powerful muscles, the domino tom dug his claws into the trunk, managed to pull himself to the lowest branch. Given a large frame, he teetered upon that branch, the tree's limb bending a little- but, but, he managed to keep himself there. Still- his claws, his shoulders- they burned a little. "There," he said breathlessly, grinning up at Auburnflame- though, briefly his attention slipped back down to Dawnglare, to whom he called a quick, melodic "Hi!"​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Sad, it was. Dawnglare himself struggles to imagine a time where the moors were not doomed. Soot has damaged its lungs for the seasons Dawnglare has known it. Perhaps just for Mallowlark's sake, Dawnglare would believe that such a thing has ever been so. He hums noncommittedly. With no shortage of lightness, he can note the purr that met him. He hopes that he could make Mallowlark happier than any moor ever could.

The dappled tom– Auburnflame's decent is agonizingly slow, and frankly, Dawnglare does not know why they should wait for him at all. Even within Mallowlark's presence, his expression quickly dips into annoyance the longer they all age on ground - level. Dawnglare could certainly teach Mallowlark much better than this fool could. The tom notices him when at last, he touches the ground. Dawnglare looks at him like he doesn't know who he is or why he's speaking to him. " Hello, " is curtly mewed.

He is entirely not paying attention as Auburnflame prattles on as if they had not just climbed down in perhaps the most inefficient way possible. He fixes his eyes on Silversmoke instead, and perhaps, is rewarded for this with an image of the tom hardly able to make any leeway up the trunk. Dawnglare does not disguise his laugh, a perhaps far from well - meaning snort slipping out into the open.

And he's sure this one thinks himself more of a SkyClanner than he. The thought makes him want to shred something. Claws grip the ground as if he were climbing, himself.

Mallowlark has no reason to be a ground-dweller anymore though. It is a set of words perhaps more kind than he would have expected from Silversmoke. Teach him well. And Dawnglare tilts a skeptical look to Auburnflame, with no idea why he has been designated teacher. Unimpressed, Dawnglare only wets his lips.

He is not succeeding in being unbothered by Mallowlark's eagerness, but looks on regardless as he springs onto a trunk. Simple creature he can be at times, seeing his mate make it further than Silversmoke had is enough to make him smile once again. It's a start; that's what it was. Dawnglare lets his eyes turn to crescents. " And hello! "

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: these mfers sooo biased

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​