FROGGY CHAIR 𓇼 LILY PAD

[shellpaw]

swimming was a relative ease for the girl. comparatively, it was the thing she'd most training in ; while her lungs had struggled to keep up with her rapid doggy paddle, with time, she had discovered a gliding pace that made taking to the waves far more manageable. in it she finds a carapace, a deep relaxation in the way water rivulets over her shoulders, dampening the outer layer of her coat before drenching deep to the skin. the evening grows dim and she is settled upon the shore with eyes narrowed against the sun's fading gold. alabaster fur tinged citrusy warm, she eases into the water with a few long strides before gasping a breath, and dipping nose first where the pebbled soil dips low. the short fur of her face halos, tangles like tendrils of reed at puffed cheeks and for the briefest moment, she feels home.

bathed in the haze of orange glow permeating the paperthin lids drawn taut over her eyes, the swirling sound of aquatic life and fuzzy swaying moss travelling on thick waterwaves. she feels packed with cotton, thick in the head with something other than, far more pleasant than persistent sickness. her nose twitches, the beginning coil of discomfort growing beneath her ribs and she waits, waits, waits until it kindles a fire in her chest before tender paws are kicking off the ground and back upwards in the vague direction of rivers surface. the tide parts with a splashed and -- everything is dark. everything is dark, and there is a weight on her head she cant quite explain. paddling paw lifts to scuff at her face, feeling plant life, tearing it aside to reveal a single amber eye before greenery plasters to her skull again with a wet splat.

a lily pad. a lily pad is on my head.

shellpaw huffs, stills herself by pressing hind paws to the pebbled soil, readying herself to shake it away. her maw opens to complain to the cats wandering the shore, riverclanners lounging waterside at the end of a winding day, but instead of her voice.. something else comes out. a deep, whooping croak ; she freezes. wait.. her throat clicks on a careful swallow, frantic eyes flit to the closest cat. did this count as a catch? could be more freshkill for the pile, either way.. ” hey — hey, is there something, uh.. “ she gestures vaguely towards her skull where, indeed, a single frog is firmly perched ; fat and happy, beady eyes blinking off - timed in the hazy greenleaf air, ” help. “

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

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  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENSTAR ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

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[eveningpaw]

☁

Natural permission of exploring the lands outside of camp's bounds given to apprentices is, by far, the best part about the whole thing. Eveningpaw is sure of it; being trained to fight and hunt is all in good fun, but she's been practicing that already with what limited resources a kitten has. Stray leaves can be just as wiggly and unwilling to stand still as any fish. So, of course she takes advantage of lack of punishment that would come with being outside; she isn't alone and she is very much capable of looking after herself now.

Her horizons expand — and Eveningpaw gets to swim in a different body of water. Who knew such a simple change of scenery could paint such a familiar activity in even better light?

Shellpaw has a head start on her. That just comes with the privilege of being a few moons older, of having been apprenticed before Eveningpaw — and even that gap takes the sickly sister's delay into account —, of having been trained by RiverClan's best. For what it's worth, Eveningpaw does not lag behind much. Her love for the water has never made swimming anything particularly daunting or difficult, so she easily traces rippling patterns onto the surface, circular shapes that surround Shellpaw's dipping form.

That soft (but now positively drenched) fur appears again in a whirlpool. "Shellpaw?" With how well she's been doing, Eveningpaw sometimes forgets the illness that ails her... something that sounds impossible on paper, but it simply proves stubborn resilience in that little body.

The water calms again, and Eveningpaw finally sees Shellpaw- or would, if it wasn't for the heavy greenery atop the gentle plush of her head. Eveningpaw indulges in the series of laughter that booms from her chest without restraint, joyous in its rhythm. One amber eye is freed; a fashion statement for the ages.

"Hold still, I got this!" Eveningpaw forces herself to quiet down and deal with the situation at hand. Liquid sloshes at the bank as she bounces out, turning swiftly on her axis to face the back of Shellpaw — and in turn, the back of that happy frog, too. Lack of many hunting lessons means she fumbles with the rules and the basics, but there is obvious confidence in the way she shakes the rump and tail that's reaching skyward in her efforts.

Her jump is not graceful and definitely not quiet.

Eveningpaw breaks the surface of the water in a grand show, waves spraying from where her body hits it- and the ferocity of its answer makes her face flinch back, eyes squinting against the onslaught of droplets. She touches Shellpaw too... somewhere, though with everything blinding her vision, it's impossible to tell if she manages to catch the frog, or just the poor, idle form of her sister.
​

 

[swirldance ✶]

There's something fairly amusing about the way new apprentices act the moment they're released from the binds of their queens. They acted not too differently from himself, truthfully, wrangling their freedoms like ornery cattle and refusing to pause and think about the direction all that blind herding was taking them.

These kits seemed all right, though, for the most part. Swirldance couldn't imagine it was even possible being misguided under the expectation of a leader, and while Eveningpaw shared her mentor with a littermate, they had double the time in the nursery than she had to get their act together.

Still, it appeared there was nothing to prevent the shocking surprise of discovery that they held. Shellpaw's dive into the river had introduced her to the sneaky risk of getting caught under a drifting lilypad. Only this one came with the attendance of prey, a frog, perhaps something more of Splashpaw's caliber to catch.

Help. The shudder-breathed kit called, and Swirldance watch in enlightened amusement as Eveningpaw came in to her blundering rescue. Of course the moment of elated laughter lasted only as long as she could exhale before something splat across her face. Slimy and bumpy and- ew, its the frog!

"Ah, get it off! Get it off!" Swirldance stumbled left and right, clumsy gait desperately trying to shake its grip from her fur.

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅✶⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• swirldance ✩ all pronouns, warrior of riverclan, twenty moons
  ⭃ lh blue/cream tobie w/ high white blue eyes. wobbly cat syndrome. loyal to riverclan, faithful to starclan.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by gonkpilled ↛ @gonkpilled on discord, feel free to @ me for plots!
  

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[herondawn]

❝ NIGHT ENDED THE FIGHT ✧°.☀ ————————————
Warm summer days spent by the bank of his clan's river were some of the quieter days at camp. Cats dozed in the rays of the sun and even the birds seemed to respect the peace and quiet. Herondawn sat comfortably away from the sharing tongues sessions that littered the riverbank. Their quiet murmuring and contented purrs soothed him to the point of making his eyelids grow heavy.

Ah, get it off! Get it off!

Swirldance's voice, shrill with surprise jolted him from rest. The blue tom sprang to his feet and hustled to his sibling's side to see what was the matter.

A frog. A frog was the cat's worry. His gold eyes flick to Eveningpaw and Shellpaw to see a similarly silly sight. A lilypad hung limply in the water next to the soggy apprentices. Now what had he missed here?

A warm, quiet purr came from Herondawn's throat as he watched his sibling try to shake the adamant amphibian. It held on with sticky front feet, and its hind legs swung wildly with Swirldance's movements. The atom trotted closer and laid his tail on his sibling's flank until she calmed down.

Once she had settled, Herondawn shooed the frog from her pelt and it began to graciously hop back to the river water. "Are you three alright?" He asked, a chuckle hidden in his tone.

[penned by muddly - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BUT THE SONG REMAINED ❞ ​

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[FERNGILL]

Thrashing and splashing echoed thruogh the clearing- blazing bright, Ferngill streaked close to the scene, the gilden light of evening slaloming through the strands of his pelt and setting him alight. A single eye of verdant green watched the scene, Eveningpaw having unceremoniously thrown herself into the depths, sending spindrifts- and a frog, apparently- rushing straight into Swirldance's face. What left Herondawn's mouth was exactly what Ferngill had been thinking... but no one seemed to be clawing for help.

A solitary gaze followed the frog as it began to retreat... they weren't Shadowclanners. It probably wasn't worth the trouble.

"You'll be one of our best divers in a few moons, Eveningpaw," Ferngill called, both humour and earnestness in his voice. A green eye sparkled with enthusiasm- wow, that sort of tenacity would forge a wonderful warrior! Even if her technique wasn't quite there yet. He offered Swirldance a quick smile, a check up-and-down, before a single eye found Shellpaw peeking out of the depths.

Pale amber eyes peeked out of the water. "Are you going to keep that lily pad, Shellpaw? It suits you."​

✦ penned by pin ✦​