FROM THE STICKS | o, teaching weaving

Jul 8, 2022
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MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧
she has been allowed among them, but it is not anything impressive of what they have done to her lands. poorly built shelters that would not carry the weight of a heavy rain. she thinks of them as flimsy enough to fall if she were to simply breathe heavily around them. with the introduction of the first litter of riverclan, she has no choice but to show these cats how to build a proper shelter.

if anything, for the den that holds the children. there has to be more caution. her earthbound pelt appears within the center of their marked home, in her maw she carries a plentitude of suitable sticks. not anything will simply do, the delicate weave was dependent on the strength and flexibility of the branches. thankfully, it is a knowledge passed down from her river-born family. now, she must show it to land cats. she settles in the midst of their world, still feeling out of place. buckgait is what he has declared her to be called, stripped of her simple and strong name only to add to it.

it feels rough on her tongue, not like her. buck has always been something simple and regal, to offset the curse she was supposedly born as. she is not fond of it, but she could not bear to be without her kin any longer. they still needed her. there's a slight shake in her head, as if the never-ending flow of worries and thoughts could leave it. for now, she focuses on the dropped woods of the trees. her deft paws doing what comes so naturally now, the careful braid of the branches. alone they are nothing, but together they make the perfect structure to keep cats warm and dry.

"I'm only going to teach this once. you want nice dens, you need to learn how to make nice dens." it's a clear instruction of those who wish to provide a shelter for their fellow cats. she lays out an even layer of sticks for any cat who comes along. now she must simply wait for them to wander to her.


// just to make clear, buck has 'joined' in this but feel free to treat her with caution !!!
 
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Buck had joined them! She was here! Joy overfilled their chest and they felt better than they had in a few days. Suppose a good cry was all that was needed sometimes, and there was nothing wrong with that. They had been settled down under a bush and watching camp quietly with a slight smile tugging at their lips. The first litter had been born! Mudpelt and Icesparkle where such proud parents with the cutest little things at their sides! It got them thinking about their own future, would they want kits when they where older? How old did you have to be to have kits? Who would want kits with them?

Raccoon felt like they'd be a good parent, or they'd try to be. Like Buck- Buckgait- had done with them, raised them right and showed them the world. Speaking of the brown pelted she-cat they watched as she came from the reeds with sticks in her mouth, what was she doing? Curious as ever, the young cat got up from their spot beneath a fern bush and padded over to their adoptive parent, "Whatcha doin' Buck? Making walls?" Raccoon asked and settled down beside her, paws tucked under their chest and their orange eyes bright.

They already knew how to make den walls, they had been taught by the best, but they still liked to watch. Buckgait was so skilled with their paws and it was always fun to sit with her and just- talk. They felt like they haven't gotten to say much to Buckgait since she came to the clan and they missed her. Missed her wise words and the comfort she brought the young black legged cat.
 
JUST ANOTHER GIRL

Chamomile wasn't good at very much. Her fighting skills were laughable, hunting was a joke. Hell, even walking itself seemed to be a difficult task for the clumsy molly.

Because of this, the cream tabby was determined to find something that she was good at, something she could contribute to her clan. So when Buck came forward with the offer to teach a few of them how to make proper dens, she felt that this was one of those moments that she might be able to prove herself. As Raccoonpaw hurried forward to join, Chamomile was not too far behind, offering the pretty brown molly a shy smile.

"I..I would love to learn, i-if that's alright of course." She shuffled her paws as she smiled at the apprentice and willed some of their curious energy to rub off on her so that she could get through this lesson without embarrassing herself.

 
( ⚘ )Reed lifted their narrow head, ears pricked at the offer of teaching. And for weaving no less! It was a skill they only just grasped but still committed a lot of time to. The willowy feline loped over with barely contained excitement, whiskers abuzz and eyes bright. Even though this unfamiliar cat spoke with a clarity that made them nervous Reed approached close enough to get a good view.

Hastily snatching, missing half on the first pass, a small stick bundle they settled patiently. White paws wove without thought into the cluster, ready to copy. Content that they were sufficiently prepared, Reed gave Raccoon a quick blink. They had helped them learn what little they knew so far. With a slight nod to Chamomilewater, they chirped,"Me too. I'm- good to go, mhm!" Enthusiasm bled into their tone, an unusual intensity emboldening them.
( WALK 'TIL YOU'RE RESTLESS, SLEEP 'TIL YOU'RE TIRED )
 
MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧
there's a gentle grin that settles upon buck at the arrival of raccoon. she's already taught them everything, they truly had no need to be here, but she welcomes them anyhow. the earthen woman keeps herself far too busy nowadays, enough that idle chatter seems to be less and less occurring. her paws never halt or settle, there's far too much to be down. but she supposes raccoon could act as an assistant. help where buck could not. "teachin' these cats to not freeze from the first rains. you already know all this, might as well help these dolts." there's a slight tease in her voice, trying to sway the younger to join her.

she isn't so good with these cats, resentment still bites at her heart, and anger tugs at her throat. she's not one to forgive, and less so to forget. two others grab the sticks and reeds, and she offers them a blink of acknowledgment. there isn't much to say, only to concentrate on the movement of the paws and the material.

"it's simple once you get the hold of it, but you need steady and sure paws. the sticks need to be pulled taut to make sure to keep the rain out and the warmth in. if you pull too tight, it'll snap and have no give." a paw over the other, working in tandem. both paws have to be at an equal and steady pace, and the fisher moves the braid further into view. tugging the ends and letting the combined sticks to bend and pull. there must be flexibility in it, too much stress wears down the braid too quickly. "raccoon will make sure you know how to start the braid correctly." every cat needs something to do, and raccoon seemed fairly free if they were coming up to here.
 

Newly named Otterpop is unaware that Buck has been let in [though its not much of a surprise, as he could not find her as he went looking for her like usual] so when he returns home after a failed hunt, gloomy eyes light up with excitement. It was Buck! Buck in the flesh! His heart swells happily. "Buck!" he calls out happily, his face much lighter now as he trots over to join the little group she had gathered.

Shes talking about weaving and he inwardly sighs, another thing for him to mess up...! But it doesn't hurt to try... right? "You're really good at that," he squeaks out awkwardly (finally, he says something!) as he watches her paws move. Gee, her gracefulness when it came to it was really something, huh?

He blinks.

"Are there certain, er.... Sticks, we need to look for..?" an incredibly stupid question, but hes curious, i mean, some sticks could be too brittle couldnt they? Too brittle, too young, too wet, his mind races as he thinks of the best possible solution to his question.
"speech"​
 
JUST ANOTHER GIRL

Chamomilewater tried her best to follow along as closely as she could to Bucks and Raccoons' teachings. However, as per usual, the harder the cream tabby seemed the try the more disastrous her attempts became.

It was almost impressive just how strange and wonky her braids were proving to be, and she couldn't help the blush that touched her cheeks as Otterpop joined the group. Great, another clanmate to witness how horrible at this she was. Her ears would twitch as the tom piped up and asked a question she thought was quite brilliant and she looked up to give the tom a soft smile, "That's a good question! I-is there a type of twig or reed that works best for nests?"