HEARTBEAT — swimming

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Her hatred for the river hadn’t been on purpose- or even truly acknowledged after her incident. It wasn’t until she had been faced with it once again that Lakemoon- then named Azalea- realized the hold it had on her, the fear the chilled depths induced.
To her family and anyone who had been close to her, joining Riverclan was probably an ironic choice. It hadn’t been the namesake that drew the silvery warrior, it was the land. Even so, for her phobia to be so brazenly displayed in front of her clanmates when she had merely been shouldered into it was shameful, a disgrace to the warriors ego.
Lakemoon doesn’t let her breath tremble when she takes her first pawstep from the damp bank and into the water, no longer flinching when droplets spray up into her flank when cautious steps turn into a wade.
For almost a moon now she had been pushing herself further and further, only yesterday barely stopping short from the point of no return.
This morning, however, she’d give herself the final push.
Her only focus is on her breathing, a steady inhale and exhale, four times exactly.
Her fourth exhale breathes shallow ripples into the surface, quickly broken as she pushes herself off of the shore.
Lakemoon does nothing that could make herself a joke- even as a child she refused to walk in front of the colony until she had mastered her gait, a task made that much harder by the blessing of her gangly legs.
They serve her well now as she steadies herself against the gentle current, one stretching out in front of the other in a slow-motion bound.
She inhales, and sinks below the surface. The water has barely been warmed by the still-growing sun, and the chill of it twitches at the mollys whiskers.
She stays until she cannot bear it any longer, and breaks the surface with a breath already on her maw, the shake in it masked by an armored expression as she pushes herself once more back to a rocky shore.
"speech"

tags​

​

​

 

[Cindershade]

"Well done." A voice would call over to the lilac woman, a shadow perched along the shoreline with paws tucked closely to her chest. She had seen Lakemoon moving from afar, clearly alone and a certain curiosity brewed within her to follow the eloquent warrior till she was standing along the pebble-laiden shoreline. She was not aware of Lakemoon's past, whatever that may have traumatized her from the ever rippling currents of the river was a mystery. She still remembers Lakemoon falling from the sheer drop of the rocky banks father upstream, the fear and that encroached over her as she tried her best to swim. Luckily Cindershade and Pikesplash had aimed her to shallower shores where she could climb out without much effort and rest sodden muscles.
She had watched Lakemoon wade out to the river, a sapphire gaze focused and distant, unaware of the dark lead warrior that followed her to watch her face a growing fear. She seemed to be working on conquering it, and hard work pays off with time. Now, she dived under the surface, relying on her skills and pushing past that limit she once held for herself. Lakemoon was a strong warrior, and Cindershade had always respected it despite being a dry-paw. But now, as her own brush of death lingered in the back of her psyche, the rosetted woman could understand her hesitation. It wasn't something she had openly shared, not even to the duo who rescued her—and she still hunted these very waters. She'd not let her own fear keep her from feeding her clan; although she wasn't so much of a free-lancer as she used to be. Perhaps like Lakemoon, that would come back with time. But for now, she steers a respectful distance from it until she was ready. "I had not realized you had been practicing, Lakemoon. It's commendable of you. Not many can embrace their fear and conquer it like you just did. You're a strong warrior. RiverClan is most lucky to have it." Nothing seen but a silhouette upon the shoreline with glowing irises, but it is known in her voice that she is proud of her—and a rare smile presses upon black lips as she spoke.

​

[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[FERNGILL]

A drop of fire-light split through the river. Upon resuming his warrior training, Fernpaw had taken a lot of time for leisurely swims not only to keep his muscles moving but to feel as if there was still hope for his future as a warrior. He had always been a talented swimmer, natural and swift- as much as he had doubted how truly talented that made him in a clan full of swimming cats, it was becoming increasingly important for the tom to remind himself that he was truly good at something.

Fear for the river was, therefore, unfathomable to him. No prejudice lit in his tone or eyes at the sight of a cat who did not like the water, for it was common enough; but he could not imagine a life for him without swimming. What use would he be then?

The silver form of Lakemoon, pulling herself up onto the riverbank, caught his eye; and then, the lurking shadow of Cindershade. He glanced backward, ensuring he hadn't strayed too far from his hunting patrol, before drawing closer to them. Suspending himself in the water, he glanced up at them as the ripples wobbled against his fur. "How long have you been practicing?" he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone. He didn't imagine he'd be much help, but... a bit of encouragement could help.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

The pale tabby is an intimidating figure in her own right, not softened at all by her avoidance of the water. But watching Lakemoon emerge from the water, Crappiepatch feels suddenly as though the she-cat is much more frightening. Mobility both on land and in water makes any warrior a formidable fighter, and the skinny calico is glad that she is on RiverClan’s side. Still, despite the slight fear that they feel in her presence, Crappiepatch respects Lakemoon and thinks her a good warrior. And she had been holding her breath, it looks like—they think back to when they challenged Oddpaw to see who could hold their breath longer. Could Lakemoon hold her breath longer than them? They consider asking her, but then both Cindershade and Fernpaw speak up, and suddenly their curiosity seems childish. Immature.

Instead, the young warrior takes an off-balance step toward the river, unblinking gaze never leaving the she-cat. Fernpaw asks how long she has been practicing her swimming, a less serious topic than Cindershade’s praise. "How long can you hold your breath," they chime in, tail flicking with interest. Is she a worthy competitor?​

[ my my, cold hearted child ]​

​

 

[► Fluffykins.]

YOU CAN BE YOU - I CAN BE ME
oddkit | 07 months | agender | they/them/it/its | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold #ffdb58

---

Where oddpaw teedle-toddles about on land, limbs stiff and round figure wobbly, the ginger and white child has always been an impeccable swimmer - as though a fish with fur rather than a cat. Golden eyes glimmer and sparkle as they widen at lakemoons attempts, at least passingly familiar with the others distaste for the waves compared to most, as they watch from their own swimming spot, floating and bobbing freely save for the occasional churn of their limbs to keep them from drifting to far off. Most of the conversation drifts idly past their ears with little interest, until crappiepatch asks the most important question - how long can she hold her breath - and they swim closer, waiting with baited breath for the answer. Certainly, as a more experienced warrior than themselves, it must be longer than oddpaw can, and longer than crappiepatch can, right?
​

​

 

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
The call from somewhere above is surprising, but Lakemoon executes her startle with grace, lifting her head just a whisker length to find herself staring into two pools of ivy, set aglow by the shadows around the mystery warrior.
Yet, Lakemoon knows it is is Cindershade instantly, and the lead warriors praise causes a small grin to crack at the tabbies icy features.
"Thank you, Cindershade. Riverclan deserves nothing less than my best." Lakemoon replies with a small dip of her head, the others compliment enough to almost make her forget the shame that burned at her cheeks from being discovered.
The next three to pop out of the shadows is less satisfactory though, and their questions are met with a small quirk of Lakemoons brow.
She focused on Fernpaw first, "Not long." It is a smooth lie, rolling off her tongue with monotoned ease.
Crappiepatch has the silver warriors attention next, and Lakemoon flicks her ear in thought, stepping fully out of the water and fully onto a damp shore. "I’m not sure, long enough." Lakemoon answers vaguely. Oddpaw does not speak, but earns a glance from Lakemoon all the same. "How long can you three?" She throws Crappiepatch’s question back at the trio, coming to take a seat nearby Cindershade.

"speech"

tags​

​

​