camp heimurinn myndi ljóma [🌧️] playing in the snow

[THUNDERSONG]

Snow. Though the land was flat and the foliage fuller - nothing like the hardy, scraggly roots and bristles that clung to the rocky cliffsides of her birthplace - the snow had made WindClan almost seem familiar the first season she had toiled under Sootstar. When the moors were white, hilly due to the snow-drift, pristine, hiding the heather and rye that covered the flat-lands, that was when Thundersong found herself the happiest.

It was a ridiculous thing, finding a cat her age giddy at the very notion of snow, but those of the mountains were an interesting bunch and she would not apologize for it. So, as soon as the last snowflake settled a-top the Tallrock, Thundersong was out in the clearing, her tail fwipping to-and-fro in excitement. She snuffled at the icy blanket and hopped around the best her old joints allowed, a rare, joyful dance that invited company and union. Old cats like her often had little energy for such things, but today... today felt right for a zoom.

"Saett barn," the large woman called out to a much smaller, paler form. "Do join me, the cold is good for your lungs - invigorates." The bear-woman gave a hearty laugh as she barreled back into the snow, playful as a kit fresh out of the nursery.

@whitedawn + but open to all ! speech is in #825f87​

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[CRICKETKIT]

Snow - Leafbare - is the first season that Cricketkit is aware of for his home. WindClan under this pale, white blanket that makes the pelts of the cats who skitter across the top of it stand out even brighter, like sunshine.

While the rest of the kittens had certainly been playing a lot of moss ball, a lot of play fighting, and a lot of other little games, Cricketkit, at least, had certainly missed out on a lot of the other games just brimming with potential here. That being said, Thundersong wasn't talking to him immediately when the invitation gets proposed, but he finds himself gingerly padding towards the elder anyway.

Which also means he's trying to put on his best manners, because the last thing he wants to do is annoy Thundersong and be told no. "Ooh, can I play too? Please!" But it's hard too, because his paws are already tip-tapping excitedly where he's trying to get himself to sit, eager to jump in and play too. He won't be able to stay sitting still very long at all- he's already rising, ready to pounce.​

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[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — If there was one thing that leafbare had going for it in spite of all the suffering that it often brought about, it was that it was a beautiful season above all else. There was an almost magical quality to seeing the moors blanketed in snow, and Rattleheart found that he could appreciate it even as he cringed away from the chill that it brought with it. They had been, at the very least, valiantly fighting against the cold so far - taking advantage of what protection the barn had offered, and making dens of snow when it was deemed necessary. Yet the tunneler found himself eager for the coming warmth of newleaf on the horizon, if only so that snow would stop finding its way down into the tunnels during his frequent travels.

There was still time to enjoy the last soft gasps of a fading season, and it certainly seemed as though Thundersong intended to take advantage of it. Rattleheart wasn't sure the last time he had seen a cat so advanced in age hopping about in such a way, and it was enough to bring a grin to his muzzle as he padded along after Cricketkit. Although he similarly wasn't the one that the senior warrior had called out to, he was in high spirits and wouldn't mind the company - plus he'd been trying to keep an eye on the little ones that had been unceremoniously shoved at them over their border. "I hope you won't mind another face joining in for a while. Might as well enjoy the snow before it's gone again, right?" He dragged a paw lightly through the crowded collection of white before him, chuckling a bit at how half of his pelt practically disappeared into it until the snow - or his fur - was dirtied.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

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• 
  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 48 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

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[Bearflight]

—————————————————————⊰𓇻⊱————————————————————

Pale paws pressed on the cold ground, he raised one to examine the paw print he had left and set it back down again to press more firmly. The second mark was much more distinct, smooth, a clean impression of his large foot upon the ground that would be swept away by the wind, the falling snow still trickling or a clanmates tail swishing idly. Perfection was never something that lasted forever, in time everything eventually gave way to its faults.
He smiled to Whitedawn and then a lighter dip of his head to Cricketkit as he ambled forward to watch as Rattleheart vanished within the soft down as well.

His blue gaze flits to Thundersong, an odd name for a WindClan cat but in that regard he'd never met one with Wind in their name as well. The closest to clan pretentiousness he had seen was Soostar's son echoing her own name like a distant cry. He couldn't imagine naming a cat after yourself, it reeked of ego. "What is...sneet burn?" Bearpaw's lips curl and his tongue flicks as he makes a valiant effort to report the odd words he had no understanding of. Then again, he also used words unfamiliar to his clanmates in repetition to his parents - Wolfsong had been ðir since he was a kitten, even now he found himself using it despite himself; his parents deserved to be recognized by their names proper, this he knew, Sunstar especially now given he had been graced with StarClan's blessing...but he often fell back on his youthful habits even now. It was relief having to relearn a name, if he had returned as Sunstride still then what would have become of WindClan he wondered? Would they be cast like dust motes scattered across the moors or would they rise stalwart and continue on; lives be damned? The chocolate apprentice wasn't sure, he was glad he only needed to muse uncertainty rather than face a terrifying truth.

𓇻 ——— Red fell the stone from his hand, O Lord 𓇻 ————— 'round and 'round again

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  Bearpaw
  —⊰⋅ Apprentice of WindClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Chocolate Rosette Tabby w/blue eyes.
  

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