camp i ain't taking any fault — intro, entertaining the kids

B

boarpaw

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for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone — "ok, hold on just a second —" the kits had practically swarmed him when he returned to camp with his mentor, a rabbit hanging in both of their jaws. honestly, his catch had been a miracle sent to him by starclan. it hadn't been a long chase, and something had scared the rabbit practically into his paws.. but as it turned out, that thing had been a dog, and him and his mentor had had to turn tail and run. by the time he got back, he'd been tired, but the kits had demanded he give them a hill.. so he would.

his mentor had been gracious enough to take his rabbit to the freshkill pile so that boarpaw could handle the kits. you see, hill wasn't some fancy game with rules — no, it was just him settling on his haunches and lifting the kittens up and onto his shoulders so they'd slide down his back. the waay they squealed and giggled always made his day a little better. after the 7th round of letting them all slide down his back, he huffed a long breath. "are we all done now? i'm t—" there was whines and whimpers from the group, and his shoulders fell. "i guess we can go another round.."
 


The soft, excited cries of kits were enough to rouse Rattleheart from their slumber, head tucked down between their paws as the sun beat down on their back. It was a bit annoying to be woken up from their napping, but there were worse things to be woken up by - like another patrol returning in shambles. The thought made a shiver run down their spine, quickly disguised as a simple muscle twinge as they stretched out and made their way over. Watching the little ones tumble down Boarpaw's back over and over brought a smile to Rattleheart's face, along with a chuckle when they noticed the tiredness in his eyes. They supposed they could at least try and rescue the apprentice from his self-made prison.

Their long tail twitched behind them as they approached, muttering to the little ones in their best this is definitely exciting tone, "Little ones, I hear Hareswoop is trying to find whoever can show him their best practice hunting crouch. If it's a kit, he's promised a very special reward." They felt a little bad about tossing another warrior into the thorns, but Boarpaw really did look like he could use a break. It seemed to work at least a little, considering a few kits went racing off in the direction of the other tom. That left Rattleheart to turn his attention towards Boarpaw himself, grinning in the other's direction, "You really should be more careful before you say yes to their little games." The poor kits had all that energy and nothing to do with it - at least until they were eventually made into -paws.
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 
── .∘°°∘. ── The scent of dog is unmistakable. For Wolfsong, even the slightest traces are loud as a hound's braying. Most of the time, it's confined to the horseplace, where the twolegs corral the beasts, among many others. But to catch it here, within camp— it quickens his heart like the thud of a rabbit's paws against the moor-dirt, and the scars along his face ache with memory as he hunts the scent's source. He is not foolish; he knows a dog has not broken through given the relative calm, but that a cat may have come into contact with such a creature does little to soothe concerns.

He would not believe their neighbors above underhanded methods of forcing dogs onto WindClan territory.

When at last he reaches the dog-stench, it is on the pelt of an apprentice clambered on by kits, none-the-wiser to the danger woven into his pelt. Drawing in a deep breath, nose twitching, he glances briefly at Rattleheart. He seems focused on freeing the weary Boarpaw of the kittens, but Wolfsong cannot share his mirth. The last WindClan needs is another threat. "The dog," he begins, his usual rasp slightly lower in volume, "where was it? Is the beast to blame for your fatigue?" His remaining eye is fixed on Boarpaw's face.
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN ROGUE TURNED LEAD WARRIOR (MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING). 35 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC PARENTS. BIO, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge. — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know— he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel." — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you. — ☆☆☆☆☆ KITTING: He doesn't remember what it was like to be born. Coincidentally, that is the extent of his familiarity with kitting. At least he won't leave you without moral support.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you. — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
He hadn't much business with kits himself, lacking family as he did– N' otherwise, somewhat estranged from the rest of WindClan. Still, their playfulness is a thing Heathclaw watches with a fondness, head always curiously inclined towards the little things as he makes his way past. So long as their parents did not fret too much for them, they were carefree; and any problems that did make their way for them would be faced head - on– trivial matters within naive minds. Heath remembers something similar with him and his siblings, at least. The group of them would tussle dawn to dusk, hardly concerned with the nature of their nomadicness, and the struggle for food. These things changed eventually, though.

Often, cats have to grow up quicker than anyone else had even known. But for the time being, it was fine to have fun. Heathclaw's steps would drag as he nears the group. " Hope you're enjoyin' yourself as much as they are, " Heathclaw says lowly, a smile you could easily miss worn on his scarred face. Rattleheart makes a gallant effort in rescuing the apprentice. In Heathclaw's opinion, the bed Boarpaw's made is one he ought to lie in.

Not like playing with kits is some horrible thing, anywho. The threat seemingly quelled– and Heathclaw would shoo the last of the group in the direction of Hareswoop, the designated scapegoat of today, he supposes– Heathclaw would turn to Boarpaw. The guy seemed a little more beat than only playing with kits would do to someone. Heathclaw is too old a tom to not notice the scent of dog, slight as it may be. " Patrolling go okay? " he'd ask, maybe not as forward as he ought to be. It feels awkward to him. Pleasantries always did.

Wolfsong is more direct than he, though, and Heath would resign himself to being beat this time in that regard. A steady gaze to Boarpaw would communicate his wondering the same thing. Can't blame Wolfsong for being weary.

  • ooc: NINJA'D TWICE SO HOPEFULLY EVERYTHING CHECKS OUT LOL
  • HEATHCLAW: he / him; cisgender male, 45 moons. moor - runner of windclan.
    — bisexual with no clear preference. single.
    — low, rumbling voice with a noticeable, but not overbearing southern drawl.
    — goes with the tides. if loyalty is what will benefit him, so be it. independent but amicable.

    — for windclan – a tall and broad chocolate tabby tom with half a tail. Smattered with smaller scars, the most obvious being a sharp cut across his lower jaw and eye, that of which is half-blind. Sharp-jawed with an intense hazeled stare; lost most of his tail due to an incident when he was younger.
 


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eventually, hollykit had been coerced into joining into the 'fun'. that term should have been used loosely in her eyes. she didn't have too much of it the one time she tried sliding down the apprentice considering she had lost her balance and fell right on her side. she could blame no other than boarpaw, for the way he had stood was off center of course. it surprised her, caused her to tumble to the ground. it hadn't been her fault, how could it be? she was only a kit.

after her first and final try, she stood to the side holding a shooting green glare onto the apprentice. it was only broken with rattleheart's prompt, telling them to go see hareswoop. not a chance! her nose wrinkled in obvious disgust. no reward was enticing enough to hang out with them of all cats. after all, hareswoop had done her wrong before, stepped on her tail as she was hunting a cricket. caused her to yelp and scare the bug away, it had to be on purpose. for whatever reason, he hated her. she wasn't going into a competition at such a grand disadvantage.

heathclaw began the pleasantries, it was boring and she was ready to walk away. all of the patrols and dangerous missions that the moor runners went on, she would think there were more interesting things to say than 'hope you had a good patrol!' or 'lots of rabbits on the moor today!'. it was positively draining, did not do much to make her excited to join them. however, wolfsong came over bearing much more substance. spoke about a dog, from what she had gathered it was some sort of beast with a knack for making windclanners tired. that wasn't enough though, not for her. "what is that? a dog," hollykit inquired to no one in particular, gaze running around the group to see if anyone held a better explanation.
 

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SOOTSTAR
”They’re viscous beasts with sharp yellow teeth. It has a large head and giant paws to match.” Sootstar observes the inquiry of her lead warrior on the dog, but when she heard Hollykit just several paces away had decided to answer. It was an honest answer, but Sootstar would not soften the imagery for any kit within the clan. ”They live with twolegs, there is a couple at the horse place that get loose from time to time. Nothing WindClan cannot handle, you’ll be kept safe.” Is the assurance she does provide, however, she would not leave Hollykit quaking with fear.

She cranes her neck upwards as if to listen, ”The best part about dogs is you’ll hear them before you see them. Mutts do not cease their yapping…”
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"SPEECH"
Bluepool was never a true fan of kits. She liked them alright, but once they started their whining and their crying she was content to give them back to their mothers. In her mind, playing games that weren't ways to subtly train them was a waste. Games like the one that was being played out in front of her. A kit should be playing games like wrestling, or pretend clan, or even hunt the leaf. But she was also not one to interrupt children having fun. It was rare these days and besides, they weren't hurting anyone other than poor, exhausted Boarpaw. Poor wretch looked like he was going to collapse at any moment now, and yet he allowed the kits to climb all over him and probably would have continued to do so until Rattleheart stepped in.

Dog. The words catch her by surprise and immediately she pushes herself to her paws to join the small group when before she was content to be a simple bystander. She says nothing, her sister and Wolfsong already asking and answering. Instead, she comes to stand next to Heathclaw, giving her fellow warrior a friendly bump on the shoulder and a flashing a slight smile his direction before turning her attention back to the apprentice in question as she awaits his answer. A dog on the territory was not good news for anyone.

 
for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone — before he knew it, half of the kits were racing off, but half of them still demanded to play hill. "hey, good try. some of them are real stubborn." he's half dismissive, leaning down to pick up tawnykit to settle her between his shoulders and let her slide down his back. unlike hollykit, she hadn't slid off of his side, and he had a brief moment of thought — someone needs to work on their balance, i guess. as the kittens disperses, more and more warriors start to show up. "sorry guys, i think you're a bit big to play hill.." brown eyes flicked to heathclaw, a soft scoff leaving him. for the kids, he'd nod, but his eyes said it all:

please, starclan, rescue me.

as he lifted another kit up onto his shoulders to slide down, his attention was brought back to the dog, which hadn't thought would be an issue. he was surprised that anyone could even smell it on him — they hadn't even gotten close enough for him to smell it. then again, they had been a good ways from it. but the warriors suddenly seemed worried about it.. should he be worried? it hadn't even noticed them! "it was at the edge of the territory. my mentor and i just turned and ran, i thought they were going to go tell sootstar — speaking of.." his gaze turned to sootstar, and his lips pressed into a thin line, teeth poking from his lips. "it seemed old, it didn't even notice us."

he gave a pause, and gave a vague shrug, tail flicking as a few of the other kits finally dispersed. "do you guys think it'll cause problems?"
 

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SOOTSTAR
Her gaze sways away from Hollykit and onto Boarpaw as he explains what the patrol had encountered. Sootstar suspects the patrol may have gone to Badgermoon, the black and white Tom may have just not gotten a chance to debrief her yet. At the mention of it being old she grins, ”Oh yes, I’ve watched that one before walk about… I‘ve watched it struggle getting up from where it lays, that one will be no issue to us.” She answers, poor thing would be buried in the ground by next leaf-bare likely. However… ”I’ve began to see a younger mutt running around the horseplace. That one is full of energy but hasn’t shown much interest in us since we taught it a lesson.”
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