camp i'm facing reality ✧ nest upgrades

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It was a relief to have something warm to curl up next to at night, even if it spent half the dark hours kicking at her, growling softly in her ears, and in general just, taking up her entire nest whenever possible (this was often, as Lichentail didn't care enough to fight back for the moss and feather-lined bed). It would be a lie to say it was restful sleep, even if it kept the frost-chilled mornings from tingling her toes at first-light.

So it would make sense then, that it was finally time to start preparing for the ice fog coming... to make the warrior's den a little more comfortable so those frost-bitten toes might be able to recuperate in peace. It helped that, for all the strange looks it got her, Lichentail exceled at hunting birds above all else- fish scales were not nearly as soft, plush and conducive to warmth.

Sat in a comfortable enough corner of camp, the blue lynx point had taken to plucking the feathers off a duck she'd had some help catching while it floated unawares along the river's current. They would repel whatever water dripped off soggy coats...help the moss to wick away the moisture.

It would certainly leave the fresh-kill looking ugly... pink and naked. But no one liked to pick around the feathers to eat anyways! No one would complain, least of all the queens, kits and elders it would be prioritized to. Glancing towards the shadow that approached from the corner of their vision, the deputy gestures vaguely to the pile of plucked down, "You're welcome to take some... This duck will have plenty for lining nests with. There might be some birds left in the fresh-kill pile that you can take from too, I wouldn't mind the company if you're bored." It is a mind-numbing, boring, tedious tasks but one that would improve her own comfort (as well as Hazecloud's) exponentially.

WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD
THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN
 
Perhaps curiosity had gotten the better of her when Robinpaw spotted Lichentail plucking the feathers from a duck. Not many ducks made their way into the fresh kill pile after all; it was a real trophy for whoever managed to catch such a large bird. However the tortoiseshell found it most intriguing that the deputy was prioritizing the feathers and down over the carcass itself. Wouldn't comfort in the form of a full belly be better than comfort in the form of a lined nest? Not that this was a one over the other situation, Robinpaw merely had the thought cross her mind momentarily as the blue lynx point spoke aloud to the lingering apprentice. "O-Oh... um, okay," Robinpaw stammers as she looked at the ever growing pile of down and wondered if she should take some to the elders. They'd probably appreciate having a little extra padding in their nests.

She doesn't immediately move to retrieve the plucked feathers, instead hesitating and eventually wandering over to the fresh kill pile to grab a robin (ironic considering her name) and returning to Lichentail's side. Might as well contribute to the cause before taking any feathers from the mound the deputy had created. "Is there a special trick to getting the feathers out easily? Or does yanking suffice?" the apprentice asks with a slight tilt of her head as she gets comfortable, robin situated between her front paws unplucked while she awaits clarification. It would be a shame to ruin the feathers by jumping in uneducated after all.
 

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LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Leaf-bare was undeniably at their doorstep, and while the snow and ice had yet to come, the frozen morning soil and biting night breeze was more than enough evidence of the impending harsh season.
So, while the deputy lay in their corner, plucking at their feathers, Lakemoon couldn’t blame them for wanting the extra warmth and comfort.
Lakemoon could only hope that her own dense fur would be enough to keep Lilybloom warm during the cold nights, it was truly only wishful thinking, and while the mottled warrior would be heading for a much comfier den when the frost would melt again, the tabby still approached her feather-plucking superior with a thoughtful pinch in her expression.
They offer a pawful to Robinpaw, and state they wouldn’t mind company.
"I’ll help if I can have a couple of the big ones." A half joke, though spoken rather flatly, she settles beside the deputy, a small quirk that could resemble a smirk on her maw.

"speech"
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Birds are perhaps Dipperpaw's favorite animals. The way they swooped through the air, graceful and free, it made her feel a certain way when she saw them flitting about, stirred something in her chest. A desire for flight perhaps. To be able to ride on thermals, the wind beneath their wings, to swoop through clouds. She can only imagine the great joy they experience when she cuts weightless through the water and pretends it is the sky above her. Despite her affinity for watching the flighted creatures, she actually finds that she does not care much for the taste. To her it is gamey, her palette containing the affinity only really for fish. What she will do if the river were to freeze this moon she is uncertain. No doubt she would starve.

She watches her mentor pull feathers from a duck and at first Dipperpaw thinks that perhaps Lichentail is angry about something but then she offers a feather to Robinpaw, for lining nests she says and the blue-furred apprentice finds herself interested in the prospect. It would be cold soon, and she did not have anyone to share a nest with. Though her mind does flash briefly to black and orange fur, she quickly shakes the image away. It was an impossible dream. Something so unattainable that the second the thought entered her mind she could feel her heart twist with the pain of knowing that it would never happen. No, if she wanted to share a nest with anyone it would have to be Jaypaw and she would much rather not. She had been down that road already and was content to be on her own now, away from his kicking legs and his snoring jaws.

"I could help" she offers quietly, an olive branch to her mentor. They had never bonded in the way she had with Shellsong. Perhaps though that was okay. Perhaps their bond could be different than the one she had shared with her previous mentor. She was close to being the age of an adult, the age of a warrior and maybe their friendship could extend past her apprenticeship, something more mature than the childish way she had prattled on with questions and Shellsong had begrudgingly answered. The way her and her old mentor were accustomed to being left to their own devices. Unlike her, Lichentail hovered and it took some getting used to but perhaps it is what she needed. "Pull against the direction they grow in" she advises her fellow apprentice as she settles down with her own bird between her paws. She had done this plenty of times under her last mentors instruction. "Pluck a couple at a time if you can, but the smaller ones need to be plucked individually"

 

"Seems we've got an expert," Ferngill commented brightly to Dipperpaw. Maybe out of a crueller mouth the words might have sounded sarcastic, but he was never anything except earnest. Dipperpaw was a friend, anyway- never had she done a thing to earn his ire. Anger in Ferngill's heart was reserved very solely for those who did wrong, and therefore deserved it.

A meadow-green gaze moved singularly to settle upon the task at hand- weaving, but not with reeds. With feathers. Lining, like an extra layer of moss- it was smart, really, but something Ferngill had embarrassingly never considered. He resided, now in the warrior's den, in a very bare-bones, functional nest. What took up most of the space in his own sleeping-place was not his body, but rather the hulking hoard of trinkets he'd collected since they had moved back to camp.

"Good tip," he purred, head canting in interest. Stars sparkled like seaglass in his eye. "Is it something about duck feathers, or can they be anything...?"
penned by pin
 
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Robinpaw... oh good, this is the perfect chance to let her know what she was telling Willowroot not that long ago. The apprentice settles beside her, watching her paws and teeth delicately work at the feathers, separate them and pull them carefully and asks after a technique she might be able to use. She opens her maw to answer, having practiced for plenty of moons to be able to articulate it clearly when Dipperpaw pipes up instead. Her gaze flicks to her apprentice, surprised in part that she was actually listened to the last time birds got discussed. The stony girl was rarely one to display her attentiveness and even less when it came to land-prey (air-prey, really, in this case)... it was flattering to hear her speak so expertly on how to remove the downy feathers. "Yes, exactly. Dipperpaw is right," and at Ferngill's soft praise, the deputy cannot help but give a small, proud purr.

Lakemoon teases that her help is not for free-- she shakes her head, a small smile her only indication that she understands it as a joke. "By all means, but good luck fitting them all in your mouth." She scoots slightly, offering some space for Dipperpaw to come sit aside her and Robinpaw and meticulously continue the proposed task. It is a pleasant surprise.. to have this small moment of respite with her. She cannot help but feel like it is bound to be short-lived... a tiny revelation to be forgotten once her next bad mood began again in earnest.

"Duck feathers are better at keeping the water from soaking your nest," the orange tom is observant of that much, at least, to note that her choice is intentional rather than just efficient based on size of the avian alone. "I wish they were easier to catch, we'd be able to keep our dens dry. Take one! The water will sit there, bead on top of it rather than sinking in... Seems helpful, given how soggy we all end up being each day."

WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD
THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN
 
Hearing a growing rumble of commotion, the young warrior poked her head into the den to see what the fuss was about. At the sight of her clanmates gathered around plucking duck feathers, smiling and chatting amicably, a soft grin lit her features. This is what I love most. Nothing, not yellowcough, not rogues, not even WindClan, can tear us apart. Very much interested in plucking a feather or two herself, Feathergaze slipped inside the den and padded toward Lichentail. Her heart beat kicked up into a skitter at the thought of speaking so plainly to RiverClan's deputy, but their content words and rumbling purr were reassuring.
"Goodness, it's starting to get a little crowded in here huh, she chuckled, eyes shining in the dim light. "Do you think I could have a feather, Lichentail?" The silver molly had never owned a duck feather before. They're so beautiful. Oh, Icebloom you would have loved one. Her heart quaked with loss, but Feathergaze did her best to stay strong. "I can help too, if you're still looking for extra paws."​
 
She is keenly aware of the ever growing crowd coming to see Lichentail just as Robinpaw had done moments ago. It is nice to be surrounded by fellow RiverClanners all wishing to help or share in the deputy's catch. Who knew a duck could unite a pawful of cats who otherwise might not have gathered together at this very moment.

Triangular ears perk at Dipperpaw's advice and Robinpaw offers her fellow apprentice a thankful nod. Momentarily she allows herself to wonder if Brookpaw ever gets on Dipperpaw like she does with herself? Certainly the two spend more time together given they share Lichentail for a mentor - more opportunities for the curled eared apprentice to pick at another's flaws. The thought is quickly forgotten though as she regains her focus and begins to gingerly tug against the direction the feathers grew, finding them to release with relative ease. Briefly does pride shine across the tortie's face as she makes her own small pile of feathers. They aren't going to be water resistant like the duck feathers but at least they can serve their own purpose. As for the pile of duck feathers the deputy had accumulated, Robinpaw takes a small break from her task to ask, "would it be okay if I take some to the elders later on? I'm sure the extra protection against water will help their bones and joints, especially as the days get colder."