no angst IM ON FIRE [ running ]

[rivewhisper]

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Okay, everything except for her lungs felt like they were on fire.

Rewind a second. Rivepaw's paws were drumming against the ground. She had suggested a run aloud to those in camp. Her words came at little shock- what little rest she had gotten was having her antsy and giving her mentor side-glances. Waiting for him to say something, to command them to go somewhere. Rivepaw couldn't take sitting still anymore. She had pushed to her paws, announced she was going for a run and anyone, even stupid Pinkpaw was invit- no, allowed, to the commotion.

And as soon as she had been joined by those who wished to run, she glances alongside herself. "You can race if you want to. I just want to run." She said. For once, her words sounded a bit tiny, but then she was taking off. Her paws were drumming in the sand, then ground and grass. The frost of the morning had left with sunhigh, and her long tail streamed behind her. A dot of brown in a sea of grass, freedom burning her muscles and paws as she galloped ahead. But her lungs? Her lungs were full of cool air, and unbothered by her pace.

Maybe being a moor-runner could be a lot of fun.

@SNAKEHISS mentor ping

"text"
thoughts​

 

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Moorpaw's energy reserves are more expansive than any of the tunnels running belowground. Though her legs ache whenever she first stirs in the morning, prodding the girl towards another day filled with training, hunting, and patrolling, her lissom body primes itself easily; scarcely will a cramp or stiff limb ever slow her stride for too long.

It was a given that Rivepaw's open-armed invitation would spark in Moorpaw some restless excitement. Their stark contrast in age and size didn't ruffle any of her feathers, completely shrugged off. A romp through the territory was a romp through the territory, no matter where and with whom she roamed it. Even so, she found great joy in accompanying one of Sunstride and Wolfsong's descendants. Her time in the wretched badger's sett meant she regrettably couldn't be present when that litter had been brought into being.

"Go as fast as you can, Rivepaw!" she exclaims, white teeth agleam in her confident grin's shadow. A giggle escapes as she conjures a mental image: small, stubby limbs frolicking with reckless abandon over rolling hills, nimble hindquarters bounding, struggling to keep up after them. The scenario comes to life in a passing heartbeat. Emerald eyes swivel forwards, nose pointing dutifully to where the younger feline sprints across the plains. "Woah, woah, and away they go!"

Drawing from her stamina's endless wellsprings, Moorpaw explodes like a geyser into motion. Running with the fervour of a jackrabbit set ablaze, she covers ground in a fiery sprint that shaves lengths off the other's advantage. This wasn't a race, though, and Rivepaw needn't feel pressured in any way.​

 

[quailbreeze]

the apprentice's joy over running across the moors was something quailbreeze found herself relating to. when she first began her training on the moors she too had found a love for running for no other purpose than to run. with both apprentices giggling and taking off like a speedy hare, quailbreeze would join in on the laughing, following in pursuit of the pair. having others who enjoyed running was a blessing in disguise for the she-cat, especially with the tension between her brother and herself. running was a welcomed distraction from the chaos currently wrapped around windclan's tail.

"you two sure are fast! we'll be glad to have moor runners such as yourself around here!" she found herself laughing alongside the younger mollies, pacing herself to run by their side. today was a perfect day. why couldn't every day in windclan be as simple and carefree as this? why did things have to be so difficult?

​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  — ic opinions
  — open to minor/healing powerplay
  — quailbreeze / windclan moor runner / feminine pronouns / biography
  

 

[slateheart]

When Rivepaw suggested a run to the surrounding cats, Slatetooth was quick to quietly accept. He would do anything for a reason to get out of camp, and away from the cats he feared - which was, unfortunately, a majority of WindClan by this point. Being raised and trained as a moor runner, it was easy for him to break into a long distance run, but the black-furred tom found himself trotting on a higher hill instead, watching as the three shapes streaked across the fields.

As melancholy as he usually seemed, the joy of innocent laughter could truly pull a smile out of anyone. Slatetooth found himself in such a state, chuckling to himself as he watched Rivepaw dart across the sea of green, cheered on by Rivepaw and followed after by Quailbreeze. It was a rare moment of serenity in such a perilous time. This is what being a WindClanner should be, always. he found himself thinking, thoughtfully. "You two will make great moor runners!" called Slatetooth from the higher slope in agreeance with Quailbreeze. In the freedoms of the moors, there were no bounds. Slatetooth gave a 'woop' to the three mollies, cheering them on from his jogging on the sidelines, beaming with glee as if the world's problems have simply melted away.
​

​

"Speech"​

---

describe the way the sun hit
a tree you saw when you were ten​

 

[REDHEART]

Growing up, Redpaw had glided across the hills in almost a reverent way. Bringing him an outlet that eased his soul in a way few things did. He could recall his first time learning how to efficiently use all of his body when chasing rabbits. Taking note of the wind and the best method to avoid hitting any rough patches. They could almost visualize Venomstrike's guiding tail and comforting mumble as younger him spazzed with elation on being outside of camp. His chest ached a touch as they pictured their mentor.

A small smile bloomed on his maw as he recalled the interaction taking kindly to the fond memories. Idly, he trailed after the other apprentices, only to pause as Rivepaw urged a race. He hesitated a moment and watched as they all took off without a second thought. Well... It has been a while. Nervous energy made his paws dance in place before he pushed off and jumped forward. Paws splayed wide as he briefly met air before falling gracefully and looping again. Bounding with a fervor he hadn't felt in a long time.

Muscles pulling and contracting as his ruddy pelt billowed frantically around his small frame. Laughter began to bubble from his chest as the apprentice started to catch up to the others. Velvety paws a blur as his green eyes bounced and glimmered in the sun. ​

 

[sparkspirit]

Running has become so ingrained in Sparkspirit's nature that he rarely pauses to truly think of what their paws are doing. Their heaving sides whenever a hunt comes to an end; the communal ache of their paws upon their return. They would rest and groom and soak, and do it all again as soon as they were well enough to. But he remembers learning to run. Weaselclaw taught him the necessary bursts of speed, and Sparkspirit had pushed himself even further. It was a lesson. A skill to practice and observe. The joy he found in it was the satisfaction of a job well done rather than the bubbling joy of motion. Seeing the group that begins to run now, he second guesses it now.

Body inflexible and slow from sleep, the warrior's pace is nothing to cheer on at first. A trot, and then a lazy lope, following the jackrabbit pace of the others in a casual plod as his limbs loosen up. And then, only then, does the slowly building tension finally snap, and Sparkspirit is slingshotted forward with the rest of them. Air is forced into his lungs like a punch, filling his sides as his paws lift and punching out as they connect with the grass. He doesn't comment on it, but he finds himself laughing like the others that joined in. Contagious joy, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Maybe that is what WindClan needed.

𝘛𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐  ･｡ﾟ  🗲  ╱╱ 11.07.2023 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘚𝘈𝘠 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• 🗲　　. 　 ˚　.  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 14 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
  
  
  ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
  

  ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————

• "speech"

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