pafp I'm your number one // climbing competition

[oakrumble]

ᯓ⚘ Oakrumble isn't great at making long-lasting relationships. Sure, she can have conversations and fair well, but she'd really prefer to have some friends her own age. The brawny she-cat has a little posse of those she gives her advice to, but they're usually half her age. Oakrumble simply is one of creature comforts, always gravitating to those in need of an extra push or some strong words of encouragement, but it’s difficult to make a meaningful connection with those half her age. She’s desperate, seemingly, as she is going to great lengths in order to make some new much needed connections with those closer to her age. The game came to her during one of her many sleepless nights and as soon as there was a loll in the brawny she-cat’s day she began to frantically work to make it come to fruition. Oakrumble gathered all she would need: some tall grass and a mouthful of bluebird feathers she tore from her nest. She got to crafting, rubbing a pawful of tall grass beneath her paw until it knotted together into a strong tether which she weaved bluebird feathers onto the end of precariously. It’ll hold enough…

She gathered up some company, closer to her age, admittedly, as this was all a selfish ploy for some attention and bonding with counterparts of a similar age. Confidently, Oakrumble bounds ahead of Doeblaze and any others who she may have swayed to accompany her, her odd craft dangling from her maw. She circles a few pine trees before finding one she was satisfied by. Without a word she leaps up, scaling the trunk and launching onto a low-hanging limb. Oakrumble loops two of her crude “prey” on separate thin branches– loose enough that they were easily retrievable but tight enough that a breeze wouldn’t steal them. With haste, she ascends once more and repeats the process with another branch further up and once more with a branch many more lengths up. Out of prey, she begins her descent and lands nimbly, her chest rising and falling with exertion as she faces her competitors.

”The rules are simple,” Oakrumble mews, grinning excitedly. ”There will be two climbers, against each other, of course. It’s a race! The first to retrieve all three prey and place them–” She pads back a few paces from the pine tree and an “x” in the substrate. ”--here, will win!”

The stout cat trots back to the others and sits lightly on her haunches, her dark tail lashing excitedly behind her. ”Any questions?” Oakrumble flicks her gaze towards Doeblaze and grins at the talented climber. ”Us first?” She knows that the lilac tabby will wipe the pine floor with her, but Oakrumble's fur prickles with anticipation to soar up the tree and give her best shot. Quickly, she adds with a wink, ”If you’re not scared.”​

ᯓ⚘ ‘cause i could lose it all

• ooc– @DOEBLAZE oak's attempt to get some friends! anyone can spectate but preferably ocs around oak's age should participate!
  
• OAKRUMBLE —— windclan warrior, she/them, 56 moons

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[DOEBLAZE]

The midsummer breeze winds lazily between the trees as Doeblaze pads forward alongside her fellows in whatever game Oakrumble had stolen them all away for. She opts not to make conversation, content to let her personal silence hang in the air as she basks in the sleepy burble of the other cats' conversation and the rising pastoral sweetness of rich green grass crushed under their pawsteps. A seaglass eye snaps to follow Oakrumble's sudden bound of movement, watching the burly she - cat dart up a tree with startling grace, and she joins her impromptu companions circled around the base. She almost wishes she'd brought Cloudypaw to see such a demonstration of agility—but no, she'd thought it best to leave him at home, figuring the apprentice would be bored around the gaggle of older warriors.

" I see, " the tabby trills, half - tail swishing behind her in the errant summer wind. Her white chin tips upwards as she surveys the crude faux - prey, hung on increasingly high branches, precarious perches—exactly the type the lightweight warrior favors. Interest glimmers in the spiraling jade depths of her lone eye—rarely did she have the wherewithal to seek out such games herself, but it's an excellent way to flex her climbing muscles. Maybe I ought to try something like this with Cloudypaw, she mentally notes, trying to think over the logistics of the thing, snapping back to attention when Oakrumble's gravelly meow turns her way.

" Sure, you're on, " Doeblaze mrrows in reply, and though a crook of a grin doesn't quite make it onto her face, the pleasant glitter of competition arcs through her eye, shooting star - like. She waits politely for Oakrumble's signal—and then the civility dissolves as the warrior launches off the ground in a flying leap, making her way up craggy clawholds with speed that belies her small frame, guided by the embedded star of instinct. Doeblaze is near a blur of lilac fur, limbs whipping and bunching in a quick flurry of movements as she goes up—and there's the first branch, claws clinging tight to it against the wind as she hooks the first piece in her jaws.

Further, further—the wind growing bolder, from gentle paws to whipping teeth, the boughs growing ever thinner as she swings herself up them. Her speed is her enemy and friend, leaves and twigs drifting down in her wake as she moves, relying on honed instinct—she'd always been a climber, even back in the nest with Crochet, ever - beckoning her Twoleg to shoo her away from tall cabinets, but her time as a warrior has sharpened that inclination to a razor's edge. A second piece in her jaws, though the slender branch creaks warningly under her quick - moving white paws.

Many tail - lengths above the ground now, and she can hear Oakrumble behind her over the whistle of the wind, the brawny she - cat moving with deceptive speed infused in her broad limbs, but she does not look back. Higher—higher—she can see the blue glow of her favorite bird's feathers—and she's on the branch, the last piece of prey between her jaws, the thin bough screeching its protest with each pawstep. Then off it, back on the crook of the trunk and a stouter limb—and not a moment too soon, for the branch gives a final warning groan and sloughs off with a crack, slipping between its fellows and lodging there until the wind will finally claim it.

Doeblaze does not pause to contemplate her narrowly - escaped demise, instead bolting back down the trunk as fast as she can without snagging a claw, deerish tail a waving white flag behind her. The warrior comes to a stop at the rough X scratched into the topsoil, depositing the three bundles atop it, her parted jaws letting out harsh breaths from the exertion. Her white forepaws gather close together, standing with as much compsure as she can manage with the wind knocked from her, and her mouth crooks into not quite a smile but something akin to it, gleaming green eye turning towards Oakrumble.

" Good game, " she mrrows, though she can't entirely keep her satisfaction from her voice.

OOC : —

♥︎

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[oakrumble]

ᯓ⚘ Doeblaze's eye is often an illustration of the grief she has experienced, the perpetual mourning she seems to be in since her mate's death, and Oakrumble is thrilled to see a momentary... what was it? Excitement for this competition? Oakrumble couldn't be sure, but all the same she flashed an all too toothy smile at the lilac molly before nodding and directing her attention upwards, up the pine and their targets. Her muscles bunched beneath her matted coat, preparing for take off.

Though she was the one to signal for the competition with a loud chirrup, she had had a delayed start, much to her dismay. She clambers upwards, strong hindlegs propelling her up. Oakrumble is heartbeats behind Doeblaze and must begin to make up the distance between them, recklessly vaulting onto the thin branch and hooking her first flag between her teeth and springing up before the branch would not be able to withhold her weight any longer. The prey flings against her cheeks, irritating the she-cat immensely but she continues to ascend. Oakrumble's lungs burn from the effort she is using, but must see this through. She digs her claws deeper into the bark, forcing herself upwards. The second goal beckons to her, twisting in the breeze at this height-- but she can't navigate around Doeblaze without the risk of catastrophe. As soon as space opens on the narrow branch, she retrieves it.

The stalwart she-cat launches from the branch and secures herself onto the bark, heaving upwards to overtake Doeblaze. She maneuvers diagonally, twisting up the trunk in an attempt to overtake her competitor. It is a futile attempt, this only caused her to lag further behind-- and she narrowly avoids the branch that fractures from the trunk, the prey miraculously still looped around a jutting twig. By this point, Doeblaze is making her descent, a lilac flurry. Oakrumble redirects, clambering downwards cautiously and hooking the feathers into her maw before scrambling down, pushing away from the trunk and touching down with a humpth.

She sets down the prey in the center of the X, her chest rapidly falling and rising. She shakes out her fur, dispering nettles and bark that had been littered upon her in the wake up Doeblaze. When she opens her eyes, her face expands with glee and humour as she sees her counterpart also struggling to catch her breath. "You're brilliant!" Oakrumble bellows, referring to the way in which she scaled the pine with ease. "I knew you'd be a good competitor, that was good fun." She turns, towards any spectators or potential competitors. "Right... well. I am wiped. Whoever is next'll reset... I'll, uh, spectate." She's pleased this plan has so far succeeded, and a new idea blooms within her. Well, Doeblaze has to be rewarded!

ᯓ⚘ ‘cause i could lose it all

• ooc–
  
• OAKRUMBLE —— skyclan warrior, she/her or they/them, 56 moons
  
  

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