camp in for the long ride // 'moving out'

❀​ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀​
periwinklebreeze | 10 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff
He's finally a warrior. With his new position, fairly little has changed - he still see's the looks his clanmates shoot him, had heard the sincere lack of joy during his ceremony. But he's been granted more freedoms - he can return to night hunting when he wants, no longer has to do chores unless her wants to (or is being punished, he supposes). Of all the changes though, the least pleasant is this one - leaving the medicine den. He's never liked sleeping out in the open - always seeking out a den or burrow or snow tunnel. But vulturemask is right - it's about time he leaves the den, he's taking up precious space they need, especially after so many had returned from the shadowclan border injured or worse.

The long limbed feline pads out into the sunlight, pale gaze blinking against the glare. A mouthful of trinkets held gently in his jaws, old moss long discarded, he tries to find a good place to make a new one. He hesitates, uncertain - will he even be welcome? But he strides forwards nonetheless, heading for a place nearer to the gorse wall, as close to shelter as offered in such an open space as this. It will have to do, he thinks sorrowfully, a sigh slipping out before he can help it. Paws quickly scrape out a divot, dirt and stones kicked free in a few strong swipes, and his trinkets are deposited carefully. Now all that's left is to fine fresh bedding materials - moss, grass, perhaps some wool if there's any left around.

 
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──⇌•〘 INFO Recent defeat has overshadowed much, and though Wolfsong has never believed they could remain victorious forever, it does not soothe the burn of defeat. His mind has lingered on the skirmish against ShadowClan, and it is only when he notices Periwinklebreeze making a nest for himself that he remembers: they have a new warrior. He is no longer a 'paw, a cause for celebration— even though there are many who still regard Periwinklebreeze with distrust.

"It will be an adjustment to sleep under the stars again," Wolfsong comments, his gaze drifting over the small pile of items the new warrior has created. "Would you like help? Flowers may be a good choice— soft petals and scents."
 
Periwinkle was an odd cat, yet Sparkpaw can't really count himself among the group that distrusted him. That would be a little dishonest of him anyway, wouldn't it be? He stood as an outcast himself, the son of a traitor with the blood of many more. If anything they should find comfort in each other, but...maybe Sparkpaw cared too much about his image for that. Redeeming himself before StarClan, before Sootstar. To Weaselclaw, most of all. His mentor's opinion is what mattered to him, as an example of what a warrior should be and a voice that has guided him along his path for this long. He's not entirely certain what the lead warrior thinks of Periwinklebreeze, however, and so in this moment he feels unmoored, uncertain.

He approaches the two of them anyway, with a very full mouthful of moss. "I saw you moving your stuff. I cleaned this out for the elders' nests, but it turns out someone else changed them first. This should be a good start for your nest instead." It's not quite enough to fill it full, and there's nothing particularly special about what he had gathered. Wolfsong suggest flowers, which seems nice. He wonders how his mother had built her nest.
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  • ooc:
  • sparkpaw, sparky. dmab male, he - him - his.
    ──── apprentice of windclan. loyal to windclan and weaselclaw.
    ──── 06 moons old. born on 12.15.22, and ages 85% real time.
    ──── echolight x elmbreeze, adopted by yewberry. brightfam.

    a long-limbed, trim sterile tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck, as if he had been bitten there. has a fresh scar across the bridge of his nose.

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  • "speech"
 

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SOOTSTAR
Herbal bandages and poultices cover her body and a minor limp breaks the motions of her stride. Despite her condition, she felt she was healing swiftly and still needed to make her rounds throughout camp. She couldn’t allow for the clan to think she was weak, to allow cats to even fathom she was not fit or worthy of leading.

Her tail is positioned high in the air, she stands as tall as she can to assert maximum authority.

Watching Periwinklebreeze finally move out from the medicine cats den was a sight to behold. Sootstar snorts, ”It’s about time.” Foul mood she was in, but in this instance it was hard to blame her, who wouldn’t be after freshly dying? She flattens her fur and the intensity in her eyes die down, in spite of the scornful comment she was glad to see a new warrior of WindClan, and another warrior sleeping underneath the stars. It was where WindClan was meant to sleep, even if she did disdain StarClan for their betrayal. ”Be sure to give back whatever bits of moss you don’t use to Vulturemask… or better yet. See if Adderpaw wants it.” Her son had left with his tail in such a twist he hadn’t collected moss for himself. No child of hers would sleep on the dirt, even if he did bear the mark of a twoleg…
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❀​ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀​
periwinklebreeze | 11 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff
Peri blinks in surprise at wolfsongs idea, a conflicted look flickering across his features. "Um... m-maybe j-j-just moss I th-think," he says slowly - he feels as though it would be impossible to find his carefully kept blooms within a tangle of them. Sparkpaw arrives next, with said material in paw, and he beams, eyes crinkling for a moment. "Th-thanks," Peri doesn't want much, doesn't need much really, only enough to make the bare minimum. He spends so little time here anyways, what with his insomnia, so all that matters is his keepsakes are not lost to time - or worse, the wind.

Paws work carefully to pull and stretch and smooth down the moss overtop of those which he fears might fly away, kneading heavily, and his rocks are carefully laid out on top like wights. It's not much to look at, but he's slept on worse - he'll he'd spent nights out in the snow with no moss at all. Sootstar seems content to watch over them, and he flattens his ears- giving a respectful if anxious nod. Oh, how he'd hoped his days of being watched by suspicious eyes would end when he became a warrior - clearly, he'd been wrong.