camp in that old red dirt || guarding camp

[LYNXTOOTH.]

// this thread takes place during the border fight and herb raid threads; it is only open to cats left back in camp during that time.
apprentice tag @slatepaw

. . .

lynxtooth paces.

he does not know how long they will be gone. how long his son will be gone, his brave gravelpaw, fighting for windclan's honor and survival — when they will come marching back with heads held high and pelts bloody, catmint in their jaws. they have prayed to the stars and they have chosen their very best; he can foresee no other outcome but victory.

(though he does know to expect casualties.)

he paces. guard duty had initially felt like a slight — and it really might've been if not for the trust and approval he had found in sootstar's eyes, looking to her after badgermoon's decision, conflicted. this was no placating concession to a child passed over. windclan needed him here, just as it needed his littermates out in the wilds.

he would ensure that their sick and wounded, their kittens and queens and elderly, came to no harm while this camp was left so barren. teeth bared at nothing, lynxtooth paces and he paces, wondering who might dare launch retaliation. who would even dare come to skyclan's aid, survival no guarantee in such a brutal season? probably no one; they've planned well and prepared, and this should set skyclan and any allies off-balance. the best outcome, he knows, is one in which he sees no battle at all.

still he itches to sink his teeth into a mangy kittypet skyclanner. hoarding the forest's herbs while their twoleg lovers fatten them up and keep them healthy. it's a disgrace. windclan has a right to those herbs, passed down by the stars to their chosen and most blessed, and the results of this raid will prove it so.


. . . tags.​

 

[slatepaw]

---

slatepaw
6 moons - windclan apprentice - speech​

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮



slatepaw's eyes were heavy as he sat with his father, watching guard over the camp. he had not attended the group prayer. what was starclan going to do for them now after sentencing their clan to sickness and death?

the air was dead and silent with so many cats gone. slatepaw's ears swiveled.

his father's pacing pawsteps were driving him mad.

but collected he remained. even though the only cat in this starclan forsaken clan he felt even half comfortable around has gone to battle. bitterly, he wished his father would have went in gravelpaw's place. it wasn't very brave, strong and impressionable for lynxtooth to let his adolescent son go and stay home himself to guard camp from a battle happening far, far away. but again, not a word would leave the young tom's lips, although he wished now more than ever that he could curse at his father for being so useless.

as his father did often to him.

maybe he was useless. after all, he wasn't even a thought in the back of the minds of the patrol leaders. not a look in his direction, nobody would say maybe slatepaw can contribute to the battle. not even the stealth patrol wanted to make use of him. curse his black pelt in this sunless season.

the tom began cursing under his breath. cursing whoever could hear, cursing starclan, cursing skyclan, cursing catmint and the sickness. cursing gravelpaw for leaving him. cursing lynxtooth for letting him.

where were their ancestors now?



╰── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

༶•┈┈⛧┈★ just a castaway, an island lost at sea

---

 

[OWLTALON]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

"Y'all look like fluffed ducks." Owltalon is eager to speak up as he wanders over, small paws sinking into the snow and stinging against the cold. His legs, long enough to keep his face surfaced over the snow, push through the snow with effort. He'd never get used to this environment.. He missed new-leaf. "Settle down, oui? They aren't dumb enough to invade our territory." He hums softly, seating himself down. Was his apprentice far..? Probably not. It'd be just fine. They all would be.

@ELKPAW ​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

Sleep seemed reluctant to come to him, and relaxation even more adverse. He knew he was not alone in these worries, but... not many worried for the same cat he did. Distraction was simplest to seek out when his mind wouldn't stop fixating, when- he kept picturing the worst kinds of death, and the blessing of diversion came in the buzz of conversation near the camp's edge. Quiet and sparse as it was, it beckoned him- and bounding steps upon inky paws skipped their way over, rank taken alongside Owltalon. A quiet snicker of entertainment shuddered from the grinning spectre- ducks! Oh, imagining bills fused to the face-flesh of his Clanmates, click-clack shuddering as they chattered in the cold... in times of tension it helped to find amusement.

"Yeah. Everyone'll be alright," he chimed, some self-assurance there too. A smile shone shadowy upon his face, oxymoronic in its sharp insincerity and yet its wide, wild glow. When he said everyone he meant it, more than anything. Everyone included the medicine cat they were targeting in the first place, for him... and though he knew better now than to show it, a short laugh leapt from his chest, sudden and sharp. Explosive nerves. ​

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​

 

[MORNINGMINT]

"Faith, Lynxtooth. StarClan is watching." Hazeldash murmurs, stepping lightly in the pawsteps made by Owltalon in a futile attempt to have her pawpads better protected from the biting cold. She flexes one, trying to get any feeling aside from stinging back in it, and makes a discontent noise at the way it doesn't work. Her pelt is short but thick, but even that does little to protect her against the elements settling on WindClan's camp as the clouds steadily cover the night sky. It seemed that many of them would not sleep tonight - so far, her count is four, but even that number is high compared to the total of their Clanmates still home.

"How long until it snows again?" She meows in an attempt to get their minds off their absent Clanmates. She's certain they would return with the sun next dawn, yet isn't sure if it would bring snow with it.​

 

[ELKSKULL]

It's all still so white. Still so cold. He keeps finding it annoying but then he goes back to what Sunstride said. Hmm. Perhaps he does need to look at it a different way. Maybe. His white pelt blends in and makes him look like living snow itself. He trudges and leaps, shifting over the mounds of ice with a large amount of effort and yet he is okay. He is fine with it. Of couse he follows his mentor like an attached leech, pale blue eyes wide and focused on his rear end. That is until his mentor stops and so does he. Someone is pacing. Worried and frayed. Personally he is not worried. To be honest he doesn't care one way or the other. Windclan can not be defeated anyway so what was there to worry about. He chuckles lightly, amused at how this one panics. Stresses for nothing. Time better spent being productive.

Hmm. He shifts around his mentor then as he looks out into the vast snow before he sighs. "This is boring. Can we do something else, Owltalon?" Sharp claws press against the snow. Maybe he can go and sleep. Not very productive but at least he won't he staring at blinding white all day. Just sitting and waiting. Waiting and sitting.​