pafp it's a hunter's moon 》hunting!

[KITESTORM]

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Kitestorm is proud to be recognized by the clan as an asset as well as to be awarded a true warrior name. Despite the pride, and relief, Kitestorm feels an extra addition addition of stress has been added upon their shoulders. They wish to be filled with only joy to be part of the clan and mates with Florabreeze, but the tabby feels the stress beginning to weigh them down tenfold. Though Kitestorm highly doubts Copia may be experiencing a quarter of the stress they are, they're glad to be on a hunting patrol with the tom. They imagine he may feel the weight of expectation upon his smokey shoulders. Conversation with Copia is easy for Kitestorm and they swiftly found themself searching for a friendship with the tom upon joining the clan. The struggle for acceptance in the clan was one they could bond over and for that Kitestorm is grateful.

The black tabby pads beside Copia with their short ears pricked upwards in an effort to listen for any rustlings of prey in the trees above. Kitestorm leans closer to Copia and asks, "Are you... a decent climber?" A serpent-like tail flicks against his flank, signaling the tom to stop. Several paces away Kitestorm hears the rhythmic drilling of a woodpecker's beak against a tree which they now angle their chin towards, eyes narrowing in excitement. "That would be a nice addition to the prey-pile, hm?"

Their body itches to be tearing up a tree towards the bird but they hang back anyways. "I can go up that tree and scare it towards you- in the opposite tree- and right into your claws," Kitestorm excitedly mews as they bump a shoulder against his overzealously.

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

• || please wait for @COPIA !
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  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

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[COPIA]

Unlike Kitestorm, the former rogue doesn't feel amount of pride to be recognized by the clan. He enjoys being able to venture off into the territory without a warrior watching his every move, but that pales in comparison to how he feels deep down. It still feels strange to him; living within the confined pine tree forest over the twolegplace. It's been moons since his life was uprooted, and others would adjust by now, but it feels like something in his heart is missing. Perhaps he longs for the cats that he once called family, or for his deceased brother. But he pads alongside someone he calls a friend, and he wonders if Kitestorm feels the same way. Kitestorm, an outsider just like the black smoke, joined shortly after him; and the two bonded over the struggle for acceptance within an unfamiliar home.

After Copia recovered from his injuries, the last thing he expected to do was to seek a friendship with another cat. He felt, and sometimes still feels, overwhelmed by the large abundance of cats within the clan— how was he supposed to memorize every face and scent? He felt like he didn't belong within the confined walls of SkyClan, and Kitestorm must've been in a similar boat as the black smoke.

(Perhaps that's what drew the two together.)

The black smoke pads alongside the black tabby, ears pricked as well for any signs of prey up above them. Kitestorm leans closer to him, and he has to fight off the instinct to jerk away as the newly promoted warrior speaks to him. "Are you... a decent climber?" "I suppose, er, I am," Copia answers with a swish of his tail, knowing better on what not to do.

(He will not get stuck in another tree, especially not after claiming he can climb.)

He looks up at the woodpecker Kitestorm has their eyes on, and the fellow warrior's voice speaks with excitement. His belly rumbles at the thought of catching the woodpecker, but his friend mentions the prey pile back in camp. I wish we could just eat it now, He bitterly thinks, but if he wishes to be stay within the safe walls of SkyClan, he has to adhere to their rules. Even if they don't all make that much sense. Kitestorm mews again, and excitedly bumps his shoulder against him. The older tom jerks away at the sudden contact, and his ears pin back. His mismatched eyes flash an apology— the black smoke doesn't always react well to unprompted contact —but he gives the black tabby a nod.

"Sure, that sounds like a plan to me." He mews back, and focuses his gaze onto the opposite tree. With a twitch of his tail, the black smoke leaps onto the tree, and climbs his way up to the specific branch. He situates himself, and looks down towards Kitestorm. "Heh, I'm ready whenever you are," He says in a hushed voice, claws flexing as he looks over towards the unsuspecting woodpecker.
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𝐨𝐨𝐜 ――― 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

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  artwork by llumisky (via TH) for the artwork<3
  
• Copia

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  warrior
  36 moons
  awkward
  clumsy
  experience: shadowing
  backstory: [HYPERLINK]
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  pixel by nopeita <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green & white
  pelt: black smoke with low white
  fur length: long
  parents: sorella and nihil (rogue npcs)
  

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[Chickbloom]

Although he’d joined some time ago, Chickbloom understood the strange feelings that came with trying to fit in. Granted, in his case it was the feeling of rain or the taste of something other than kibble, but the former kittypet could relate to feeling alone, at least. The family Skyclan offered was something to be treasured, but it also took some getting used to.

The former kittypet was had been padding along with the impromptu hunting patrol when Kitestorm stopped, directing their attention skyward. It was a strange quirk (among many), but Chickbloom felt his stomach go lopsided staring at the woodpecker. He was a skilled enough climber, but the baby bird preferred to keep to the low branches. It was something about the height, the knowledge that he’d be seriously hurt (or worse) if a single jump or branch’s strength was misjudged.

Egg-battered fur fluffed up as the warrior took a few half-steps back, amber eyes darting between the duo. “Y-Yeah…I’ll I’ll s-stay here, in c-case it flies down, or…” The excuse faded away like a speaker with a dying battery, butter-tipped tail thumping against the ground. “Good - y’know - good luck.”​