camp KITTEN ON THE CATWALK ↺ [ rta / zoomies ]

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Moorpaw is a vessel of extravagant energy. At her liveliest, she manifests as a jet-black blur, not a suggestion of restraint in her muscles while she tore across camp or through the rolling moors outside. And during her most lethargic moments, not a single appendage of hers lay at rest. If this is a reputation that precedes her, it isn't readily apparent—she scarcely invested concern into what her clanmates thought of her, after all. But, should such be the case, and she was known in WindClan as Sootstar's fidgety and fiddle-footed daughter, then so be it! There are far worse records to have, and she'd much rather be a whirlwind than a sourpuss (like Snakehiss).

There are no causal mechanisms to blame for Moorpaw's sudden energetic outflows, and there sure aren't any factors that impede on them. Even with the SkyClan Sickness seemingly crossing into the moors, her paws haven't slowed for a lone second.

The morning followed its standard script. She awoke, then arose from the reams of dozing clanmates, and stretched her spine as far as StarClan allowed her to. Dawn patrol came shortly thereafter and proved relatively uneventful. But, the moment she crossed the gorse wall's threshold and stepped paw in camp, a shocking revelation befell her: she felt utterly refreshed, and was just as energised as when she'd first risen from sleep. The leaden weariness she'd come to associate with greenleaf completely eluded her.

Thus, in short notice, Moorpaw found herself sprinting. From one end of the camp to the opposite, and then back again, only for the cycle to repeat from another angle. She'd stop to see if any of the younger apprentices were so inclined to join her, before her paws were reignited.

Only when the growing tingle in her chest becomes too much to bear does she grind to a halt. It'd been festering deep within her throat for the majority of the morning, though just now did it claw at her insides with such ferocity that the girl succumbed to its demands. Hesitantly, she sinks down to her haunches, and after a moment or two of unease, a wet-sounding cough vents out from her maw. And then another, and then another.

Once the coughing bout comes to pass, Moorpaw's green eyes would scrunch up as she observed the dollops of opaque fluid between her paws. Strange. She can't recall any instance of such a fit overtaking her before.

Nothing else felt amiss about her insides, she decides right then and there. So, she rises to all fours, wipes away the liquid that'd landed on her paws, and takes off into another headlong sprint.​

 

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

The camp stunk of illness. The sound of coughing could be heard all around, luckily, Wolfsong seemed to have it under control. Still more and more cases continued to pop up and he's yet to hear of anyone recovering… He eyes his sister suspiciously as he haults in her tracks to hack and cough. The moment she stops heaving she continues on racing around, earning a roll of Harrierpaw's eyes.

"Don't you remember?" He hollers at her as she races past, a blur of black. "Anyone who shows symptoms like that need to show themselves to Wolfsong." He doubts Moorpaw wants to risk having to taste bitter herbs… but he shares a den with her. He doesn't want to get sick, though he's confident he'd survive, he's stronger than those SkyClan kitties.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Harrierpaw
  » WindClan Apprentice
  » He/him
  » A black and chocolate chimera with golden eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
• 
  » A foe who uses jeers and jaunts to distract his opponents.
  » Excels in using terrain to his advantage.
  » Fights to outwit and see another day.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

 

[SUNNVAR]

He had been watching in silent amusement. Speed was not among Sunstride's strongest suits. He was a strong feline, and certainly a warrior worthy of these moors, but he was not by any means fast. The rabbit-footed moor runners had his admiration. Among their front: Moorpaw. From the time that this litter had been born, it seemed she did not stop moving. One day she would be among the best of this clan. A hunter worthy of the stars. Hopefully she would not meet them soon. Her brother's reaction to her coughing fit is moderate. His own is not. In a jolt he finds all four paws, his tail curling into a cautious, unpleasant arc. Rage is a sting that he is learning well. It bites along his innards– not at Moorpaw herself, but again at SkyClan, at StarClan for allowing this infection to spread so far. That it is his mate at risk, his family in promise of blooming. WindClan itself. He is afraid, and that shows in his eyes.

"Now," he adds to Harrierpaw's reminder with a deep seriousness. Though the idea of sending the ill near his dear mate's nest is frightening, it is better treated now than once it has gotten so terrible she could no longer stand.

＞ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES ╱ REFERENCE ╱ 07.10.2023 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕 〙ˊˎ＜

• ooc: pre-symptoms!

• 

• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, monogamous. mate to wolfsong from 07.05.2023. npc x npc, no larger family.
  —— has recently regained some of his earlier lightness, but maintains his steady facade.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.

• "speech"

​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Watching Sootstar's illness progress to the point where she does not like to leave her nest has left Weaselclaw deeply unsettled. Foreboding has made a nest of his heart. Clanmates sicken and wither away around him, and sometimes—sometimes they die. The patrol that'd found Snailstride comes to mind, having gone too long and too far without the lungwort they now know can cure the yellowcough. Moorpaw's swift black legs ceasing movement catches the corner of his blue gaze, and he looks on with dread sweeping through his body in a black wave.

Her cough is thick and opaque, and wetness splatters onto her dark paws. Weaselclaw's body stiffens into stone. He can see the surprise on his daughter's face, brilliant green eyes scanning the offending phlegm before shrugging and resuming her sprints. He hardly hears Harrierpaw's warning—it's not until Sunstride speaks, sharp with their shared authority, does Weaselclaw's still expression shatter like ice.

He cannot bear to lose his daughter. Not to this filthy yellowcough, not when there are battles for her to win and scars for her to return home with and kits for her to mother. "Moorpaw, how long… how long has this been…" He stares at the wet spots on the dust with a bleak glare. "Sunstride and Harrierpaw are right. Run your tail to that den."

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

Snakehiss was a born runner — bounding over the moors and through the heather came to him like second nature, whereas some outsiders who came to WindClan found themselves winded and beat from a mere sprint. There were many traits that Snakehiss possessed aside from his sharpened tongue, but even he couldn't deny his reputation for being rather opinionated. His opinions were right, too! He wasn't afraid of picking debates with his clanmates if it meant standing up for what he firmly believed in.

That said, one could always count on Snakehiss to be outspoken. "Watch it!" The young warrior exclaimed as a blur of inky black sped right past him, nearly knocking into him. Who in their right mind was running circles around camp? Snakehiss would expect such reckless behavior out of a kit, but this cat was no child.

Only then did the identity of the sprinter reveal themselves, as Moorpaw came to a halt and proceeded to hack up some unsightly fluids onto the ground. Snakehiss visibly recoiled in disgust, ears folding flat against his skull and sneer only intensifying upon his features. She had it! The SkyClan plague; Moorpaw had fallen victim!

As others encouraged the apprentice to seek medical attention, including her own kin, Snakehiss snorted from a safe distance away, "Yes, don't spread your sickness around camp." If Moorpaw continued running around like a chicken with its head cut off, she'd get her gunk droplets everywhere!

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ SNAKEHISS
  —— he/him; warrior ( moor runner ) of windclan
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Moorpaw strives to keep her nose out of others' affairs. No one, not anyone, likes a tattle-telling busybody. Respecting personal boundaries shouldn't be too high a bar, right? But, be it out of spite, or jealousy, or another one of those unpleasant traits under his dusky pelt, Harrierpaw comes dawdling over and gets all up in her beeswax. "Well, you've got fleas," she bites back, her stomach rising at his implications of the worst. Her brother spared no time in suggesting she may share Snailstride's fate. What did he know about medicine, anyhow? "Seriously, Harrierpaw, I'm a-okay. Maybe you should try running around, see how your chest feels then." Cats cough all the time, for all sorts of reasons—colour her surprised that hotfooting it around camp put a frog in her throat.

Ears flatten and hackles raise on the dawn of a second voice, one which bore ample authority. Amid her display of meekness does she pivot to see the medicine cat, whose looming presence cast a grim shadow upon her. "But-!" she begins, an iota of protest breaching through her lips, yet she knew better than to question Sunstride's say. A heavy frown then weighs on her maw, and with her posture hunched, Moorpaw takes a nervous rearwards pawstep. Might this mean Harrierpaw is right? Does she have the SkyClan Cough for certain? She continues to back away. There's no destination in mind, no safe haven in her horizons. All she knows is if this is the truth, then she doesn't want to be near it, and she's struggling to understand what that even means.

The hardest voice for her to hear, though, is that of her father's. Weaselclaw's tone matches not the severity of the healer's, nor the chastisement found in her brother's words. He sounds defeated, as though this development has fixed her future in place. What horrible things is he thinking about? Is he, too, likening her to the fallen Snailstride? "This is the first time I've noticed it..." the girl answers, unable to bring herself to even reach his sullen gaze. What sadness spills over from her father absorbs into her own being. Whatever she'd done, she never meant to cause him distress. She'd never dreamed of being a burden to her family, her clan, her home.

She realises that she's no longer equipped with any agency of her own; Moorpaw is instead limited to the orders of her superiors.

With her head slung low, the she-cat at last accedes to her clanmates' judgement. Ignorant to the significance of her cough (and the jeers of Snakehiss, though her cough was far more pleasant), she meanders - not runs - to the medicine den. ​