pafp Listen to the willow || Pelt decorating

[Marigoldstem]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

In an effort to better understand the weird layout of WindClan (not that he would ever say that outloud) Marigold had been pacing around the confines of camp to try and familiarise herself with it. Realistically it was pretty easy given the fact that the majority of windclanners slept under an open sky, the medicine den was identifiable well enough given the traffic of cats having to go there lately. He understood the difference between the nursery and the elders den enough to identify them but sometimes she liked to stop by either one just to confirm that she did in fact get it right. That happened today, stopping near the thick gorse bush he took the time to see who was around the area outside of the den, given the majority were kits running around she would say she was right.

In his efforts to take note of who was there his eyes fell on Heatherkit, that was one of those new ones right? The ones that… Softspot or whatever his name was had brought in. She thought that was a really courageous thing to do, to take kits in like that. Hopefully they had been adjusting fine since then, granted he was really curious about it so why not try and ask how this one was? “Heya Heatherkit” she called out as he moved to stand next to her. “How’re ya going with all this” there was a brief pause as he considers what was even an appropriate way to discuss the state of the clan right now “excitement going around.”

Did he save it? Probably not but with a shrug of her shoulders she carried on anyways, shifting around she tried to think about what he should do to salvage this. Raising a paw subconsciously to brush it against the petals adorning her chest he recalls an idea of what she could do. “Say, how do ya feel about petals in your fur?” With a tilt of his head he grins “before I left home my ma insisted I wear these to protect me against whatever clan life may throw at me” she didn’t really know what they were protection for specifically, unlike him she was rather general with superstitions. “I’d hate to see ya get sick so how about I share some with you? It would be good to share some of that protection” she knows that it will realistically do very little against illness but it may be a fun way to make the she-kit feel a little better about what’s going on.

|| Please wait for @heatherkit ||
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[heatherkit]

( ⊱✿⊰ ) bright, blue eyes watch the bustling of windclan's camp with guarded interest, slate-blue paws crossed daintily as the small nursery-dweller observes. heatherkit's siblings out bossing their denmates around and getting into the gossip of camp's goings on, but the slender girl finds more enjoyment lurking in the shaded areas of camp, out of green-leaf's blistering sun and the winds that sweep the moors. her pelt is spotless, groomed by her father earlier that day, and kept up ever since. a slight breeze flutters the fur on the girl's tail and she flicks it irritably. a hair out of place catches her steel gaze and she is quick to smooth it down, huffing softly to herself, chiding the wind for its mistakes. i may as well go over my fur again, heatherkit muses, pink tongue flicking out to wet rubbery lips.

it is during this second grooming session that heatherkit is approached by a cat she has not yet talked to in depth. she doesn't like to talk to most cats, finding them boring or unimportant in the eyes of a princess such as herself. still, the approaching figure cuts a striking sight, cream fur glinting gold against soft late-afternoon sunlight. marigold, she thinks this one is called, relatively new to the clan (though not newer than herself.) heatherkit's eyes narrow as the feline speaks, and she'll flick an ear in interest. "i'm okay," she will tell the older cat, truth in her words. no sickness has touched her or her family, and so she is fine. pity about the others, she supposes.

"i feel bad for the sick cats," express sympathy, others will like you for that, she has been told. "starclan will guide them." this, she knows is true, truer than anything she has said so far. the cream tabby changes subjects rather abruptly, and heatherkit finds herself wrinkling her muzzle in slight second-hand embarrassment. ah well. interest floods her gaze at the mention of flower petals, and genuineness finds her vocals. "i love flowers," she will admit, allowing the kittish side of her to show. bright eyes glitter at the other's words, already imagining the protection such coveted herbs and petals could provide. "i would love that!" now real delight finds her, and heatherkit stands, arching her back in a stretch before facing marigold. "i can put some fresh ones in your fur too, if you would like. because your mother cannot."

SAY WHAT YOU WANT ⊱✿⊰ BUT SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT

• // ic opinions she's a bit of a mean girl mwah "#b2a0bc"
• 
  
  
• HEATHERKIT ⊱✿⊰ SHE / HER, WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER OF SOOTSPOT, SISTER TO BRAMBLEKIT, NIGHTKIT. 3 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  
  a longhaired blue lynx point with blue eyes. her body is cloaked in pale snow-white fur, a storm of blue flooding her face, tail, and paws. stripes of darker blue accentuate her eyes nose, and band around her legs. shining eyes stare out from the angular shaped face, a deep, faded blue color.
  

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[dimmingsun]

There is a second Celandinepaw in camp nowadays — three, if he counts Sundewpaw, but he does not share the cream pelt that the duo carries. Dimmingsun has not yet had the chance to get to know Marigold more than appearances; or maybe it had been subconsciously intentional, uncertain on how to approach someone who clearly matters to Celandinepaw. She had struggled with getting comfortable in Clan life... would it be more difficult or easier with family around her? Only time could tell.

He beelines for Marigold when he spots her near the medicine cats' den; although the sick cats get transported to outside camp if they are able to walk, Dimmingsun can't imagine the air is not tainted with sickly breaths, left behind by those who had entered it in pursuit of Wolfsong. At least, it appears she is content in staying outside — and evidently hopes to avoid it, judging by what he tells Heatherkit.

The little she-kit spews wisdom already, and Dimmingsun hopes to hide the amusement at the echo of Sootspot's words. Like father, like daughter, huh?

It is considerably more difficult to not flinch when Heatherkit mentions Marigold's mother, and Dimmingsun can only think of one way to salvage this before it gets the chance to turn uncomfortable. "It is actually a tradition of ours, as well. We like to decorate each other with flowers before Gatherings, so that we look stronger." There is approval in his gaze as he regards Marigold; it appears she is almost a natural when it comes to WindClan's culture, regardless of intent or lack thereof.
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[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ Cats outside of the clans have a great many traditions to share. He should know as much, having been one of them. On the day that he left, his back turned to all he knew, he had not taken anything but his memories and Ellisif. So much lived on through them alone. So much of it had been smothered beneath Sootstar. There had been reason for her steel claws– as leader himself now, he knows the plague that outsiders could be. Yet he stands here listening to Marigold speak of the norm that came before the clan, and wonders only how much better this place could be if they accepted all around them. There are similarities. There are differences. They are still stronger with them — even if he does not enjoy the friction that comes.

So many strangers. So many new kits. None of them WindClan enough to be trusted. (Just the sort of look he himself had received, so long ago.) To his own thoughts, Sunstar sighs. The noise is louder than he had intended it to be. With that he knew there was no avoiding this conversation. A strange apprentice come for a littermate; kits plucked from a badger's maw and into the paws of one of WindClan's most distrusted warriors (a queen, now). Alongside Dimmingsun, the warrior chuckles down to Heatherkit's tidy fur. Even with the amusement his eyes are exhausted. "Excitement is not the word that many would use. Not when it threatens to take so many of our clanmates. Flowers might not be enough." Realizing a moment later how discouraging that must be, Sunstar hastens to add: "But it is worth a try."

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

• 

  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.

• "speech"

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[Cricketcry]

Cricketcry hates being touched, loathes grooming his fur, and lastly, hates attending Gatherings. All of this culminates in never once, not a single time, participating in the tradition of decorating fur. It is not something that one could do alone (not without it looking sloppy), he does not wish to be picking petals out his fur for days to come, and would he go to a gathering he would never think to do anything that would draw more attention to himself. But as he watches through slitted eyes Dimmingsun hurry towards Marigold and one of Sootspot's kits- he's yet to know their names, Cricketcry does not mingle with Sootspot unless he must- he is overtaken with the need to be involved.

The sight of Dimmingsun urges Cricketcry forward, forehead scrunching as his paws carry him towards the small posse of felines. It was not as though he would like to be decorated with flowers, but truthfully he would like to become friendlier with Dimmingsun and not just some sort of... well, Cricketcry what their relationship could be defined as. It skirts on a mentor and apprentice... advisor/advisee acquaintanceship.

He lingers right behind the large tom, nodding approvingly as he tells Marigold of their tradition. Cricketcry mews a hasty greeting towards the three gathered felines before offering, "Th-there's a... patch of flowers right outside camp. I c-c-can retrieve them for you two... if you would like." He tilts his head slightly and then adds, quickly. "I can grab... sss...some for you, too, Dimmingsun. My b-b-bad for excluding you, I'm sure you'd like to have p-p-pretty fur too." His crackly voice is edged with a twinge of humor as he offers to return with enough flowers for the golden tom. The quick, fleeting moment of humor disappears however when Sunstar's discouraging comment lingers. Well, that's not helpful, is it? He turns quizzical eyes upon his leader and regards him with that ever-present frown of his before hushedly murmuring, "I'll be b-b-b...back with those flowers, then."

WHITE NOISE, WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND

• OOC— feel free to powerplay cricket returning with flowers for y'all!
  
• CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan 𓆧
  𓆧 he/him / 28 ☾
  𓆧 timid, cynical & wistful
  𓆧 has a slight limp

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[Marigoldstem]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate your sympathies when they can leave” He mews thoughtfully, paw idly waving over the dirt underneath them to keep them occupied. “It’ll be good for them to know when they’re out that the clan has been thinking about ‘em” she likes to think that’s true. Marigold knew at least that he would appreciate it if she was sick and then returned to find out she was in others thoughts. She presumed the mention of StarClan was alongside those lines of sympathies, based on the growing grasp of understanding she was developing for WindClans customs.

The delight that Heatherkit shows brings an equal amount of delight from Marigold in response. It warms his heart, to see a kit experience such joy and excitement over an act like this. It helped soothe any pre-exisiting worries and concerns he carried over such an offer. It was a subject matter dear to her and while asking she had started to devise a plan on how to leave the conversation without appearing hurt over rejection. That rejection didn’t come though, so now she got to focus on something fun instead. He can’t help but blink in reply to her offer, a genuine hearty laugh bubbles from her maw in response. “You’re right, she can’t. I would love that! Thank you Heatherkit” surely when the laughter dies and given a moment to dwell on the kittens words there would be a sorrow bubbling. Thanks to Dimmingsun she isn’t given time to think about it for too long, eyes light up in wonder at his statement.

He is decidedly very excited to see the cats leave for the next gathering “do you think I could help with that? Or is it gathering only cats who assist?” There’s hope in her tone as she speaks carefully, hoping to not overstep any unknown boundaries regarding WindClan’s culture. Sunstar’s sigh brings the cream tabby to still slightly, maybe he had overstepped? She would hate to be removed from the clan just from a handful of misplaced words.

Cricketcry’s offer of gathering flowers distracts her from these concerns and she’s quick to take him up on the offer. “Oh- that would be really lovely Cricketcry, thank you. Would there be enough for you to join us too?” He noticed that the tunneler hadn’t included himself in this equation. Hopefully when he returns that might change. She’s brought back to thinking that she misspoke earlier when the leader joins the conversation. Her ears flicker in threatening to flatten at the mention of his somber words. Right, excitement was a poor choice to make, eye’s flicker to Heatherkit at the mention that flowers might not be enough. Would she back away from the offer now? “You never know, have you tried flowers for protection?” A teasing tone finds him, she grins- practically beaming, in an attempt to sway the odds back to continuing this activity.

Cricketcry’s return saves her from any further embarrassment, clearing his throat he looks back to Heatherkit “You’ll have to sit still then, gotta make sure everything stays” he gingerly takes apart the petals from the flowers given, on instinct she gathers the heather flowers- her namesake she presumes. They would be wilting soon, as the change of seasons could start to be felt, so it felt sentimental to gather those petals. With a thoughtful hum she adorns the front of the kittens pelt with them, just below the neck and near the chest, visible for others to see.
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