camp Little moon waltz || rta

Flaxshade

Flaxshade

|| Scholary ||
WindClan 10K
Mar 8, 2023
13
0
1

Observation is the first step of any experiment​
Soon forth did Flaxshade and the patrol they were on returned, a yawn slip from his maw before he looked to his paws and paused, eyeing the mud cracked between his claws the tom hummed a bit leaning closer down before beginning to work his way with cleaning the mud out, even going as far as to shake some of the mud off, perhaps accidentally spraying some of the other cats near him. After all, despite being a tunneler Flaxshade rather enjoyed having a clean fur, of course that is not to say others did not too since he knew he wasn't the only one who began to rid themselves of the dirt on their fur.

Pausing from his work of cleaning his paws he looked to his fellow comrades and hummed a bit before tilting his head with amusement "don't you think, its quite strange at times that we sit here to clean off the mud from our furs when we're just going to return back into the tunnels again or do you not think bout such a thing at all?" he would ask with a playful tone in his voice while tufted ears flicked a bit to the side. Nothing fun happened today on patrol and now Flaxshade found himself quite bored so why not pick the brains of the others before they decided to attempt make their get-away? His copper eyes landing on the poor soul who he first asked the question to deciding to await for their response to further amuse the warrior​
"speak""Thoughts"​
 

her nose would wrinkle in disgust as mud was flung upon her clean pelt. "be more careful will 'ya?" she muses, bending down to clean the filth from her pelt as flaxshade carelessly continues to groom himself. hesitation would fill her features as she gazed at him, unsure of what exactly he found humorous about his question. perhaps it was her annoyance over the situation that was pushing it, but she shrugged regardless, deciding she would bite. "why go into the tunnels at all? being a moor runner is much cleaner. not to mention safer."

​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO
  • ooc : — ​

  • — ic opinions
    — open to minor/healing powerplay
    — quailbreeze / windclan moor runner / feminine pronouns / biography

 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Tunneling is certainly a dirty business, which Wolfsong can partly understand after spending so much time digging up certain herbs. Still, he can't agree with the assertion Flaxshade makes; cleanliness is hardly strange at all, regardless of how short-lived it may or may not be. Thinking in such terms of pointlessness makes for a steep slope. Would it not also be pointless to hunt when their bellies will again be empty the following day? Impermanence is their way of life in the clans, their comfort dictated by the seasons and elements beyond their control, though Wolfsong knows it unlikely that Flaxshade intended to inspire philosophizing to this degree.

Wolfsong hums lowly, assessing Quailbreeze with his sole eye. "Is that a sincere question?" He asks after a moment. "Tunnelers can follow the prey in leafbare. WindClan relies on their skill when bitter weather forces prey below ground." Surely it was merely a careless remark. ​
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv
  • — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
​
 
✦　　. 　 ˚　.   All that he can think of in the tunnels is a bear. Ridiculous, he knows, but his only near-close comparison. The size of the caves then had dwarfed him. In the warm-dark dampness of that winding tunnel, he had nearly faced his death. WindClan does the same each day, even if it is not at the claws of a monstrous beast. They come to camp with weeping wounds of rabbit-kicks and dirt clogging their claws. Their very being must ache with the strength it requires of them. Sunstride does not envy them their aching joins or their dirty pelts. Running the moors is difficult enough, particularly for one not so built for it as the others. It had always been luck that gave him a catch to bring home. Luck, that landed a hare between his paws. Or perhaps it was fate.

The great tom steps closer to groom behind his mate's ear, on the side of his scarred eye. His thick mane there makes for difficult work, but he will spend more time on it later. For now, he rumbles a laugh against golden fur and straightens up. "Ah, but it is a good thing we are not all cowards then, Quailbreeze. There is much to this life that would be safer than to live amongst these moors. We choose to do so regardless." Without cruelty, the deputy narrows his eyes at the molly. "We do not all yearn for the life of a fattened pet."
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𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.16.2023 ˊˎ＜
  • OOC. —
  • ✦　　. 　 ˚　.   FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  —————————
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    ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.

    ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——
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  • "speech"
​
 


Rattleheart's small, shaky frame had made it so that he hadn't had much choice in the matter when it had come time for him to join the clan as either a moor runner or tunneler. He simply hadn't been big enough for the former, lacking the brute strength and speed that was needed to effectively tame the moors and bring down the prey that streaked across them. Still, he had never resented the job that he had ended up with. He much preferred being down in the tunnels, able to navigate the darkness by touch, smell and sound alone. There hadn't ever been a time where he had felt useless while doing his tunneler duties, seeing as he was always either bringing in food for Windclan or protecting them from the threats that lurked down below the moors.

All that said, though, even he couldn't deny that the frequent dirtying of his pelt was an unfortunate side effect. One he mostly took in stride, though a mildly perturbed expression flashed across his face as he yanked himself away from the mud that Flaxshade sent flying. Rattleheart had enough cleaning to do thanks to his own ventures down there, he didn't need anyone adding more. "It can be annoying, but I'd much rather be clean for a bit than dirtied from the tunnels all the time. Especially considering how much it would show up on my pelt..." His white patches did very little to distract when he was covered in dirt, and he was often eager for a bath whenever he'd been on a patrol for just a touch too long.

His pale gaze snapped over to Quailbreeze when she spoke, unable to keep his disbelief off his face as a still slightly croaking laugh left him. "I mean, if you'd really like we can all end up starving during leafbare because no one went down into the tunnels. Personally though, I prefer filling my belly with the prey that hides down in them." The tunneler almost felt a bit bad for her, considering she was already being reprimanded by both Wolfsong and Sunstride. But what had she been expecting, writing off the work of half of the clan like that?
​
[ PENNED BY EO ]​
 

Observation is the first step of any experiment​
Flaxshade's head lifted to that of Quailbreeze who let a wail out about a speck of mud flunged onto her fur which made a soft chuckle pull from his maw. Yet her words seemed to stir some lecture from others in so he hummed a bit. Were the tunnels that dangerous? He tilted his head a bit, a chance of a tunnel collapsing is likely but they were always prepared for that... "The moors have their dangers too," he stated smoothly, his copper eyes moving from little birdy to Sunny and Wolf with a dip of a head in greetings to the two.

Next to speak was Rattleheart, who seemed to dodge one of their mud splatters and that received a small frown of disappointment from the tom, he'll try again another time with the mud splatter but for now...he narrowed his eyes at the other tufted ears twitching slightly as they all spoke their mind on what little birdy had said and Flaxshade chuckled a bit.

"Little Birdy is just worried for everyone's safety. I like being in the tunnels, to feel the mud between my claws, and to smell the dampness of the ground" he purred softly, it was nothing about being able to hunt for the colder seasons, no it was more so they just enjoyed it. "Like a little worm digging and digging you know?" he smiled playfully.

Flaxshade would note they missed a bit of mud and made another attempt to fling mud at poor Rattleheart in an attempt to gain a reaction from the other who has yet to clean their fur. "Rattle, Rattle you should clean up before it stains~ Need help?" he chimed to the other, tone playful as they spoke. "Especially since I'm sure your bones are aching oh so much" a tease of words from the tom's lips. ​
"speak""Thoughts"​
 



Had the choice been his own, Sootspot never would've considered life as a moor runner. His ear tips reached the shoulders of many of his clanmates, within the other clans, he'd likely be mistaken for an apprentice. With eagles swooping overheard and trespassers adamant about taking pieces of WindClan territory, there were too many dangers. No, moor runner life was not for someone like him. Unfortunately, most of his co-workers were... predisposed to baffle the long-furred tom whenever he was on assignment with them. Their culture was one he had not been able to adapt to, no matter how long he spent within the tunnels; the humour was different, pink, slimy snakes were considered a delicacy and some of them had been known to make the odd treacherous comment or two. One such example of the humour came from Flaxshade, who likened himself to the pink, slimy snakes known as 'worms' in defence of the role Sootstar had given him. A brow raised, his tail whipping twice before coming to an uneasy settle above his head. "I find that worms lack claws. Our dear friend is not digging with his head, is he?" A smirk appeared on Sootspot's face as he tried to join in.

"It would explain your complaints, as for myself..." He looked down to his own fur, where flecks of mud threatened to matt around the long fur he'd been both blessed and cursed with. "It is in everyone's best interests I preen myself." A mulchy smell accompanied the tom wherever he went, he could only imagine how much worse it would be if he forgot to bathe himself twice a day minimum.

​
 
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