camp little talks ღ sharing tongues

The bustle of clanlife was ever constant, and Windclan was no different, even if it was all Whitepaw ever knew. She knew she wasn't the most social in regard to her clanmates. She had a small circle of cats she spoke to, and rarely treaded beyond them. However, she wished to change that. So, with the sun setting into the evening, and most apprentices eating, if not finished already, she decided to suggest sharing tongues. After all, with both moor runners and tunnelers, clearly, someone had adventures to share, yes? Settled beside one of her friends, she raised a soft question as she began to gently groom their fur. "How has visiting the borders been going?" It was the first thing she could ask since she hasn't ventured to the territory borders as of yet, herself.
[I'M BREATHING]
 
──⇌•〘 INFO Wolfsong appreciates this tradition, as his thick fur does not an easy groom make, and another tongue lessens the discomfort of hairballs later. He is always grateful when a session is suggested, though he —perhaps uncharacteristically— tends not to raise the option himself. He wasn't expecting Whitepaw to be responsible for this sharing of tongues, but he imagines that it may be difficult keeping updated as a tunneler on matters above ground.

"Our neighbors are prickly as the needle-backed porcupines," he says between rasps of his tongue over a warrior's fur. "But that is as surprising as calling the ground solid. What of the tunnels?"
 

ALL NIGHT GAMER

A slither of opportunity to make an attempt to bond with someone, anyone, in WindClan presented itself not long after he had finished eating that eve. The ever sweet and gentle looking Whitepaw made an effort to converse, not that Silverpaw could make any real contribution to the subject given that he wasn't taken to the borders often. No, he was ditched more often than not or was made to focus on hunting. So he'd just have to take Wolfsong's word for it.

"I've yet to see these pesky neighbours of ours. Who are they again? RumbleClan and PuddleClan?" Not that the names particularly mattered, they all sounded like vermin in comparison to the likes of WindClan. Edging further into the group of felines he then made an attempt to groom one of the other apprentices, though he wasn't sure if they would tolerate his presence for long. Very few wanted to be near the ex-kittypet.
 

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TIGERFROST ♂
0/9

WINDCLAN / LEAD WARRIOR
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

HEALTH:

Tigerfrost snorts, having heard the conversation nearby. His eyes flicker briefly past Whitepaw and Wolfsong, before settling upon Silverpaw. Ah, the kittypet apprentice, one of a few. "RiverClan." The Lead Warrior assumes. "Still licking their wounds, I'd imagine. ThunderClan seems relatively neutral. ShadowClan is as irritable as ever." A simply spoken statement. Why WindClan had ever bothered with an alliance with that bunch was beyond Tigerfrost, but he supposed it wasn't his job to question. Sootstar had her reasons, he's sure.

The Lead Warrior joins in the sharing tongues, content to simply relax for a brief while, before getting back to his patrols.
 
Life doesn't discriminate
There is a brief flicker of irritation that wafts within the realm of his belly as he watches Whitepaw groom another cat besides himself. Jaw rotating on its axle to dispel the fleeting pang of jealousy, Adderpaw whips his serpentine tail from left to right as he takes a seat near the ivory molly. Pride prevents him from asking, tucking his chin to lick the ivory curls of his chest. "Foolish, as always." He interjects between licks. "I'm praying for the day starclan strikes them to the ground." He mutters, just before glancing back up. What a glorious day that would be. "Anything new under the tunnels?" This he says to Whitepaw, turning his head to glance at her.
Between the sinners and the saints