camp Live & Learn (visiting camp)

[Earthsoul]

Soil had been away from camp for far longer than he’d wanted.

It was something that should’ve been expected, but in his stubbornness the seasoned cat had ignored the possibility. The last few days had been spent settling in with Peach and the housefolk, but it seemed his new owners had ideas about the old man’s health. He’d been whisked around in their monster, ferried from twoleg to twoleg. The first had stuck him full of needles, and after talking to his housefolk some strange tablets had been introduced to his daily diet.

Next, Soil had been put in a large bowl that filled itself with warm water. Already unpleasant, the situation wasn’t helped when the Twolegs tore into him with bubbly concoctions and sickeningly sweet smelling salves. In what felt like an eternity, all the grime, grease, and fleas that were built up over a lifetime of freedom were washed away.

The worst offense of all was when the housefolk finally inflicted upon the proud cat the mark he so despised. A green collar now adorned an aging body, and Soil wanted to do was tear it off, against the warnings of his roommate. Still, after all the busywork was completed, the housefolk had mercifully lessened their scrutiny on the Moggy, loosening an iron grip that allowed him to seize the chance he’d been waiting for; to slip away and see Skyclan.

Walking through the woods still brought him more comfort than kittypet toys or hardtack treats, but as aging paws pounded their way towards camp, the creaky cat had to admit that he felt great. Aching joints were easier to manage, and his fur had stopped its incessant itching. Still, Soil would never get used to the collar, or the strange symbols emblazoned on it that Peach had told him represented his new name.

Soil burst through the camp’s entrance, energy and excitement allowing him to run a few appreciative laps around the edge before skidding to a halt beside the prey pile. “I’m baaaaaaack!” he called, taking a few errant scratches at the collar before flopping onto the cold earth. “Though, if any o’ y’all call me by a kittypet name, this’ll be the last time you’ll see me” he joked, face scrunching up as the elder considered the title placed on him. “What on earth is Hershey supposed t’mean, anyway? Sounds stupid.” This coming from the cat who was called by the substance he was sitting on.​

 

[ThistleBack]

Three reasons, the long ago former stray’s ratty brass clasped purple collar still spins around his neck. One, it held the memories of a fallen comrade of the streets. Two, it gave enemies the chance to underestimate- fuck around, and find out-for lack of a better phrase. Three, it stood as a symbol of- no matter what or who you are, they will make their assumptions and you will forge your truths.

The collar around your neck, had no effect on the lead warrior’s judgment. Though he wore his own as social tactical and sentiment, he hardly paid little tedious wonderings of why others might wear theirs. Kittypet prejudice in Skyclan was about as redundant as a fifth leg, if anything- it crippled you.

Spotting Soil’s brown and white coat bursting into camp like a firecracker, under his chin sported a collar the same hue as the forest he once lived dutifully. Thistleback pulled from his resting spot, long powerful strides bringing him to where he could touch his nose to the elder’s ear in greeting. " you look like a kit about to have his apprentice ceremony. " Thistleback purrs his hoarse grumble of a purr. His nose wrinkles at the sterile smell the other seemed to have now. Twolegs, it wasn’t so much as a stench as it was a strange twang on the senses.

" Hershey, that’s horrid. That color suits you well, however " he squints a bit as he tastes the name, it pukes from his accent without grace. " My rogue name was Thomas. They called me Tommie for short. " he shares with an idle flick of his tail.

Reaching with a few sideways steps, he plucks a small vole out from the low prey pile . Plopping it down near the lively man’s paws before settling back down to join him. " They’re treating you well then? … I’m willing to go flay a twoleg " nicked white ears flick forth.

​

OOC INFO REF

• — Soil is the dad Thistle doesn't know he wished he had. :')
  
  
• 
  
  
  ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
  thirty-three moons
  — Lead warrior of Skyclan
  — taken by
  Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring quillpaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[Orangestar]

"Hey, Soil." Orangeblossom's tail curls up in a friendly gesture as she limps over, a little more speed to her steps than there had been the last time Soil had been through the SkyClan camp. It's been a little while, and Thistleback has beat her to greeting the elder, but the brown-and-white elder seems happier than the last time he'd been seen. Good. Orangeblossom doesn't have a problem with their daylight warriors, and she knows that Soil had been feeling the strain of the harsh leafbare worse than most of their Clanmates this season-cycle, so she's glad to see him looking a little happier even if he has a collar around his neck.

"How are the twolegs treating you?" She offers with a twitch of her ears.​

✦ ooc ✦ info

•  
• 
  ✦ orangeblossom, deputy of skyclan
  — mentoring vulturepaw and eveningpaw.
  ✦ 26 moons, she/her
  ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with brown eyes. torn left ear, scar on right foreleg. injured!
  ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
  ✦ "speech" — thoughts

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Like his deputy and lead warrior, Blazestar holds no ill will toward Soil for choosing to spend his leafbare with housefolk. His bones are aged, body worn from a lifetime of journeying and living in the wild. He knows, too, the comfort housefolk can bring a cat in cold, lonely moons. He greets Soil with a friendly nod, stepping between Orangeblossom and Thistleback. "The collar suits you," he teases with a smile. "We can't all get lucky with Twoleg names, I suppose. I was just Blaise." He purrs.

Orangeblossom asks if the housefolk have been treating him well. Blazestar appraises the older tom. "Looks like they pamper you almost as much as mine used to," he says, distant fondness in the curve of his smile. His housefolk, the only family he'd known before he'd met Little Wolf... he hopes they're doing well. Seeing Soil as he is brings back buried memories, unearthed and dusty.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Shown before and shown once more again, Figpaw cannot stay mad nor bitter at her clan-mates. With time passing since Soil became a daylight warrior she has learned to accept his choice and see it not as a selfish decision. It sparks genuine joy in the apprentice to see him back in camp with a new and fancy collar, she grins agreeing with her leader, everything about it down to the color suited him.

Hobbling over, she stands next to her superiors tall and proud. The orange she-cat has grown quite a lot and matches their height- perhaps aside from Blazestar who was quite the bulky cat.

”Hershey… Thom…Thommas…” The words are difficult for her to even get off her tongue, she snorts light-heartedly. What silly names! She likes Soil and Thistle much better for the two, and that is what they would always be to her. ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS ★ 01/05

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 9 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan, doesn't fully understand

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Mangled right hind leg.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, daft, naive
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ Pansexual . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ poor fighter . okay hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

A while ago, he'd warned Soil that Twolegs were not always as nice as they appeared on the surface, that they'd toss away faulty cats and sent them to bad places. Silversmoke wasn't surprised when he heard Soil's voice at first, preparing an 'I told you so' in his own course way, then, he walked forwards, and all doubts had been shattered. The elder looked better than ever, a spring in his step that Silver had seldom seen in wild cats and a new collar around his neck. Most damning of all, he was happy, and the tabby could only conclude that his owner was either desperate for a feline or had suffered a similar head injury to Ferretwhisker. He listened to the others discuss their former (or current) names with flattened ears. Hershey, Thomas, Blaise, though some spoke as if they were acrid things, Silver couldn't help but feel like there was still sentimental nostalgia in their voices. There were still aspects of old lives that these cats missed, perhaps it was a friend, perhaps it was the comforts, but all the same, it made his muscles tense. Why couldn't he remember fond memories of the time before SkyClan? It almost seemed unfair that all of these cats would have something to go back to if the clans collapsed - as if they had a safety net if all their gambles in the forest didn't pay off. Silver had no such net and for ages, he felt isolated from the others, quietly assessing what that meant.

Silversmoke stares at soil, the dull substrate, not the shiny old cat. It won't last. He knows it won't, but there was a happiness in the other that he didn't want to shatter, even if it could save his life. He was old, even a poorly timed sneeze could kill the tom at this point - maybe he could enjoy one final high point in life before it all came crashing down. "At least they gave you a name." He huffed under his breath, stone-coloured brows knitted together. That... sounded unnecessarily bitter. Silversmoke tucked his paws closer to his body as he sat down and looked off to the side like a dog not willing to admit it'd stolen a steak. His tail lashed in thought, the silence suffocating to the spotted tabby now that he'd made his presence known. Of course, he'd have to devote his life to the one group that drudged up bad memories everytime he saw a collar... he still didn't regret it. "I'm happy for you... Hershey." He smiled slightly.


​

 

[Earthsoul]

Emerald eyes glinted in appreciation as his
friends made themselves known, approaching with a kindness that comforted the creaky cat. It had only been a few days, but it felt like moons had passed since the last time Soil had spoken to his clanmates. Claws unsheathed, flexing gratefully into the earth before he began to speak, such simple social interaction making the elder's day.

Soil always had a soft spot for Thistleback. One of the first cats to make his acquaintance when he joined Skyclan, the old man knew that behind the spiky, scary looks (and after his injury, voice) lied a big softie. Case in point, the warrior's warm words led to an embarrassed chuckle on the elder's part. "I have t' admit, it's weird not feelin' it all matted for once. Always thought groomin' took to long, so I never did it unless it got real bad, y'know?" At the mention of his new name, the cat couldn't help but give his collar a few piqued pulls. "Names really are hard for some cats, huh? Thistleback suits you much better than Thomas."

Tearing gratefully into the vole, Soil couldn't help but laugh at the other's question between mouthfuls. Maybe 'big softie wasn't the most accurate? "As well as I expected, so no flayin' needed. Worst part is the food, though. I've eaten it before when I was around your age, y'know. Can't say time has improved the taste any."

As Orangeblossom limps over, an approving expression passed over elderly features. It seemed everyone was still healing, but the improvement was evident. Life went on, he supposed. At her question, the old man lit up. "They're nice folks! There's three of 'em, two adults and a kit. The little one must be real young, though, 'cause it looks weird. Still, they let me go about my business and that's all I care about." Soil would never admit it, but he had also grown to enjoy how prone the housefolk were to petting him.

At his leader's sudden words, Soil couldn't help but raise an invisible eyebrow in slight shock. "You were a kittypet?" It made sense in hindsight, given the group they were all apart of, but Blazestar just didn't strike him as the type. Before that avenue could be explored, though, the mention of coddled cats brought to mind a point the elder hadn't yet expounded upon. "Speakin' of pampered, I got a roomate. Kit named Peach, been a kittypet his whole life, far as I can tell. I tried to explain how huntin' works once, and I swear he looked at me like I had two tails." Emerald eyes stared at the partially-eaten prey before him as an idea formed. "Might sneak this back with me, y'know. Give 'im a taste of real food…"

Soil remembered Figpaw's hesitation when the elder first announced his intentions to seek supplementary shelter, so a soft smile crossed his face when it seemed her expression was more genuine. "It's hard to figure out what twolegs are callin' you, a lot harder than I thought. I'm either Hershey, or…" a graying face scrunched up in thought, trying to make out the vague sounds that had been said in his direction over the past few days. "…dinner. Peach says it's the first one, so I'm takin' his word for it."

Silversmoke had been a voice of reason among the well-wishers, and Soil had been happy he was wrong, but the elder felt remorse for the warrior. It was clear the misgivings had been born out of past experience, and the words spoken now only broke the elder's heart further. Part of him wanted to extend an olive branch; offer to help look for twolegs if the warrior wished again for that life, but he knew it could easily be seen as a slight. For now, Soil would flick his tail in a friendly gesture and try his best to cheer up his peer. "I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't embarrass myself, though. Been a while since I had to act all cutesy and helpless, almost threw up when I was scratchin' at their door!" ​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figpaw grows intrigued at the mention of a kit named Peach. The idea of a feline not knowing what hunting was baffled her. The red tabby doesn’t recall a day outside of the womb she didn’t know about hunting! Figpaw stifles a frown from forming on her maw when Soil mentions bringing them over for a taste of real prey, she loves meeting new cats, but certainly now was not a good time to bring cats for taste testing?

As per usual, Figpaw would never dare speak against authorities… this included elder felines like Soil! Instead she glances around, wondering if anyone else would make a move to advise against it. Quickly all contempt is washed away though at Soil’s mention of his name possibly being “dinner”. Figpaw wrinkles her nose, ”I’d hope not! I wouldn’t like someone calling me dinner.” Considering the implications and all… ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS ★ 01/05

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 9 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan, doesn't fully understand

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Mangled right hind leg.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, daft, naive
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ Pansexual . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ poor fighter . okay hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar purrs at Soil's surprise. "You were a kittypet?" "I was the most pampered kittypet you can imagine," he assures the older tom. "Well. Besides Val-Dawnglare, anyway." He tilts his head at the mention of a Twoleg kit. Sure, he'd seen them around, but his housefolk had been elderly, with lined faces, slow movements, weathered hands that patiently brushed snarls from his coat.

A strange nostalgic ache blooms in his chest, but he only smiles and shakes the feeling away. "Unintrusive housefolk are the best kind," he murmurs.

Figpaw's remark makes him burst into laughter, though. "Housefolk don't eat cats," he explains. "They do eat meat, though. Stranger than any fresh-kill you've ever tasted... some of it is to die for, though." He'd been given tidbits from his housefolk's meals before... big birds, unimaginably enormous, with meat as white and soft as snow. He salivates slightly at the memory.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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