LIVIN’ ON SUNSHINE - changing nursery nests

[Petalstep .]

PETALPAW — Keep about your wits.
Chores weren’t the worst thing in the world- Petalpaw was well aware of that. Oddly enough, the ivory apprentice actually didn’t mind them, they kept her paws busy.
Nest-making, however? Not her strong suite, as much as the adolescent would hate to admit. The Maine coon in her blood actually giving her a disadvantage with her large paws, it made the small details difficult to achieve.
Still, though, she accepts the task assigned to her with only a short nod before she is on her way.
After dragging out the stale moss, she has only just laid out a bundle of fresh material in front of her, procrastinating the actual kneading she knew she’d inevitably have to do.
A giggle suddenly chimes from nearby, and like a hawk Petalpaw is quick to pinpoint the source.
Not that it’s difficult as a bundle of fur charges towards her and the nesting at her alabaster paws.
Surprise parts at the apprentices maw when in a flash the kitten snatches the moss in their tiny jaws and takes off with it, chanting for Petalpaw to chase after them in sing-song.
A tufted ear flicks in annoyance as she watches the child duck away, off to gather their friends to join in.
She strides after, chartreuse hues wide and searching for the little one.
She had no Ill-will towards Riverclans youngest- but they always seemed drawn to her in the worst way possible.
"Have you seen a kit run by? Mouth full of mouse? Giggling as though they’re a starling?" She stops a clanmate walking by, shameful to admit she had lost sight of the kit so quickly.

"speech"

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[SMOKESTAR]

He's feeling some kind of way lately, hard to place exactly what it was but there was a sense of lethargy that clung to him more often than it used to and he longs for the days of sleeping in a comfortable nest within the willow tree once more; maybe then he can sleep because sleep had not come easily to him in recent times. Smokethroat wasn't the daydreaming sort, he was productive at all times, constantly in motion, but today he found himself listlessly staring off into space; melancholic and tired. His trek forward is interupted by a blur of white and stripes and it jolts him from his stupor in an instant. Petalpaw.
In quite the hurry. Her words sound muffled but he forces himself into focus.
"Are they giving you the runaround again, Petalpaw?" It seemed everytime he came across the pale apprentice she was on kitsitting duty of some kind and having a poor time of it. The kits of the clan were wild, rambunctious and the energy was a good sign but sometimes he longed for the quiet of leafbare where they only had...two litters. Nevermind, he hated leafbare also. Could they not have a bit of peace without loud mewling kittens for once? Smokethroat sighed, glanced around where he had certainly not seen a kitten scamper away because frankly, he hadn't been looking.
"I'll help you hunt them down-" His long eye trains on the moss behind her and the piece of it that had clearly been ripped apart from the source. "...did they steal your nesting material?"
Ah, so she wasn't kitsitting but doing other chores. He'd been worried they kept putting her here to be bullied by the youngsters but thankfully that wasn't the case.


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[RAVENSONG]

He's no stranger to feeling the urge to go after kits when they crossed him. The little creatures were terribly annoying—he did not know why any sane cat would like to have some. Being around them made his fur prickle with annoyance. At least Smokethroat and Petalpaw had the same idea.

His own mouth full of moss for his own chores, the medicine cat apprentice dropped it briefly to speak a word toward the warrior and apprentice. "If they did, you might as well leave out more bait." He suggested, gesturing to the moss he had dropped himself. "But not mine." Who said he was the most charitable cat in RiverClan? "I've got chores to do. Good luck."

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[CLAYFUR]

The tom is relaxing (read: sulking) when a kit darts past, sing-songing something that he doesn’t quite catch. It’s cute, honestly, and the tom lifts his head from his paws to watch for a moment before considering going back to his napping. His attention is more effectively caught, however, when Petalpaw asks one of the clan’s lead warriors where the kit had gone. He snorts, tilting his head to the side as he stands and wanders over to the others.

"I saw them but, like, I dunno where they went." He hadn’t thought that far ahead, hadn’t considered the fact that the kit may have been evading the poor apprentice they’d stolen from. Smoke, predictably, offers his aid in tracking them down, and Clayfur shrugs. Oh, well. A bit of moss isn’t the end of the world. It’s not worth scolding a kit over, probably. "I can help you get some more, though. If you want?" He’s sure gathering more moss won’t be too much effort, and he could use something to do with himself anyway.
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

When Snakeblink walks around camp, he — reasonably enough! — doesn’t expect to be taken out by enemy action. He allows himself to let down his guard a little. He could almost, under specific parameters and for a given definition of the term, be said to relax.

Grave mistake: that’s exactly when they strike.

He doesn’t see them coming. One second, he’s on his paws, slithering away from the freshkill pile with a nice little minnow in his mouth. The next, a tiny menace is dashing between his legs, making him stumble as he desperately attempts to not step on the kit that just bowled into him. He pitches forward; his legs get tangled together; he is sent sprawling, minnow flying out of his mouth to drop tail lengths away into the dust. The attacker is already long gone, running away in a storm of high-pitched giggling.

Dragging himself from the early grave of his remaining dignity, Snakeblink half-heartedly shakes himself and goes to collect his newly sand-flavored lunch. Glancing around, he fails to find either the kit or where they came from… but he does see a few cats assembled nearby, audience to this unfortunate event.

”Did anyone happen to… lose a kit?” He asks, ears flicking in embarrassment. ”About ye high, currently interested in being a menace to polite society?”
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 40 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[Petalstep .]

PETALPAW — Keep about your wits.
It’s only after a couple of blinks does she realize it’s Smokethroat that looms over her, she doesn’t have any ill-will towards the lead warrior, he just intimidates her and she despises it.
Expression unchanging, but she gives a nod in reply, an exasperated sigh on her tongue.
"They may just have it out for me." She admitted with a small frown, not that she wasn’t a good sport- okay, she wasn’t, but these kits never seemed to be able to leave her alone.
Ravenpaw offers a solution, and Petalpaw only nods as the medicine cat apprentices passes by, having more hope in finding her lost material with Smokethroats help.
Clayfurs pitching in is almost useless- until the warrior offers to help her gather more.
"Yes please, they may have shredded it up by now anyways with all their running." Petalpaw accepts, the defeat she’s feeling only reflected in the small frown that still hangs on her jaw.
Snakeblink asks if they’re searching for a menace, and Petalpaw flicks her tail in subtle amusement. "Apparently they’d rather not have a nest." She hums in light-hearted agreement.
Ugh, kits. She was never going to have any!

"speech"

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