camp MARCH INTO | OPEN

[OWLEAR]

The sun is setting to the horizon, a pink and orange sky fading to darkness above their heads, and still Owlear cannot settle. It is strange: usually he's one of the first to sleep, citing that he is preparing himself for dawn patrol. And it truly would not be all that strange to see him awake when the sky fades in opposite, the sun still in the early moments of chasing the darkness away. Here, though? Now? He doesn't look up from his duties, but he can hear a few of the less tactful youngsters muttering in confusion. One even asks if getting an apprentice had made him feel young again, and if they did not think they were being sneaky he might even have laughed. As it was, he didn't want to embarrass the young warrior. Instead he allows them all to filter on, and keeps his head bowed in concentration.

He supposes it is not even all that important. The senior warrior simply counts the prey, gently rolling them around the pile to ensure that all were in a fit state to make a meal of and tracking what they have. It's his second time through, and just like the first he finds himself sighing softly at the end. Howlingstar was right. Even with the turning of seasons– this would not be enough. They have more bellies to fill than their paws can catch for, and the idea that he might soon lose all ability to contribute...it grates fear down the tomcat's spine. In a moment of strange vulnerability, Owlear's head seems to droop. One great paw drags smoothly down his face, and he exhales a great exhale. Then, almost reluctantly, he begins to shape it all back into their pile. Freshest on bottom. Most direly in need of eating on top. Though his stomach growls some, he does not take any. There were still others that needed it first.

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: owlear finally starts feeling his age
• 
  ──── owlear. senior warrior of thunderclan. cis male.
  ──── approximately 90 moons old, yet still youthful.
  ──── pansexual and single,   though with past flings.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with long, thick fur and a broad-shouldered build. despite his age, he is still a strong, imposing tomcat with clear, attentive eyes. though they are a muted hazel, they seem to twinkle with silent wisdom and a warm, deep-seated joy.
• "speech"

​

 

[Sunfreckle]

You could tell leafbare still affected so many cats, their mental states rocky even once prey had begun to return and the greenery flourished around them. Sunfreckle watched Owlear inspect the pile with a critical stare, paws heavy and rolling around a vole that looks a little smaller than they ought to be. Supposed even the prey was struggling to keep up with the shift in seasons, but it seemed something more was weighting on the senior warrior's mind. The red tabby rose to stand stiffly, stretching his back once before trotting over on his uneven three-legged gait and pausing alongside the other with a light smile across his maw, "Owlear, need an ear? You seem troubled?" It was hard to relate to the others worries, so he had not even considered age as a reason the chocolate tabby might be so suddenly morose. Sunfreckle was still young, a little over two and a half years but not quite to three, or at least he felt young especially in this clan where most of their blood was new and their leader was a hardened veteran of time and battle. Some cats wanted to go out in combat, some wanted to die youthful warriors, but he was much more simple in his own feelings. Retiring after serving his clan well was enough for the red tom. He didn't want to make history, ascend to leadership or leave his mark on the forest significantly; Sunfreckle was content to be. To do his best, to make it in this world and ensure his clan did too. It was all he could ask.
"We can share one of these nice mice and talk if you like! I just got off patrol so I have time!"
​

 

[BERRYHEART]

The night was young- barely born, in fact, the sky still bruised with dusk- but Berryheart was ready to fall into the arms of sleep. His night would undoubtedly consist of several jolts, a couple of calls... and perhaps just some natural awakenings. He'd always been a light sleeper, after all... such a thing was likely helpful for a medicine cat, he supposed. If he was urgently needed, there was not much of a possibility he would be ignorant of it.

The problem was, when he had slunk into the darkness of his den, entirely prepared to revel in the patientless quiet, he had befallen the ground bare of his nest. On one of his naps throughout the day he must have left it lying outside... there'd been plenty to eavesdrop on in camp around lunchtime- he vaguely recalled attempting to get a little more comfortable while listening to a conversation ensuing near the elder's den. Given a new mission, the speckled tom turned tail and crossed the entranceway, though his curiosity was slightly snagged as Nifty approached Tawny, the latter of whom seemed... slightly deflated.

Berryheart was in no mood to interject particularly- though the manner in which he lingered was likely noticeable, ears swivelled and a barely-there attentiveness etched lightly upon his stony features. ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​