private NON OMNIS MORIAR ☆ claythorn

[CICADAFLIGHT]

The day is lightly misty, tendrils of milky fog settling between the trees with the contented roll of a napping cat's spine. Cicadaflight and Crabpaw cut strange figures in the mist on their trek back to camp through the last bits of greenleaf's verdancy, thick foliage clotting generously overhead as they pass through the Beech Copse and back towards camp. Wordless in the penitent quiet of the hazy day, he nods permission for his ginger apprentice to take his leave for some much-needed rest and turns his own paws towards the nursery. Deep banks of sedge and the quiet sounds of kits at play beckon him in despite his discomfort, and he ducks to slot his muscle-bound frame through its entrance.

" Hey, " he greets @claythorn ; the queen lies in her nest, looking on the verge of repose. The camp is not exempt from the day's fog, and it seems to dampen both his gruff greeting and the general atmosphere. He carries in the scent of damp smoke and rainfall, a thick woodsy scent intruding pointedly upon the membrane of milk-scent and rounded sweetness; in every aspect, he looks out of place. So does the fish he lays before Claythorn, a young salmon that hasn't yet outpaced him in size and now never will; still, its body swells formidably with growing fat.

The sound of her kits at play, just out of his line of sight but doubtlessly within hers, drapes a soothing blanket of nostalgic sound over the den. He brushes the last bits of chunky river-gravel off each forepaw onto his legs, bicolor eyes combing carefully over Claythorn's face. As ever, she's difficult to read, and he tilts his head and draws a paw awkwardly over one tufted ear. His rough, lightly accented voice is tempered by a gentle swell of tentative affection. He would not say it, but Claythorn is probably his closest friend. " How're you feeling? They keeping you busy? "

OOC : —

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[claythorn]

The air was cooling- this, she knew. Each time she exited the warmed nursery her thick fur became a blessing, a coat of defense against the early morning and late night chills. A soft breath left her as she settled in the nest, watching what kits didn't feel like breaking free of the nursery for misty grounds. Her eyes were half lidded, and upon Cicadaflight's entrance, she lifted her vision towards him- no, she was not shocked.

Perhaps, she knew he was coming, or she was getting good at recognizing his scent amongst the rest. His pawsteps, even. At his thoughts, Claythorn might half to agree. Long limbs and sinewy muscle cover a dark form unfamiliar to that of the nursery's protection, but it doesn't seem to bother her as a small smile curls about her maw. "Hey." She returns quietly. Ears twitch as she drops her vision to salmon- the weight of it's body wasn't lost on her.

"Th' fish are growing fat out there, aren't they? Leaf-fall gorging." It's more of an observation then a conversation starter, murmured to herself. Claythorn herself felt akin to the salmon- young yet, but growing fat, complacent. She yearned to be free of the nursery, despite knowing she had about three moons left. When Cicadaflight speaks next, she hums lightly, moving down and biting into the flesh of the fish.

After she swallows the mouthful does she speak, "Yes, they are. It feels like each day, a different one yearns to look into the wilds. They listen well, though." She is cool-toned, but the pride is evident in her tone. Claythorn is perhaps deeply appreciative of the fact her young don't disobey, that her rules make sense. A thought strikes her, and mismatched goldens lift to her friend. "Cicadaflight, when were you taught to swim? How old were you?" Claythorn asks suddenly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ┌── THOSE FIVES WORDS IN MY HEAD ⋅❁⋅ YOU SAID ILL NEVER LET YOU GO! ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

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• CLAYTHORN she/her, queen of riverclan, sixteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ mated to otterbite / / mother to dark-kit, onyxkit, sparrowkit, eelkit, dropletkit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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