camp nothing to do — intro

[spiderpaw ✧]

[ ♱ ] Spiderpaw sprawled just in front of the apprentices' den, the mild shade and slight dewiness of the surrounding ferns combining with a light breeze to ruffle the shecat's heavy fur in the fresh temperatures of newleaf. The thought of the currently-pleasant weather summoned to the forefront of her mind the impending greenleaf, Spiderpaw's large ears fluttering in irritation at the thought; having been born in late leaffall, she'd yet to experience the season, but its descriptions evoked an unwelcome image in her mind. Just the idea of the often-oppressive greenleaf heat settling into her thick locks of fur set her ears to flickering again before she made an effort to settle them. Still, the images assailed her mind unbidden; while she hadn't experienced it, Spiderpaw's imagination supplied the sensation of heavy, hot air thick as mud, an unavoidable sun, cracked earth. She frowned momentarily.

Swatting away the thought, the black-and-white shecat stretched slightly, the remnants of a mostly-consumed finch sitting in front of her, settling back into a relatively contented tangle of overlong limbs. Ugh, this hardly looks graceful. Spiderpaw thought somewhat whinily; her gangly frame evaded the careful poise she tried to keep herself settled into. Content to ignore the rest of the finch, the apprentice cast her gaze around the clearing; peoplewatching was arguably one of her favorite activities. And this time she was combining it with another frequent activity of hers; attempting to avoid her duties—two moons of apprenticeship had in no way acquainted Spiderpaw to the lesser duties of apprenticeship she felt were for the less skilled apprentices. Regardless, she was bored, and simply gazing around camp often provided opportunities for conversation or the collection of gossip.

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[Earthsoul]

In moons past, when aching joints didn't give him grief for getting up and brown fur hadn’t started going grey with age, Earthsoul might’ve cared about his appearance. The elder had long gotten used to waking with some new tuft of fur sticking out at an odd angle, or the ever-present layer of dirt and dust complementing a mulch-stained pelt. Becoming a kittypet had changed all that, though.

Now, the former loner had somebody to care about his appearance for him. It felt like every day some new substance was assaulting his skin, wiping away over a hundred moons of hard-earned grime and replacing it with the glistening luster of a well-groomed pelt. Sitting in camp, Earthsoul certainly felt less elegant than he looked. The elder was fighting the urge to roll in the dirt beneath him and wear it like a second suit, and he was losing.

Knowing that his twolegs wouldn’t be happy if he tossed their efforts out the window, the daylight warrior decided he needed to distract himself. Emerald eyes spotted Spiderpaw’s, and soon the oak-hued orator was on aging paws and approaching.

“D’ya think leaders have to practice like that?” he started, gesturing to her ever-changing stance. “Y’know, sittin’ fancy and all. I imagine it helps when they’re givin’ speeches n’ the like. Makes cats pay attention.” ​

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

[ ♱ ] Spiderpaw's heavy-lidded blue gaze turned towards the senior cat ambling over to her, half-paying attention to what he was actually saying as she appraised Earthsoul; she'd be lying if she said she wasn't hoping for Briarpaw, or another ... younger ... cat to chat with. The apprentice's eyes moved over the cat's obviously creaky joints and grayed fur, one large ear flicking in surprise at the elder's pelt, which was shiny and taken-care of enough to rival her own overlong locks. That's weird. It was only after this unsubtle up-and-down that Spiderpaw actually processed what the cat was saying; it ignited a touch of embarassment in her that the cat had noticed her awkward posture, but she quickly squashed that. He's just an elder, after all. It's not like Blazestar himself is remarking on your posture. The black shecat was less offended by the remarks than she might've been those of another cat; since the brown senior was just an elder, after all, and she had to admit his careless demeanour was almost admirable; almost.

What am I doing, admiring a fossil like that? Spiderpaw thought to herself, repressing a shudder at the mental image of her own elderhood she could anticipate; dying young sounded good if she would end up like this. The thick-furred cat mentally shook herself; it would be weird if she didn't reply, and the elder was conversation, if not likely a good one. Giving a feignedly careless lick to her forepaw, Spiderpaw replied, "Maybe they do; although they don't have to contend with these legs," she groused, "But a respectable cat like that oughta have good manners," The apprentice finished, with a somewhat pointed glance, tacking on a last, somewhat tactless mew, "What's a geezer like you doing with such a nice pelt, anyways?" One long-furred paw motioned to the cat's lustrous fur; Spiderpaw was somewhat intrigued to see if the elder would return her flippant tone.

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[SILVERSMOKE]

He'd always told himself that the day he stopped for conversation would be the day the moon would fall from the sky. As he came to a stop to eavesdrop on Spiderpaw and Earthsoul, and there was no sign of a giant white rock hurdling towards them, he decided to turn his full body to the eclectic pair. Respect for the elder caused him to feign more interest in the conversation than he actually had, his black-tufted ears perked forwards as he tried to remember each word of their debate. A sense of duty gnawed at the back of his mind, telling him to leave them alone and go patrol for the second time that day, but he tried to put it off. It was a travesty that the only missing clanmate he'd been able to say goodbye to was Slate, if anything happened to Earthsoul then the regret of not being around could've been enough to make him sick. There was wisdom in the idea that leaders had to behave a certain way, but... "There are more important things to leading than how you look." No matter how tall WindClan's leader tried to sit, she would forever be a rat-sized queen in the eyes of the other clans. There was something beyond the war she sat that inspired loyalty in her group.

A glance of disapproval was offered toward Spiderpaw, his mouth parted as he was about to discipline the apprentice for the perceived slight on someone he likened to a friend. Jaw tight, he eventually clamped them together when he reminded himself that Earthsoul could take care of himself. The old cat's mind was sharper than any set of claws, but if he needed him, then the tabby would be there. The Lead Warrior prowled closer, expression taciturn and grave. "Same reason why half of our clan have pelts shinier than fish scales," he huffed, though it was not a tone intended to be unkind towards the elder. There was an apologetic glint in his eye as he cast it towards Earthsoul, his muzzle twitching in place of unspoken words. His own fur was well-groomed but rugged, strands of silver hair refusing to settle where old battle wounds had healed no matter how much he ran a tongue over the dry flesh. "Twoleg paws." Silversmoke elaborated with a swish of his striped tail. They were things that hurt more than they healed, it left his gut feeling strange when Earthsoul had done nothing but heal within a Twoleg den. He decided not to dwell on it further. "You'll grow into your legs. Mine were long when I was a kitten, they're just average now." He mewed as if he didn't tower over most SkyClanners.
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[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar's ears flick, just happening to hear the snippets of conversation between Spiderpaw, Earthsoul, and Silversmoke. The idea that he'd practiced the way he sat upon the Highbranch makes him smile, and he says ruefully, "Kind of. Believe it or not, there was a time speaking to a big group was frightening." Not too long ago, really. Blaise the kittypet could never have crowned the Highbranch to address a Clan of seasoned warriors.

Surprised at Spiderpaw's candid attitude toward Earthsoul, he gives her a look, mirroring the one Silversmoke had given her. Her comment about shining pelts and Silversmoke's rebuttal have his amusement returning. "I haven't looked half as good since I left my housefolk," he purrs. "There's something about the tools they use that can't compare to a cat's tongue alone."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Orangestar]

"You should have seen the first few Gatherings, Spiderpaw; when they weren't arguing, all the leaders were shuffling their paws around trying to look all big and confident about meowing in front of a crowd." Orangeblossom wiggles her shoulders as if mimicking Blazestar drawing himself upright, though the movement is in a rare show of good humour from his second in command. She'd been a warrior back then, newly named among SkyClan's pre-graduated, and staring wistfully across the clearing to where her sister sat with RiverClan; by somewhere among the haze of trying to remember something unimportant, she swears she can remember Blazestar so highly strung that he looked like he would stand on his hindpaws and achieve liftoff if he'd tried to lift himself any higher (objectively hilarious, given that he was easily one of the tallest Clan heads back then).

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

[ ♱ ] Spiderpaw glanced over at Silversmoke as the similarly lanky cat padded over, her heavy-lidded eyes appraising him just as they had Earthsoul out of their corners; something in her demeanour seemed to indicate he'd passed ... something. Regardless, Spiderpaw's poorly-filtered mouth opened, mewing in her languid drawl, "Silversmoke," While the greeting usually conveyed good humor and respect within the Clan, particularly to a cat higher ranking, framed by Spiderpaw it seemed to ooze disinterest, "I guess tha's true. Sootstar looks like a puffed-up bird trying to stay warm, the way she sits," The apprentice tossed out the remark in a tone dredged with disrespect, despite only having seen the WindClan leader a couple times—and that from a relative distance. The smoke shecat didn't even bother with a verbal response to Silversmoke's leg remark, settling for a slow up-and-down of the warrior's tall frame; her generally soft appearance did nothing to blunt the 'Really?' conveyed in the glance. If there was one skill Spiderpaw had, it was tempering her sardonic thoughts to nonverbal, less easily scolded gestures.

The black apprentice's gaze took on a somewhat sordid glitter when Blazestar and Orangeblossom joined the conversation; her face acquired as much respect to it as it ever did. Still, she wasn't going to stoop any, even for Blazestar. If Spiderpaw was honest, he sometimes framed a bit of a pathetic figure on the Highbranch, in her opinion; his seemingly-constant aura of melancholy made SkyClan look weak(er) to the other Clans, she thought. The cool blue gaze slid from their sad-eyed leader to Orangeblossom's much spikier outline; she almost had more respect for the deputy, who oft seemed to handle more than Blazestar did—at least from what she saw, and that was what mattered anyways. Spiderpaw shook herself into speaking, offering, "I can't imagine y'all up there like that," She mewed, sharp mew tinged with amusement at Orangeblossom's uncommonly good humour, "Althou' I guess I wasn't alive, anyhows," She plunged right into conversation, choosing to ignore the tempering glances from the higher ranks; Earthsoul was just an elder, hardly deserving of much respect, especially considering he was so ... like that. Regardless, Spiderpaw's eyes took on that ratlike glint again as she imagined herself helming a Gathering; she wouldn't do any shuffling or posturing—she already cut a respectworthy figure at her current age, Spiderpaw thought, the little thought an acid slick of pleasure to her mind. Well, regardless of her opinion of her odd conversational companions, Spiderpaw enjoyed a good chat, and it certainly beat doing menial apprentice work.

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[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar playfully swats Orangeblossom on the shoulder at the deputy's mock posturing. He can't help but smile, though -- he's sure she's right. He'd been so nervous, sitting upon the Great Rock among cats who had fought in the Great Battle. Briarstar had led the marsh group for at least a season, and Cicadastar and Sootstar both had such commanding presences. His only friend among them at the time had been friendly little Emberstar...

Emberstar. The smile threatens to curdle. Her betrayal still stings like enemy claws to his flesh.

Better not to think of Emberstar. Nothing good comes of those memories now.

Instead, he meows, "Listen, you'll find out when your time comes. It's one thing to address fifteen cats, but all five Clans! It takes some getting used to." He purrs good-naturedly.

He can't help but snort with laughter at Spiderpaw's comment about Sootstar. How oddly apt... still, he shouldn't encourage that sort of disrespectful language, even towards a cat he loathed. "As long as you keep that opinion to yourself, Spiderpaw," he says, his tone mild. The she-cat has promise; he can only hope her claws are as barbed as her tongue is!​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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