camp oh simple thing where have you gone // cuddles

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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With newleaf has come new life - and in order to create that, the heavens seem to have decided that rain is needed. Its not that periwinklepaw doesn't understand - the water brings new growth to the plants, which feed the prey, and s forth. But that he dislikes the fact - dislikes the inconveniences he now has to deal with near-daily. With stormy grey clouds overhead blocking out the warm rays of the sun, todays patrols are tiring. Doubly so, when it begins to pour the moment he returns to camp empty pawed. There is no time to think - he does not wish to spend a second longer under the downpour. Instead of retreating to the familiar saftey of the medicine den, oh so far away, he dives down one of the larger tunnels that he has not visited since winter, when it was not uncommon to have to take shelter from the snow. Now is no different - only the water is no longer frozen into glittering flakes.

Shivering, he realizes he is far from alone in seeking out this makeshift den - and after giving his pelt a good few wrings with his tongue to get the worst of the dampness out he shoves his way into the pile, small tremors wracking his pale frame. His short, feather-thin fur has never offered the best insulation, and the water always seems to flood in - leaving him looking and feeling like a drowned rat. He squirms about for a moment, offering a whisper-soft apology to the throng of cats just beginning to settle within the cramped space, and crouches down. A loud crack of thunder over head and a blinding flash of lightning have him freezing, eyes blown wide and teeth set on edge. Its not that he's scared - no, he's just... startled. But he cannot help but lean into the cat closest to him, face tucked into fur as teeth chatter anxiously.

// thunderstorm prompt response; feel free to be the cat he's cuddling into
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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Storms like these are necessary for growth, just as snow is necessary for putting the land to sleep, but he knows that this does not make them appealing. It might be more tolerable if the moors had a thick canopy like ThunderClan and SkyClan, but here, they are far more subject to the sky's whims. Of course, Wolfsong has found he tends to be quite hardy regardless of the weather (though he can admit that he is not very fond of the rain and the mud it summons).

If it weren't for his healing wounds, he might be out checking on the tunnels still, as he has done for every other cloud-splitter. It's best that his dressings do not slough off in the torrent.

There are quite a few of them seeking shelter together, and he does not mind the close press of bodies. Prefers it, even, and so there is no scorn in his heart when Periwinklepaw hides his face in golden fur. "Do you have any stories for me, Periwinklepaw?"
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[SUNSTAR]

Much like Wolfsong, the burnished warrior that comes closer within the sheltered tunnel has no fear of storms. Even if his paws will sink deep beneath the earth with sludge-dredge mud, it is not the worst that he has carried along. The lands of his birth rarely fell completely free of frost, but in those rare moons he had grown used to the wetness. Their travels had left him even more familiar with it. Some time before, he and Wolfsong had wasted their nights with pelts pressed together, sheltering from the carnage. He does not miss the days for their loneliness, but had it ever truly been lonely when the two of them moved as one? Thinking on it now brings him little comfort, only attention to an aching wound.

Better to deny it, and hold himself closer to Wolfsong as if nothing had changed. Comfort in familiarity, temporary as it may be. To pretend they are who they once were– that is his only desire. He parts the crowd to stay close to him. "How could he not?" Sunstride's voice is warm and low. "He has seen nearly as much in these moors as the two of us."

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-eight moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[GRAVELSNAP]

The young warrior groans as he’s roused from the beginnings of sleep by the voices that filter into his thoughts, roughly thrusting him back into reality. He’d only just managed to doze off, so he’s understandably a bit cranky when he lifts his head from where it had rested upon his paws. Teeth bared, Gravelsnap is fully prepared to tear into whoever dares wake him—but the sight of Periwinklepaw, tucked into Wolfsong’s side and looking rattled, stops him.

Bleary hazel eyes blink once, twice, and the black-patched warrior murmurs, "Peri? What’re you…" Their words are cut off by a yawn, but they pull themself to their paws to shift closer. Thunderstorms once frightened Gravelsnap, once set off terrible bouts of anxiety, along with chest-hurting and heart-pounding. These days, the sound of thunder is among their favorite noises to fall asleep to. It makes sense that their friend would be uneasy, with such a storm raging overhead.

Wolfsong, ever patient, asks whether Periwinklepaw has any stories for them, and something lights in his chest when Sunstride affirms that surely they have a tale or two. It isn’t eagerness, he assures himself—that word reeks of desperation. It’s more… curiosity. So they settle back onto the ground, a safe distance away from any cats who may think Gravelsnap a good cuddling partner. "I’m sure Peri’s got some cool stories to tell." Cool or embarrassing, he doesn’t really care. A story is a story, right?
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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If peri were to be honest, they are not particularly up for conversation lately. Memories leave them choked and breathless ore often than not, jaw twitching and aching something terrible. But they aren't they never are. Instead the boy blinks dazed blue eyes at the two adults, shifting somewhat so he's leaned back more on his haunches in thought. A story?. A surreptitious glance at gravelsnap when he speaks, and it is the confidence in which he says the apprentice has a story that makes up his mind. "Well... th-there's one, i sup-pose," it is not a happy story by any means, though he supposes that nobody died is good enough - right? It was before sunstride and wolfsongs time with windclan, before he had... befriended gravelsnap.

"I th-think it was... my s-second, or maybe th-third-? patrol sin-ce becoming an apprentice. It w-w-was so cold, l-leafbare j-j-just sett-ing in, and we'd went to r-rest by the sun warmed p-pool. But i.. couldn't n-nap, 'cause even b-back then i had my s-sleeping s-s-sick-ness, and n-nobody could figure it out, not da- well, anyways he says, rambling on for a moment as he's swept up by memories, hurriedly choking himself off before he can say dandelionwishes name.

He's not the best at things like this he realizes - and certainly not used to an audience other than kits who are more likely to leave halfway through his ramblings anyways. "w-well... i decid-ed to p-practice my hunting m-m-moves with a leaf, 'cause s-sootstar had used it t-to teach us to stalk prey in c-c-camp once but... the wind ended up c-carrying it f-farther than i ex-pected." A shudder wracks his slim body, and his presence suddenly grows impossibly smaller - limbs vanishing beneath his frame as he presses into he ground. "... i r-ran into a f-f-f-fox, of all things." he can still remember it - the sudden silence, the acrid stench, the overwhelming fear. "W-well anyways! i t-tried to run, but it g-g-g-g-got me real g-g-g-good - tha-that's why i l-look like th-this you know - but then v-v-vult-uremask j-j-just, swooped in like - like st-starclan themselves, and him and my b-big brother sc-scared it off. my s-sister had to h-help me run back to c-camp, 'cause it's not like we could d-do anythin-g at th-that age," he finishes hurriedly, deciding that maybe sharing this story wasn't such a good idea after all. He feels sick.

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[LEMONTONGUE]

Thunderstorms have always been an unwelcomed thing by Lemontongue. With rumblings so loud against his large ears, the warrior would rather the rain to arrive peacefully, without the show of lightning and thunder.

Unfortunately, this storm didn't adhere to his wishes. A tumultuous downpour with a ear-rattling entrance, Lemontongue is left no choice but to take shelter and try to find some quiet in the burrows below.

And he's just about settled, when Periwinklepaw arrives. The scarred apprentice is rain-coated and trembling. Whether from the cold of his pelt or from a fear of the storm, Lemontongue isn't completely sure of, until another crack of thunder leaves the warrior jolting back, and the apprentice jolting forward, pressing up against the nearest of warriors - Wolfsong.

Wolfsong, and Sunstride too, try to comfort the apprentice. Stories, they ask for, like kits speaking to an elder. Gravelsnap is there too encourage Periwinklepaw into speaking, and Lemontongue finds himself nodding along. Though he won't admit it, a story or two would be nice to fill the otherwise silent burrows, to dampen the noise of the thunder above.

He listens on, but keeps his own distance. He doesn't want any part of the cuddling he sees before him, doesn't want to deal with another's wet fur. And as the pointed apprentice speaks, the warrior isn't sure the stories he speaks are helping the kid much. Why choose such frightening moments to share, in what is already a fear-ridden moment?

"Sounds scary. Good thing you made it out, yeah?" he offers in an effort to fill the silence that follows, ears twitching as the thunder rolls onwards. Lemontongue's head tilts as he looks at Periwinklepaw. "Got any other stories? Perhaps... Anything happier?"

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