camp OPEN ╱ IN THE COLD ´ˎ˗

[SUNNVAR]

It is rare to see Sunstride not consumed by his work. Though he has known moments of comfortable rest in his time with WindClan, better than peace he knows battle. Preparing for one, training for one. In the mountains, they had stocked up their prey and gone to war, and feasted upon it as they healed. Well– time and distance have exaggerated his memories. Is it strange to think that he does not know who he had once been? That he does not truly remember those who he had left behind? He thinks of them as if they are dead. Do they know him the same way? A ghost of breath, and he does what he can to release the thought from his mind. Settled within a nook of WindClan's camp, he knows he should be safely separated from the past.

Even still it sits before him. He holds a feather and a piece of gorse between his paws. They shiver with the wind, safely tucked beneath his toes. They will not leave him. Would they prove suitable names? This was not a tradition that Sunstride had been born to. Sootstar chose his for him, named for the fiery red of his pelt and who he had been before. It is not so easy with the promise of kittens that will squirm and writhe and nothing more for what seems an eternity. Again, he sighs, and tucks a moorland flower into the mix.

＞ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES ╱ REFERENCE ╱ 07.10.2023 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕 〙ˊˎ＜

• ooc: —

• 

• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, monogamous. mate to wolfsong from 07.05.2023.  npc x npc, no larger family.
  —— has recently regained some of his earlier lightness, but maintains his steady facade.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red 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"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

── .∘°°∘. ── Though Wolfsong still nurses a longing for the mountains from time to time, it is not as powerful as it once was. It certainly is not at the height it reached when he and Sunstride were at odds with each other, Wolfsong able to think only of how things were once different— better. But now, with kits in his belly and Sunstride in his nest, there is little the mountains and his birthplace can offer him but nostalgia. WindClan is a home now more than it used to be, and though there are faces he misses from their old home, they are faces Wolfsong was willing to miss to remain at Sunstride's shoulder.

He finds his mate looking contemplative— and possibly even troubled. His tall figure sits within a quieter corner of camp, a feather, a gorse stalk, and flower stem joined before him. "What is this?" He asks in a lower rasp, coming to sit so their sides are pressed together. "It is not an offering I recognize. What troubles you, elskari?"
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 36 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge. — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know— he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel." — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you. — ☆☆☆☆☆ KITTING: He doesn't remember what it was like to be born. Coincidentally, that is the extent of his familiarity with kitting. At least he won't leave you without moral support.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you. — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[Mouseflight]

Mousepaw knew not of other places those within the now clans used to live, of course he had been told stories from the queens in the nursery when he had been in there, and from some of the older members of the clan when he had asked about them while stuck waiting for the day he could begin training, but there was not a single bone in the apprentice's body that longed for something other than WindClan and their moors. It was all he knew, and hopefully all he would ever know. He understood some of the longing those that were older in the clan felt for their old homes, even if he didn't know who it was who felt it. He knew that if they were to ever move for whatever reason he would miss the tunnels and moors that he'd grown used to, even with the dangers that also resided around the territory as well.

The young feline thought of the tunnels that he wished he could be in right in that moment as he looked around the camp, watching as others came and went from the entrance, either heading out or coming back from hunting or patrolling. He knew that later would be the time for training, the time for digging and learning how to keep track of stuff above him, but brain couldn't help but tire at the waiting and wanting something to do. When he saw Wolfsong walk over towards Sunstride, he almost looked away to find something else to watch or fixate on, but curiosity got the better of him and Mousepaw carefully got up, walking over to the two older males before eyes glanced down at Sunstride's paws. It took a few moments, but Mousepaw finally opened his maw, speaking only a few words. "Did you catch a weird bird or a weird... plant that grew a feather?" It was the only reason he could think of for having such an odd combination of things in the middle of the camp, and he was bored so wanted to talk to anyone about anything.

OOC INTERACTIONS ✧.·:·.*

• [ooc]
• windclan (sootstar) loyalist
  dirty fighter/will aim to kill
  will bully anyone (some more than others)
  

  
  

  likely to attack first
  powerplay peaceful actions okay
  ping if needed in a thread
  
• 
  8 months old
  ftm calico -- he/him
  tunneler apprentice
  
  large ears
  always looks grumpy

​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Sedgepaw was named Sedge because his parents love WindClan, or something. It's a pretty common theme throughout—to be named for the grasses, or the fields, or the creatures within. Or Sootstar herself, in some cases. But Sedgepaw thinks that it's all arbitrary at the end of the day. Names are just names. They don't prove anything about the cat until the day of a ceremony, when the superfluous prefix is paired with a chosen suffix, and everyone can recognize a warrior for a name that reflected them fully. Sedge is more a reflection on his parents more than anything. Maybe they just thought it was pretty.

That's not to say that he fully understands Sunstride's conundrum when he stumbles upon the senior warrior. The things tucked between his paws are random and inarticulate of his uncertainties. Wolfsong, tethered to his partner's emotions by the bend of his shoulders or twitching of his whiskers, is quick to catch on—Mousepaw and Sedgepaw, however, are quite lacking in that department.

"He's weaving," Sedge guesses, filing in beside Mousepaw and jostling the younger apprentice's shoulder with his own. He peers questioningly at Sunstride as he says it, hoping for confirmation. "Like...flower crowns, right?" Only with other stuff thrown in there besides just the flowers.​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

It wasn't very often that Rattleheart yearned for their life before Windclan. It was actually fairly difficult to remember what things had been like back then, when they and their siblings had been younger and more foolish. Going off on their own because they didn't just want to be what their parents expected of them. They never exactly thought of those days with revulsion. There was no need to, seeing as it wasn't like they had been mistreated. Isolated, perhaps, but not abused. When they did look back, though, they didn't really see anything that they wanted to return to. The tunneler felt no desire to leave the open plains or cramped tunnels of Windclan that had become so familiar to them, and they were fairly certain Scorchstreak and Lizardbounce felt the same way.

Windclan was home now, for better or worse.

Lengthy strides carried them into camp as they held a rather fat hare carefully in their jaws. A lucky catch, one brought about by prey starting to feel the changing of the seasons. Leafbare would sneak up on all of them before too long, and everything was eager to fatten up and burrow away. Which led to a lot of perfect opportunities for a hidden away tunneler. There was a cheerful look on their face that only faltered when they noticed a group gathered at one corner of camp, odd questions being tossed about from the nearby apprentices. They had to admit their curiosity was piqued, depositing their catch in the freshkill pile without fuss before making their way over.

Much like the others packed around Sunstride, Rattle didn't immediately recognize what the lead warrior's bobbles were for. They looked seemingly random, although clutched between his toes like they were the most important things in the world to him. Flower crowns didn't seem likely, considering they hadn't seen many feathers involved in them before. Though, another idea came stumbling forward into their mind. "Offerings for the kits? I've seen some parents give their new little ones trinkets of the world before... a sign of welcoming them in." They'd always thought it was a cute gesture, though they'd never pondered what they would give their own kits in such a situation. Not that they'd really thought about whether they'd have kits at all.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[Bluepool]

"SPEECH"
Bluepool is not the type to be interested in kits, wants none of her own unless it is for the reason of strengthening WindClan, continuing on her blood line. She wonders if Sunstride and Wolfsong think similarly, that their kits would be strong (for certainly they would be, coming from such a union) She regards both of the toms curiously, like many of her clanmates, wondering what it is Sunstride is doing with such seemingly random scraps of things.

Mousepaw suggests its a weird catch but that can't be it, neither can it be what Sedgepaw was suggesting. She wrinkles her nose in disgust at the thought of her fellow lead warrior sitting about making flower crowns. It was a detestable thing to think about, a disgusting waste of time in her opinion. If you wanted an accessory such as that you may as well go become a kittypet in her eyes. No, it had to be something else. Rattleheart's suggestion makes the most sense in her mind. She nods her head along with the black and white warriors words, making no comment except a low hum in the back of her throat as she awaits the lead warriors answer.

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I AM SORRY THIS IS ALWAYS HOW IT GOES ❀❀​

---

periwinklebreeze & 12 moons & demi-boy & he/they & windclan moor runner​

---

New life is something peri feels will always be welcome - even if he is not so happy about the circumstances, and usually takes to avoiding wolfsong as though he has fleas. But he cannot help but watch the two toms as they speak, gaze drawn before he can help - thoughts fluttering about his fragile mind. He wonders if someday he too will be blessed with such a thing - he thinks not, honestly, he's always known his inclinations leaned towards toms, and there are so few within windclan capable of reproduction. And... his heart certainly seems set on one in particular, though he does his best to ignore such dangerous thoughts. He will not make the same mistake twice. "Th-those would make g-good g-g-g-gifts," he agrees gently, though its a stilted and awkward thing - uncertainty abound in his eyes and even his posture, perched as though ready to flee.

— the wind blows loudest when you've got your eyes closed ❀

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a lithe figured black and white tom with a false-pointed pattern and clear blue eyes that gleam periwinkle in the right lighting. he seems perpetually worn and exhausted, with heavy bags beneath his eyes and a slouched figure. he has a speech impediment which leaves him with a stutter and sometimes even completely non-verbal, and his fluffy tail is adorned with daisies.
  
  — physically medium && mentally easy && pacifist
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ccccff]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[SUNNVAR]

It is intriguing to see them guess. Though he had not intended to let it linger so long, his mouth had caught upon Wolfsong where he approaches, and the comfort of his lean. Absurd, that once he had denied himself this. That them resting against each other had always meant much, but never enough. How foolish it was to pretend that he had not wanted to lean his weight back into the rounding healer and have it mean this for the both of them. By the time he has managed to gather his thoughts away from his very presence and towards the topic at hand, the group around them had grown to near comical size. He looks to each of them with helpless amusement, though it is only after the last of them speaks that he finally allows it to break through. A warm laugh, not directed to any of them in particular.

"I do not think I am troubled at all," he assures. Even with his brow weighed by thought, contentment reigns in his mind. The allowance of this, the promise that he would have it. There is no denying his worry (his own mother, gone before he could ever know her; his father, impassive and displeased as they said their farewells), yet when he sees his mate, his clanmates, gathered around him...he knows that he is not alone in this journey they will take. "They are closest to an offering, or a gift to our kits." He drags one claw slowly along the feather's vanes, seeing how it ripples. This he turns and tucks into Wolfsong's fur, nearest to his shoulder. "For safekeeping," he explains. The others are quickly tucked into a similar place, though the bright moor flower is given to his own pelt. Wolfsong seeks comfort in natural colors during these worrisome months. He will be bright as a flame for him in return.

"I simply struggle to think of names for them." To admit this before the crowd has Sunstride feeling suddenly and terribly vulnerable. He would trust them with anything, and yet– they will be small, and fragile, and squirming, and his. To speak of his weakness for them is to speak of their weakness entirely. "If there was anything that I could give to them, it would be a place in these moors that I cannot claim." Raw, uncertain, glacial eyes flit between the gathered group. To admit this before Sedgepaw and Mousepaw in particular is a moment of frailty. "I am not built for this place. Though I am glad to be trusted, I know that my paws are not as swift, nor my shoulders as slim as a WindClanner's must be to thrive. I wish only to give them pieces of this moorland, and hope that they will surpass the both of us in time."

＞ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES ╱ REFERENCE ╱ 07.10.2023 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕 〙ˊˎ＜

• ooc: —

• 

• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, monogamous. mate to wolfsong from 07.05.2023.  npc x npc, no larger family.
  —— has recently regained some of his earlier lightness, but maintains his steady facade.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red 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"

​