OPEN ARMS, NO MORE LIES .. INTRO !

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — A few beats of silence passed as a gentle breeze brushed through his fur. The smallest hint of a smile appeared on the toms maw, the private moment to himself lifting his low spirits. A mouse's tail hung from Sabletuft's mouth, still fresh from the morning. The balmy spring was easing into warmer temps, and Sabletuft looked forward to being met with the warm winds over the cold. Even more the rise in available prey.

"Your favorite season's coming soon..." He murmured to himself, sighing as the breeze whisked between the pines. Sabletuft followed them, still muttering to himself as if someone was there. Eventually his paws were led back to the entrance of ShadowClan's camp, the grassy path turning barren. A deep exhale to prepare himself, and Sabletuft stepped into his home. His tail twitched back and forth as he meandered toward the entrance of the stump, dropping his catch off for the elders hidden inside. He paused for a moment to take a sweeping glance over the rest of camp, seeing if there was something else to do. — tags​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

There's an air of melancholy about the dark-pelted warrior when he returns to camp with his prey. Granitepaw wonders why; after all, newleaf seems to have, in general, lifted every other cat's spirits. Perhaps impending war is weighing on his mind, but the smoke-furred apprentice finds himself dismissive regardless. He can see the other cat's orange eyes scanning camp, as though looking for their next task to lock onto.

"I'm on den repair today. The other cat assigned isn't here." He snorts to show what he thinks of that. "Typical." It's not an outright offer to join him, but it's as close as Granitepaw can get.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — Ears pivot to where Granitepaw stood speaking to him. Although he was more driven for fieldwork to keep him busy, he supposed it wouldn't kill him to aid the apprentice. How unfortunate his task-partner bailed- lousy.

Sabletuft turned to face Granitepaw with a small grunt, looking over the dens behind them. "That is quite a bit of work just by yourself." He agreed, scarred shoulders shrugging in some form of acceptance to the unofficial invitation. "So, if we finish before sundown, appreciation from the Clan would be in order. Whatever it is you prefer to do when not training, I can take you out to do." The high of his light mood was still present from his time alone. Might as well share it with whoever else came his way, too. — tags​

 

[hitch]

Rosemire's been considering disappearing into the marshes again lately, and it's no coincidence that the urge comes at the tail-end of yet another fucking bout of clan squabbling. Maybe it's cowardice, or maybe he's tired of timing the peace, of tracking its brevity and wondering which of the kits will be apprentices they are comfortable with losing and forgetting. Shit, they all gather near the graves of the Great Battle and still nothing has changed.

For now, he'll swallow it down. For now, he'll pretend he can wear his own skin comfortably. 'Til that changes, life goes on as it always does, and the pale feline pauses in his trek through camp, sharply-peaked ears twitching.

"It might not be intentional," he tells Granitepaw lightly, though he's not looking at the apprentice. "The mud might have swallowed them up and spat out a measly bone or two, which something else might have eaten, and then we eat that something else, and now we have a few unknowing cannibals among us." He flicks a bit of soil from a white paw, wet but not wet enough to be mud. His gaze finds Sabletuft, dull despite its bright hue. At least he seems to be in a gentler mood than usual.

"It'll go faster with three of us. Not that I'm expecting you to take me out on a jaunt through the swamp as a treat." Rosemire's mouth twitches. "Actually, that sounds like a punishment."

I N F O R M A T I O N
​

​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

❪ TAGS ❫ — "I could make it four." Roosterstrut chirps as he inserts himself into the conversation between his clanmates, a friendly smile gracing his features. Sabletuft's seemingly mellow attitude had initially caught Roosterstrut's attention, as the older tom never seemed to be in high spirits at all (and who could blame him?).

His pale green hues lifted toward the open skies above camp before he settled them back onto the trio before him. "It's too nice out to be stuck in camp all day." Roosterstrut wasn't denying that there was maintenance that needed to be done in order to keep the camp looking spiffy, but assigning only two cats to such a tedious task didn't seem very effective at all. Besides, he wasn't slated to be doing anything else at the moment, so why not do something productive?​

 

[Willowpatch]

"TO MEET YOU UNDERNEATH THE MOONLIGHT"​

Delicate paws would carry the form of Willowpatch into camp not a few heartbeats after Sabletuft, her maw filled to the aching brim with her usual supplies. Weeds and cattails and fronds of all sorts tickled her nose as she made it toward her den to sort through her findings.

Her olive-green eyes spot a few familiar faces near the elder's den, and she waves her tail in greeting to any who happens to look her way. Curiosity soon gets the better of her and she changes course, bundles still in her jaws, until she is standing beside Roosterstrut. Dropping her supplies, the molly would lick her maw before meowing, "What's going on? You've got quite the group growing here."

Her tone is light and friendly, one she reserves solely for her clanmates to hear within the comfort and safety of their home. She gives each cat a smile of greeting, waiting for one of them to let in her on the purpose of the group.​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — He wasn't expecting more than just himself to be inclined to help out, especially Rosemire of all cats. Sabletuft was hesitant to stick around very long, worried his patience would once again diminish the second the warriors snide remarks cut and odd humor distracts them. And to no surprise, that is how his entrance begins. "That would be up to Granitepaw if thats what he wants to do, I'm just carrying out the reward for a job well done." Years of experience residing in the swamp had allowed Sabletuft to grow accustomed to its behaviors. The dreadful summer humidity, the bone-chilling winters, the constant feel of peat stuck between his toes. It was the feeling of home for him, after all.

The pair that followed after drew his attention next. Sabletuft politely greeted Willowpatch with a small nod. "Good morning to you two as well. We're conquering the days tasks for the day. Den repair, specifically." He informed her kindly. He was inclined to agree with Roosterstrut, having just come from outside. There was far too much opportunity out there than to keep so many bodies here. "Then we should get started, someone can collect supplies while the rest of us pull off the debris and unsalvageable parts. Or pair off, however you choose. Since we're already here we can start with the stump." He got to work with stamping a paw against one of the decayed branches, sweeping off old bits of moss and rotten leaves. — tags​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepaw snorts, his fur prickling at the approach of so many warriors. "I don't think it takes six cats to fix dens," he mutters, ears flattening. He supposes he should take the opportunity given to leave and gather supplies, though. He eyes Rosemire, who speaks to him without looking his way at all. Odd; he can't help but wonder why that might be. "I'll go and get stuff to fix it with. Suppose WindClan could storm in here at any time."

Granitepaw nods his head to Rosemire, indicating wordlessly he'd like the white warrior to accompany him into the marsh. He isn't sure why -- it's just an inkling. Perhaps it's because he'd been so opposed to Sabletuft's suggestion to get out of camp.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[hitch]

As Roosterstrut insinuates himself into their merry trio, and Willowpatch follows, he starts to consider whether he'll be all that useful. An itch burrows up under his scruff, and then at the backs of his legs, and he fidgets as surreptitiously as possible while Sabletuft explains their noble endeavor of the day. His ears twitch, then flick as though knocking away an insistent gnat, but this particular beastie isn't so easily dissuaded. He swallows hard and forces a grin, prepared to make some blase comment and retreat someplace quiet, but Granitepaw puts that plan on hold. Damn.

Probably should have made sure the kid wasn't in his line of sight— he wouldn't have caught the gesture at all.

"Oh, I'm happy to kick the dents out of the walls, but you should probably take someone whose fur doesn't give everything with a set of eyes an invitation," he says with a chuckle, his gaze fixed on the air near the apprentice. He has an oddly serious face that makes him uncomfortable, and considering he's a step from crawling out of his body, it's probably a good idea to avoid further disconfort. "You'll have to carry everything back all on your lonesome, and I'll be frog-food."

I N F O R M A T I O N
​

​