Dusk has brought with it a cooling of the scorching air and what he initially thinks to be a return of the burnt - off morning mist. The lightest featherings of droplets kiss the landscape, drifting through the medicine den's tightly woven canopy to brush his sore face with a soothing touch. He'd guess it to be an unusual fog brought along with the sinking of the molten - red greenleaf sun and the air's loss of heat, but the smell of petrichor drifts through the entrance's moss drapery to bring a pleasant intermission from the strong medicinal odor of herbs that's been sitting, heavy and cloyingly bitter, on his palate ever since he took up residence here. Cicadaflight has no idea how Beefang tolerates it.
. . . Speaking of, both his healing sister and the white - furred medicine cat are absent from the den this evening, along with Robinheart. While the tortie is likely out visiting her kits, he doesn't doubt Beefang and Moonbeam are . . . off canoodling somewhere. Amused by his own thought, the tom lets out an ungraceful snort in the herbal silence of the den; the pair are far from public, but he knows both she - cats pretty well, and they sleep in the same nest, for StarClan's sake. He's not a complete minnowbrain when it comes to romance, despite what his own . . . lacking prospects might indicate.
. . . Also speaking of, wait, the den's empty! There's a moment waiting to be seized! Two - toned eyes glance surreptiously around, as though Moonbeam or his sister might appear out of thin air and whack him over the head for even thinking of leaving before he's supposed to. A bottlebrush tail flicks from side to side, almost doglike in its wagging, as he paws through the sand under his nest . . . where? There! Towing his prize out from the slightly damp earth, he brushes it off with his paws before pinching it gingerly between the fangs on the functional side of his mouth. Thank the stars, he has at least a little self - awareness, enough to force his tail to still before he slinks out under the moss curtain.
" Hey! " His greeting is muffled by both the item in his jaws and the barely - healed damage to his face, but that doesn't inhibit its obvious cheer as he pads up to a familiar blue - and - white pelt. One of the day's visitors had mentioned @Driftwood would be on guard duty . . . and though he found the mistlike rain of the evening refreshing, it probably wasn't nearly as nice when one was sitting out in it. Hopefully this would be a little distraction.
" 'S for you, " he rasps happily as he plunks down the gift in front of the other warrior, his jaw sighing in relief as he straightens up, blinking hopefully down at them. His voice is still more than a little muffled by bandages and damage, but the lighthearted sentiment is there. " Figured it might help make guard duty a little less boring. " Before Driftwood's paws lies a shell of decent size, iridescent and rippling a variety of shades but with a distinctive golden hue. His tail twitches behind him as the warrior ducks his head, bicolor gaze flicking towards the guard and away. " It, um, reminded me of your eyes. "
" Anyways, I should probably . . . " He trails off, posture stiffening from a rare relaxation as his jittering eyes land squarely on the other night guard. If he'd been awake for the rest of the visitor's chat, perhaps he wouldn't have come to visit now . . . ugh. Of course it's @SANDPELT, of all cats, interrupting his nice conversation with his friend by being . . . aggravatingly . . . there. His long muzzle rumples for a moment before he has the sense to smooth the unhappiness off his face. " . . . Oh. "
OOC : No need to wait for either of the two mentioned to post!
(☼) the flicker of black and white fur in the dull light of the clouded sky is not unusual to see within camp. there are plenty with that coloring, three of whom share heritage with pebblepaw himself. still, as the scent of herbs wafts his way, he focuses his gaze more, catching sight of a cat who certainly should not be out in this rain. his cousin pokes his head out of the medicine den with a conspiratorial look on his half-healed face. pebblepaw watches as the tomcat scurries as gracefully as he can out towards the edge of camp, where two figures sit on guard. he drops something at the paws of driftwood. curiosity gets the better of the boy, and he gets to his paws from where he crouches beneath an overhanging willow branch, out of touch from the misting rain. cringing as his pelt is dampened (seriously, he's a riverclanner, yeah, but rain sucks,) the storm-hued apprentice pads over to his cousin, amused disapproval in his gaze. "escaped?" he asks slyly as he passes, pausing to appreciate the golden gleam of the shell that now rests near driftwood's paws.
"moonbeam wouldn't like to hear about this..." of course, his tone is teasing. even if he's worried about infection, or the scarred warrior reopening his injuries, he's not going to tell the older man what to do. he hears the words his cousin speaks, reminded me of your eyes, and his own eyes widen. oh... ohhhh! could it be? no way cicadaflight would be this open about it, but here he is, presenting driftwood with pretty gift. in full line of sight of sandpelt, no less, his moons long rival. how fascinating. pebblepaw doesn't mean to pry, because he's been raised to be polite, but how he longs to snatch his cousin off and question him in secret. he smiles to himself - there's no harm in a little personal suspicion, after all.
// pebblepaw is me i am him and we both have suspicions xoxo " #848DAE"
PEBBLEPAW ☼ HE / HIM, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORED BY FOXTAIL. 8 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblepaw's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
Guard duty was a certainly a boring job, although, Driftwood well knew it was honorable as well. They were sat near Sandpelt, whom seemed more serious about the job but they found themselves throwing topic points to make the time pass while eyes scanned their surroundings. It was better to get to know who was working with them, sitting in silence was an awkward way to make time fly so they took the opportunity to try to smooth it out with their typical conversative pokes and friendly smirk to initiate socialization.
Cicadaflight had been in the healers den, attacked by a dog, they did their best to visit their new friend when allowed. Although, it certainly was more restricted. He'd get better, they trusted. It hadn't been as bad as their former lead warrior and her mate. Atleast he was alive, therefore they didn't worry too much. Hopefully Moonbeam carried the responsibility of conversating to dust away the loneliness but they were sure the medicine cat had a lot more on her hands than to do such regularly. Driftwood would just make up for lost time when he was better.
Although, a familiar voice rung near them suddenly. Of unexpectance, they lightly jumped. Although, they quickly recovered with a grin at the sight of the curly furred tom,"Cicadaflight..!" They quietly exclaimed as of not to get her friend in trouble, humored by the escape of the med den with a horribly surpressed chuckle. It seemed they weren't the only one with a hidden mischievous spark. Interesting, just to see them, more so to see the pretty shell that was clamped in his jaws. Their gaze sparkled from humor and intrigue.
And- oh..! It was for them?
How surprising. How sweet. The risky approach itself was blush worthy, something they didn't expect from him. It was startling almost. They didn't think anyone had gone to these measures for them. This was new. New was drawing, new was good. "O-Oh! Oh, really? Thank you! Yes, this will help immensely!" They purred, a paw lifting to accept the offer. How couldn't they when he had gone to such lengths? Not to mention, the shell was quite beautiful.
" It, um, reminded me of your eyes."
They giggled from surprise with a purr, "That's- That's so flattering! Thank you, Cicadaflight. This is special to me, just like you are." A smooth exchange despite the heat that gently touched their face, their blue paw drew the shell to sit between their legs to keep it safe.
When sunny like gaze settled upon the Tom once more they noted the unhappiness directed to their company. Driftwood held back a laugh, directing their attention to Sandpelt. "As you can tell, this is my good friend Cicadaflight. He's very caring." It was obvious the two weren't on good terms, but how about giving clarity to the situation to smooth it all out. An argument was sure to draw attention to their friend and get them in trouble. Hopefully, their presence was enough from it getting anywhere. Everyone knew it was awkward to argue between a cat bewildered of the hostile situation.
As once before, they drew it back quickly to Cicadaflight. "I'll catch up with you as soon as you're out, this is very dearing, Cicadaflight. Take the reeds quietly, don't want to get caught..!" A playful tease with a light brush of their tail to his shoulder, they offered him an excuse to get away from the situation before it got cold. Although, that was entirely up to him. A tense exchange or not they were going to be there, it didn't matter to them.
Claythorn's eyebrow twitched in irritation. This fool of a warrior was out of the medicine den, for one reason or another. She inhaled hotly as she stepped out of the warrior den, where she had taken shelter from the mist of water on top of the driving heat. The petrichor was heavy in the air, something that always relaxed her, but the fine misting was driving her nuts. Ears twisted backwards as she padded closer, eyes observing the interaction.
Cicadaflight, gifting Driftwood a stone, right in front of Sandpelt. It felt like taunting. Which, honestly, Claythorn had half a mind to stand there and watch it happen, but the amusement wouldn't last for long. Especially considering the state of Cicadaflight's mouth. She inhaled sharply, coming to a stop next to Pebblepaw, ears pushing forward as she spoke. "No, Moonbeam would not be happy to hear about this. I don't think Beefang would either." Claythorn remarked in her normal cool tone.
Not that Claythorn had any idea where the two cats were, but they were sure to be back soon. She couldn't imagine Moonbeam made a habit of staying away from active patients for longer then she needed to. Water beaded on her back and fur, rolling off thanks to the oils in the fish they all ate. "Well? Hurry up and go lay back down." Claythorn had given the two guards and Cicadaflight a few beats of silence before pressing the issue again, shifting in more-then-minor irritation.
CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven 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 ⭃ no current love interest / / only child ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
ꕀꕀ Guard duty normally passes by quickly for Sandpelt. Idly chatting with another warrior about the sun, the moon, the stars, and everything in between makes him content to sit in one place for hours at a time—and Driftwood makes for decent enough company, so he doesn’t mind the guard duty at all. It isn’t until an unexpected, unwanted, horrible voice pipes up that he turns his head to look at Driftwood again. The other warrior has been in his blind spot, so he hadn’t even noticed their visitor until now. Even if his face wasn’t ruined, it’s still instantly recognizable to Sandpelt. It’s the face that’s haunted his dreams, his nightmares, since he’d first been beaten in a kithood spar.
He’s struck silent as the taller tom offers a gift—a gift!—to Driftwood, lying a beautiful shell at their paws. His own parents’ words flood back to him, harsh and expectant. Cicadaflight doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s here yet; the fool averts his mismatched eyes like he’s some sheepish, in-love kit. Sandpelt’s mouth dips into a scowl. Stupid. He hears Claythorn approach them behind Pebblepaw, and turns to look at both of the other visitors who speak up.
Great. Now there’s a crowd, and he doesn’t like the amount of attention on him. He doesn’t like any of this. His yellow eye bounces around, gaze flitting from cat to cat, before it lands on Driftwood as they introduce Cicadaflight to him, for some reason. His eye twitches—he can feel it, so it must be obvious to everyone else around him. "Yeah. I know ’im," he grits out between clenched teeth, one ear flicking with visible annoyance. Claythorn and Pebblepaw each remark on how upset Moonbeam would be to see Cicadaflight out of the den, and the tan tortoiseshell understands their warnings. Moonbeam would probably be furious to see all of the hard work she’d put into saving his sorry tail be undone. But that’s… that’s it. The situation is resolved now. So why does Sandpelt have to say something else?
His focus centers on the black and white tom, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. "If y’all are so friendly, then why don’t ya just take guard duty? Either pitch in ’r stop distractin’ us." He can feel the heat of his face, embarrassed despite not having anything to be embarrassed about. He must look a mess, too—his hackles are bristles up in a show of irritation, lone yellow eye focused narrow and fiery on Cicadaflight. Ugly. Stupid. Useless. A total failure, yet he’s better than Sandpelt in every way. And now, he’s talking to Driftwood like they’re… like they’re close or something. His anger at the revelation is irrational, he knows. It only makes him feel more angry, though—why can’t the bug-eyed, split-faced freak just be normal?
SANDPELT❯❯ he/him, warrior of riverclan ❀ pretty, silky-furred tan tortoiseshell with one yellow eye. calm and hardworking, but can become snappy if angered. ❀ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ❀ penned by foxlore
" Just for a minute, " he rumbles, flicking Pebblepaw affectionately with his tail. It's not like he's going to get some kind of gross jaw infection from being outside of the medicine den for a couple moments, for StarClan's sake . . . although Pebblepaw is correct . . . if Moonbeam ( or Beefang, for that matter ) figure out he's manage to weasel his way out of his mandatory, seemingly endless rest—even if only for a moment—he's going to have earned himself a hearty swat over the ears and ( another ) talking - to. Ears twitching with mild repentance, duotone eyes flick faux - pleadingly towards his cousin as he rasps pleadingly, " What she doesn't know won't hurt her? "
His gaze flicks back towards Driftwood, amber and ice glittering hopefully and crooked bottlebrush tail twitching behind him as he awaits their reaction, momentarily drawn away from his irritation with the other, significantly less nice night guard. " 'M glad, then, " he practically chirps, stooped and still as usual, although his flicking tail indicates he might well be bouncing on his paws if not for the challenge of maintaining what he hopes is a cool, calm composure. A grin breaks onto the unbandaged half of his face, crinkling a rime - toned eye . . . his silly gift draws a purr out of Driftwood's pale - furred chest and he can't help but smile, although it sends a fresh ache through his wounds. " Yeah, I— "
This is special to me, just like you are. Whatever sentence he'd been starting trails off into silence as his alternately hued eyes go wide . . . Cicadaflight swears he can feel heat scorching his pelt down to the tips of his white - laced paws. " Uh—you're welcome—and thanks. " he manages, cringing to himself as he shuffles his forepaws in the rain - dampened sand . . . looking a little like a flustered apprentice with the way he trains his gaze on ivory - spotted paws.
. . . Of course, Sandpelt has to loudly remind them that he is there and annoying as per usual.
" We're familiar, " he grunts at the same time as Sandpelt snaps, Yeah. I know 'im. Their entangled responses elicits a quick absence of his brief smile, face heading right past neutral territory and straight into a scowl. He's damn tempted to ask Sandpelt whether he'd like to take this to the sparring grounds here and now, but . . . the warrior glances towards a sunny - eyed Driftwood and sighs, his path righted more by their presence than the tenuously healing wounds to his face. He'll just have to remind Sandpelt exactly who has been beating his sorry ass in spars since before they caught their first fish once Moonbeam's cleared him.
" I was just leaving, anyways, " he snaps out in response to the cream tom's bristling retort, feeling his injury smart as he instinctively clenches his jaw. His newfound animosity's directed more towards Sandpelt, but the sentiment is also meant to placate an unamused - looking Claythorn, who, much like the rest of the impromptu audience, orders him back to his nest. " Yeah, yeah, " he sighs in the general direction of the chocolate torbie. " 'M going. "
" Yeah—yeah, I'll see you, " he splutters when Driftwood draws their tail over his shoulder and nods for him to take his leave. Moonbeam can't let me out of this stars - forsaken den fast enough . . ." Uh, come and visit if you can? It's really boring shut up in there all day—okay, going for real now, " he tosses over his shoulder with a hoarse chuckle as he slinks back towards the medicine den's moss - veiled entrance, crooked tail wagging behind him.
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