camp pink pony club | sunning


Baby steps.

Robinheart has tasted freedom, been granted access to camp for brief stints of time, and already her mood has lightened significantly. No longer does she feel trapped within walls tinged in herb essence and frustration. Moonbeam makes her patients feel welcomed and comfortable, but there’s no denying that they don’t wish to be there. They want to be in their own nests, conducting their own duties to their clanmates and families.

Family.

The tortoiseshell will get to spend time with hers again. Supervised visits with her kits. Updates from her mother and Willowroot. Sharing tongues with her fellow queens and friends. She has missed those interactions - those little moments that don’t feel important until they are removed from one’s schedule.

She lays a few tail lengths from the medicine den, soaking in the morning sun before the day grows too hot. Her still mending leg is cushioned with a bit of moss to keep it stable, and to aid as a visual reminder to not touch or jostle it too much. Citrine eyes shine bright in the morning light as she glances around camp before looking towards the nursery, silently begging for her children to emerge to play and spot her across the sand. Oh how her heart soars for that reunion.
[ penned by kerms ]
 

It's crazy how a minor change can broaden one's horizons to the point of making it all feel brand new. Minor change is subjective — for Eveningpaw, the entire world has shifted by becoming an apprentice, even if this very development definitely doesn't amount to much for the more senior warriors. All that experience has hardened them, vision not quite sticking to the smaller details anymore. Would she feel that way in the moons and years to come? It feels impossible; how could she not appreciate how different the grass feels outside of camp, where cats don't tread on it with the same consistency?

She takes great joy in the minute task of dipping moss into the river. It's a chore, by all means, and she could very easily have used the stream that isolates the camp from less-skilled intruders... but that feels boring and stupid, now that she can hop outside the entrance and get water from there! Eveningpaw doubts she sees any foreboding boredom in her future anytime soon.

There's a typical hop in her step as she returns, eyes instantly drawn to a familiar pelt. "Robinheart!" The queen's presence in the nursery feels like a lifetime ago; her injuries had kept her away from her kittens, but perhaps she can find silver lining in having avoided a fidgety Eveningpaw these past few days.

"Did Moonbeam finally let you out?" Golden eyes rest on that still-mending leg, the sight enough to give Eveningpaw a weird itch in her own. "When will you get to walk around and do stuff again? We really missed you in the nursery, you know. Here!" The onslaught of words is halted only when she remembers to drop her own ball of moss, right between Robinheart's paws. It might not be hot yet, but she must be parched... or so Eveningpaw thinks, using only herself and her restless mouth as comparison.
 

Robinheart's appearance had already brightened camp- to know a warrior, a queen, had gone through something so traumatic and came out the other side near-perfectly okay was... uplifting. And being a mother on top of all of that? Claythorn's eyes regarded the other as she emerged from the medicine den to sun, and sighed softly, her own vision tilting up towards green leaves that swayed with greenleaf winds.

Eveningpaw is first to greet the queen, and Claythorn can deny no longer that she found herself wanting to speak to Robinheart as well. Claythorn steps closer, ears perked as she listened to Eveningpaw's onslaught of questions. ".. It is good to see you up and moving, Robinheart." Claythorn murmured, vision shifting towards the queen and away from the wet moss plopped between the queen's paws.

Perhaps there was a flicker of nervousness knowing that she may be where Robinheart lay one day. Seperated from her kits for a pawful of days- nearly a moon? Was that going to be a reality for her as well? An awful thought, one that caused Claythorn to sit nearby, listening quietly to any response or approaching kits.
  • "speech"
  • 4X9gAED.png
  • 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.

 
〕Owlkit woke from her midday nap to the sound of a few older cats outside the den chirping about something or the other. She set large, curious blues at the entrance before toddling out, trying her best to keep her feet beneath her but ultimately she ended up falling head first onto the reeds that padded the outside of the nursery's entrance. She mewed and quickly tried to scramble up but she, unfortunately, met an untimely end with her face in the ground again.

She put her face towards the group, pathetically mewing and in need of assistance as they continued to talk. "Hwelp me pwease!"
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  • ooc.
  • OWLKIT —— kit (wetpaw) of riverclan , mentored by no one . lilacbird x dust . littermate to violetkit & gentlekit & twilightkit ☾ penned by helly
    cis female / she/her / 3 moons & ages every 1st
    single / heterosexual & monoflexible / open to romance
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— combat notes here / battle notes

    speech, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
    biography — msg on discord for plots (hellycinth) — toyhouse
  • 83258315_PAD7DG5BPl1epe6.png

    a shorthaired cinnamon spotted tabby/fawn spotted tabby chimera with low white & blue eyes no scarring.
 
"Careful, Owlkit." Iciclefang leans down to nudge the clumsy kitten upright; her blue eyes remain fixed on Robinheart, carefully sunning herself just outside the medicine cat's den near Eveningpaw and Claythorn. Her amber eyes skim hopefully across camp, perhaps hoping her own little ones would come bounding out of the nursery to visit her. Iciclefang glances behind her, wondering if one of them would try and follow Owlkit out.

"You're looking much better, Robinheart. It's been lonely in the nursery without you and Hazecloud." She smiles faintly. Lonely isn't necessarily the right word; after all, even with Eveningpaw and her littermates gone, there were more than enough kits to keep the brindled queen company. Still, she misses having uninhibited adult discussions more than she can express.

  • ooc:
  • DEuJTnr.jpg
  • Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 24 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
    — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
    — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
    — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.


 
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Her presence acts not as a beacon to her children at first, but instead drawing in friends and nursery (prior and current) residents. Each soul is met with a warm smile gifted by the red crested molly herself. A gleam in sun bright eyes at conversations to be had that weren’t under hushed breath to pay respect to the other medicine den residents.

Eveningpaw is the first to approach, bounding like a summer fawn with newfound freedoms. Excitement wafts from the daughter of Hazecloud and Lichenstar - words soon pouring out and caressing Robinheart’s eager ears. “Hello Eveningpaw,” the queen greets with more subdued excitement, nodding in welcome to the apprentice. “Moonbeam recommended I start getting up and moving now. Not too much - just enough to keep my muscles working and stuff,” she explains (kind of), now wishing she had paid a bit more attention to what the medicine cat had explained beyond just getting permission to leave the medicine den. “I still have another moon or so of healing to go, but I’m sure the time will go by much faster now that I have a bit more freedom. Speaking of freedom,” she muses with a tilt of her head, “how are you enjoying being an apprentice now? Any fun stories so far?” The tortoiseshell can recall some fun times during her apprenticeship - times when the clan wasn’t being attacked by rogues or starving in leafbare.

While taking a drink of water from the moss ball given to her, Robinheart listens to Claythorn’s greeting and rumbles a soft purr in return. “It’s nice being up and moving again. I’ve missed all of this. I’ve missed seeing everyone,” she remarks as she lifts her head once more. “How have you been, my friend?” Perhaps they’ve never officially called themselves friends but Robinheart does regard the other as a friend.

A squeak of a voice rings out by the nursery and citrine eyes snap that way in hopes of seeing familiar pelts she so lovingly knit together within herself. Robinheart hides the disappointment well, seeing that it is not one of her kids but one of Lilacbird’s instead. Fortunately Iciclefang is not far behind and helps poor Owlkit out.

“It has been lonely without you and Hazecloud as well, Iciclefang,” Robinheart mirrors with a smirk, though it’s clear the sadness flickering in twin suns over missing out on important moments within the nursery. “I still had so much to learn from you two before… this happened. The nursery won’t be the same once I’m able to move back in.” Iciclefang will resume her duties and the nursery will feel a lot emptier without the queens she had leaned on for support and their kits she had watched grow up.
[ penned by kerms ]
 
The guardian of the nursery for his siblings. That was his role for now in case Moonbeam attempted to 'kidnap' Rivuletkit once more and take her away, just as he did his mother. The rumbling life of Riverclan made his curled ears flick and occasionally flatten if the noise was too loud, suppressing a yawn that tried to part his jaws. A green gaze representing the leaves of Greenleaf flickers as he glances at his siblings before drifting off to the camp where he spots the bustling group of warriors and apprentices gathering. He stares for a moment and gets ready to look away when the distantly familiar voice of his mother.

Had she escaped the white cat's den after being hostage for so long? Redkit quickly uses a paw to shake his siblings and points at their mother, and it doesn't take a moment after until the young knight is charging forth. Bright orange ears flatten and he wonders if he's dreaming for a moment, staring at his mother in disbelief. Did he eat too much and have a pleasant dream? ”Mama?” The tom kit murmurs as his ivory whiskers flick at the familiar scent of his mother, and he moves forth to rub his head against her chest.

”I missed you, mama.”
 

A silent wish is granted in hues of spark and flame, a distant torch growing brighter as much too large kitten paws carried her son to her.

Robinheart’s maw splits into a grin, her citrine gaze filling suddenly with joyous mist. “Look at you,” she coos breathlessly as Redkit slows his pace - staring at her at first with uncertainty. As if she is a figment of his burgeoning imagination. “It’s me, Redkit, it’s me.” That’s all she can muster before he presses into her, fiery pelt blending with the crested flame of her chest. A piece of a much larger puzzle fitting back together. Gently she pulls him in closer with a front paw and simply holds him.

It’s been far too long.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Robinheart finally whispers, nuzzling the soft fur between his ears. She marvels at the tuft slopes of them - just like your ears, Brookstorm. And his eyes… like the leaves of the trees or the grass of the riverbanks. Mirrors of his starbound mother. Her heart pangs bittersweet as memories flood in. All the days and nights she gazed into emerald eyes and whispered sweet nothings into curled ears. Soon enough she will get to do so again; though in a very different way, with love for her children gifted to her by her mate.

Thank you, Brookstorm.
[ penned by kerms ]
 
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