push on through ] searching for materials

[STATICHAZE]

Statichaze pads through SkyClan's territory, the chilly air nipping at her fur as she surveys her surroundings for anything that might help insulate the nests back in camp. Leaf-fall has settled in, and the threat of harsher weather lingers with each passing day. It has become part of her routine the last few days, seeking out materials that can keep her Clanmates warm, especially the kits and elders who are most vulnerable to the dropping temperatures. Her breath comes out in small puffs as she moves, ears twitching to catch any sounds that might signal something interesting. The forest floor is littered with crunchy leaves, but she's not looking for those—they crumble too easily to be much help against the cold. Instead, she's searching for softer materials, anything that will retain warmth in the dens as the winds pick up and grow sharper. Statichaze's mind wanders to the nests in the nursery. She envisions adding layers to the bedding, securing comfort and warmth around the kits nestled inside. As a queen herself, she's always felt a fierce responsibility to ensure every cat in her care is safe and comfortable.

After a while, she catches sight of a cluster of bushes near the base of an old tree, branches low and covered in what looks like a flurry of feathers. Intrigued, she makes her way over, carefully sniffing at the ground. She realizes she's stumbled upon an old bird nest, likely abandoned as the cold season approaches. Feathers are scattered all around, some caught in the twigs, others littered on the forest floor. Statichaze's whiskers twitch with excitement as she realizes the feathers could be exactly what she's been searching for. Soft, lightweight, and perfect for trapping warmth. Statichaze begins to gather the feathers in her mouth, gently tugging them free from the tangles of twigs. Some are delicate and fluffy, while others are sturdier, perhaps from the bird's wings. She works meticulously, inspecting each feather before adding it to her growing bundle. In between pulling feathers free, she glances around, always on guard for signs of trouble—whether it's a predator or simply a curious Clanmate wondering what she's up to.

When she feels she has collected enough, Statichaze carefully arranges the feathers to keep them from blowing away. As she lifts her head, she imagines the relief the Clan will feel with warmer nests to shelter them. The nursery and elder's den come to mind first, but she thinks she might have enough to share a few with the apprentices as well, a small gesture to help keep them cozy as they rest.

[ rolled a 12 ]​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing's feathery tail bobbed behind him as he followed Statichaze, though it was out of curiosity rather than malice. Fog rested upon the space between his whiskers and his nostrils, irritating as it danced along his muzzle and eyes. Early frost crept along the knolls and the boughs, like a mere smudge of winter turned into a roiling storm, nipping at the whiskers and the purls of his pelt. The warrior, who had already gone through several leaf-bare seasons before, had not anticipated it haunting Skyclan this early. The pious part of him prayed that it was not a divine portend, a herald to the end of times. Mismatched gaze fell upon Statichaze for a brief moment, with feathers like plumes of rime through the mire, running through the scarcity that seemed to rear its head now of all times. She gathered them meticulously, collecting little scraps of some misbegotten bird like it actually meant something to a clan that would die off without food and water and health. Shortsighted as always, the tomcat saw little purpose in a menial task. "You should be hunting for prey to sustain the clan. Not looking for pretty feathers." The chimaera grumbled to himself (though obviously loud enough for the white-streaked molly to hear), as though progress came only in the terms of flowing blood and not tender sleep, and a heaving suspiration rattled through his throat in exasperation. If this was what the kittypet-warriors of Skyclan spent their precious time doing, how were they ever to survive the harsh times? Of course, he figured that the daylight warriors would simply slither back into their Twoleg nests, but true wild cats had no such option. To him, that was what separated a fattened housecat and an honorable warrior - the act of sacrifice.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC: IC opinions if needed :3 Didn't roll since this reply is after Phase I!
  
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  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 31 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring Weaselpaw
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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