camp REACH OUT // playing with beetles

[FIGFEATHER]

The scent of illness lingered within the walls of the medicine cat's den. Now that leaf-bare was upon them there were bouts of felines entering the den and being diagnosed with white-cough. It was an illness Figpaw had not heard of until she had gotten herself a one-way ticket into staying in Dawnglare's den, she's been given a dreadful two to three moon estimates of when she'll be able to get back to her normal duties. Sometimes she eyes the ferns around the apprentice's den, she longs to sleep in her old nest and be surrounded by the breathing and snores of the other youth.

Now she slept to the backdrop of Dawnglare, to the whispers of cats who came in during the night and their sneezing and coughing. She falls asleep in soft moonlight. It wasn't pleasant in this den, but she's began to grow use to it.

Figpaw begins to learn the hardest part about being trapped underneath the hazel bush isn't that she cannot move or the throbs of pain that remain in her leg, it's watching her clan descent into chaos above ground and not being able to help them. Not being able to even have the slightest idea of what was going on. She heard whispered of course, but they were all so construed... she struggled to put the pieces together. All she knew for sure is that Morningpaw was dead and SkyClan would likely never be the same again.

It seemed in a blink of an eye Figpaw's life had changed. There was no going back to the way things once were, it was a bitter herb to swallow but she was doing her best to be accepting and brave. Even in the darkest of times the pure light in young Figpaw's heart could not be fully concealed, it always managed to come back around and shine brighter than before.

As the sun's light reaches its peak, she distracts her curious mind by playing with dead beetles. They were quite the delicacy in leaf-bare when most insects went to hide and scurry away, but a couple of apprentices had found them under a rock and gifted them to Figpaw. A small gesture but it was nice to know she was being thought of and that she was still being entertained in her boring prison.

She's created a silly game of seeing how far she can flick them up the burrow, now when cats entered they were greeted at an instant with numerous dead beetles at their paws. Figpaw didn't care about the extra mess, she'd take any scoldings from Dawnglare- and maybe he'd have a meltdown over the insects to make the red tabby's day more eventful. Last time his nest had been swarmed with bugs both dead and alive you would've thought the medicine cat's soul would of left his body for an early departure to StarClan.

So that is what she can be found doing, flicking the beetles out of the burrow and listening to their hard shells clack against the earth.​

---

Spoiler: TAGS ★ 11/30

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 7 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan, doesn't fully understand

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, daft, naive
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ IDK HER SEXUALITY I LIED . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ poor fighter . okay hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[grizzlyridge]

It had been an empty feeling. Loss was cold and quiet– like leafbare, it seeped into every crevice that it could. The camp seems quiet. As if a blanket of snow had fallen over them all, and there were none so brave as to break the silencing weight. He had thought that nothing could be worse than the great battle. All those that had been lost, all that had changed afterwards... it is strange that they have met its match with the loss of one bright soul. A child. He closes his eyes briefly, paws frozen to the cold earth, and sighs slowly. He had intended to visit the sick, to remind himself that there were still those struggling for their lives here. Ones that they could help. But– could he face them? Could he look at them,, knowing that there may be more they must cede to the lights in the dark? Grizzlyridge is a selfish beast. He doesn't want to give them up. It was his duty. A promise.

It's a beetle skittering into one large paw that finally has him opening his eyes. It had come from the hazel bush, his once-decided destination, and it is enough to spur him into movement again. "Figpaw?" he calls quietly, sweeping the beetles back down towards the apprentice, so that she might continue whatever game this was. "I should have expected you would be bored."

☾  OOC NOTES INFORMATION ☽

• 
  ooc: —
• GRIZZLYRIDGE. world-weary warrior of skyclan.
  ──── uses he - him - his, may accept they - them - theirs.
  ──── about four years old.  a former pine group member.
  ──── homoromantic homosexual, but this may develop.
  
  a large, broad-shouldered highlander cat with lightly tufted curled ears and large paws made larger by extra toes. a solid seal point with only a small white marking on his muzzle and deep blue eyes.
• "speech"

​

 

[Pumpkinpatch]

She had been out on a border patrol when it all fell to pieces and she returned in utter chaos, Pumpkin was not a full SkyClan cat yet-she did not have her name and she was certainly not as familiar with everyone as the rest of them were who had been here longer but she was trying because she rather liked this place. Sure her main goal had been to find family and she hadn't, but her secondary one was to find herself a new home and purpose in life and SkyClan seemed to fit the bill. Now she need only continue as she was, learning and improving and-oh, what was this? Her walk mid-stride was interupted by a rattling and she watched the glittering carapaces of insects skirt the ground and glint in the light like a beacon near the other warrior's paws. Pumpkin approached not too long after the tom, curious and with nothing to do for the moment and thus time to indulge in said curiousity.

Her mismatched eyes widened as she ducked to peer inside after the tom, curious as to the source of the beetle shells as well and more than a little bothered Figpaw had been left here alone stuck in her own nest while the clan grieved outside around her.
"Oh, of course she's bored-it's so MESSY in here. Does-uh-Dawnglare know how to clean?" It was not really meant to be mean-spirited but it was certainly a surprise to see their clan's medicine so carelessly scattered about the place in piles and stuffed in corners like he was a mouse storing food for the winter. Even the mice were a bit more delicate. She was almost afraid to walk in, unsure what stray plant was important and what was just litter trampled upon the ground, but inside she did follow after Grizzlyridge; nearly walking into him as she stumbled through the low hanging branches of the bush.

Pumpkin danced from paw to paw uncertainly, she had half a mind to start picking things up but she was hesitant to touch unfamiliar plants or mess with his clearly purposeful chaos. As horrible as it was to look at, she would hopefully never be in here long enough to care.
"Has anyone-uhm-checked on you in a while, Figpaw? Do we know if it'd be-uh-okay for you to sit outside? I'm sure between myself and Grizzly we could manage to lift you up and uh move you! Get you some fresh air!" She wasn't sure if it was okay or not but she really hoped so-being stuffed in this den for so long was surely not good for any cat, especially one so young.
​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Apprentices were... dropping like flies. Beetles, even. Centipedepaw, Morningpaw- Figpaw, how close it had been to being Figpaw. Grief still wrung hands around his throat, and likely everyone else's. The SkyClan that had been only a week ago wa no more, and he supposed that was the nature of the world. Each day, hour, minute did SkyClan change. And as wise and lovely as that sounded, it felt daunting and emptying in practice. Nothing could ever go back to the way it was a minute ago- a day ago- a week ago. When Morningpaw was alive. When Figpaw was not ill.

Maybe she didn't notice it, but Twitchpaw had gotten into a habit of flashing a glance into the medicine den every time he passed it, just to- passively check on Figpaw. To see if there was any blood, to see if there was... anything wrong. He was sure his mentor gave frequent visits too, and he didn't doubt her, but- sometimes word was not enough. For Twitchpaw it often wasn't. Witnessing it himself was the mist- the only reliable option.

This time it seemed he was greeted not with the sight of Figpaw in pain but instead an ocean of tiny corpses, littering the ground like a gruesome collage. The bicolour tom's expression twisted into a grimace, but- well, it was only dead bugs. Not cats, at least. Not- not cats. But it was still a mess, and still- unsightly, and some might find it scary, so... "You, uh- do you want me to clean these up?" He wouldn't just do it, despite how much he wanted to. She might want them for something, and if he- if he rid her of them, she'd hate him forever, she'd never forgive him, she'd...​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Today is dull. As drab as any other, and yet, the prisoner picks today to seek entertainment. Someway... somehow, he does not care, really, does not know. Following the reassessment of her leg was the slump back within his nest. There were brighter things to think of; moonlit faces, those dark and those not, but the weight of her body is still there. And it's so, so cold.

A lump in the corner of his den, he only hears idle clicking, idle chatter, annoying, but it comes and goes quickly enough for him to ignore. But suddenly, oh, it's not so distant. The voice is near, the voice is here. Soft tones in talk of boredom. Dawnglare's eyes glaze over– if only, in sleep, oh, he wishes, but only in annoyance. Really, truly. A pointless repetition, and then. And then–

Had she not seen him here? Mistook him for any other lump of fur? (maybe not farfetched, considering the mess.) Oh he doesn't want to, truly, he's tired, so tired, but his body turns, if only to glare blearily. She's lucky his heart weighs so heavy, she so, so is... "I should slit every one of your throats," A threat unenthused. He certainly should, but it did not mean he would be happy to do so. Not now, at least. Stupid and clumsy, nearly, she sends everything into certain catastrophe, but just barely, she catches herself. Keeps her paws to herself. Yes, good... Though still, she should mind her business. Bleary-eyed, it hurts too much to think about the prisoner's current state. Still broken, that is certain. "I won't be spending any more poppy seeds on you today. It's leaf-bare." She can risk herself pain if she so wants. Whatever.

Sudden fear, with the appearance of the cursed one. "C-clean what up?" Nearly, he's offended. Did he also come to make his assumptions? To push his own agenda of chaos and order? But oh, his eyes are fixed, and Dawnglare tilts his head...

Not a prayer, not a word would save her from teeth in her neck. No, only his own exhaustion, and his own sadness. The place of her death now defiled by– by–

So soon, he himself sounds diseased, plague-ridden. Maybe Mallowlark really had given him something, and so suddenly, it manifests through snot-nose and rattling breath. Nowhere to run really, no. Because there was so, so much dead weight in his den. And the little devils blocked the exit. The both of them, all of them. Deep inhale, disgusting breath. Glistening eyes. Were all of Daisy's kids taught to bring misery from birth?​