no angst red means i love you ☆ just vibes

[Skunktail]

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Very rarely does he find time to relax much lately, but at last the days have calmed and what effort they had put into the recent incidents was all they had. Skunktail realized they all deserved a break of some kind, the fresh-kill pile was full and so was his belly and the sun was at just the right angle to make sunbathing applicable in camp again even if briefly. This day should not be wasted wallowing around in misery or anger, emotions were pure and all worthy of being felt but the only one he wanted to indulge in today was peace. Serenity. Calm. He inhaled, exhaled, got to work picking the prettiest flowers he could that had not wilted and withered to the growing cold - probably weeds but nice to look at all the same and perfectly comforting herbal scents that reminded him of Starlingheart's den but not quite exact.
He spotted his victim of choice once he came into the camp and glanced around, a very easy cat to see at any distance; pristine white as a blanket of snow and bigger than a rolling cloud. "Frostbite, fantastic news-I've decided you get to be the first for Skunktail's covetted massage therapy. Take a seat~!"
A shove of paws and a lot of nudging to get the grump to actually lay down before he settled his own little bouquet in front of the white tom and began to neatly groom his paws first and foremost, making sure to get any bits of dirt and grit from out between his toes; didn't want to dirty anyones pelt with his antics. Once assured of his cleanliness he began to knead his paws into the other warriors' back, rhythmically wriggling in place and leaning forward as he did so to make his full weight fall down upon the snow blanketed back.
"Starlingheart says she's got herbs that calm cats, I don't know anything about them plants of hers but you think we could get a bunch of it and just sprinkle it around camp?"

☆ ———— promise me she's not your world ☆ ———————— 'Cause Andy, you're a star

• Ooc: Please keep negativity, angst, rude and/or mean-spirited remarks out of this thread!
  If your kitty can't play nice, please don't post! I want a good vibe thread ♥
  PAFP - @Frostbite | Apprentice Tag - @Briarpaw.
  
• 
  
  
  Skunktail
  —⊰⋅ Warrior of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Black & white tom w/spearmint green eyes
  

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[Frostbite]

It is no secret to literally anyone how wound up Frostbite is over Halfkit and Tanglekit. He surprises even himself most of the time, how much he has changed. All it took to free his heart from the wall of ice that encased it was the brutal blow of Poppypaw's death and the birth of his kits. His grief had plummeted him to the deepest, darkest pits of despair, but what he got out of it was a weird friend in Ragweed and his beloved children. Because of his kits, he learned how to love.

And ever since, his resting bitch face has become softer and he has become more light hearted. He knows many would call him irresponsible and code breaking. He knows what he did, but he also wouldn't change it. He is happier now than he has ever been in his life, he is free. Thats what makes him so stressed, now. Before, he'd be furious of the kits abduction. Now, he finds himself more worried than angry.

Though make no mistake, he will be furious if he finds whoever has Halfkit and Tanglekit and hasn't fessed up. He is still a force to be reckoned with.

But right now, he is weary. He cannot find peace. He wishes he could, but his chest is tight and even as he sits in camp after he completed his duties, he finds he cannot rest. His ears flick as he hears his name, and he turns his head to see Skunktail approaching him.

He blinks in confusion. "Massage therapy- What- Hey-" He sputters as he is nudged and pushed into laying down, a bouquet of flowers placed at his paws.

Before he knows it, he is being kneaded on. Tense muscles gradually loosen and he supposes...Maybe this isn't so bad. "I can't believe you even got me flowers. How thoughtful!" He says, looking at the fragrant bundle in front of him.

Frostbite has to agree, some calming herbs around the camp would be helpful for some of the attitudes around here....Along with all of their misfortune.

"I don't know much about herbs either, but I think that's a good idea." He says. "Maybe a hefty sprinkle." He adds. Because damn does this clan need a moment to relax.​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

Truly, Comfreypaw is just happy to be alive. She had walked side by side with death, felt its pelt brush against hers, had felt its teeth in the nape of her neck—and here she is, enjoying the sunshine with her Clanmates, her belly full of frog. She had tasted her meal, and it had tasted good, almost good enough to bring tears to her eyes. She had long forgotten the flavor of a tender bit of fresh-kill, the pleasantness of it sitting in her stomach. She watches Skunktail offer to groom Frostbite, her eyes half-lidded as she stretches languidly in the autumnal sun.

The white tom seems to be enjoying himself, though Comfreypaw has never seen a cat do quite what Skunktail does. His paws sink up to the joint in the other warrior’s thick pale fur, and he kneads as though he’s making a nest. “Does that feel good?” She asks curiously. Amber eyes, now clear and lively, dance about the clearing, looking for Applepaw or any of her denmates. “Maybe you can teach me how to do it.”

, ”​

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[Starlingheart]

There is never enough time in Starlingheart's day it feels. Always there is someone who needs her, someone who clamors for her attention and care. This is not exactly the life she had chosen - for all her imagining she never could have predicted her abandonment and it it were up to her and not at the paws of fate there is good chance that she would have remained a paw for much longer than she had. It is why she does not rush nor push Magpiepaw in his own training. Everything could come in his own time, when he was ready. Rare are the days where she finds herself with nothing. All the mundane tasks completed, all patients attended to and resting. The only thing she can do is make her way out of her den and stand in the sunlight.

She revels in the taste of fresh air, of the feeling that she had absolutely nothing clamoring for her attentions. Instead, her gaze sweeps over the cats present in camp and she is delighted to see her brother and Frostbite sitting along with Comfreypaw. When was the last time she had gotten to spend any actual quality time with her kin?

She makes her way over on snow capped paws, a soft smile on her face. "Careful Skunk, you're going to have to-to do that for all of us" she says with a small laugh. Comfreypaw asks to be taught and though the ebony medicine cat does not say anything she sends her brother a hopeful look that screams to let the apprentice practice on her aching muscles.

​

 

[smogstar]

Stress, anxiety, both are woven intricately into Smogmaw's day-to-day state of being. Only, his display of them is much more subtle than some may assume.

Grief has certainly left its mark on him, to be fully clear and candid, etched into his ego with its piercing-cold brand—but he's come to a place where he can swallow it down and bury it within, comparable to how he manages the daily pressures thrust upon him. For it is the tom's solemn belief that he operates at his utmost when his nerves are alight with stress. The internal nagging, nervous anticipation, continuously bracing for the chaotic inevitable, they all whet his wits and hone his focus. The higher his mental strain, the better he can zero in on a lone point. It's a paradox in a sense. He isn't in control of his emotions; the never-ending buzz simply blunts them.

In light of his kits' abduction, and as the grief becomes more navigable, Smogmaw's resolve slowly, yet surely, rises to its pre-journey levels. Where a pensive grimace was once scribbled, the deputy manages his typical even-keeled frown. Visually, it appears unchanged, yet it's a world of a difference.

Even in view of the amusing spectacle before him, an out-of-the-blue kneading session on Frostbite's spine (courtesy of one Skunktail), not so much as a half-smirk curves his muzzle. He watches regardless and basks in the exotic stillness of the moment. The paw motions soak out the tension from the fluffy white tom, and his relief is parasitic—stars know how badly it's been begging to be wrung free.

"After all the work you've put in for the clan, Starlingheart," he meows, drawing near the medicine cat along the sidelines, "I'd say you've earned one of them... 'massage therapy' things." Tending to a plague-ridden clan without so much as an apprentice to keep her afloat. Such an undertaking was commendable, venerable even. Had she not traded his mate's survival away so heedlessly, he'd perhaps have a greater capacity to grant her praise. "I'd prob'ly crush you under my weight. Better let Comfreypaw handle you instead." ​

 

[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
Briarpaw knows how to relax, and it is an activity she very much enjoys at the end of the day.
Yet, the sun is bright in the sky, - almost blaring despite the noticeable chill in the air- when the raven-furred apprentice spots her mentor making his way into camp with a bundle of flowers in his maw.
Perhaps if it had been any other warrior, Briarpaw would be staring at them quizzically from afar, but the patch-work tom was her mentor, and perhaps there was a reason to this rhyme.
Without a glint of hesitation underfoot, she is a fleeting shadow, scurrying from one end of camp to another in order to settle close to her teacher.
Pine-laden eyes are sparking with confusion by the time she is at Skunktails side, optics flickering from Frostbite to Skunktail, to the way ebony paws knead against the others spine.
"What are you doing to him?" Finally she asks after several heartbeats. Her question is genuine, young mind unable to comprehend just yet.
Starlingheart muses that soon Skunktail will need to be doing this to all of them.
Briarpaw’s eyes widen further, still terribly confused.

"speech"

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