camp RESSURECTIONS ☽; new warrior ceremony

[WOLFWIND]

"Sloepaw! Or should I say, Sloestride? You finally made it!" Newly renewed, newly her, the storm tucked away for now and hopefully, forever, she takes the opportunity to fill in on all the things she hadn't got to within these last moons. Sloestride hasn't changed much. Good 'ol Sloe.

"How're ya diggin' the new name?" Wolfwind's still not sure if it's like... not an insult...? Even...? But she hoped he didn't see it that way, at least. Howlingstar was hardly the type to give mean names, but, hell, what else could that mean? Names were meant to work together! Wolf, together, becomes quick like the stride of the wolf! Slowstride? I mean... you get the idea, right? She grins, regardless, maybe putting extra work in that smile to make super duper sure he felt good about his name and warriorhood. "But y'know, uh... There's this thing all of us new warriors like to do. A tradition, f' sorts..." She gestures with her paw as if the answer if obvious and she isn't totally bullshitting right now. Simultaniously, she'd try to catch the eye of any nearby warriors. Hopefully fun ones and not boring stiffs like mister or miss you-know-who. "Y'know, when we..."

[ Talking to @sloestride but not PAFP! ] ​

 

[ROEFLAME .]

ROEFLAME — break the air to feel the fall.
Wolfwind’s voice is as attention-catching as ever, but almost seeming out of place. The blue warrior had been down lately, quieter…
From just outside the much too cramped medicine den, her uncovered eye is quick to lock in on Wolfwind, her flare rising from the dead as she gestures. Something about… a different type of warrior ceremony.
Curiosity kills the cat, and Roeflame draws over, having received her warrior name alongside Sloestride. With Wolfwind, Roeflame could admit it’s hard to tell when the warrior is poking fun or actually telling the truth.
The tabby sits with a slightly furrowed expression, wide eye scrunched with curiosity. "What’re you going on about?" She asked when the other would trail off, for once in her young life finding the natural pause where she could join the conversation.
She flashes a side glance towards Sloestride, wondering if the other new warrior knew what Wolfwind was chattering about.

"speech"

tags​

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[sloestride]

THIS WEIGHT ON MY NECK MAKES IT HARD TO CONNECT​

A slate-scratch form and bounding tone snagged his eye. Sloestride's dark lids rolled back almost imperceptibly, surprise rounding his cheeks. Wolfwind was unavoidable, often making the camp feel smaller than it was with her antics. The last few months it had felt wide open again the absence of her more zealous aspects. He'd probably say he liked it more but really he didn't.

"Yeah... Finally caught up with the rest of you." In the face of her enthusiasm he let slip a little smile. It did feel good to finally be among other cats his age. While he didn't begrudge the extra moons his kittypet heritage tacked onto his training (he needed them), the tom couldn't help but feel a little awkward around all the younger apprentices. Not that he was much bigger- but hopefully intellectually he was on a different level. Maybe.

'How're ya diggin' the new name?'

"I like it- think it's pretty cool." A candlelit eye wavered as it took in her over-wide smile. What did that mean? Sloestride was happy with his name, thought it made for a solid nod to his nack at stealth. Then something is mentioned that really has his attention. "A tradition?" He hadn't heard of this, how could he have missed a whole tradition? All of his careful attempts to get to grips with every part of clan life and-

The warrior's ear bent awry, aware of Roeflame approaching them. Air seeped back into his lungs at the mild interruption. "I- I don't know. Is it difficult?" If it was that was rough, Sloestride didn't have Howlingstar's help anymore. Maybe that was the point though...

Behind him, Roeflame seemed just as confused. That gave the goose-pelt tom pause. It was strange that she didn't know either. He met her questioning gaze and flattened his ears. What was Wolfwind on about?​

 

[crowflower]

"Not too difficult," Crowflower commented as she walked past Wolfwind and the two newly promoted warriors. “You have to cover yourselves in mud and race to the Sycamore.” She was lying better than she anticipated.

It hadn’t been her intention to participate in Wolfwind’s prank when she was initially walking past, but she couldn’t resist the urge to…well…she wasn’t actually sure what possessed her to join in. Crowflower usually kept to herself unless she had a good reason. She didn’t joke around and she definitely didn’t prank people.

Crowflower decided not to dwell on it. It was already enough of a struggle to tell a convincing lie, though her deadpan was infallible.​

 

[WOLFWIND]

Wolfwind grins at the toms answer, glad he isn't taking it as piss-poorly as she mightve, were it here. Maybe the kittypet-ness lowers your standards. Probably does, actually. Well, whatever. Roeflame joined them; new warrior beside the guy, right. The more the merrier!

And she's surprised, let's her brows shoot up on her skull when she sees just who'd made that golden suggestion. "Ohoho!" she exclaims, smile widening by the second. Her eyes are crescent moons as she looks to Crowflower, decidedly impressed. "Yeah! Not difficult so much as it takes guts. I remember when I kicked Crowflower's ass," She looks somewhat-dreamily to the cat in question, as if recalling a fond memory. Maybe that's what it looks like. She isn't known to be a good actor or anythin'.

Wolfwind flicks her tail towards the camp's exit; allows herself to look like she knows what she's doin, and all that. "Tell ya what, I'll ref you guys. I think there're some nice mud puddles down by Sunningrocks. Chop chop!"​

 

[crowflower]

It was difficult not to let her composure crack when Wolfwind turned and grinned, eyes like small slices of sunlight. That was a dreamy expression, alright. Crowflower felt a little flustered and looked away with a grimace. Her fur felt hot. She pretended that it was just frustration stirred up by the memory of her "ass-kicking." Or maybe it was just the sunshine. "I let you win," she said a little petulantly, failing to meet Wolfwind's eye. "You were playing dirty before the race even started!" There was a stupid smile on her face while she daydreamed about the make-believe scenario. It was almost funny how easy it was to get into character. Crow was a bad liar, but maybe acting was more her style. She could believe that Wolfwind would resort to some tricky tactics to gain the advantage--Crowflower was a poor fighter, but she was fast. And easily distracted. It took her a moment to realize that she had space out. Crowflower had to trot to catch up to the small group as Wolfwind led the way to Sunningrocks. Although she felt a little bad tricking the new warriors, she couldn't help getting swept away by the fun. "Maybe we need a rematch?" she mused quietly as they walked, glancing over at Wolfwind.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Watching his favorite niece bullshit the new warriors brings a smile to Raccoonstripe's muzzle. Her energy has returned, and he's thankful; the period after Morningpaw's death and Howlingstar's ascension had left him concerned about whether it ever would. She's herself again, witty and spirited; he finds himself grateful once again that Wolfwind hadn't followed her sister to RiverClan.

Dark eyes flick with surprise to Crowflower, who easily engages with the blatant lie. He wants to laugh, but instead he solemnly meows, "This game needs an audience. If there's no one watching it's bad luck for your warriorhood." He trails behind Crowflower and Wolfwind, eyeing the two of them with a grin.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[sloestride]

THIS WEIGHT ON MY NECK MAKES IT HARD TO CONNECT​

Blackened lids grew slack with woe as Sloestride looked to Crowflower and her explanation. Worst than the content of her words were their existence- the other warrior was corroborating Wolfwind. Even if it was fake he couldn't back out now, not with another warrior in on it. Because it might not be real, right? The tom tracked the flap of Wolfwind's mouth as it went back and forth, wondering.

"Guts, huh? Well, lets see if I’ve got ‘em then," Weariness loped through his tone. Though his mouth was pursed in a frown, the white of his cheeks betrayed his burgeoning smile. This was so stupid. Maybe it’d be stupid fun.

Raccoonstripe drew up alongside them and Sloestride dipped his head in respect to the lead warrior. Despite his well-mannered attempt at a greeting the tom couldn’t suppress his alarm at his words. ‘This game needs an audience;. "What- uh… yeah I s’pose. Tradition and all." The thought of yet another cat watching him douse himself in mud made the tips of his ears hot with embarrassment. It’s not like Wolfwind wouldn’t tell everyone anyway.

Mind muddled even further by Raccoonstripe’s endorsement, Sloestride followed the monochrome mollies to the weathered slopes of Sunningrocks. There, a sliver of mud between two boulders drew his gaze. The scent of stale vegetation tugged wrinkles onto his nose. Sunny eyes narrowed at the group gathered before the warrior plunged one black paw into the muck.

"Sure you two don’t want to have that rematch of yours? I need someone to race after all.” The dark substance coated his both forepaws now as he let the conversation swallow his attention. Even with his best efforts to appear unaffected, every inch of the mess of his pelt made him cringe deeper into his shoulders. How do you even get this stuff off after?

Eventually, Sloestride was as deep as he could go. He’d have to roll to get any worse. The whole while he attended to the expressions of his companions, keen to get to grips with what they were thinking. Any curved maw he saw had his dignity to the floor but the warrior couldn’t keep the sheepish smirk off his face. He was definitely the butt of the joke.

"You better not be lying about this” The fierce slant of the tom’s ears didn’t match his light cadence whatsoever. And then, determined to commit if only to keep them laughing, Sloestride tipped his shoulder and rolled into the ditch. Mud soaked his dark pelt immediately in a second skin. When a patch touched his chin he couldn’t stifle a snort of amusement. Stupid.
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