restless son // pacing & intro

[salamanderstep]

★ can't get by and I can't let go ★​

Salamanderstep was patrolling. Again. He’d been on edge–really, he’d been like that his whole life, if you listened to the elders–and that meant he stalked the forest. Each step moved the orange-and-white tom forward, slowing his mind with the feeling of rushing blood. When he began to hear his thoughts, he raced between the trees until he ran out of breath before returning to a walk.

One step, two steps, three steps… and so on and so forth.​

★ ...and I can't sleep alone ★​

 

[MOUSENOSE]

A leaf drifts, and a blue-socked paw reaches up to smack it to the ground. Long fur bristling, whiskers trembling, Mousepaw has forgotten that she is supposed to be tracking @Silverlightning right now; the young she-cat is so easily distracted! The second the leaf crumples beneath her foot, she runs to the next interesting thing, a pile of leaf litter that trembles with potential prey. She's not engaged, though, and her thumping paws startle the mouse hiding within from its cover, shooting away into the hollow of a tree.

"Oh, mousedung," she murmurs. She wonders if Silverlightning is watching her -- wouldn't that be embarrassing! She's lucky it's newleaf, she supposes, and that they have Sunningrocks for prey now. Maybe she won't get scolded so readily.

Straightening up, Mousepaw's ears flick forward, catching new paws thundering against the forest floor. An orange pelt streaks by her, limbs flashing like sunlight filtered through the trees above. She wrinkles her nose and calls out, "Hey, watch it! You're not a WindClanner, y'know!" She grins and shakes her head. Salamanderstep is strange. Edgy guy.

Her training session is long forgotten by now.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[Flycatcher]

Flycatcher is hunting up in the trees on the same patrol when Salamanderstep also disturbs his hunt. A bird had been sitting not far ahead of him, but at the sound of the rapid thumping of paws down below, it got startled and flew off. "Hey!" Flycatcher chided from up above, looking down at the cats below. He can see Mousepaw down below and here's a small snippet of her comment towards Salamanderstep. "What's going on down there?" Flycatcher asked. "Why are you pacing so much, Salamanderstep? Did something happen?"​

 

[BERRYHEART]

A voice from the heavens- though Berryheart did not quite visibly flinch, there was a flicker of surprise in his gaze for a few moments until he caught Blue's familiar stripes cradled in the canopy. It was a sight he should have anticipated, with the knowledge the deputy had quite the knack for frolicking atop branches.

Fickle attention settled upon the apprentice and warrior duo, the latter of which had been only a moment before barrelling through the trees as if he was being pursued by a gnashing predator. Frankly he hardly blamed Speckles for her outburst- it was odd behaviour, certainly, and many did not welcome erraticism in their presence. And... there was always the probability of something lurking nearby.

Content with his silence for the moment, the medicine cat set his olivine gaze upon Streaks, a questioning frown occupying his lopsided features. Blue had covered most of Berryheart's own bases... was the pacing borne of fear? And if so, of what?​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[salamanderstep]

★ can't get by and I can't let go ★​

Oops. Salamanderstep came to a halt and cringed. He’d scared away prey, despite his attempts to keep his pawsteps gentle. Sal had wanted to clear his mind, and instead he had received concern from his clanmates. Shaking his head to reorient himself, the tom looked up to Flycatcher first. ”Sorry, Flycatcher,” Sal called up to the deputy. ”My mind runs fast but my paws are faster, so I put that to the test.” He dips his head in remorse. ”I was louder than I thought, and I’m sorry for startling prey.”

Next, Mousepaw. ”Thank goodness I’m not a moor rat!” Sal chuckled, giving the apprentice a grin. ”I’d reek! They could never weave through the trees anyways; I bet they’d run into them face-first!” He bonked himself on the forehead with his paw for effect.

And, of course, Berryheart. Somehow the medicine cat was always nearby, olive eyes watching over the clan. Sal shot him a softer smile, along with a nod; everything was alright. At the sight of the healer, he remembered his thin skin, easily bruised and bloodied. With a quick glance, the orange-and-white tom looked over his pelt, searching for any new parts in his fur; a sigh of relief slipped out of his mouth when he found none.

He looked back up at the deputy, an idea formed. ”Why don’t I join your hunt? I’ll make up the lost prey, and this way I can put my paws and head to work,” Sal said, looking up at Flycatcher with a tilted head.

​

★ ...and I can't sleep alone ★​

 

[Daisypaw]

Daisypaw was familiar with her mentor's restless nature: she had known the orange tabby for as long as she could remember, and had long since adjusted to his occasional antsy fits and long walks through the forest. She was pretty sure that was why Howlingstar had named him Salamanderstep, though she supposed it could've been for his large, fluffy paws, too. Either way, she understood that he sometimes needed to disappear into the undergrowth and race through the woods, a flame-and-white blur streaking past the oaks and ferns. When she had been a kitten, she'd missed him, but he always came back, and usually had a story or an interesting bug to offer her in exchange for her patience. Now that she was an apprentice - his apprentice, no less! - she occasionally got to go with him, though more often than not she stayed in camp, as her 4-moon-old legs couldn't keep up when Sal hit his top speeds. Today he had left her behind with a heap of moss and instructions to clear out the elders' den, which she did, of course - though not without a slight feeling of resentment. I wanna go out! This is boring, and the elders smell musty.

To her surprise, however, it didn't take too terribly long, and Salamanderstep had not returned by the time she'd disposed of all the old moss. Daisypaw mumbled a "goodbye" to the elders - who were settling back into their nests with small huffs of appraisal - and bounded to the edge of camp, her light lime-colored eyes wide and thoughtful. She kneaded the soft, sandy ground with her extra-toed forepaws, thinking, before coming to a decision: she'd finished what her mentor had told her to do, and he hadn't technically said not to follow him. A small smile appeared on the calico's face as she charged it the forest, pursuing Sal's familiar scent: something like dried herbs and fresh morning dew, in her opinion. In time, she caught the sound of voices, her mentor's among them, and clambered over a large stump to finally come face-to-face with her Clanmates. Or, well...sort of face-to-face. Flycatcher, at least, was way up high. "Sal, I found you!" Daisypaw mewed in breathless triumph, trotting over to the bicolor tom's side and butting her head affectionately against his leg. Her sides heaved as she tried to recover from her dash through the woods; the chubbiness of kittenhood had yet to leave her plush-furred frame. "Hi, everyone." she added after a pause, twitching her whiskers in greeting to Berryheart, Mousepaw, and the lofty shape of Flycatcher. "He left me to do the elders' den but then I caught up with him."​

 

[Flycatcher]

Flycatcher waits for an answer from below, quickly getting a nervous apology from Salamanderstep about scaring the prey away. Flycatcher's expression softened and he nodded as way to say he had accepted his apology. "It's fine," He responded, giving a cordial nod to Daisypaw who had joined the group below. "Just be more mindful where you're going next time." They might have had the sunningrocks to further supplement their prey needs, but they still needed to be cautious and not take things for granted. "If you want to help, I certainly won't say no," The deputy chuckled. "I'm not having much luck up here."​

 

[MOUSENOSE]

Mousepaw's ears flick at the ThunderClan deputy's voice from above. She tilts her fluffy face skyward to catch a glimpse of his blue fur through the leaves. She'll let Salamanderstep answer him, though; she can't explain why he's being so weird! She spots Berryheart's dappled pelt through the treeshadow as well, though he's safely on the ground, like she is.

She bounces onto her paws, grinning at the warrior's answer about moor rats. "That's true," she concedes. "You smell a heck of a lot better than those WindClan cats."

It's Daisypaw's approach who has Mousepaw's attention next. She crinkles her nose with sympathy. "The elder's den! Yuck! I'm supposed to be on a hunting mission." She puffs her chest out proudly, forgetting she has yet to catch more than a leaf spiraling its way to the forest floor.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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