ROUGH SEAS (riding on a log)

The day had begun quite well! Birds singing, sun shining, and not a thing to do for Mudpelt. Icesparkle was sleepy, so the tom decided to head out on his own to do some fishing or hang out with some of his clanmates. That journey had taken him to the river, where he gets an idea as he and some of the others peer out at the rushing river as a log floats downstream. Eager to have some fun in the water, he tosses a half-grin towards his companions, stumpy tail waggling excitedly. "Anyone up for a ride?" He trills. Without waiting for an answer, he dives into the rapids, paddling powerfully towards the large branch that floated downstream. It takes him some time, but using his strength, claws, and a lot of balance and time, he eventually scrambles to the top without the limb rolling out from underneath him. "HA!" He cheers for himsef, gripping his vessel with all his might just to stay atop it. With a giant smile, he looks towards the shore to see if his companions were following him downstream along the bank, or if any of them had leaped into the water to join him.

// just a fun, casual thread!
( ) it is a beautiful day in riverclan, so when mudpelt announces his hunting plans, willowroot is eager to tag along. the past few days have gone relatively smoothly and today they've woken up with little to do, but they smile to themself as they pad down to the river behind the older tom. it's nice just spending time with clanmates. the longer they've been apart of the clan, the less judgmental they've become of the members of it. truly many of these cats are here for friendship and safety- who is wil if they wish to tear that down. the sun warms their fur as they arrive, emerald eyes squinting up at mud as he paces the shore. "going for a swim?" they ask, before their question is answered as the tomcat leaps onto a piece of driftwood and sets off. "wh-" surprise colors their features as willowroot darts along the shore to follow the log. "how?" they call, grinning. it's one thing to leap into the water, another entirely to be precise enough to stand on the floating wood without it spinning out from under him. muscles bunch as the slender femme narrows their eyes and concentrates on the other bits of wood floating past. throwing themself in, willowroot dives for another log, scrambling up on it. their claws grip the wood and for a moment it looks a though they'll stay on top, but then the log spins and they crash back into the water. a laugh bubbles from their throat. "that's harder than it looks!"

( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  The water'd been a friend of Hound's since first he found it. A reprieve at first, away from the troubles'f the marsh– here, he didn't think of politics or war, of kittypets and belonging. It'd been him and the rushing water, and all that it would provide. No such luck now. The peacefulness of this place had long since been replaced Life in its own right, a mix of creatures coming for comfort and safety or all else it'd entail. Now things were as chaotic as they'd been back in the marsh (ShadowClan, as they call it now). Yet...different, still. The kind of crowded he found himself loving. Not that he'd find the words for things such as that. More often than not he'd found himself overwhelmed with the company. Still adjusting. It sure as stars doesn't help when his newfound clanmates act like this.

A peaceful rest at the riverbank, ruined by these kinds of shenanigans. His ears perk lazily at Mud's offer, gaze flickering from the water's ripples to a sight he'd rather not've caught onto. Hound jerks to his paws immediately, stepping forward just enough that the water begins to lap at his paws. He's clinging to a log of all things, drifting down the river– can he even swim? He'd missed the show of him getting on, could only imagine how it'd happened at all. "You'd best not get stuck under it," Hound warns, though there's a playful glimmer in his eyes. "I'll not be dragging your sorry heap out'f the water."

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  • ──── hound. trans male, he/him pronouns only.
    ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
    ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.

    ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
  • "speech"


The old she-cat was out on a stroll when she came across the brave cats riding a log. Chirping Bird admittedly began to chuckle at the sight. In all her moons she had never seen such a sight. She wondered where they had gotten the idea. It looked like so much fun that she just had to toss herself into it. Hoping there was enough room for another. If not, taking a quick swim was fun enough. Her love of swimming is what kept her near the river all this time.

“Wooo!” she cheers, her legs aching a bit but managing to pull herself on top of the wood. “This is harder than-” Chirping Bird said before falling back into the water. Peeking her head above the surface once again.
poppy didn't even know why she was out here, if she was honest. waste of her time. waste of a lot of things. this is so stupid. why am i here again? her inner voice asks, and suddenly, she knows why. her ears fall back against her skull, and she only twitches her nose as she watched the very cat that managed to catch her attention for more than a few moments. caraway. willowroot. whatever they called themself. it didn't matter. it didn't matter at all. because they were still the same cat. and as much as poppy tried to push them away, they were becoming somewhat of a constant in poppy's life. and of all the cats i want to be friends with, it has to be her. they're so dumb! so fishbrained! why would i even want to be their friend! i swear you can hear her brain roll around when she tilts her head to the side. that little thing they do when they're deep in thought, though they don't even notice because they're too dumb. tch.

shaking her head, she only watches everyone be idiotic, not even daring to step into that water. riding a log seems like the dumbest thjng she's heard in a while. and she refused to be apart of it. "fish eggs for brains." poppy spoke aloud, rolling her eyes, though her gaze didnt stray very far from caraway at all. dare she even say she was worried that if she took her eyes off them too long, the feline would manage to hurt herself. it seemed to be right up their alley.