camp running low on know-how {casual conversation}

Cricketcry

wretchedly nervous
Jul 1, 2024
47
6
8
From the tunnel leading into camp emerges Cricketcry, an unusual expression on his often somber face. Sprinkled through his tri-toned fur is dirt and other sediment, fresh stains coat his paws. Cricketcry returns to camp from his first trip into the tunnels since the shallow dog bite on his rear. Shockingly, the pain didn’t last long after the initial bite. He presumes nothing which will be inflicted upon him could hurt as much as a leg snapping. The fur is only beginning to sprout back, the dog removed plenty of skin but more fur, it left his striped and fawn fur in tatters and spots of baldness. He doesn’t care much though, truthfully- looks do not matter as much to him as other things. He felt suffocated from the days he spent above, being surface side for more than a few hours stifles him more than the humid crawlspaces. Two moons, of being unable to be beneath the surface, he surely would not be able to handle it as Bluefrost has.

He pads through camp, heads directly towards the fresh kill pile which he delivers a lizard to. It practically fell from the ceiling of a tunnel into his jaws- he took it as a message the tunnels miss him when he’s gone as much as he misses them. To contribute once again to the clan, that’s what warms his stormy face. it’s very clearly a different look on him. in truth, his maw is still curved downwards in a frown (unfortunately, this will be a permanent fixture) but it does not look so unapproachable and dire, and his eyes glitter. Cricketcry wanders to a nice patch of sunlight and settles down, brushing his plumed tail around his filthy forepaws. Hopefully none fell sick when him and the patrol were out, none escorted to the badger sett. Curiously, Cricketcry rasps to the warrior passing by, “How goes-s-s it?” Anxiety surges, paws to ears but with a gulp and a reassuring nod to himself he continues, “I’ve f-f…found a nice sss…spot here, if you’d like to join.”



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  • OOC—
  • CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan 𓆧
    𓆧 he/him / 28 ☾
 
✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ With all the battlefields Sunstar has tread, it should shock none of his warriors to know a great many scars hid beneath his thick pelt. The few that managed to worm their way through were the largest and the worst, or perhaps the most unluckily placed. Each time that he looks to the river and is greeted by the curving mark across his cheek, he cannot help a grimace. His chest as well, whenever he grooms himself. But worst of all is the one that nothing could ever hide. The rough stump of his leg, his fur held back from the edge of mottled scars — every cat that he met would see that first, or second if they are gracious. It is far more troublesome than a dog bite to the rear, at least in the long-term. Though he would certainly admit this was an unflattering look upon the tom.

"So you have," he agrees graciously, and acquiesces just as gracefully as he sinks down to his belly. A pale underbelly brushes the returning moor grass, sparse through the sandy ground of their camp. "Though I hope you do not mind– I worry more for you than you must for me. How is your. . ." The leader delicately cuts himself off, though he does gesture to Cricketcry's rump.
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    ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC.
    EpC61GT.png
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀
  • 82190121_9CSsSGfEk2LJ5dF.png
    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

    a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.
 

Out of all the warriors in WindClan they had to admit that Cricketcry was one of the ones that Brackenpaw wouldn't mind as much to see around. Mostly because he was quiet, kept to himself. Many tunnelers were on the quieter side sure but he was exceptionally so. She figured it was a fear thing, he always seemed nervous whenever they were unfortunate enough to patrol with him. So it was strange to see him initiate conversation, much more so that it was initiated with Sunstar of all cats.

The WindClan leader always seemed to be some kind of conversationalist at least, too much so on the days where the apprentice felt extra annoyed with him. Today fortunately wasn't one of those days, she wouldn't say they looked forward to hearing from him but she was interested. “He means how is your ass?” Was there a less crude way of saying this? Probably, yes. However they beamed in joy at the excuse of swearing around the warriors, expressing a more giddy side that she preferred to keep subdued.

They invite themself to stand near the pair, not over stepping beyond any personal boundaries to sit. No, that would indicate that they may actually be warming up and enjoying her time around them at this moment. “So do scars still hurt once they're healed?” They tilt their head, being fortunate enough to not fall victim to any injuries themself they're still able to experience a naive curiosity. “When I asked the elders they said that it can be itchy? Is that true?” She knows that she's supposed to respect them but given the penchant for stories in that den she found it difficult to.




  • ooc.
  •  
  • Brackenpaw
    they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 10 moons (ages on the 22nd)
    a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
    Speech, thoughts, attacking
    NPC x NPC, mentored by Bluefrost
    easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
    All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
 
When Cricket returns to camp, Stoatspot is already in it, moving around and sniffing the freshkill pile to shift through the older prey. Sunstars voice isn't a rarity around camp, but as she turns, satisfied with how none of the prey seems spoiled right now, shock floods through her.

Well, would you look at that! Cricketcry had made company of their leader- and Brackenpaw by extension, too. Stoat wouldn't ever admit it, but hearing the apprentice swear with a too-happy smile on their face... Stars, it reminded her of her brother when he was younger (and amusement blossoms in her chest). "Well, howdy-doo folks, hope you don't mind me joining in! Can't have Cricket hiding all the good spots in camp from me." she's chipper as she speaks up, drawing closer to join in on the conversation, a cheeky grin shot towards her friend.

Bracken continues, asking if the scars hurt and speaks of a tale they heard from elders which is admittedly true for once. "I reckon they do. Elders speak of the truth sometimes!" she responds in a simple, playful manner to Brackens question, finally settling besides Crickets non-taken side and aiming to give him an affectionate bump of greeting on his shoulder. Whilst Elder tales were normally hard to believe, they were right about one thing: scars were annoying little things, especially as the weather grew cold. Stoats just glad hers are small abrasions beneath her pelt from life on the farm, nothing too big to give her any issues with... She'd probably be driven up the wall if there was more to itch... Eyes settle on Sunstar, and then flick to Cricketcry; these two would be much more suitable for more input on the situation, so she stretches out to put her head on her front legs, blinking kindly as she listens.

  • stoatspot ʚ♡ɞ palomino
    cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 24 months
    windclan warrior ʚ♡ɞ mentoring n/a
    fluffy black / fawn tortie chimera with heterochromia ʚ♡ɞ short, but pure muscle
    "speech, bfdb81" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
    single ʚ♡ɞ pansexual
    smells like straw, fresh rainfall & soil ʚ♡ɞ home on the range
    penned by chuff
 
It was as though some mind-controlling worm had squirmed its way through Cricketcry's ear and has taken control of him. His maw opens, produces an invite for Sunstar to bask in the sunlight with him, shuts with a clack. Mossy eyes flicker away from the seaglass that are Sunstar's, watching through his peripheral vision as the large tom settles. He is asked how is injury is, with a most unneeded gesture towards the scabbing wound.

Cricketcry lets his gaze travel with Sunstar's gesture, neck twisting to gaze at the ugliness adorning his lower back. He is about to answer when a (also unneeded) translation of Sunstar's question is provided, forcing his eyes to snap up to give a half-hearted, humorous glare towards the translator. He rasps, hoarse voice dancing with concealed humor, "Th-thank you... B-B...Brackenpaw, I had not known what Sunstar meant..." His stormy face lightens as he shrugs, an anxious huff whistling from his lips. He did not expect... an interest in his injury, nor so many to come share the waning sunspot.

"My ass? P-perfectly alright, I returned to the tunnels today..." The soft sound of paws calls his attention and he straightens, a subdued smile crosses his face, his protective tail twisting away from his foreleg to beckon his friend over quicker as she speaks. Of course she is welcome, better her than some other... stranger. Stoatspot bumps his shoulder and he gives her a well-to-do nod before continuing, "It itches... but not too m-m-much... scars do itch... I believe only at first... from the t-t...tightness of the skin?" He would not know exactly, Cricketcry has not had a wound prior to this that will leave a scar like it, and it does not compare to the scar-tissue of Sunstar's stump.

He shrugs and murmurs, "It hurts, sometimes, b-b-but not as much as a broken leg. It is a wonder it had not... gotten infected by the tunnels. I had to run... in and out to distract the dog 'til Orangestar could wake." Cricketcry turns his small face towards Sunstar and he attempts to smile softly as he mews, "Thank you... f-for asking.... 'bout my ass-" He flicks his attention upon Brackenpaw. "Surely you shouldn't... use that language....? W-well, probably picked it up from Bluefrost."
 

"The itch means its healing well," Sedgepounce blurts. A spot of sunlight peers through the gloomy clouds crowded overhead, briefly warming his pelt as he pads closer to Cricketcry's newly formed entourage. He's glad that the other tomcat healed more or less seamlessly, even though he still looks like a half-dead hare in some regard. Looking at him now, Sedge is dimly worried that all the excitement of a calm, friendly chat with clanmates is doing his health more harm than good. He fears that, if pushed, that rabbit heart might burst.

"It's better than, like...burning, or sharp pain," he adds, a bit more dully. It's dawned on him that he learned that particular bit of information from Cottonsprig the last time he was stuck in the medicine den. She'd reassured him with a quip and a smile, and he feels somewhat ashamed to admit that he'd latched onto that small bit of trivia with the same heft of fascination that he did every other facet of her star-ordained career. A grimace crosses his face as he thinks of her. He raises a hindpaw to scratch sullenly at his ear.

Forget about it! "Hehe. Don't let Bluefrost hear you say that," Sedge chimes toward Cricketcry, mood and expression sliding toward the mischievous, however dulled by his own internal dialog.