safe & sound | swans

[SMOKESTAR]

"Up, up. Wake up. Come see this."
He preferred the dawn patrol personally, enjoyed the just barely breaking daylight color of the sky and the crisp morning breeze, the soft and gentle preening of the birds gradually rousing themselves from their slumber before bursting into song, the way the ground sparkled like the river from the collection of dew clinging to each blade of grass and tall reed plant. He enjoyed the quiet hum of the camp, the just barely audible sounds of cats still dozing away in their nests, the occasional scrape of nesting brushing against fur as a few tossed and turned as if their bodies rejected the idea of the night's slumber ending. Smokethroat often took both apprentice with him on the dawn patrol, let them have most the middle of the day to themselves and then a lesson of some kind before bed, he had learned quickly that giving that break in the evening kept them both focused and sharp-that they lost interest and drifted from him the longer he pushed and made demands; eventually he had fallen into a steady method that suited all three of them just fine. This, however, was a little earlier than the usual patrol time for good reason. Or so he thought it was good reason. Enough of a reason he had actually crawled into the apprentice den to go about nudging the two, perhaps even accidentally disturbing any others with his clumsy paws and swishing tail; he would apologize later, time was of the essence somewhat. The dark tom didn't want them to miss it.
He ignored the groggy voices rising in complaint, the protests and general grouchiness that accompanied waking sleeping children; and they called him a grump did they. He was nothing compared to apprentices in the morning when it came to irritability, but he flicked his tail in a gesture to follow and offered no explaination or appeasement. "Keep up now."
Dark paws carried him forward, his steps light and his head held high as they trekked along in the direction of the river. As they grew closer his steps slowed, he lowered his body almost into a crouch as he inched along and then stopped abruptly, peering through the reeds at the shoreline before turning back to any who had followed with a rare smile, "Ah good. They're still there."
A paw went out, pushed the long river grass and cattails aside to make an opening for viewing, presenting the river in all its glory but more specifically its new occupants.
There were two of them, strikingly white against the water and necks curved down in neat bows as they floated listlessly together; almost entwined. The adult swans were quite the contrast next to their fledlings, ungainly things with long necks covered in thick gray feathers and lopsides little bodies; alarmingly different from their parents. There were several, moving about a bit too much for him to count offhand.
"Seems they're working their way to warmer places slowly...our river is just a break for them."

( @FROSTPAW. | @iciclepaw - not a pafp, feel free to post before!)
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[Harry Styles]

A S H P A W.

Ashpaw follows.

Green eyes wide, blinking sleep away, she creeps from her nest—head titled and ears perked to catch Smokethroat's words. "Come see this."

She's laid exhausted but awake for... hours now. Sleep doesn't come easy like it did before Spiderfall. Night after night she finds herself sneaking into the warriors' den, nightmare remnants clawing at her consciousness, climbing half-asleep into somebody's nest—Willowroot's most often. Tonight, though, she's awake enough to talk herself out of it.

So when Smokethroat comes to wake his charges, she finds herself rising, aching for the company of dawn—and curious. Come see what?

She steps into the chill of early morning, kitten-fluff puffed up against the cold, and bounds after her fellow apprentices and their mentor.

She'll keep as close to him as she can, comforted by the presence of a familiar warrior—someone she knows will keep her and her friends safe. He leads them to the river, and she swallows back her fear. No one's going to hurt her, she tells herself. No one's going to hold her under.

She peers through the long green stalks of grass and reed, scooting subconsciously closer to Smokethroat, and whispers, "What are they?"

They're beautiful, all long necks and smooth feathers and grace—the loveliest birds she's ever seen. The little babies are funny-looking... kind of like Fernpaw, she thinks, holding back a giggle.
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—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• ooc text goes here
• - 4 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - "speech"
• - started her apprentice training
  - attacked by a twoleg as part of riverclan's clanwide plot & escaped into the river
  - returned home by thunderclanners

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[Frostdrop.]

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS​

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Despite dawn patrol being something that the three normally did,
it didn't come easy to Frostpaw waking up so early. Be it that she made sure those she was close with were okay, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to make sure everyone was still in their nests before settling back into an uneasy sleep. This time had been no different and yet the clumsiness of her mentor waking her and several others up, telling them to follow him and barely giving any explanation as to what was going on.

The frosty air nipped at the young she-cats nose as her tail swished in a smooth motion, finding herself packng next to Ashpaw as she followed her memtor with half lidded eyes before they came to a stop near the shore lines, then Smokethroat would push back the reeds and cattails, exposing two swans, something that was a rare yet welcoming site. "they're beautiful" she breathed, gently brushing herself against Ashpaw as she attempted to get a better view of the giant white birds that look to have a form of grace. She too wondered what they were.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

"Up, up. Wake up. Come see this."

Smokethroat's greeting causes the tortoiseshell bundle to stir in her nest, emitting a soft, dreamy squeak of protest. Sleep-clouded pale blue eyes seek the lead warrior's dark pelt as he's heading away from the apprentice's den. "Too early," she mumbles. She searches for Frostpaw, who is already on her paws and padding after their mentor. Ashpaw, too, decides to accompany them -- maybe she couldn't sleep.

With a groan, Iciclepaw follows suit, white paws graceful despite her somnambulant pace. "What's the point of being up this early if we aren't on a patrol?" Her senses are clearing, the morning wind brisk against her short mottled fur, but the complaint is sharp nonetheless. She'd been looking forward to sleeping in, but Smokethroat seems to have some secretive plan.

It's not until they get to the river that Iciclepaw is fully awake. She sits beside her mentor and the other apprentices, stifling an enormous yawn. "What's still here? The river? Did you think it'd disappear?" Her tone is neutral, but her words are purposefully acidic with sarcasm.

He's gesturing across the water, though, to the strange creatures gliding smoothly across the water. Magnificently white, sleek like a RiverClan warrior's pelt, with long necks and graceful, silken movements. Iciclepaw stares, tilting her head. "They... they aren't ducks, are they?" She knows what ducks look like - and these creatures are a hundred times more lovely to look at and listen to.

- ,,​

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[SMOKESTAR]

"They're called swans." He answered simply both Ashpaw and Iciclepaw's questions with a light nod, lounging in a light crouch to watch the birds gracefully dip around one another and scoop up water in quick, frantic jerks of their beaks as they tilted them back. The awkward fledglings around them, reminding him very much of Fernpaw with their big eyes and jerky movements, were inching along closer and closer to the shore to peck about the pebbled land.

Resisting the overwhelming urge to dunk his apprentice into the river for her sass, he shook his head with a dismissive snort to Iciclepaw's usual quips and sarcasm. One day she was going to mouth off to the wrong cat and he hoped she would remember what he taught her at least so she could punish the fool who did. Until then, he would thrash the cat who dared instead.
"They look real beautiful, but I've never met a more fearsome thing before. When I was younger I had the daring and stupidity to try and take one out. One swing of that neck sent me tumbling, it chased up a tree. Was stuck there until sundown when Moss finally came to fetch me."
Like hell he was climbing back down after being brutalizing by a pretty turkey. Even when it had left he had refused, clutching onto the branch for dear life and wishing he'd practiced climbing more before that point in his life. He still wasn't the strongest climber even now, but he managed much better than his younger self. Still, you would not find Smokethroat foolish enough to go head to head with a swan, especially one with its own kits to protect and a mate nearby. That was just asking for a beatdown.
"Lilybloom brought home a feather from one of them once, they're much bigger than normal bird feathers. Maybe they'll leave a few behind when they go."


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