camp scrutiny |✿| nesting in the open

Nov 29, 2022
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It was about time Daisypaw made herself a proper nest.

On her first night in SkyClan's camp - that is, the night they got there - she had been directed to a den to sleep in. She didn't have to peek for long to realize it was the nursery, where the kits slept. In spite of it all, that moment had filled her with a sense of indignation. Yet by the time she turned to inform the guiding warrior that she was an apprentice, they had already walked away.

Off she had gone, then. Not into the nursery, but a secluded spot near the edge of camp where she had managed to settle down on the earth and curl up tight, wishing for it all to have been a bad dream. It wasn't.

In fact, the bicolor apprentice had only wormed her way into the nursery only once, late on a particularly cold night, instead opting to seclude herself in the furthest corner of the den despite the soft words of an awoken queen.

She didn't want to sleep on her scraped-together makeshift nest (under stars that felt dull and faded in comparison to the expansive skies of the moor) anymore. She wanted a real one. A soft one.

The thought had struck her sometime the following day. Daisypaw wasn't quite sure how to go about it, really. She couldn't leave camp. At least, she had never tried. She would just get lost. Everyone seemed intent on treating her like a kit anyway.

Briefly, she recalled the time Echolight let her help with making their nest, patting down moss with plenty of breaks to play with it. Her throat tightened a little, and she firmly shook herself, biting back the threatening tears. She wasn't a kit anymore. Wasn't, wasn't, wasn't. She couldn't cry all the time. Only kits did that. So with a sniffle, she went off in search of moss.

Well... ferns, then. After all that, she only managed to find a scrap of moss clinging to a rock, barely enough for half a nest. She would just have to make do with it, carefully pressing it out just like her mother did. It felt like so long ago. Plucked ferns lay scattered about. She didn't want to ask anyone for moss, and the thought made her nervous, so she worked intently with what little she managed to gather.



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) Bearheart couldn't even begin to imagine what life was even like over in WindClan. But those who found their way out alive painted a grim picture of what it could be, and it sent shivers through the round tom. He didn't have it in his heart to show any ill towards the likes of Daisypaw or Dandelionwish, or even Coyotepaw.

From a distance he had watched Daisypaw gather some ferns and a bit of moss, and from what he could see he assumed that she was prepping it for that of a nest. Though he wouldn't lie, what she had didn't make for appealing bedding in his opinion. The tom couldn't hold off any longer as he moved into the warriors den. A few moments later he reappeared and he made a steady approach towards the youngster, and once close enough he deposited the mouthful of pigeon feathers and moss that had come from his own bed. He knew he could spare it. Crouching himself down, he hoped to seem less imposing. "Hey there little one, I brought ya somethin' soft for your nest." He explained with a cheery smile on his features. "I'm Bearheart, I don't believe we've had a chance to speak before."
 
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The newcomers to Skyclan were filled with hostility and bristling of fur, but what could they do? Bananapaw had sour feelings on Windclan since the skirmish with them over plants, but they had done nothing to hurt her. They weren't that dark coated cat that had given her the missing ear tip or the scratches across her eye. It was just the medicine cat, or what was the medicine cat, and a young kitten who couldn't be more older than a few moons. If anything she felt empathy for them and she hated it. She was already an outsider to the clans because of being daylight apprentice, so this stance on the Windclanners would be very outputted.

From afar, green hues watched the young she-cat as she scraped together remains for a nest in the open of camp. There was a slight tilt of the head as the black and white kitten seemed rather frustrated with her stance in the middle of the clearing. Why was she out in the open? Wouldn't it be more comfortable and warmer to be inside the nursery or a den of some sort? Then again, Bananapaw had no idea what Windclanners did while they slept. They could travel to the mountains or something and take up residence there, with how paranoid Sootstar seemed to be she wouldn't be surprised if they took extra measures to ensure safety.

Bearheart eventually went over to the young Windclan cat and Bananapaw found herself leaning forward before fully getting to her paws. The tawny and white cat curiously watched the interaction between the large warrior and the kitten, and she gave a soft smile as he offered her something for the nest. She perked up at the mention of stuff for a nest and she bounded over with excitement, "Oh i know! How about I grab some stuff from the twolegs? They have this stuff thats super soft and warm!" She suggested happily as if her idea was brilliant.

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There was... some degree of apprehension present in Twitchpaw's mind whenever he thought of the WindClan refugees that now lived within the walls of their Clan, some that would have died otherwise and some that had the right connections. Always, always did he worry about new arrivals, no matter where they came from- it was never a slight against them, but simply a step his own mind hat to take before he was comfortable. Still, he could not shake that crawling worry that WindClan would come and look for them- take them back. They knew where their camp was. They could rain hell on them if they really wanted to, and- he would bet they really wanted to.

Daisypaw was no exception. He did not look upon her with fear- she seemed not to have the sabre-sharp fangs of a WindClan-born mind, seemed pretty content as long as she was near that ex-medicine cat. But... a youth, snatched from under the moor queen's nose... he'd heard that story before. Same thing had happened with Coyotepaw. They'd come, and... there had been no violence then, but who was to say what else would ensue? They'd doubtlessly lose their patience, collapse to the berserk, set their sights on war when the new leaf warmth began to roll in...

"Won't you- get cold?" A question laced with incredulity, the unruly tom's head poked out from behind Bearheart as he gestured half-heartedly with his white paw to her nest. Was this some... WindClan custom, to sleep outside?
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