- Jun 11, 2023
- 128
- 41
- 28
❀‿ Lupinepaw and Cherrypaw were proving to be somewhat unreliable moss-collectors.
Moss-collecting patrols were sent out constantly lately, and murmurs of worry at having to make more sickbeds every day rippled through camp. For a pair of four-moon-olds, though, even their concern for fellow clan members could not override the excruciating boredom the task barraged their short attention spans with. As of now, their half-hearted heap of plant material lay forgotten beside them, abandoned in favor of more artistic pursuits, as well as some light gossip.
"No yeah, I've never once seen Slate not look like someone peed on his paw," Lupinepaw giggled as she worked a trumpeted blue flower into an orange patch of fur on Cherrypaw's tail, "Looks tiring to keep up that glower all day long, but maybe he was just born looking like that...?" She snorted again at the image of a tiny newborn kitten with a huge scowl stuck permanently to his face. "I'm, uhm, really sorry you have to deal with him every day, like actually..." Whatever amount of prestige the tom had in the skills that led to him being named Lead Warrior was lost on Lupinepaw, who was convinced she would never be able to look past his nasty attitude directed at her brother and mother, and the girl resented having to pad around him anytime she wanted to talk to Cherrypaw. It would be for this reason that the typically cautious youth would have no complaints as they strayed a little bit farther than the rest of the patrol than was necessary to "get to the good moss"—staying out of earshot from that particular warrior was worth the walk.
If one noticed Lupinepaw's small steps out of her shell of meekness—tufty ears pricked upwards and gaze sweeping the floor less than usual—she would recognize them as a side effect of the newfound joys of girlhood. Some of the heaviness that had sat perpetually in her chest had been lifted in that quiet moment she shared with Drowsypaw, and she took delight in being able to tie their experiences together like a ribboned-up gift they were given to share. Similarly—though, also markedly different—Lupinepaw was excited to be in possession of something she now shared with Cherrypaw in a friendship she seemed to weave into her heart as easily as she wove stems and petals into her pelt. Or perhaps weaving flowers was even a tad more difficult. "Mousefluff..!" she clicked her tongue in disappointment as a disagreeable flower fell softly to the ground from where she tried placing it into the fur on Cherrypaw's pale shoulder, "How'd you say Spiderpaw did it so they stick better again?"
She picked up the bloom by its papery petals to give it another go when she was met with a fat raindrop to her snout. Lupinepaw blinked lichen-green up past the pine canopy and to the sky above to be met with thick, oppressive grey. Lupinepaw hadn't noticed the clouds roll in earlier that afternoon, nor did she pay much mind to the way the greenleaf heat turned heavy and humid on their fur. "Hm, I didn't know it was gonna rain today... she murmured idly, still watching the branches above them glisten and sway beneath a pattering of droplets. Suddenly, something in the sky shifted, and it was no longer a quiet drizzle that fell from the heavens, and the forest was hit with a sudden downpour of heavy rain. "I think we should go meet back up with the others," Lupinepaw stood to her paws, wincing at the feeling of the water soaking through her thick black fur and through to her skin, "...Or it might be better if we just go straight back to camp, I-I think we could get back quick if we run." At least, she assumed they weren't too far from camp. She was rapidly beginning to realize how much harder it was to trace back their pawsteps as the rain drenched the forest around them, washing the scents away with petrichor. Suddenly, the familiarity of the sky-touching pines became unrecognizable, dark, looming creatures that towered uncaringly above them—the lush undergrowth now a hostile maze of soaked, bitter-smelling leaves. Lupinepaw's sureness in their location swiftly depleted, and a familiar sense of panic rose toward her throat.
If the rain wasn't enough, a sudden flash lit up the sky, and soon after, the roar of thunder shook through the woods around them. It was then that she'd noticed the sudden lack of commentary offered by her companion, and she was filled with concern at her sudden shift in demeanor, "Hey, Cher? Are you okay?"
Moss-collecting patrols were sent out constantly lately, and murmurs of worry at having to make more sickbeds every day rippled through camp. For a pair of four-moon-olds, though, even their concern for fellow clan members could not override the excruciating boredom the task barraged their short attention spans with. As of now, their half-hearted heap of plant material lay forgotten beside them, abandoned in favor of more artistic pursuits, as well as some light gossip.
"No yeah, I've never once seen Slate not look like someone peed on his paw," Lupinepaw giggled as she worked a trumpeted blue flower into an orange patch of fur on Cherrypaw's tail, "Looks tiring to keep up that glower all day long, but maybe he was just born looking like that...?" She snorted again at the image of a tiny newborn kitten with a huge scowl stuck permanently to his face. "I'm, uhm, really sorry you have to deal with him every day, like actually..." Whatever amount of prestige the tom had in the skills that led to him being named Lead Warrior was lost on Lupinepaw, who was convinced she would never be able to look past his nasty attitude directed at her brother and mother, and the girl resented having to pad around him anytime she wanted to talk to Cherrypaw. It would be for this reason that the typically cautious youth would have no complaints as they strayed a little bit farther than the rest of the patrol than was necessary to "get to the good moss"—staying out of earshot from that particular warrior was worth the walk.
If one noticed Lupinepaw's small steps out of her shell of meekness—tufty ears pricked upwards and gaze sweeping the floor less than usual—she would recognize them as a side effect of the newfound joys of girlhood. Some of the heaviness that had sat perpetually in her chest had been lifted in that quiet moment she shared with Drowsypaw, and she took delight in being able to tie their experiences together like a ribboned-up gift they were given to share. Similarly—though, also markedly different—Lupinepaw was excited to be in possession of something she now shared with Cherrypaw in a friendship she seemed to weave into her heart as easily as she wove stems and petals into her pelt. Or perhaps weaving flowers was even a tad more difficult. "Mousefluff..!" she clicked her tongue in disappointment as a disagreeable flower fell softly to the ground from where she tried placing it into the fur on Cherrypaw's pale shoulder, "How'd you say Spiderpaw did it so they stick better again?"
She picked up the bloom by its papery petals to give it another go when she was met with a fat raindrop to her snout. Lupinepaw blinked lichen-green up past the pine canopy and to the sky above to be met with thick, oppressive grey. Lupinepaw hadn't noticed the clouds roll in earlier that afternoon, nor did she pay much mind to the way the greenleaf heat turned heavy and humid on their fur. "Hm, I didn't know it was gonna rain today... she murmured idly, still watching the branches above them glisten and sway beneath a pattering of droplets. Suddenly, something in the sky shifted, and it was no longer a quiet drizzle that fell from the heavens, and the forest was hit with a sudden downpour of heavy rain. "I think we should go meet back up with the others," Lupinepaw stood to her paws, wincing at the feeling of the water soaking through her thick black fur and through to her skin, "...Or it might be better if we just go straight back to camp, I-I think we could get back quick if we run." At least, she assumed they weren't too far from camp. She was rapidly beginning to realize how much harder it was to trace back their pawsteps as the rain drenched the forest around them, washing the scents away with petrichor. Suddenly, the familiarity of the sky-touching pines became unrecognizable, dark, looming creatures that towered uncaringly above them—the lush undergrowth now a hostile maze of soaked, bitter-smelling leaves. Lupinepaw's sureness in their location swiftly depleted, and a familiar sense of panic rose toward her throat.
If the rain wasn't enough, a sudden flash lit up the sky, and soon after, the roar of thunder shook through the woods around them. It was then that she'd noticed the sudden lack of commentary offered by her companion, and she was filled with concern at her sudden shift in demeanor, "Hey, Cher? Are you okay?"
- OOC: @Cherrypaw
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lupinekit. lupinepaw
— trans she/her. 4mo apprentice of skyclan
— ??? ; single
— tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
— smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
— “speech”, thoughts, attack
— icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
— penned by eezy
