silver soul | nest re-making

[strawmoon]

Just a couple hours ago, in the early morning, Sootstar had called a meeting. And in that meeting, multiple cats became 'paws' and Strawpaw became... Strawmoon. Icepaw became Icebreath and Firepaw became Firefang. Starclan honors your strength and devotion, Sootstar had said. But... Strawpaw (moon, they correct themselves) doesn't feel strong nor devoted to their new name. It's an empty feeling that eats away at them as they stare in to their nest. It's old, and worn, it needs to be changed. They'd completed their duties, cleared out the tunnels they had been assigned to look in for the day, and came back with some new moss.

A small sigh slips from their lips, eyes downcast as they got to work shredding the old moss and throwing it out. I should be happier is all that echoes in their mind as they dutifully work. What should have felt liberating, freeing only feels like another thing to do and their paws already itch to go in to the tunnels. With a heavy heart, they start to bring their new, half-made nest closer to where the warriors sleep rather than the apprentices. "It looks boring..." Strawmoon frowned. They get to work on it once more, maybe they could find some feathers or something later to help spruce it up. Or maybe they can start their own collection of things... Whatever it is, Straw needs to get something to make it look less dead.​

"speech"​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerpaw is still adjusting to their new name, their new rank. It was strange, the idea of sleeping under the open sky, away from the nurserymates they've known all their life, away from the few kits they'd managed to befriend. There were so many cats here, it all felt overwhelming to the new apprentice. Their nest was still hasily-made, with the help of their family, but they kept changing it again and again, clawing away at the moss, never satisfied. They've brought all their favorite things out from the nursery, the little collection they'd accumulated by their nest, interwoven and buried. There's a hollowness in their chest at the act.

With less hiding spots out here than in the shelter of the nursery, many of the tortie's trinkets lie abandoned, with Sunflowerpaw unsure of what to do with them. They watch absently as Strawmoon drags their nest away from their own, away from all the apprentices. At least they're not the only having to deal with such change. The warrior's words strike a chord with Sunflowerpaw, a lament at the dead look of their nest. She's right, it is boring.

...Well, it's not like they're using all of this anyway.

Sunflowerpaw surveys their own nest, a messy hodge-podge of half-made moss and hoarded treasures. They don't know Strawmoon well, won't have the time to share apprenticeship with them now that they've become a warrior. They can't know what the tortie would like, but they'd still like to make their nest at least a little nicer. It's just sad.

Carefully, Sunflowerpaw pulls a few wildflowers from where they've been interwoven into their nest. With newleaf on the horizon, there's been more and more flowers around. They pad over, eyes averted from Strawmoon's. They don't know them well enough to feel comfortable presenting the gift, so instead they silently weave the flowers in with the nest, then step back and observe their handiwork, glancing over at Strawmoon to see their reaction. The flowers will wilt, of course, in time, but that's alright. For now they are a pop of color in the dead of the nest. Sunflowerpaw can always bring more, once their color has faded.​

 

[SNAILSTRIDE]

"You've given up on yourself. StarClan knows how I'm supposed to work with such a thing, but one thing's for certain: I won't let you become a warrior until you get your act together" They were words spoken yesterday that still rung in Snailpaw's ears, at first as background noise but now, with the meeting behind them, a grim reality. Another round of apprentices had surpassed them, doing the bare minimum and sometimes nothing at all was beginning to become detrimental, they could only grimace at the thought of the upcoming conversations they'd be forced to endure if they stuck around camp long enough. Snailpaw had been on their way out when they noticed Strawmoon fiddling with nesting material, their ears tilted in different directions as they assessed them. Words escape the other that Snailpaw had to lean forward to hear. Until Sunflowerpaw brought flowers from their own nest to line Strawmoon's, they weren't even sure if they'd heard them right. But, sure enough, they were complaining of a dull nest. Ouch, they could empathise. Their own nest contained a hodgepodge of feathers and rocks, perhaps they'd offer Strawmoon a congratulatory rock the same way Elkskull had been offered one, but that required its own ceremony.

"Weeeell, if you ever need a moor-runner apprentice to give you the best places to find fancy nest stuff, I'm your guy! There's plenty of lil' things that get lost on eyes that are just focused on the boring stuff like food and borders, like..." Sapphire eyes widened exponentially. "An owl feather! There was an owl flying over ahead not too long ago, I bet we can get you a big old feather for your nest the next time I go out, how about it, huh? Would an owl feather make it even better?" Sunflower's addition already made the nest look less plain, they didn't want to overshadow the new apprentice's efforts, but the idea of going on a quest excited them too much to keep quiet.


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[SUNNVAR]

Sunstride had grown accustomed to sleeping as he could, and where he could. In the moons of their traveling, more often than not he and Wolfsong had lacked true nests. Their own pelts fared well enough, then, oftentimes tangled together in the temporary padding of moss beds or packed snow. They had been brief, unimportant beddings, meant only to provide warmth and moderate comfort. Now, though, things are much different. There is strange ceremony behind one's nest– he may call it so, at least, but at his heart Sunstride understands the routine. It is a symbol of growth and change. The older warriors spiraling every inward, and the younger filling the edges. After this meeting, there will be another slow shift of this glacier. Strawmoon and Sunflowerpaw both embody this. He looks at them, and feels only....strangeness.

An odd moment of youthfulness, or perhaps of intrusion. After all, he stands here not as one caught in this shift or abandoned to its tides the way that Snailpaw had been. He was an outsider, watching. Waiting, almost. It is as if he looks at them through the warped waters of a frozen lake. Deliberately, Sunstride begins to press at the dividing ice. "Owl feathers are not just good decoration," he agrees, "but an addition for softness. Should you find one, it would serve you well in your new nest." A brief pause. "Should you take this adventure, however, be wary. Owls are not kind birds; they have been known to carry off young wanderers on silent wings." It would seem a potent symbol of strength, alongside the softness it would provide.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[Mintshade]

"It looks boring~!" Her falsetto comment rises in pitched mockery, sleek and long-limbed black form wandering over to the gathered cats and their suggestions to Strawmoon's nest. Their newest warrior was already griping, that was a great sign for things to come. She had a feeling she'd be cuffing this one on the ear a lot in the future.
"It's a nest, kiddo! Don't need to be pretty, just needs to work! Kinda the opposite of some cats in this clan, huh?" Was that a barbed comment at any of them present? Who was to say, but Mintshade rolled her shoulders in a shrug with a grin and didn't elaborate any further; if a cat took offense to it then that meant they were prolly the one she was picking on to begin with. Acid green eyes watched Sunflowerpaw set about weaving in flowers and she wanted to gag on impulse at the sudden floral scent in the air. Never been fond of flowers or most plants really, hilarious given she was named for a plant that grew near the old marsh territory. Didn't like that specific one either! No exceptions to her sense of smell being plagued by aromatic nonsense. Twin black ears flicked upward to the suggestion to go chasing some predatory bird for its molts and she cackled as Suntride tried to disuade them a bit too subtly.
If she didn't know any better she would think he was goading them into fighting an owl for something as stupid as feathers. It sounded like a proper challenge to her but she had the sense to not go head to head with an owl. Awful things that they were, they'd slit a cat up real quick without much hesitation and it wasn't a wound you'd walk away from too easily. Birds had nasty talons, dirty too, you'd get a nice rot festering away in a cut from one of those monsters.
"Settle for some pigeon ones if you really need to bother, less the work and all feathers look the same."
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[strawmoon]

Out of the corner of their eye, Sunflower materializes. They watch them carefully, a little wary, until their shoulders relax as they realize what Sunflower is doing. Theres now wildflowers woven in to their nest, a beautiful pop of color and Strawmoon isn't sure what they can do to thank them. A rusty purr rumbles in their throat. It looks a little less bland, a little more lively, brought from the world of gray Straw had originally been seeing since the ceremony. Running on autopilot, they were. "Pretty..." they mumble softly, sending a grateful look towards Sunflower. They think they're nice...

Snail is next and Strawmoon blinks, slightly tilting their head as they realized they've been sitting there for a little bit. Silent... Snailpaw was silent, like Strawmoon, and Strawmoon doesn't know how to feel about that. Did they too try to make themselves small? Eh... Straw is overthinking. "An owl feather...?" they blink to Sunflower then to Snailpaw. They've never seen an owl before and Straw almost wants to ask more about it before they bite their tongue. They're a warrior now, shouldn't they know this? Straw looks away. "That'd be nice, I think." Sunstride follows up, telling them that the bird isn't a kind creature. "You could come with us. If it had just flown by, uh..." do they sound stupid? Their ear tips burn at the thought. "Theres bound to be feathers on the ground, right...?"

And finally does Mintshade arrive, her tone mocking. Immediately does their stomach churn and they puff out a breath through their nose. Their state deflates to what it is normally as they brush the flower petals with a paw, eyes turning downwards to just stare at them. "Okay... Sorry..." their voice is quiet. Straw had seen Firefangs ire towards others, but never towards them, would it have stung this much if it had been towards them instead? Strawmoon is a warrior now. They've never cried before and they certainly wont now. They'll just have to settle with pigeon feathers after all.​

"speech"​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He's learned not to underestimate the importance of both a comfortable place to rest and one to consider yours, solely. They live communally; they share the prey they catch, the land they live on, the enemies they face, glories and defeats. It is not a bad thing— it is survival, but that does not mean that personal interests are not to be had. There is no harm in wanting a nest that strikes the eye. It will be Strawmoon's, none other's, and he slips in close to Sunstride with a nod of agreement and a smile for his new apprentice.

But unfortunately there are mouths in WindClan that do not run as cleverly as their legs.

Strawmoon is clearly affected by it; their posture sags and the flowers gifted by Sunflowerpaw must be an anchor for their gaze. "Pigeon feathers are a fit choice," he comments sagely, seemingly in support of Mintshade. "Fit for a creature whose shits are larger than what sits in her skull." Grinning, he looks to Strawmoon, hoping to catch their eye. "And that is not you. You are a WindClan warrior— the feathers of your nest should be from the greatest of birds, a reminder of the strength that lives in the moors."
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[Mintshade]

Strawmoon immediately being dejected didn't phase her, if she wanted to go chasing owls like an idiot then she could but unless she was bringing home food then her tunneling ass better be working double time as far as Mintshade cared. It was with a shake of her head did she turn to see Wolfsong aproach, only for him to agree with the most underhanded little remark she could think of. The soft kittens in this clan were a laugh, she expected better of one who was once a rogue and frankly if he wanted to pick a fight she was glad to give it! It would be her utmost pleasure to give him a matching set of crisscrossing scars over his other eye for all the good they were worth.
"Eheheh, careful golden boy. Mercy let you join this clan and a lack of mercy can take you out of it~" A snickering hyena cackle of a laugh rose from the dark she-cat as she smiled at Wolfsong, "If you ever want to test if your claws work as good as your mouth does then by all means ask me! Happy to assist!" And she was, genuinely. Nothing instilled in her more excitement nor thrill than a battle and her claws ached to return to the old days of ripping apart kittypets that thought themselves proper forest dwellers, she'd sent her fair share scampering back to two-leg place and she'd continue to do so with any future ones who crossed her path. The rogues were both a blessing and a curse, excellent numbers but some were a little too goody-goody for cats who had struggled to exist before WindClan. Hardened hearts led to sharper claws, but if he sister welcomed them then she'd tolerate them all still. Thus far, most of them were fine though she had her concerns on this one and Sunstride for their blatant disregard for raising true warriors.
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[Bluepool]

Rest right now, it seemed, was not in the picture for the silver tabby she cat. She peers at the loud cats with pale yellow eyes. The only thing that sucked about the cold was the fact that they all had to sleep in holes together for warmth. She was sick of cats voices echoing off the walls, of cats bumping into her and stepping on her in the middle of the night. It was driving her crazy!

She isn’t paying much attention to the conversation as it stands. Something about a nest not looking good, something about bird feathers. She doesn’t know, she doesn’t care. But the second she hears her sisters voice, testing someone to fight her ears stand straight up and she lifts her head. "whos claws are we testing? I want in!" she says almost a little too excitedly

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