camp SLEEPING IN ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ EARLY FROST


⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆  When Swansong wakes up, it is to a harsh sort of chill. The colors of dawn creep across the sky, but the chirruping of swampbirds and cawing of corvids is silent. Something is wrong. Slowly, lethargically, the pale warrior rises from her nest. The marshlands are quiet, and even the cicadas do not sing. Her paws drift across the damp earth, and she emerges from the warrior's den into the hazy glow of morning.

The camp dances with refracted sunlight, draped in ice.

Dewdrops have coalesced into frost, hanging off dead branches and climbing up grass stalks. Swansong shivers, glassy eyes wide. "How strange..." Death has grown hungry, and its season has crept in far too early. It has already staked its claim on ShadowClan's camp, an omen of a harsh leafbare to come. They lift a paw to brush against a frozen over puddle. It is beautiful - glinting iridescent in the dawn's glow - but deadly. They know this all too well. The cold has never been a kind thing for the marshes.


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  • SWANSONG  she / they, warrior of shadowclan, eighteen moons.
    a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
    dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
    halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
 
It was not a sleepless night for her, but Agatepaw was in awe of how the camp now looked. It was cold and harsh, but it was pretty in a way. If not for the cold and implications it brought, she would simply stare at it a while, mesmerized.

"Aren't we supposed to have longer before this happens?" she finally decided to say, mismatched eyes full of confusion and worry. "It's so cold." A shiver went through her body, and Agatepaw audibly groaned softly. She didn’t like this. Even if the camp looked a little pretty.

…Maybe this would be her chance to prove herself though, if things were going wrong.​

"Speech"

STEP FROM THE DARK TO THE LIGHT
 
⚛︎₊˚‧ Unlike his clanmates, Amberhaze had already awoken hours prior, the Leafbare chill dragging him from his nest with ill-bred claws that flayed thin flesh with ease and bit down against brittle bones already exposed despite the seasons premature change. The sight of frostbitten marshland and ice promising to form against deep evergreen branches sent his head reeling and his instincts into overdrive. He was no stranger to the hardship of Shadowclan winters, or Shadowclan hardships in general- however he always prayed with desperate resolve that he would one day no longer need to endure its cruelty. To be seeing its effects so early, especially after everything they had already lost, was like being torn apart by the wet jaws of a rabid wolf.

He had wasted little time then, running out of camp and getting into his stash of resources accumulated over the course of the recent moon in preparation for such an event. Running around the territory following the claw marks upon thick pine trunks he had set for himself for years in repetition in the event of a resource disaster should everything die before they had the chance to stock up in time for the heart of the cold's unforgiving malice. It was absurd, really- and yet he knew it would help, if not the clan then himself, and if not himself, it would do well to at least ease his mind and allow a false sense of security to bloom in which he would hold onto with iron claws.

Now he stood in the center of camp, piles of preserved prey and things of all nature such as bedding materials, wall reinforcements, things woven by his own two shuddering paws that nobody else but him could even comprehend the shape nor purpose of, feathers, moss, leaves, and even stones all piled into a disorganized (but organized in his eyes) pile. It was madness, as he was mad, but he would never see reason when the proof of early death loomed over them and would surely only worsen.

His eyes lit up as his clanmates stirred and made their way outside, their surprise and disdain for the unwelcome surprise apparent in their body language and tone of voice. "Oh! H-Hey. Can you believe it- it- Leafbare has come e-early! We didn't even have time- t-to- uh- winterproof the camp! Luckily I- uh- I already foresaw something like- like this h-happening, so I got up b-before the sun even had a chance a-and brought all the- uh- resources I could! C-Can someone...help me haul in t-the prey? Uh- it's been...dried- so definitely a little leathery b-but edible! And non perishable!" His body was a twitching mass, nerves and neurons rapid firing inside of him like a firecracker as he struggled to keep an ounce of composure under his building stress. A twisted and wobbly smile- or perhaps more of a grimace- plagued his face as he tried to play off the fear that was impossible to hide.
 ° . ⚠︎ . ° 
  • ooc: oh brother get a load of this guy
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    AMBERHAZE — HE/HIM ・ 20 MOONS ・ WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN ・ PENNED BY SLOANE
    a short but lengthy black cat with a boney build and striking ocher eyes filled with unveiled trepidation. black oriental shorthair.
 
  • Dead
Reactions: SHARPSHADOW
Alarmed and confused murmurs ring out across Shadowclan's camp, quickly causing the molly to rise to her paws. Shoving past a pair of npc warriors standing huddled at the entrance to the warriors' den, Salamandersnap halts beside the trio, taking note of their shivering. Despite her long fur, she too was shivering. Something was dreadfully wrong, and every fiber within her being was screaming at her that something was off. "Normally." A short response came to Agatepaw's inquiry, unsure of why leaf-bare was here so early. They normally had another moon to prepare, and now? What were they going to do?

Amberhaze's yapping rang out through the clearing, and as much as the tom got on her nerves, she was glad that someone at least had been successful in hunting this morning. "Swansong, Agatepaw, help me bring in what he's brought back. We can take the food to the elders and nursery first." While not intending to come across as demanding, it seemed as if it were in her nature to be demanding of chores within and outside the camp's walls. Padding over to Amberhaze, she would begin to haul in the supplies, finding a suitable, dry spot for them to be stored.

"Where's @MIRESTAR ? Are they still sleeping? We'll need them to start sending out patrols to find more prey and gather supplies to reinforce camp. Or even @SHARPSHADOW or @lilacfur . They can tell us what patrols need to be sent out right?" She shakes her head as she gazes towards the leader's den, hoping that Mirestar at least had a peaceful and warm night of rest. "If leafbare came this early I'm afraid of what the rest of leaf-bare will bring us." Pausing in thought, she visibly can be seen deep in thought, staring at her paws before her gaze returns to the trio.

"Would it be a good idea to take a group of warriors out to the borders and see how bad it is within the territory? We can't be the only ones facing an early leaf-bare..." It would be a good idea to reinforce the borders would it not? If leaf-bare was hitting all the clans early then surely the threat of prey loss would be enough to increase tensions and conflicts with their bordering clans? The last thing Salamandersnap wanted to deal with was a bunch of pathetic prey thieves.
  • ooc:
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    ✶ salamandersnap. warrior of shadowclan  ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆。𖦹°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
    ㅤafab female, she/her | bisexual, single
    ㅤ25 moons old | ages every 00/19/00
    ㅤwarrior | mentoring stonepaw
    ㅤlong-haired black smoke
    ㅤnpc xx npc | close with none
    ㅤwritten by halimede, ic opinions | tags
 
He wakes up with a harsh chill, filtering through the den. An eye cracks open, fringe parted slightly to show a little bit of his sleepy - eyed gaze, roaming around the Warrior's Den. Large, dark ear swivels over to the pale - touched figure of Swansong leaving her nest. He huffs from his nostrils, not bothering to get up for the day... But he is curious on what made his fellow warrior to slip from the den. Batchaser lets a sigh escape his split colored maw. Slowly, languidly, he raises from his nest with a shake of his short curled pelt.

From what he could hear, the marshlands are quiet this day. He lets his jaws part open with a yawn, ivory fangs flashing from behind his lips– he shuts his maw shut with a small click. Pale knuckled paws carry his lanky from the warmth of the den, outside and bare to the hazy glow of morning. The split - colored phantom let's the friendly gloom of the Warrior's Den wash away to study the chill of leafbare with a craned neck. Huh... Eyes widen through a darkened fringe covering them, his heterochromatic gaze flick around camp that was now draped with ice. He hovered near the den for a moment, before stepping a paw out into camp with a shiver. "Oh, ain't this a surprise..." His muzzle wrinkled up in distaste at the chill that seeped beneath his paws. He knows his pelt won't protect him solidly like his thick - furred clanmates, wouldn't really keep him from the brisk chill of winter. He wonders if Shadowclan will even survive winter's cold touch. Teeth dig into his tongue, as a grimace curled his lips. Ears swivel forward, as well as his head to stare at the ever - shaken Amberhaze with a raised brow. What in the–

Hidden eyes dart to the materials at the paws of his clanmate with a slow lash of his pale tail. Was Amberhaze always prepared? It was madness. Feathers, leaves, moss, even stones all piled in a disorganized mess. He lets his head tilt downward to look at the pile. "You are... prepared. Huh, where'd you even find... half of this stuff?" He rumbles a response to Amberhaze's twitching figure.
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  • ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER.shadowclan warrior.
    ― CISMALE ; HE / HIM ; CURRENTLY 36 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 10TH.
    pansexual / not actively looking — mentoring none.
    a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
    thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
    may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
    — all opinions are ic

    biography / @ on discord for plots
    — penned by calzone
 

The first thought that crosses Scalejaw's mind is that she'd have nobody to warm her this leafbare- Chilledstar was long gone, her normal choice for tucking into other long fur- and Smogstar had disappeared. Her second thought was that of wait, what? Eyes blearily cracked open to Salamandersnap hustling out of the den, the sound of clanmates worried for what this meant.

Her eyes drifted shut again. Scalejaw didn't want to get up. The cold made her body ache- she wasn't even that old, arguably, but it did make her ache. Batchaser wasn't long after the others, so she is finally spurred from her cut-short rest, stretching before she leaves the warm clutches of the den.

Ears flatten against her skull as she squints out into the frosted camp. Frost? She is slower in her thoughts, the other cats already putting plans together. Amberhaze has a pile of things best described as 'stuff' in her mind, Salamandersnap already asking the important questions, apprentices abound to ask if this was normal. Most hadn't experienced leafbare like this- or, at least, it's onset. A paw reached up, swiping at an eye before she begins to form actual, in-depth thoughts.

"There is no way the other clans aren't also as cold as us." She agrees with Salamandersnap in her own way- hopefully, there was no argument to spark by saying that. "But... still not a bad idea to gauge how they're doing. How the prey is doing." She states quietly, before dropping into a full-stretch, her body popping here and there.
  • "speech"
  • SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, warrior of shadowclan, sixty five moons.
    A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
    mentoring no one
    padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

Spoiled by the warm weather of his early life, the little bird is bitten to the bone by the overnight frost. He shivers violently as he rises from his nest, peering balefully from the shadows of the apprentices' den, only for a moment of kit-like wonder to overtake him at the sight of the camp. Lavenderpaw has never seen crystals before in his short life, no quartz veins in rock and certainly not the Moonstone, but if he had, the comparison would seem apt. In reality, all that his inexperienced young mind can conjure in this moment is the idea that all the stars had fallen into camp.

Nonna had warned him about this season, though, and her gruff reminder isn't far from his mind in spite of his wonder. Hunger is something he's intimately familiar with, Nonna had made sure he knew what it was to have an empty belly and endure it, but starvation is another beast entirely. And cold, he's never truly known cold before now. Lavenderpaw greets the new concepts as if they have minds and souls - I'd appreciate it if you didn't eat me this year, thank you!

Cold is like hunger, or pain, he thinks. An uncomfortable fact of life like the ones Nonna taught him to endure. As much as he hates her for her harshness and her abandonment of him to these strangers, he draws upon her lessons and takes a slow, deep breath, steeling himself. The cold is unimportant, a distraction. His awareness of it is pushed downward, the sensation of it replaced by the sound of Salamandersnap's voice ringing in his ears. If he draws that to the forefront... well, it doesn't work as well as he'd hoped, likely because of the sheer scale of the feeling as opposed to a wound or an empty belly, but it's something.

He shifts impatiently on his paws to warm himself up, eager for something to do that isn't just standing around and freezing his paws off.
[ HOLD YOUR LIGHT TO THE DARKNESS IN MY HEAD -- ]
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] The commotion had gotten to him before the nip of the cold air which seemed to seep through even his long fur, already many were gathering, some suggesting to seek out Mirestar and the council to begin delving out patrols and tasks to quickly do what they could to over come this sudden leaf-bare wind that nipped at everyone. Yellow gaze drifting from Swansong, to Amberhaze, who already had many of things surpisingly astocked, Scalejaw as well as Salamandersnap while Agatepaw and Lavenderpaw seemed to both also be shivering their tails off.

"Hunting patrols as well. If its like this now, I'm sure the creatures are all scurrying to get to warmth, this will be a harsh moon if we don't prep fast enough" he expressed towards the group, claws flexing slightly. Anything to make sure the clan survives this leaf-bare the tom would be sure to be on the heel of it. Surely as well, Lilacfur and Sharpshadow would agree to what the young warrior expressed, as well as the rest of the clan who seemed to be all in a panic over this.

"When Mirestar and the others arrive to assess the situation... I'll make sure to help out where I can" he stated coolly, it was a shame they lost a skilled hunter and one of their lead warriors before such treacherous weather came upon them. Perhaps a bit of him couldn't forgive Forestshade for abandoning them when they needed her skills, but also... he was sure the former was struggling as well, and they still had Mirestar, and Lilacfur as well as Sharpshadow and many others who could help and provide for the clan, one less shadowclanner would not bring them all down. They will survive.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowlark He/Him, warrior of Shadowclan, 14 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
Promisekit doesn't notice the morning's chill right away. He's tucked in a downy nest with three siblings and a father, after all - in a well maintained nursery that even a bear cannot run through. He's comfortable, even, and groans his upset when noise begins outside of the den. Mismatched eyes flicker open, and as soon as he lifts his head from the haunch of whatever sibling he'd been tangled with, it hits him. A freeze that he does not know yet presses into the once warm spot of his cheek and he winces.

"... Huh," he breathes out; not necessarily soft by any convention. His normal careless tone feels sharper with the change, something more akin to that of his parents. Promisekit does not lament in his sleepy demeanor, reluctantly pulling from the mess of fur and legs to follow the noise outside. His frustration follows as ShadowClan cats chat about how this is leafbare's doing... but isn't leafbare still moons away? He'd been told that he wouldn't see snow until he was a few moons older. Who's lying here?

Amberhaze's mess of materials quiets the odd sense of angered curiosity in the child. Most of it is natural, pulling out a long, fluttery, "He's been hidingggg stuffffff...!" Accusations gifted from a kitten should mean nothing, in truth; Promisekit still doesn't know just how volatile his Clanmates can be. He lingers by the nursery, holding to the little warmth that still radiates from inside. Salamandersnap prattles on and others join her and Promisekit cannot be bothered to follow in the fear in worry, only spouting a, "Can I have a feather?" to anyone who'd listen.
 

It might have been the cold itself that pulled Gigglepaw out of her dreamworld, but she was quick to let a shiver wrack her body before puffing out her pelt in an attempt to stave off the chill that had descended upon ShadowClan - and, presumably, the rest of the forest. She curled into herself, begging a few more minutes of slumber that didn't come, and she could hear Clanmates outside of the apprentices' den already discussing the cold. What'd it matter if it was cold? Wasn't it supposed to be?

Frowning, Gigglepaw padded out of the den, eyes falling on Amberhaze and his collection. He certainly seemed prepared, and if one cat was that prepared, then surely ShadowClan as a whole would be alright, even if it was cold. She wondered if Forestshade was doing alright with this apparently premature chill - maybe the she-cat should've stayed with ShadowClan, at least until Leafbare was over. The thought made Gigglepaw's frown deepen, but she quickly shook it off when she heard Promisekit's voice.

"Promisekit! It's pretty cold out, isn't it?" Gigglepaw chirped as she hopped over to her cousin, offering the little kitten a big smile before turning her attention to Amberhaze, keeper of the treasure that Promisekit so desired. "Hey, you should really give him a feather. What are y'gonna use it for, Promisekit?"

 
Jostled awake not by the sound of speaking clanmates but by the movement of sibling unfolding himself from the limbs of the other three, Tinykit wakes to side being stung with cold where Promisekit had only moments prior lay. Fur rose from it's usual flat position before he is quickly standing before shaking to try and get the cold away - he didn't have a name for it quite yet, the cold that bites at his skin under his short fur the way it did now, later it would be called freezing - before silently the boy followed pursuit of his brother, ears pinning to his head as the cold of the walls outside the nursery pierce his skin more than it had when he had been inside. The want - no, need - to be back within the warmth was smashed by his need to be near his siblings, that need to make sure they were okay when no one else was around, so instead of moving back inside he'd move towards Promisekit and aimed to press his flank against his brother's, whether it be to make sure the other knew he was there or simply because he was cold he would not share.

The question of whether or not he could have a feather left Promisekit's maw and quickly blue eyes looked over to where his brother's did, tail-tip twitching slightly at the sight. "I want one too!" It came quickly, the words leaving him just as those eyes pierced Amberhaze. Eyes turned quickly to Gigglepaw as she bound over, saying that a feather should be given, and he couldn't help but agree.

  • --
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  • TINYKIT ♡ he/him / kitten of ShadowClan

    ♡ 2 moons old. ages every 1st
    ♡ born to Flintwish and Ashenfall
    ♡ brother to Promisekit, Mercykit, and Smokykit
    ♡ mentored by None
    ♡ speaks in #7b7bbf
    ♡ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ♡ penned by tikki
 
Curled up in her nest, Shalestorm finds that in the cold moons she tends to sleep later. If that's her body's way of conserving heat and energy or just some quirk of hers remains to be seen. Azure eyes crack open at the sounds of alarm ringing through camp, and blue plumed tail covering her nose shifts away, head rising with a yawn as the warrior gets to her feet and peers out to see what the commotion is about.

A glittering dust of white gently coats the whole clearing - it's not snow, but it's as cold as it and the forewarning of what's to come. They should not be seeing frost this early in the season, but here it is, twinkling cheerfully as the rising sun shines down, her rays not strong enough to melt all at once.

She is not the only one concerned, the other warriors mutter their concerns, Salamandersnap specifically asks about Mirestar, about the possibility to send out patrols for more prey or to the borders - to see if the other Clans have experienced this misfortune as well... Shalestorm sort of hopes not, even as a tiny voice in her head she tried to muffle back to silence thinks 'but if they're suffering too that means ShadowClan is not weakened by comparison...' the thought is unkind, and it's filled to the brim with ShadowClan first mentality, something she is not mad about, but feels guilty about all the same. Why would she wish suffering on any cat? Even from another clan? Just so that her own won't be the weakest in the forest? It feels sticky and gross to think about, so she pushes it out of her mind.

"I don't mind going on a patrol if Mirestar wants volunteers," Shalestorm offers, and she's smiling, trying to seem her normal, cheerful self in spite of this bad omen. "Might be good to gauge the situation in the other Clans."



  • ooc -

  • #e36f90

  • (img) Shalestorm * she/her* 27 moons
    blue point/blue chimera w/ low white; blue eyes
    Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
    penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots
 
"what's with all the— oh man it's freezing." newtchaser had been roused awake by the kerfuffle, curious to know what exactly was happening but the moment they stepped foot outside the den they were immediately caught off guard by the abnormal chill that seeped passed their thick fur and quickly abandoned their question to instead press close against the nearest clanmate to preserve some warmth. discussions flew back and forth, mostly about what needs to get done right now and what patrols should be sent out when mirestar eventually joins them in conversation.

newtchaser was only half paying attention though since their focus is soon taken by amberhaze and his collection of items that suddenly appeared in a messy pile hastily put together in the center of camp. "wow amberhaze you were super prepared!" the smoke chirps, easily impressed by how much their clanmate had gathered. the dry prey is what piqued their curiousity the most, wondering if the flavor has changed due to the lack of moisture. it sounds like a tough chew but honestly its leagues better than having to eat literal garbage from the carrionplace.
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    NEWTCHASEReccentric warrior of shadowclan
    a long-haired blue smoke with low white and green eyes.
    afab, genderfluid, any pronouns | pansexual
    25 moons, ages every 19th | created 10.14.24
    npc x npc | sibling to salamandersnap
    mentoring n/a | formerly mentored n/a
    actions, 'thoughts', "speech"
    penned by cobatic | toyhouse | pinterest
 

The cold had left Lilacfur wanting to stay bundled in her nest all morning, huddled close in the mingling of thick fur. Any shift or roll invited a cold chill she wasn't anticipating for at least another moon, but the leaf-fall air lacked mercy as it invited itself into the empty pockets of moss, stirring her unceremoniously.

"Fff-whoof." Lilacfur shuddered in her stretch, clenching her teeth as her fur bristled against the cold. She could hear the rise of several voices outside the rooted cave, from the tone of conversation she could guess the discussion was going the same flow as the thoughts stumbling through her head.

Lilacfur pulled herself away from the slightly-warmer-than-out-there den to regard the conversation and perhaps provide some shred of insight and order. Her eye fell between the glistening frost encasing the brittle blades of dry grass, Amberhaze's collection of materials, and Salamandersnap barking this way and that. She cast a sideways glance towards Scalejaw, wondering if the older molly found the warriors lording just as amusing as she did.

"Ah, I see I'm not the only one rudely awoken by this..." She vaguely gestures to the encroaching layer of ice with a frown. "Unwanted guest. We'll get a handle on this right away." Tattered ears angled back to listen if Mirestar had followed her out of the den, part of her hoped they hadn't. Without a Deputy and a selfish absence to their council, they had been working themselves far too close to the ground.

"Amberhaze! Well done with all this, thank you. Why don't we start with getting the dens built up against the cold. Work up an appetite and get to hunting, yeah?" She would be sure to keep a look out for anything Sycamorepaw might like to add to his nest, if her newest kin didn't beat her to it.



 
The sounds of unsettled voices drift into the nursery, cats unsure of this sudden onset of frost, but they do not bother Smokykit, locked in a dreamscape. Neither does the loss of one warm body, though she does stir slightly at Promisekit's departure, her muzzle twisting into a small frown as she shifts closer to the remaining warmth in their shared nest. Perhaps if that were the end of it, she would not have woken for quite some time, tucked away safely in the confines of the nursery, but as luck would have it, this is not where that story ends; instead, Tinykit ventures out as well, prying open an already-gaping hole in the nest. This, now, is enough for one sleepy amber eye to slide open, a yawn splitting Smokykit's features as she tries to gain her bearings. "Mmm...Prommy..? Tiny...?" she murmurs, and it is only as the monikers leave her that she begins to register the voices outside.

Slowly, slowly, Smokykit creaks to life, scraps of moss still clinging to her curls as she stretches, taking some amount of care not to disturb the remaining inhabitants of their shared nest - that is, if they weren't as late to the party as she was. Stepping outside, the first thing the kitten sees is a gathering near the center of camp, but that sight pales in comparison to the aching chill that's suddenly settled into her bones, her skin, her everything. Even with her downy-thick fur, it's enough to make her whiskers quiver - when had it gotten so cold? Never before has she felt anything like this, and it seems like the others are all equally upset about the development. It was supposed to get cold eventually, she's pretty sure, but it didn't quite feel long enough to be eventually, in her opinion.

Spotting Promisekit and Tinykit tucked next to Gigglepaw, her slow gait erupts into something more of a trot as the sounds of growing concern fill the brisk leaf-fall air, though she's stopped in place by a small crunch beneath her paw and a blooming, wet sense of cold. "Whaaaa...?" she intones, flicking her paw carelessly in an effort to rid herself of the sharp, cold sensation. As if it had sprung up from the ground itself just to taunt her, a once-perfect patch of frost, now stamped with a tiny pawprint, lies directly in her path, though she has no metric by which to understand the strangely cold water. Unsettled, Smokykit skirts around the patch, offering it a wide berth and a wide-eyed glance as she moves to join her siblings and cousin, fur beginning to rise along her spine.

Whatever this encroaching cold is, it's clear that nobody else is happy about it, either, though it's hard to tell whether this is an unnatural fear or not when her gaze is so clearly drawn after Promisekit's and Tinykit's. A great few piles of things lie before them, gathered proudly by Amberhaze, and suddenly the chill and the worries of her clanmates are pushed aside as Promisekit asks the most important question of all - can he have a feather?

Tinykit is quick to follow suit and, not wanting to be left behind, Smokykit quickly chimes in too. "Oh, me too! Me too!" Her chirp is not dampened slightly by the cold that seems to lay itself heavily over the others, burning like a stubborn ember, and she looks between Gigglepaw, who so graciously agrees that Promisekit should get a feather, and Amberhaze, the keeper of said feather. And other stuff too, not just feathers - actually, now that she's looking a little closer, there's a lot of cool stuff there. Weird-shaped sticks, strangely rubbery-looking frogs, pretty-patterned stones...

"Or a cool rock?" she amends, eyes darting eagerly about the collected items. Maybe a rock wasn't as soft as a feather, but it was still cool, and besides, if Promisekit and Tinykit both get feathers first, she wants first pick of something, at least. Feathers and moss might serve as a boon with the coming weather, but it's not Smokykit's duty to worry over that yet; for now, she's more focused on whatever childish games she can concoct with the proffered materials so thoughtfully strung out before them all.​

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  • SMOKYKIT. She/her, kit of ShadowClan
    .Flintwish x Ashenfall, littermate to Promisekit, Tinykit, & Mercykit
    . 2 moons old, ages on the 1st
    .An ill-proportioned, smoky molly with bright amber eyes and an exceedingly curly, tangled pelt.
    .Enthusiastic and vibrant, easily distracted, prideful & caring - friendly within reason
    .Peaceful & healing powerplay permitted - brushing up against her, shoulder bumps, etc.
    .Penned by Hijinks - feel free to DM me on Discord to plot! ^^
 
A chill lights the fur along her spine the moment she steps outside. Yeah— She's gonna panic. Of course she's gonna panic. Apparently, all at once, Leaf-fall decided they were ready to go for carrion season. Who even cares that they've never really been ready for it, even when they could reasonably expect it.

ShadowClan gathers to gawk as a collective. Agatepaw says something— Yeah, they were supposed to. Sharpshadow is squeezing his eyes open and shut, as if seeing had a single thing to do with the cold winds brushing against already-showing ribs. Great. Alright- great. He tries to breathe; tries to relax, but his breath chills in the air in that way that it shouldn't be yet, and he's gawking as if StarClan themselves have descended before his eyes.

Amberhaze starts- starts yammering, because that's what he does, she guesses. It's weird, the way he's not quite terrified, but like... pitching something? Oh, he foresaw this. Should Sharpshadow be thankful he's broken her out of her stupor so she can glare at him? " Of course you did, " she grits. And there's just a bunch of... weird... stuff around him. Cold be damned, why is no one else questioning this? This- clearly insane behavior? She sure didn't expect Batchaser to be one of the only cats to pose a question. Some of the younger cats are distracted by like, feathers, or something... Salamandersnap is acting as if she owns the place, as usual. Sharpshadow casts a weary eye toward Lilacfur, hoping— expecting her to say something at least, but it doesn't come. Is she losing it?

" So— " his mouth is dry. Barely a word is uttered before it catches on itself, and he's feverishly looking around, because apparently this was an unpopular opinion. " Um, are n-none of us going to talk about how Amberhaze was apparently... just sitting on all of this stuff? " Feathers, rocks... She blinks despairingly at the kits. They could've had this stuff who knows how many days ago, apparently. Her muzzle scrunches in an ugly expression. " Why would you catch prey and not bring it back to camp? "
 
He is flanked swiftly, the edges of the cold ebbing away with each sibling that tottles after him. Tinykit to one side, Smokykit to the other - and graciously, a kind Gigglepaw just before them, blocking any wayward breezes from ruffling their kitten pelts. The greed of a feather encases each downy kitten, the chill beneath their paws swiftly forgotten in its favor. His sister even suggests a rock as a gift, as if one pretty enough can ward away the chill. Promisekit does not clarify anything to Smokykit, grinning cheekily as surely she will broaded their hoard.

The discussions of the freeze are no longer forgotten as the kit waits eagerly for an answer - one that does not come so quickly as warriors sort themselves into chores and patrols in the wake of the frost. Sharpshadow speaks, and the little tom purses his lips in minor shock. "I said...!" he starts, childish petulance pulling his voice from his throat. He lets out an upset groan, waving a white tipped paw in the air. "Whatever. No one ever listens to a kit," Morose is his retreat. He is much too young to be heard, he supposes.

He turns his frustration towards Gigglepaw once again, deciding to shift his energy into further greed. "Are there any blue feathers, Gigglepaw? I learned that birds come in all sorts of colors..." He craves a reward for catching Amberhaze's dastardly action, even if he isn't recognized for it.​
 
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