so just coast with me * pebble and trinket hunt

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. when they leave, when he's running so fast the strain on the the kittens body body is intense, pain shooting down his legs. when they leave to take refuge he later also feels a sinking, bitter disappointment that his collection will be inevitably strewn and scattered. upon their return finding that that is the situation is, as he suspected, the nest and his belongings tossed astrew. with a heavy heart he's settled by the river. nothing's quite seething there, not jumping at the chance to hurt, the travel home seemingly subduing the frayed edges of his nerves.

near the nursery clear blue river washes by, hissing and bubbling over the rocks, crouched lies bitekit. he dunks a paw in the water, and then his head. a shudder shoots throughout his body when he resurfaces, soft belly pressed to the ground. he brings back up nothing but an intensely focused stare, looking down at the river as it there is something in there he isn't already seeing. he hasn't been lucky enough to find any shells, usually whatever he found was varying shades of grey, bitekit's efforts have gained him two round-ish pebbles, sitting neatly next to his crouched body. they're no where near as carefully selected as before.

bitekit huffs a sigh, throwing a paw into the water in frustration, hitting it when he doesn't want to look anymore, somewhat stunned when the water splashes up to greet him. he can't get much wetter after practically dunking himself but he is scandalized regardless. what he wouldn't give for anything with a shine to it. as fond as he was of rocks, they don't quite have that insane of an appeal to him.

"you!" he calls to any passerby's - seemingly as with the sheltering with clans, it's seemingly a busy time. braced for an irritated look or refusal due to his antics. he can only hope for the attention. "have you seen anything cool looking? shiny." the kit presses his jaw, preparing his request to be denied. water drops down from his face and fades into the floor.
​

 

[iciclefang]

Routine. She has to force herself to acclimate again to the culture she’d been born into. Dawn brings a smooth rising from troubled dreams, a quick and perfunctory grooming session, and then she’s up to find out what patrols she’s assigned to today. With Smokethroat taking over for Cicadastar, it’s up to the lead warriors to assign them—she doesn’t mind who tells her what to do, where to go, as long as someone does. On the journey, she’d risen when the rest of them had; she’d hunted on her own time, at her convenience (or inconvenience, depending on terrain), but now she is back where the hierarchy is firm and unwavering.

Part of her is troubled by how difficult it’s been to re-adapt. Part of her relishes the challenge. Concentrating on patrols, on hunting, on fishing, is a blessing. It drives grief from her heart. It hardens her mind, lets her focus when otherwise her brain cries to wander into memories best left alone.

The tortoiseshell strides across camp, her eyes trained on the reed-lined groves beyond, when an insistent little voice pipes up. “You!” It calls to her. Iciclefang turns, her frown deep when she sees who has spoken to her. “Have you seen anything cool-looking? Shiny?” Her jaws part to retort that she doesn’t have time for such frivolities, but then she stops, letting her tongue stay glued to the roof of her mouth for a few heartbeats. The kit has done nothing to her—the kit did not sicken her kin, send her to the mountains, force her to fall in love with a ThunderClan warrior, kill her sister, slay her leader. The kit has done none of that, none of that which she fumes over.

“No,” she says, but her pale blue gaze turns to the waters Bitekit searches. “My brothers are better at finding trinkets than I ever was. Ask Fernpaw or Darkwhisker to help you.” She does not even like to speak of her littermates, because between the three of them is a gaping, broad-shouldered hole that no cat will ever fill again.

, ”​

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[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. He scrunches his nose in annoyance at the tortoiseshell. "Then I don't need you then." Childish as per usual, he ducks his head to stare determinedly at the water. Who needed help? Certainly not him. He had built the collection by himself, and he could do it again. Maybe once he has the pieces together it'll ease whatever's going on with the seemingly tumultuous time his body is having. Their time in ShadowClan has left him feeling unsteady on his paws, a lurch in his stomach when he lingers too much on the upheaval of camp, the fleeing bodies.

He flattens his ears, something it seems that has become common for him. "Not even helpful." Is muttered under his breath bitterly. What he wouldn't do for his mother to join him, but he's sure the stress of the journey she needs her rest, as long as he'd known her she's not been well. He's confined to the camp as far as his search goes, as far as glittery things go, they'll need to come from warriors. He slumps onto his soft tummy, prodding at the water uselessly with a paw, knowing he's excavated most of the goods from this small area of the river, but seemingly unwilling to budge. Green eyes are reflected back at him on the waters surface.
​

 

[BUMBLENOSE]

Unlike Iciclefang, her mood was rather chipper after a bountiful hunt. As Bumblepaw walked into the camp after the patrol, a plump fish was held tightly in her maw. Her ears perked up at the sound of an insistent voice near the nursery. Curiosity getting the better of her, she made haste to drop her catch. Then proceeded to follow the direction of the aforementioned sound. Bumblepaw's gaze soon fell upon Bitekit and Iciclefang by the river. The young kit seemed determined, and his frustration was glaringly evident as he sought something shiny.

Intrigued, Bumblepaw padded closer, face radiating questions at the sight of the disappointed kit. She observed his attempts to find something, the scattered pebbles by his side, and the apparent displeasure on his face. It was clear that he needed help, and despite his initial dismissal of Iciclefang, Bumblepaw couldn't resist the chance to dig around. Swimming wasn't her forte, but gathering things certainly was.

Hoping to ease the grouchy youth, she calmly sat beside them. "Hey there, Bitekit." Bumblepaw chirped, friendly demeanor shining through. "I saw you looking for something. Maybe I can help! What exactly are you searching for?" She tilted her head, eager to assist the kit in his quest for something glittery. As she glanced at the water, her mind raced with possibilities, wondering how she could find the elusive thing.​

 

[Redpath]

A good way to deal with the soul crushing grief of losing a loved one is to LOOK FOR ROCKS. So that is what Redpath is doing, wading into the cold shallows to look for rocks. She is not alone in this endeavor she sees, and is glad the tradition of hunting for rocks is alive and well. The other clans dont have rocks like they do. The rocks in the river are smooth and pretty. What do the other clans have? Boring ass gray rocks that are rough and misshapen.

Clearly, Riverclan is superior.

She finds a particularly sparkling rock, one that's white as snow and round as the moon. She recalls hearing Bitekit say he was looking for something shiny.... And decides to pick the rock up and bring it over to the small group of cats and set it down by him for INSPECTION.

"How about this one? It's pretty and sparkly!" She chirps. If he doesn't want it she will be happy to add it to her hoard. Yes, hoard. Her collection has regrown and continues to expand, much to the dismay of anyone sleeping near her, probably. But she will not be stopped, because rock collecting is her favorite hobby.​

 

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. "This river sucks." He wrinkles his nose bad temperedly at the water, watching his reflection. "I don't think you can help me with anything." Grouses, looking to see Bumblepaw arrive before swiftly turning his head away. It's a childish rejection to the well intentioned apprentice.

It doesn't take him look to decide: that since he hasn't had much luck so far he doesn't have a choice but to with some reluctance, turn slowly back to face the Bumblepaw. "...Anything shiny. I had really round pebbles and scales. Mine got lost." An upset underlying in his words, tempted to throw his claws at anything, as if it would relieve the frustration under his paws. The attachment to his few possessions in the aftermath of the invasion leaves him off balance with the realization that his things can just be taken and destroyed. They were his.

Redpath's discovery has him unable to hide his admiration for her finding. He's rising to his feet to circle it, usually glaring is eyes are rounded to the shine and sparkle. He appreciates it's uniqueness. With a paw scooped, he swipes it closer to his possessions pile, as if to show that it's his. "I'll take it." He's ready to spit venom if his possessions are encroached upon.
​

 

[iciclefang]

The little kit’s voice is like a sharp bite, true to his name, at Iciclefang’s dismissal. “Then I don’t need you,” he grouses, and then tells her that her suggestion was not helpful. The tortoiseshell’s eyes narrow, and she lifts her paw, preparing to cuff Bitekit over an ear for being disrespectful—and then her gaze catches the pale gold of Bumblepaw’s, who immediately offers to help. She lowers the paw she’d aimed at the kit’s ear, letting the apprentice take over.

Thankfully for Bitekit, Redpath finds a stone and offers it to him. The kit immediately latches onto it, calling it mine, and Iciclefang’s frown sharpens again. “We say please and thank you to Redpath for offering.” Kits! She can hardly believe the lack of respect the little tomkit displays for his superiors. Had she been this bad?

, ”​

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