camp song of storms > light rain

[ThistleBack]

It was not a roar of storm, the thunder to be heard was low and the clouds only a gentle grey rather than a harsh black. The lightning had not yet come to play, and Thistleback returns to camp seeking the softest patch of grass in the heart of camp. Wound tight in his shoulders, the muscles felt stretched and angry. He almost wanted to bite into his own shoulder picturing it steaming out from the punctures and leaving him painless and relieved, clearly his imagination was running wild.

His skull-white maw scrunched in discomfort as he plopped onto the pillowy patch of grass, the nettles tickling under the pit of his arm and ribs but almost as soon as he landed, droplets of water crown his frame. Pattering, soft- like the pecks of chick beaks over his coat.

At first, he tenses with irritation. The odds, and audacity of timing. Though when the gentle splashes continue, he relaxes. His cheek pressed to the ground, he closes his eyes and breathes out. The feathery sprinkle was almost… meditative. Peaceful, his muscled arms tuck into himself as the misty weather slowly plasters his black thorn fur to his frame. He reopens his grey eyes, the rain too delicate to disturb his vision as he focuses on the newleaf flowers blooming through the cracks of the camp walls and dancing with the thrumming tick of the droplets.

" ugh, I suppose… a wash…was in order…" he mutters, defeated- a rare state for himself.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

• — all welcome ^
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningsun and Scorpionpaw
  — mentoring Teeveepaw formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Doeblaze traipses through the bramble - lined mouth of camp, raindrops clinging to her thick fur, plastering tufts of lilac to her tabby - streaked cheeks, her apprentice close behind. She flicks her brief tail obligingly, indicating that Cloudypaw's free for the remainder of the day—she has tried to temper her long hours and hard work with afternoons off for the tabby apprentice. The warrior has always worked herself hard, mercilessly, a sword without a scabbard she often leaves out to collect rust. That does not, however, mean Cloudypaw must ( or should ) behave the same way, and though he keeps long hours with her, she does her best to reward him for it.

She's staring at the entrance again, giving some thought to venturing back out—though stars know if she'll find any prey in this rain, no matter how light. If they've got any sense, the birds'll have retreated to their nests and the mice the dry comfort of their burrows . . . perhaps she ought to do the same. She concedes to her achy limbs and tired eyes, turning in the direction of the warriors' den, thinking of laying in the blessedly dry comfort of her nest, the spiced fragrance of sunflower bathing her . . .

Until she stumbles across Thistleback—almost literally, having narrowly avoided colliding with the shut - eyed tom in her quest for the sanctity of her nest. Backing up a half - step, her eye settles on the taut planes of his face, blinking a couple of times at the wartorn tom juxtaposed against the rain - dewed softness of the camp's verdant heart. She pauses, weighing her options—her nest is a familiar comfort, but she knows familiarity to be an adder wearing a rabbit's skin at times, velvety - soft and poison - blooded. Thistleback has, in their brief brushes, been courteous despite his savage appearance, and though she has not indulged the topic of a shared loss, she knows he was close with Blazestar. Before she was, even.

" For me, too, " she concedes to the rain in reply, settling down in the delicate feathering of the summer grass, downy - soft before it turns to the hard quills of winter. The warrior leans heavily on her forelegs, letting lacy rain mist her tired eyes, whisper across the dry starkness of her scars, tangle in the thick shagginess of her pelt. The droplets fall softly, bringing the kind of gentle touch she rarely feels.

Much like her sudden companion in the brief shower, Doeblaze is not known for her safekeeping of herself, nor for her meticulous grooming—hers is a pelt once soft, now lived - in, ragged and somewhat unkempt, an errand cast aside by a cat with other things on her plate. She yawns, drags a white paw across her face in an effort to clear bleary vision, mrrowing hopefully, " Perhaps some rain might break the greenleaf heat. "

OOC : —

♥︎

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[ThistleBack]

A shadow crosses him, but he does not worry over the chances of being trod over, he did not move but his eyes surface from dark rimmed lids. Eyes of colorless grey fall on the pelt of the widow, returning to camp as he had but looking restless nonetheless. She had made herself quite busy lately, hosting events for the apprentices and sticking to patrols like sap on bark. Avoiding her thoughts, Thistleback wagered.

Seeing her now, one could see what brought Blazestar like a moth to a flame, her pelt although unkempt is long and painted lilac with eyes like the deep forest. Thistleback eyed her momentarily, wondering of the memories she held with Blazestar- the side of their leader and his friend not so often shown. He craved the time lost, and grew curious of those he held close. Doeblaze, held closest of all. Thistleback’s jaw clenches, muscles churning as cogs turn, some part of him so often wishes to ask what he was like under the mask of duty. Through glimpses, it was not enough but what if Doeblaze was the simplest answer. Living, breathing, and putting effort in the clan- perhaps getting to know her could salve the wound of Blazestar’s loss.

for me too, she seems to capitulate as he did, opting to take the peaceful hand extended by this moment and settle in the veil of gentle rain. Their moons spent on this cruel earth, made moments like this all the more valuable perhaps. He nods in agreement with her words, " I cannot deny… this feels…. quite…nice " he mrrows, hocks bumping to the ground as he relaxes with a stretch that expanded him across the wet grass.

he uses the quiet moment to extend a few words, ones he hadn’t the chance to share since the meeting. " Your warrior name …. is beautiful Doeblaze, I want you to know… when I hear it, I do recall good memories. I’m glad for Orangestar to have chosen it. " he speaks, grey eyes shifting to the molly steadily. While some had remained silent during the celebration of her name, he knew their reasons but they didn’t fit his own. He had cheered her name just as easily. " you work hard for Skyclan, especially these apprentices. " he adds, jaw lifting from the ground, he is soothed by the gentle splatter of rain.

" I just wanted you to know that. " he finishes, closing his eyes again and leaning into the grass.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningsun and Scorpionpaw
  — mentoring Teeveepaw formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[Oleanderkit]

Oleander has seen rain before, but the growl of thunder has never failed to scare her in some small way. The rain that breaks over SkyClan now is not a roar or crash, but still its gentle hum forms a new mountain ridge down the kit's spine. Still, she does not cry out. She does not seek her mother. She pokes her lime-washed nose out of the nursery, palpitating heart ignored. Maybe she wants to enjoy the rain showers when they are gentle as lambs — but more than that, she thinks she would like to get to know this new face.

If I leave the den I'll be struck by lightning. If I get struck by lightning I'll die. If I die then Lovage will be sad, and I'd be burnt to a crisp on the floor, and nobody would want to look at me enough to bury me. These are obstacles that Oleander must face. Her solution: keeping her belly flat to the loamy camp earth, pine needles collecting in her wet belly fur. If she simply makes herself small enough, the lightning would surely find her uninteresting and strike somebody else. Thistleback himself has lightning rods sticking right up out of his spiky mane. Maybe if he was struck, she would be spared, and the whole Clan would thank him and bury him but not look at him too much anymore.

"Who are you?" Oleander cheeps up to Thistleback from her flattened position, glacial eyes imploring, squinting against the gentle rainfall. Each droplet against her skin makes her heart skip a beat, but the clouds seem reasonably tame today. Maybe lightning is not a concern after all? She turns to Doeblaze, then, familiar with the cinnamon molly and seeking comfort from her: "Is it gonna lightning? What was your name before Doeblaze? Is that like how everyone calls me Oleanderkit now?" A hearty sneeze expels a generous amount of snot from her petaled nose. She is not concerned with whether any of that snot has now ended up in Thistleback's pelt.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The drizzle was welcomed saturatin’ wooly obsidian fur till it darkened in color, but because of its thickness, Duskpool remained relatively dry beneath. It’s about time it rained. The scorchin’ weather had been a blister in his backside since the temperature rose to somethin’ unbearable, nearly makin’ the tom wish he’d been hairless. It had done a good deal on his achin’ joints — mangled from old injuries — compared to the wintry months that left him stumblin’ like a newborn foal.

A rumbled sigh escaped the warrior, havin’ come back from a huntin’ patrol to visit his grandkits in the nursery when molten hues noticed Thistleback and Doeblaze enjoyin’ the light splatter of raindrops. “Enjoyin’ the rain?” He rumbled, helm dippin’ in greetin’ when fiery hues noted Oleander’s crouched frame. “Careful kiddo.” He commented after she sneezed, wooly plumage comin’ to shield the small kit from the drizzle subconsciously, helm tiltin’ toward the nursery with questionin’ hues despite the guttural drone, “Ain’t ya supposed to be in the nursery? Don’t need ya gettin’ sick.” ​

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thought speech​

 

[ODDGLEAM]

Copper eyes lifted to observe the light veil of soothing drizzle falling on cats. Thunder rumbled across the grey cloud cluttered sky. He didn't mind the rain as much as others do, he isn't a Riverclanner by no means. Of course not. Rain was welcomed to his mismatched coat. He was perched near the nursery for today, greeting anyone who wondered close.

Oddgleam was settled in a patch of grass, as droplets of water grew his long - limbed figure. An ear swiveled to Thistleback and Doeblaze's conversation nearby, then to a squeaky voice of a kit. He hums as the curious kit asking his partner's mother a question on her own name. It was amusing to say the least, he lets out a soft giggle when Oleanderkit lets out a sneeze. Covering his maw with a dainty paw, as he lets his half-lidded gaze watch the interaction. He lets his thoughts drift to the flower patch he frequents on his off days, getting the little bit of water they need.

The feathered pale - patched tom laid his head on his forepaws, his tail sweeping along the dewy grass. He felt tired, but he didn't feel like getting up and traveling to the warrior's den. He noticed Duskpool approaching the small group, rumbling a comment on Oleanderkit going to the nursery, without getting sick. He silently agrees with the older warrior on that one.

COLORFUL STATE OF MIND ˚⊹♡ THE CHIMERICAL OVERDOSE ON LOVING

•  
• 
• ( bad attitude, actin real goofy ) ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ODDGLEAM. ╱ skyclan warrior.
  ♡ non-binary ; HE / THEY, fine with gendered terms. ; 15 MOONS & AGES EVERY 7TH.
  ♡ bi-pan / polyamorous / padding after crowsight & owlheart
  ♡ pretty, long-legged medium furred sliver-cream calico with copper eyes.
  ♡ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, ac7d88" ; attacks only
  ♡ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ♡ smells like caramel frappe & chilled stone
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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[Teeveepaw.]

QUICK, BEFORE YOU SKIP THIS SONG
WE ARE HUMAN AFTER ALL ​

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teeveepaw & 06 moons & nonbinary & they/them & skyclan daylight apprentice ​

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" Wet, " comes distressed warble, as Teeveepaw follows behind thistleback with hurried steps. In the moment of their return to camp, they look not unlike their mentor - short fur spiked up in futile attempt to shed the cold droplets that poke and prick at sensitive skn. Truthfully, in that moment more than anytime else, Teeveepaw regrets letting their family rope them into this, letting words weave such a wondrous image of clanlife. This? This is misery.

Mismatched eyes are wide and sad as the apprentice all but dives for the nearest cover, pelt twitching and whiskers quivering with anxious energy as they begin to clean themselves. tongue wrings water from dampened fur, but it still feels as though it is not enough. Is this what clanlife is like? Conversation flits about their ears, but in truth they aren't listening - instead thinking of how nice it'd be to be home tucked away in the warmth of twolegnest and away from this cursed rain. But that'd mean braving the shower - and Teeveepaw refuses.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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A N D ━ W E ━ D O N ' T ━ S T A Y ━ F O R ━ L O N G

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// drama baby does not like the rain

 

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ raindrops plop onto crochet’s nose, causing it to wrinkle. back in her house, she’d watch rain cascade on a transparent barrier. it’d drum against the glass, and she’d pap at the streaks it’d leave behind until someone told her to stop. a second one collides with her head, and it visibly surprises her, but it’s fun. crochet swats at the incoming rain, a few light puddles, grinning as it sends up stray droplets. it’s not enough to create any mud, thankfully, but the lilac molly is uncaring if her play will disturb anyone.

her ears can pick up her new clanmates chatting about the weather. she thought the thistleback guy was really weird splayed down like that in the middle of camp. he looked like a rug! rain clings to her sister's coat like burrs. one of the new kits–her fifteen seconds of new rookie fame lasted quick–is toddling around, asking questions like any wondering kitten would. it takes a village and all, sure, but she doesn't care if it wanders out in the rain like this. another young’n darts right past her. crochet plants her paws firmly on the ground, eyeing teeveepaw with a curious squint. this was one of the cats that leaves at night, if she remembers correctly. "it’s not that bad! are you really gonna hide in there the whole time?" her maw twitches into a playful grin.​