development SPEAK TO YOU IN RIDDLES [ waters edge ]

[claythorn]

There was... way too many thoughts abuzz in her head. Too many. She wanted to find a ditch and lay in it for a day, what she had done, what she had planned for? She inhaled softly, still feeling... still feeling like she was watching herself from afar, down a narrow tunnel with squinted eyes. The her about three or four moons ago would have never dreamed of doing what she had done, and much less with who she chose to do it fot. Claythorn inhaled sharply as the water brushed at her paws.

Standing at the edge of camp, mismatched golden eyes shifted to look at the water, and... it was warm. Warmer then she realized. It was always a fear that chased her out of the tide, one that made it hard to swallow any breath she inhaled, and a struggle to inhale to begin with. Ears tilted backwards as she settled forward, a step sinking her into the very calm tide. She was hardly up to her shoulders by the time she stopped, the water brushing at her stomach. This was fine, she was fine. She was going to be fine. It was just a little water.

Her head turned suddenly, ensuring no one was near to push her head under, to toss her to the current. No one was close enough, if anything, they were watching quietly. Claythorn looked back forward, and... anti-climatically, she settled into a sitting position, the warm water swirling around her, but she wasn't moving. Still, in the shoreline's embrace, sand and stone alike underpaw as she sat silently. Her thoughts were not so slow and peaceful, however. I will.. need to learn. For them.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech" // at the waters edge in camp! baby gorl slowly getting over her water fear
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no current love interest / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[shellpaw]

the first time shellpaw had witnessed claythorn take to water, she’d emerged dripping with golden - tinged crystalline, a stone clutched protectively between age stained teeth. she’d been stiff — near trembling at each muscle padded edge, unwilling to meet any lingering eye with anything but a bark melting glare. obliviousness had its merits, shellpaw had found ; lifeless features locked lax and passive when mismatched fur catches the corner of her eye, broad shoulders rippling as she meets the shore, the shallows, breathes deep and settles slowly into the warm water and shellpaw flicks her ears forward, watches, strawberry hues lit syrupy against the low evening light. she sits, and sits, breathes — shellpaw can count it on thickly toned flanks, does so in her mind as she lifts to her paws. one.. two.. three.. four.. her body does not lose its tension. not even with winding birdsong overhead, with the lull of greenleaf sweetened waters coiling a gentle pull at her paws, river spirits whispering an encouraging thrum in the crickets that chime suddenly louder.

lilac capped paws find the rippling shoreline in a mosquito - hover haze, making her way through sap thick humidity with a semi - tilt of curious skull. wraithlike in her silence, the halo of alabaster curls drifting around gaunt limbs in fishbone ribbons when she takes to the water, never quite so hesitant. never so nervous ( did she need to be? ). she takes the warriors side, casts her gaze finally away from her back and out towards where mismatched eyes cast far into the distance. there is silence, for a moment ; she feels the pebbled soil curl beneath her toes, algae soft and squishy at pale pads. when she speaks it is sudden, hoarse and cracking and dovey soft as ever. for once tentative, maybe, because claythorn was.. claythorn. untouchable, all her suffix and more, ” do you think that .. that you could help me find a stone? a good one? “ one day soon, too, because pinekit was quickly approaching time for her ceremony and shellpaw was still empty - pawed, still searching for the right mottle of amber and black she sought, the one that in her minds eye she clutches tight as claythorn had when she’d emerged moons ago.

she wonders where that stone went, the one that haunts her green - eyed memory ; a shining, round edged thing, beautiful and still dripping with riverwater. she is tempted to ask, told in the way sweet amber eyes flit over the curve of her profile, blank, studious.. but in the end, she decides against it. for some reason, the thought makes her belly turn.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
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  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENSTAR ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

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[lichenstar]

✦˚.✦˚✦˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✦˚✦˚✦.˚✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Time's passage was as inconsistent as the banks of the river... changing with the wavering brutality of its water-heavy months and stagnating in the winter when everything slowed to snail-like pace. The warmth lit the surface in dappling heat, soothing aching joints of the elders as they bathed... Distantly, a thought asks how many of their youngest warriors would see the same relaxed retirement someday... it felt more common than ever to not even reach an age that beget the title of "senior" warrior.
  
  Deep sea eyes rest upon sepia-toned wisps as her warble-breathed daughter wanders towards the stone-lined shore (that barrier had been lovingly placed by kitten-tiny paws for safety... or so Lichentail had told them) in desperate search of something. Not unusual, really... not with Hazecloud's aptitude for gift-giving and the general rock-loving culture of the clan... Aesthetics were nothing if not important to their image and their slowly forming traditions. The more surprising sight is actually a swirl of bonfire fur wriggling into the shallows to take a nervous seat with feet firmly planted on the riverbed.
  
  She could remember her assessment... the chilling brush of cold water over both of them as she'd helped Claypaw not to drown just before warriorhood. The nervous, quiet admission of her fears- a promise she'd made that she could discover power over her fear in peace. Lichenstar wouldn't make a mockery of a dry-paw struggling to learn not to be one. It's heartening... to see that in the summer months she has found some bravery to try again... The act of getting up to join her however, seems like a fair bet at getting on Moonbeam's last nerve... The pale molly had never really given her any sort of lecturing but after Ravensong's moons of griping, it's a hard habit to kick.
  
  She was perfectly content just to watch as a silent supporter, one of the few (if there were any others...) that understood why this moment mattered to Claythorn so much.
• about
  
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  
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[splashdance]

Splashpaw knows not of Claythorn's apprehension. The term dry paw is only one that she's learned upon arriving to RiverClan and indulging herself in its customs. It had been a surprise to her that there were moggies here that still detested water despite living in lands where it is most plentiful. It hadn't occurred to the black she-cat, either, that she could so easily deny water-training. Her paws are naturally webbed and in being from the marsh, a little bit of wet underfoot never startled her. It's odd, she thinks, that among them are cats that have more aversion than her - and selfishly, she thinks how that just makes her the least bit more RiverClan, somehow.

Nevertheless, Splashpaw has never bothered to parse out the cats who cannot (or will not) swim. It's a crowd that surely she does not want to become particularly fond of, lest she embolden herself with more ways to be teased. She approaches the shoreline only because she wanted to see if there were easy catches for her to snag (Lakemoon has enforced that she must get better at fishing and no longer avoid it.) Blue eyes flick over to Claythorn and Shellpaw as the frail molly asks the other for a little help. And though she knows Shellpaw does not like her, she takes a step closer.

"I can help too...!" she offers. "I have a good eye for shiny things," Splashpaw continues, waiting for permission from the other. There's a sense of normalcy in the interaction - perhaps something that Claythorn needs in the moment.​

 

[shellpaw]

splashpaw sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong — a commonality, and shellpaw can only assume the entire reason she was allowed past another clan’s border. at least claythorn had fought, proved herself true and brave through the rogue attacks, clanless and haunted and trudging towards glory. not a stealer, or an abandoner, like splashpaw was ; not family nor food must mean a thing to her, if she could try and take another’s. hearing splashpaw’s voice is like hearing the shrill cry of birdwarning overhead, cumbersome and impossible to ignore, a cry to break the peaceful lap of water over the shore. i have a good eye too, she says, and shellpaw purses pale pink lips, tips her head back pointedly to address the white - speckled apprentice with a look up and down. and then, back away, ” not — not that i’ve seen. “ she crackles simply, with an air of barbed disinterest. she wanted pretty stones, good enough to gift.. she couldn’t have them when splashpaw’s version of shiny things very well could have been crumpled twoleg trash. it probably was.

it’s a terrible offer, so much that scorn boils over her veins and rushes in velveteen ears ; she wanted to spend time with claythorn, she wanted her to help shellpaw find a stone for pinekit. what if the mottled kit touched a stone splashpaw picked out and suddenly wanted to go join thunderclan? there was some sort of contagion in splashpaw’s offer that she releases back into the murky water like scrawny minnow, praying her watching mother doesn’t lend her unwillingly to a poor evening, ” ospreypaw is probably looking for you, anyway. she — maybe she needs help. “ help being perhaps a stretch of the word, ospreypaw was braver than she was ; ospreypaw was tall and strong, like claythorn was.. but ospreypaw was more paw - forward than she was, and if she takes the girl out to play with her again, maybe it would make it to where all shellpaw seen of the dark molly would be the remnants of bubble breath pooling at a newly unbroken surface. as long as the tabby kept letting her up at the final moment, shellpaw figures splashpaw could at least go live up to her new name a little more before shellpaw asked her for anything.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
• 
• 
  
  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENSTAR ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

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[pebbletail]

(☼) tiredness echoes in his bones as he lays tucked up beside his mother. her presence calms him, lulls him into a sweet sense of safety he only feels when she's around. her cool blue gaze follows the form of claythorn as the molly settles herself in the shallows, and pebblepaw will lift his head from where it rests on his paws to seek a closer look. the former colonist had never been one to seek out time in the river. pebblepaw understands more than he is willing to let on- the chill of the water, its depth and swiftness, all of this had frightened him as a kit and in his early apprenticeship. hazecloud and then foxtail had both soothed his fears about the water, and now he lives in it as much as out of it, but he knows how claythorn is feeling. embers of pride for the sunset-hued warrior glow in the young tom's stomach. as shellpaw approaches the lone warrior, cheerful voice asking for aid, pebblepaw allows a small smile to slip across his face. ever the understanding girl, his sister knows exactly the normalcy her clanmate must need in this moment. he settles his head down again, allowing flame hued eyes to slip closed.

it is a few moments later that splashpaw's voice reaches his ears, and he peels his gaze open again, finding her slender, snow-dappled frame. an involuntary grin will grace his maw at the sight of her, something he stifles almost immediately in the presence of lichenstar. he can't seem to eager to see her or his mothers will start asking questions. stars forbid they start assuming things!

offering lichenstar a soft nuzzle, the boy gets to his paws, feeling his muscles tense and tremble as he stretches the exhaustion from them. shellpaw dismisses his friend outright, mentioning something about ospreypaw, and a frown will furrow the boy's brows as he meanders towards the trio. "splashpaw, how 'bout you and i look over here, and claythorn and shellpaw can look there." offering the three a dip of his head in greeting, the tomcat will gesture to a shallow bit of river a few fox-lengths away. he hopes he can rescue his friend while also respecting his sister's feelings, and not make anyone uncomfortable.

I DO NOT HAVE WINGS, LOVE ☼ I NEVER WILL

• // " #848DAE"
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  PEBBLEPAW ☼ HE / HIM, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORED BY FOXTAIL. 8 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblepaw's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.

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[claythorn]

Eyes did settle on her flank- not that she minded this time. This time, she knew it was bound to happen. Sunlight dappled off the water, rippled with her interruption- and another's. Ears twitched, and vision displaced from where she stared at the water to look towards Shellpaw. If she remembered correctly, she was related to Beefang, to Cicadaflight. Claythorn inhaled softly as the question was posed, though it looked like Shellpaw wanted to ask more, there was... a tentative smile put onto her face.

It felt akin to muscles pulled taut. These ones, that lit up her face with a warmth normally unseen, were not used often. It almost burned, but it was genuine. In a funny way, it almost felt right to ache like this in a genuine joy. When was the last time someone approached her like this, in a soft voice, in an ask to do something... genuinely silly and fun. Things that Claythorn never got to experience, even sheltered in Riverclan as an apprentice, even on the banks of a frozen river as an orphaned kit. "Maybe so." Claythorn said quietly. "What are you looking for?" She asked.

Out of the corner of her eye did she spot other cats- firstly, Lichenstar. Golden eyes skipped away from Shellpaw to meet with the leader's, ears perking. Locking eye contact, if Lichenstar did as well, and hovering there. No words were spoken out loud, but it was a conversation that Claythorn lended to with her eyes. I'm getting there. Moments later did her head did, whether it was out of respect or a seal of the words she just spoke.

In her distraction she had barely noticed Splashpaw approaching, and her vision shifted. Before she could get a word out edgewise was Shellpaw speaking again, and face fell flat once more as she let Shellpaw do the conversing there. Whilst the warrior wasn't strong on knowing what apprenticed like who, she could draw a conclusion here from the barbed guard Shellpaw had put down. Her vision lifted as Pebblepaw gave an out for Splashpaw that wasn't a verbal lashing from the sickly she-cat beside Claythorn.

And for a brief moment, a soft, mirthful chuckle left her, vision slinging back towards the rippled water. This did feel normal. The apprentices lightly arguing, her leader watching on, water that they all trusted inherently brushing around her body. Claythorn inhaled slowly, paws pressing against the stone and sand. "You just let me know what I should be looking for, Shellpaw." She finally hummed, relaxing into the tide's ebb and flow.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, fifteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ mated to otterbite / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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