camp summer's gone, // incoming storm

bunnypaw

must be the curse
Jul 19, 2024
13
1
3
Bunnykit looks into their lonesome nest. It's just her, Breezekit, and Crunchykit now. Venomstrike visits as often as he can, but in order to feed their many mouths, it feels the warrior is out more often than he is not. Breezekit and Crunchykit are far more personable than she is, too, and often are off playing with other kittens - all while she simply stares at her bedding, and feels an intense case of sadness. Did you have to save them, Mama? She would never get to ask Rattleheart. You should be here... not in the stars. Resentment builds in her chest before fizzling out just as fast.

The cool winds that sweep over the moorlands ruffle her fur when she steps out of the nursery for some fresh air. She blinks, for although she's certainly experienced wind in WindClan, the chilled breeze actually gets to her skin and cools her down some. It's a slightly newer feeling, but the novelty of it fades quickly when a grander gust blasts into her chest. She peaks her eyes open again and sees a storm on the horizon. Oh jeez...

"Hey, um -" she goes to the nearest adult, a bit shaky in her tone. "It looks like it's gonna rain... The kits - we should go to the nursery, right? I have to... I have to find my siblings..."
 

The nearing storm is a welcome feeling. The air—heavy with humidity—clings to his fur and sticks to his lungs when he draws in a breath, compelled to a puttering stop somewhere in the fringes of camp. Since yellowcough reared its ugly head, everything's been all go! go! go! to pick up the slack for the sick. But now, as dense, dark clouds curl against the horizon, all of WindClan seems to resign to a slow stop. There's little to do when rain drowns the scent of prey, muddles the territory markers, and ruins a freshly fluffed coat. Little to do other than to wait.

A mouse-squeak to his right draws Sedgepounce from the trodding mull of his inner thoughts. He casts a skeptical glance sidelong, and finds Bunnykit's wide, watery eyes directed his way. "Um, it's just rain? You'll be okay for a few seconds," he responds, obtuse but not unkindly. Sedgepounce is simply oblivious to Bunnykit's anxiety because, well. A little rain wasn't going to hurt.

Already, though, other cats are slinking their way to covered burrows to hide from the storm, so the kittens probably should too. He shoots one forlorn glance into the nursery, but when no unburdened queen steps out to sweep Bunnykit from his tutelage, he takes in another breath and juts his chin to the wider expanse of camp. "They can't have gone far! Let's go grab 'em."
 
-ˋˏ ༻🥀༺ ˎˊ-


Marigold was undecided on her opinion of storms, she enjoyed the wind that blew, the refreshing rain that came in the warmer seasons. He always jumped at every crack of thunder and now she realised there would be no comfort of shelter like there was at Horseplace. The cream tabby considered seeking out her littermates, like she used to do. That seemed silly in hindsight, they’re old enough to look after themselves yet old habits are hard to break, she is a creature of routine.

As she sees cats meeting up then escaping to the safety of burrows she realises that the earlier assessment of there being no shelter was incorrect. It seems that there was still a lot to learn since joining, how to prepare for events like this being one of them. It appears that she wasn’t the only cat here thinking about family in time like this, he watches curiously as Bunnykit seeks assistance in Sedgepounce. He winces in sympathy at the reply the warrior gives to the seemingly scared kit, no ill intent in tone but the blunt delivery will land the same either way, at least he assumes so.

She decides to try and help any way that she can, trying to keep a casual gait as he approaches the pair “I can go look at the other side of camp for em’? Make it quicker, it will be easier to beat the storm that way” he likes to believe that’s a fine offer and hopefully it wouldn’t be seen as rude. “What’re their names love?” She doesn’t hang around the nursery often, doesn’t see a point in it. It doesn't help tsat his brain's still trying to wrap itself around all the different names and faces around camp, embarrassment seeps into her veins as she realises that some names have slipped through those gaps of the mind.
 
The stars were in Buck's favor today, it seemed. Why else would they commence a perfectly thrilling weather phenomenon after he had been discharged from the Badger Set? It was like they could read his mind, knowing that the tabby tom needed a pick-me-up after spending a tedious couple of weeks under medical care.

The brown tabby was just as keen to the oncoming storm as the others were, ears pricked attentively as he noted the gusts of wind howling over the moorland. Dark, looming bushels of clouds barrel over one another as they crawl steadily in the direction of WindClan's camp. Some cats may perceive the sight as a threat, at least to their nests and their pelts, while Buck was welcoming toward it. Any weather that differed from plain sunny skies was exciting in his eyes.

The concern that the WindClanners held for their clanmates in preparation for the approaching rains barely registers in Buck's brain as he eagerly glances toward them, "Anybody else feel like goin' out to meet it halfway?" The tom is only half-serious; he knows that these folk probably aren't as electrified by these events as he is. A typical cat certainly did not appreciate their coats being soaked and sopping wet. "I sure do love a good storm." He casts his amber gaze back toward the direction of the clouds longingly.

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    a new warrior of windclan, buck is thirty-one moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells of cotton grass and gorse. 
 
✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ It is strange to see Buck about their camp — part of him had hoped that the strange tom would simply leave once he had healed well enough for it. His injuries, then yellowcough. He had cost WindClan greatly in treatment, and Sunstar only grudgingly admits that it was worth the cost when it came to what he had offered in return. Now all that remains is a quiet, vindictive part of his mind. If he had taken so many of their herbs. . . it would be for the best that he paid them back in some way. A warrior's life was not easy, and while there was much to be found in a clan, the clan would take just as much in return. His eyes are not on the storm here, but Buck's profile with faintly squinted eyes. The wind ruffles his fur, and the warrior tears his eyes away.

Bunnykit's concern seems to grow as the storm comes closer, and he puffs a quiet laugh. Sedgepounce and Marigold both leap to protect the kit, even if it is reluctantly done. Sunstar's tail swishes through the moor grass. "There is nothing for you to fear in this one, I believe." He steps closer to the kitten and the horizon both, as if that small distance would give him greater clarity or understanding. The cool breeze batters his pelt instead, pulling another laugh from his maw. "The wind will not bite, at least not while we gather your littermates."
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    ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC.
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    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
    ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀
  • 82190121_9CSsSGfEk2LJ5dF.png
    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

    a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.