sweet and meaningless [ intro ]


circle of dreams
Jul 8, 2022

The sun has just begun to creep above the horizon, painting the dawn sky in pale oranges and yellows. Dipping into a bow, silk-furred tail curled over her back, Tree stretches outward until she hears the familiar click of her spine. The tabby straightens then, rolling her shoulders as she settles to her haunches. It’s oddly serene, despite the marshy landscape, despite the fighting that left far too many cats dead or injured. For a brief moment Tree wonders if they’re allowed to feel this calm after all that’s happened—but they remind themself that feeling guilty cannot change what has already been done.

A shuffle of movement nearby catches their eye, and Tree turns a bright hazel gaze upon the cat who’s come across her. She doesn’t recognize many of her groupmates by name, but none have shown distaste for her, so she offers a dip of her head. "Morning," they grunt, ears tilting forward in greeting as they stand up once again. The good portion is left out on purpose, because has anything been truly good after the past few sunsets? "The sky is most beautiful at this time of day, don’t you agree?"
( ) he hasn't truly slept since that day. each time he closes his eyes, flashes of crimson paint his nightmares, claws as sharp as thorns and teeth bared in vicious anger as they rip and tear through his consciousness. so for most nights, he'll simply sit and doze. it seems his eyes are nearly always bloodshot now, vision blurry from lack of rest, but spring is awake at dawn like usual, putting on his mask to hide the exhaustion that threatens to overwhelm him. the young man pauses in his pacing at the sound of paws shuffling, and he glances around the clearing, recognizing a fellow groupmate. they offer a greeting and he'll nod in return, offering a small smile. "mhm."

like tree, spring has been pondering the best way to handle his emotions. sometimes, when he's sitting with his sister, or watching the stars, he feels content enough to relax. it only lasts just a moment before guilt rushes in. for the past quarter moon, any sign of joy within camp seems to have been smothered by the knowledge of death. he wonders what right he has, to enjoy time when so many others have none left. so, the feline's words are a small shock to his system. noting the sky, a wash of gold and flame, spring will nod. "it is," he agrees, sliding his lip between his teeth in an unconscious motion. "like an invitation to wake up and see the world." ears flatten as he mentally repeats back what he's spoken. how absolutely awful, those words. cringing inwardly, the boy forces his eyes to scan the horizon once more. he's said it, so he'll stick to it.

"Good Morning, you two!" The warm voice of Fire would melt into the early morning air, the fiery somali trotting over to the duo with her usual humble smile on her maw. It wasn't that the death and losses as of late were lost on her. On the contrary, the grief that Fire carried with her every day was thick enough to cut with one's claws. However, she hated how sad and dreary her home had become in the aftermath. Yes, war was horrible, but she was determined to be at least one warm and comforting face that her groupmates would see to remind them that not all things were sad and horrible.

Fire had heard Tree's statement about the sky, and as she took a seat beside Spring she would rumble with a content purr and nod in agreement, "Is this your favorite time of day? It's pretty and warm this time of the season." She would close her eyes as the morning sunshine began to warm her face and her tail would move lazily behind her as she basked in it.


The boy who settles beside Tree seems shy. Or rather—perhaps not shy, but noticeably withdrawn. Tree resists the urge to pry as he utters a friendly enough greeting, one that’s a bit halfhearted but not worth dwelling on. She doesn’t know his name, and before she can ask, the young feline is agreeing with her statement. "That is a nice way of putting it. An invitation, indeed." Tree nods, tipping their head back to cast their gaze back to the sky. Waking up and seeing the world. A phrase that would make her wince, were she anyone else. But the phrase, the reminder that some cats don’t get to wake up today, or ever, after the battle, slides right off of her. "But we should be glad to accept that invitation," they add quickly, an afterthought, that they should all be thankful to be alive.

A second feline announces herself with far more cheery a presence than the charcoal twig of a cat, and Tree releases a short chuckle. Someone has to be the one to remain positive around here, right? Tree offers up their brightest smile in return, ears twitching as Fire continues with a question. "Good grief, no. It’s truly far too early to be awake," they respond with a firm shake of their head, bright eyes crinkling as she speaks. Who would willingly drag themself from their comfortable nests at this time of day? They allow a corner of their mouth to tug downward into a half-frown, casting a curious gaze across the two younger cats. "Why are either of you awake so early, anyhow?"

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    ── Roseal doesn't want to be awake, but he doesn't have much of a choice; since he'd walked back to the marsh in a daze, freshly scrubbed pelt collecting mud and twigs, his mind has been too restless for dreaming. He's half-heartedly cleaned himself, trying to keep up the appearance of someone with his shit together, but he doesn't know how successful he is on that front. It wasn't his first struggle, yet he can't explain his own reaction to the turmoil he'd prepared for. He still doesn't remember everything, is still eyeing the gaps in a trampled spiderweb and attempting to discern which tendril leads where.

    And now here he is with several morning people who seem to find it easy ascribing meaning to something as rote as the sun (well, one at least admits this is an unholy time of day). He'll keep his distaste for the waxing poetic to himself; kid's still a kid, after all. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's got something to do with a certain battle charge into the forest," he says dryly. "Or maybe it's just yesterday's frog."

  • n/a​
  • ──── surr'oseal'isme (roseal). he/him pronouns. roamer; goes where he pleases.
    ──── approximately thirty-eight months old; not entirely certain of his own age.
    ──── single & uninterested in any romantic attachments; possibly open for flings.
    ──── very tall, scarred albino with sharply-peaked ears and a bobbed, scruffy tail.​

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Rising early for the day used to be a pleasant pass time for her. Yet now after so much she'd rather keep her solitude than ride to greet the day. It's preposterous how all these events have changed her and she does not enjoy the idea. Yet coming into camp with a snake dangling from her jaws she pauses as she stares at those that have risen from their nests. Her nose is full of the scent of snake so she can not smell anything else and she frowns slightly. Why is everyone up so early now? She takes a step forth and listens to them talk about the morning before she settles herself and drops the piece of prey against mud stained white limbs. There isn't much she wants to add to their conversation and she keeps her quiet as they conversate with Tree about the early hours if tbe morning.

As Tree spoke her actual dislike for being up so early, Fire couldn't help the laugh that rumbled from her chest, though her expression was one of understanding. Soon they were joined by Roseal and Bone and she would give them both humble smiles before shaking her head to the white pelted toms' guesses. "I'm usually up this early. The hunting is good since it's not super humid yet."

She tilts her head and continues, "Why are you two awake? I see Bone has had some good luck with hunting! That's a great catch!"