camp SWEETNESS, I WAS ONLY JOKING | snow

[newtpaw]

The heavy mood looms over the camp, so when she exits the apprentices den that morning to snow, wide, bright gaze eagerly driving her head from side to side, taking in the view. Snow! Her first leafbare, the sheer quantity of the stuff pulls her forwards. As Newtpaw sets her paws down the cold fully registers, an icy shock to the system. Her pink nose twitching from the bitter coolness she's hit with. The apprentice hops from paw to paw, eyes roundening. "It's so cold!"

It doesn't take her long to acclimate to the cold sensation, pushing it with her paws. It doesn't seem to be falling apart, bright eagerness shooting through her she shoves it forward, watches the sparkling white rain down. Going in for another hard push, she shoves it as if the effort can shove off the heavy mood that looms. What she isn't expecting is for it to rain down on someone, cringing, she offers a hurried: "Oops, I'm so sorry! That was an accident!"
​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Snow. It mocks them so. The heartache they went through, and now the coldest blanket settled heavy on them, on their shoulders, chasing their prey into the ground and driving them further towards it themselves. Scalejaw stepped out of the warriors den that morning, a hot exhale leaving her- her breath curled upwards in a huff of white.

As she stepped free of the warm den- which she finds herself regretting- ears flattened and head lowered as a shower of it fell upon her. Orange eyes snapped open, rounding on the apprentice that had been playing. Squinting through the fine mist that was still drifting down, her tense shoulders relaxed. Newtpaw was still akin to a kit- young brained, and inexperienced. "You should... be a bit more aware of where you're putting this stuff." Scalejaw offered.

Despite the heavy mood, a bit of an amused tone found her voice. "Is this your first leafbare then, Newtpaw?"

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

Leafbare. Green eyes look upon the camp dusted with pure white powder, freshly descended from the skies, the realization that this was his second leafbare hitting him like a heap of rocks. The magic of his first season in ShadowClan, he remembers, had been abruptly cut short by the untimely death of his father. Goose's blood had stained the snow that day, as had young Rooster's tears. It was impossible not to think of that dreadful memory each time leafbare made an appearance, but he found himself being able to move past it more quickly than he had before. Perhaps all of the drama lingering over ShadowClan was proving to be a distraction.

The red tabby tom pads forward, joining Scalejaw as she quickly recovered from a spray of snow. Roosterstrut could not help but offer an amused smirk, lifting his tail and aiming to flick off a bit of white from the dark warrior's pelt. "It's so pretty at first... before it becomes a problem." He doesn't mean to put a damper on Newtpaw's fun, but it won't be long before the apprentice realizes just how much of an inconvenience it became when trying to hunt and maneuver the territory. "So, enjoy it while you can." An orange paw reached down and scooped a pawful of snow before tossing it in Newtpaw's direction, aiming to land somewhere on her back. A cat's first snowfall was always exciting, especially when the perils of leafbare had not quite become a reality yet.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙧

• 

• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[smogstar]

A puffy pelt and icy disposition reduce snow to a rather straightforward obstacle. It is, after all, simply snow. Compact crystals cannot dissuade a warrior worth their merit. Smogmaw recalls employing broad shoulders to carve out pathways last Leaf-bare, a complex series of trails through camp connecting each den to the next. He'd refrain from revisiting that memory, until today, as rainfall had turned his diligent efforts into a sickly slush just a day afterwards. But, such is snow. Inherently unimportant, yet important enough to take up a tom's time.

Mild dispassion hangs from his shoulders alongside the icy flecks touching his whiskers, and the deputy creeps through the entrance to camp, shivering somewhat. Amid his aloofness (it's a terminal condition), he could at least seek amusement in how the pine branches gave way under the snow's weight. Drooping like an elder would.

Fresh off one of those 'patrol-for-one's that have occupied every morning since his return from the mountains, Smogmaw stands primed and ready to endure whatever mouse-dung the stars decide to fling his way.

Aside from their fresh blanket, the only developments to seize his attention is Newtpaw's discovery of the stuff, and a certain Roosterstrut giving her a fresh taste of it. In viewing the emerging snow-fight, his expression takes on a sullen undercurrent as he draws near.

"So long as it isn't yellow, it's fine," he huffs, tacking on to Scalejaw's gentle reprimand. This will be his kits' first Leaf-bare as well, and the conjured image soothes him somewhat, though not enough to be articulated. A haze lingers above him, dreary and burdened, cast from the mind, but triggered by the crumply matter at his paws.

His thoughts are consumed solely by her. How he'd pinned her two-toned shoulders down into freshly fallen powder to stake his victory. A snow-fight won, and a connection kindled. Such memories flood his gaze, as he stares off, unblinking, at the snow-capped trees lining camp's boundaries.

A somber sigh brings him back to the present, and he hunts for a new focus to fixate his mind upon. It comes quickly, fortunately enough; a casual advance shifts into a poised readiness, and he strives to shove Scalejaw into a particularly rich mound. ​

 

[Garlicheart]

This was the first time she had ever seen snow. Its cold and crunchy and fun to run around in. Which is what she's doing right now, prancing around and crunching loudly in the snow. This stuff is great!! She sees a few of her clanmates gathered and happily bounces over to them. Do they think snow is just as great as she does? She hopes so, because as soon as she sees the stuff being tossed and cats being shoved into it? She's happy to join in.

"Will there be more snow??" She asks, pawing at the snow in front of her until she has a little pile. She wonders how this stuff can be troublesome, but she's heard stories of it weighing down tree branches and breaking them. Thats crazy!

She has now created a lump of snow before her. This lump would be her projectile.... And Roosterstrut is her victim! She strikes the pile and sends a good bit of it flying at him with bright laughter.​

 

[newtpaw]

Snow hitting a target, she ducks her head. She can only be grateful, and a little disappointed she's spared the lecture. "Sorry!" She offers again, with a twitch of her unwieldly whiskers. Then, a question she's all too ready to answer. "Yes! There's so much to it I never knew! Just look at the.. Snow!"

A familiar sentiment is seemingly shared by Roosterstrut in towards the season, reminding her of Applepaw's negativity towards leaf-bare, the interrogation that she imparted. "So I've been told." She shares, with little elaboration.

Newtpaw is fully expecting a retaliation through words, which is why when snow is tossed at her by the warrior, she rolls onto her back, writhing in the snow and getting her fur wet. "I'm hit! I'm hit!" She cries dramatically, through the laughter she'll never repress. Seemingly unintentionally releasing chaos, seeing Smogmaw and Garlicpaw toss and throw the cold, white snow provokes her to back up Garlicpaw, a fellow apprentice, similarly attempting to launch snow at Roosterstrut too.
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