camp TERRIBLE STING AND TERRIBLE STORMS \ pacing

[FERNGILL]

Never, never before had Ferngill found it troublesome to get to sleep. It'd always just been easy. One of the few things that had ever been easy for him, in fact. Since that cave, though... since then, he'd started seeing darkness differently. As inherently terrifying. The moonlight was dimming after the night of the gathering, shrinking more and more into a sliver, and shielded from the moonlight within the den Ferngill could not shake his fear.

The moon was high in the sky- the night was old. He padded out of the warrior's den, fiery fur extinguished in the night. Being inside, in the dark, it felt wrong. It felt as if he should be afraid- afraid that the walls were going to come tumbling down upon him again. Dust would be kicked up into the air and it would snake its way into his lungs, and there were no Shadowclanners around to guide him anymore. Something terrible would happen in darkness- it was always in darkness.

Unable to shake the fear despite how desperately he wanted to, Ferngill paced and paced until he ended up at the water's edge. Stars speckled the water, and he was soothed by their mild light, but... not enough. Was he sick or something? Just- crammed in that den, in the darkness- unable to see and feeling something, the wall, pressing against his side- it had not been...

His thought died, and he met his own gaze in the river. He was a warrior now. This was not what warriors felt like.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[Moonbeam]

Sleep had been coming easily to Moonpaw, tired paws carefully making their way to her nest after a long day of training, of hunting, of whatever patrols she was sent on, but staying asleep is what gave her trouble now. It seemed as though any small thing that happened caused her to wake up whether it be a clanmate or a fish splashing in the nearby water. She was just about to get to sleep when she heard the footsteps of another and quietly she peeked out of the apprentice's den orange eyes scanning the camp for a moment as she tried to find the source of whatever noise she had heard before, and that's when her eyes landed on him.

"Ferngill?" She came close enough for the other to hear her quiet whisper of his name, head cocking to the side for a moment in question as she looked towards the water for a second before back at the new warrior. "You okay?" He was a warrior now, but it was so recent that they would have shared a den together as apprentices had he not gone on the journey, and he had never been one to be out like this as far as she had known.

☾₊ ⊹ give me a ghost of a smile

• 
  ⋆ ratkit - ratpaw - moonpaw - moon???
  ⋆ female - she/her - 7 moons
  ⋆ homosexual - not looking
  ⋆ apprentice of riverclan
  ⋆ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ⋆ attack - "speech" - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

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[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── One thing that Rookfang could do best was sympathize with those in hardships. He knew all too well, the bickering thoughts that rampaged within minds, the table placed only to be flipped over and conflict inflaming every scrap there was of consciousness within one's mind. He didn't bother at this point what a peaceful mind was, despite his desperate attempts to reach such enlightenment in the present. During night time, he felt more active and worthwhile of his energy, occasionally slipped away from the camp to head into the trees to see if there was any successful prey worth hunting or were tucked away for the night. With the hooked claws of winter beginning to scratch at their revolving world, Rookfang did not want to slip into the icy waters that wrapped around their home although perhaps it would provide a nice fresh splash of reality for him that he sorely needed for himself. The dark shadow of the warrior was hanging on a low branch of a nearby tree within the camp, spiked tail swaying lightly as he groomed himself underneath the shattered silver of the moon through the clinging leaves that had yet to fall. His salmon pink tongue dragged lazily against the scarred shoulder, a pathetic attempt to cover how large the scar was beginning to settle in. He was alone with his thoughts, enjoying the silence if sleep did not wish to overtake him as the night drifted along, it felt nice to be home after everything that had happened.

His silence seemed to be split in half by the voice of Moonpaw, the kind medicine cat apprentice who appeared to be speaking to someone. His velvety ears pricked and turned, his head following to lock intense gaze onto the two forms below his level. The newly named warrior Ferngill, seemed to be sinking into the river of his own thoughts while staring at the reflection of the river that ribboned their territory. Rookfang had not noticed that the youthful flame-colored tom was up and about, perhaps the exhaustion was beginning to overtake his senses. Maybe he would have gotten a decent sleep tonight for the time he had lost but it appeared it was not the case for his attention was needed. Rising to his paws against the warmth of the hardy branch that had been insulating the warmth from his body, the ebony brown-colored tom stretched his stiff legs before scrambling down to the ground. He winced, the frost was beginning to settle in against the ground and grass, tiny daggers of cold melting away against the contrast but enough to remind him that it would only grow colder.

Giving his pelt a gentle shake, the mixed-eyed figure strode in shortly behind Moonpaw, deciding to slip to the side that was left empty for company. He glanced down warily first to the coursing water, constantly moving and never halting for anything. He bitterly wished he had that sort of strengthing self-worth for himself when it came to recent events but Rookfang's eyes then dragged over to the plagued expression of Ferngill. He appreciated the ivory young apprentice for coming to check on the other, she was already showing the kindness needed for healing as Rookfang decided to join in the quiet conversation. "If there is something bothering you, you're free to tell us." His usually breathy and ghostly low voice was now weighted by carefully placed worry, attention focused on the returned clanmate. He had not been with the brave journey cats and even if told such adventures and challenges, would he ever be able to truly understand? He wasn't sure but it was worth a try.​

 

[hazecloud]

New habits had formed for the silky-furred molly since their return. Most were rather small changes, practically unnoticeable in the ways they effected her. Where once she found comfort alone in the open grassy plains, now she couldn't shake off the urge to always still vigilant in such open distances. Looking over her shoulder to check she was still safe, that flat wide paws weren't hauling down the meadows to come after her again.

Slept was still restful most nights but the tremors of those fearful seconds crept up on her. Waiting until she had let her guard down from the last until her sleeping form was clutched in the claws of icy dread. The presence beside her mate had grown cold as restless paws drove her out of the warriors den. Forcing her heart to slow as she desperately inhaled the cold air. Hazecloud found no use thrashing and shuffling in attempt to stay asleep when her mind clearly did not want to. Though her body loudly disagreed with tired, aching muscle greeting her every move she couldn't even get herself to stay still long enough before she felt the need to flee again.

"Do you hear them? The hounds?" The exhaustion hung heavy in her voice. Enough that she didn't quite sound like she was aware of everyone there, gaze fixed on fiery fur smothered by the night. ​

 

[FERNGILL]

He'd not meant to attract attention. To be a bother, in any way- had he woken anyone up? Guilt gripped with stinging claws to his soul, and Ferngill murmured, "Oh, sorry," as he looked over those who'd gathered- Rookfang, Moonpaw, Hazecloud padding toward him too. In truth, he wasn't sure what he was apologising for. Fear? Fear he shouldn't have? Because it was over, he was alive, and... there were no caves here...

When Rookfang and Moonpaw asked him what was wrong, he could only let out a breath, creaking and half-audible, as if there was a word stuck in his throat. Even Ferngill did not know what that word was, though.

Do you hear them? The hounds? A verdant eye settled solely on Hazecloud, then- empathetic and knowing. "Not them, for me." His voice sounded miserable all of a sudden. It didn't feel right, having sadness scraping through his tone. "I can't sleep, 'cos... I think my new nest's too close to the wall."

Was that stupid? High maintenance? It probably sounded like a stupid request to anyone who hadn't been in those caves, drowned in pitch-black. Pleading glimmered in the meadow hue of his eye as he looked at Hazecloud, a pleading that she might somehow understand. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[Feathergaze]

Feathergaze couldn't pretend she understood exactly what Ferngill meant about his nest being "too close to the wall," but thankfully she didn't need such an understanding. Awakened by his pacing, she'd followed the young tom to the river out of concern. At the note of misery in his voice, the silver warrior's heart bled for him. Poor Ferngill. He's finally a warrior, but something still eats away at him. Was it anxiety? Fear that he wasn't good enough?
"I'll help you move your nest, Ferngill," she offered, blinking soft pale eyes from where she stood. "My nest's not so close to the wall, I could switch places with you, if you like." And why not? The walls of the warrior den had never plagued the molly's mind as they clearly did Ferngill's.

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