wc rebels the children on the block } bedding

[RATTLEHEART]

Gathering moss. Collecting bedding. Those were things that he could handle right now, even in his injured state. He wasn't nearly as bad off as some among their little group - most notably Rivepaw - but his side was still eager to remind him of the wounds that he had suffered. Hunting wasn't an option for the moment, and gathering herbs when he knew absolutely nothing about them didn't seem like the best idea. He didn't want to be a burden on Wolfsong, especially when others had already volunteered. So instead he had settled on this task, standing near the entrance of the barn with a flat expression on his face. The thought of leading anything akin to a patrol outside of the tunnels was odd, but it wasn't as if there were any tunnels to go hunting down today. "Who wants to go with me to gather moss and other bedding supplies? More paws are sure to make it go faster." Hopefully they'd be able to gather enough to make their new - temporary - home comfortable for everyone, considering the cold hard ground didn't make for a good place to sleep. The hay scattered all around was also always an option, but just the thought of sleeping on any of the piles sent a shiver through Rattleheart, phantom itching gripping him.

He'd offer anyone who approached to help a warm smile, one that was only slightly forced. He was genuinely happy to see anyone that had ended up as part of their exiled group, trusting them more than ever after they had all turned their backs on Sootstar. However, there was a heaviness to everything in him now - a tiredness he wouldn't be able to shake until they were back on the moors. "We'll want moss primarily, but I'm sure we might be able to gather some feathers from all the chickens around here. Some of them usually just fall off after a while. Scorchstreak said we should be able to find wool around here somewhere too, although I don't want anybody messing with the sheep around here. Please." He couldn't help but think back to Goldenstrike and his ill-fated sheep hunting escapades. The warrior had thankfully - hopefully - grown out of ideas like that, but Rattleheart didn't want anyone else trying to tear wool from the poor sheep themselves.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchpaw loves her uncle, and it hurts her to see the wound he's suffered, hurts her to know that she has none of her own to show for her cowardice. Could it be called cowardice? She had fled the viper's nest because she was smart, not spineless, but the girl has to wonder if she should have done more to fight in earnest. Maybe then she would at least stand out a bit less. But if she cannot bear a wound for her clanmates, then the least she can do is assist them with their chores — so when Rattleheart asks for volunteers, Scorchpaw is quick to appear.

"I'll go," she affirms, quiet, after bumping her head lightly against his good shoulder. The scar on her face (old now, she is keenly aware) is pins and needles in the cold. "Do you think we should bring a chicken back?" she asks aloud. She feels fit enough to hunt one, anyway, and it would surely be a good meal for the lot of the injured — but collecting bedding alone would be a good enough task to complete. Scorchpaw's tail flicks as she waits for more members of their meager patrol, dual-toned gaze heavy with guilt and love.

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐆𝐄 ✧ 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by ska-i
  — penned by meghan

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[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ Foxglare couldn't shake the restlessness from his paws. He who stood with a gargoylesque stillness more often than not found himself unwittingly digging his claws into the hay-dusted floor. His thoughts lingered on those left within the pit of vipers they fled from, those who shed their consciences to sit at the feet of the poison-hearted Queen, and those who were trapped amongst them. Sedgepounce had not yet arrived, and he could only hope that he remained unharmed, laying low as they both had done within the ranks of Sootstar's dogs. He had half a mind to go and find him himself, but rationality stilled him. No use in risking both of their tails over an impulse when Sedgepounce was both intelligent and capable enough to keep himself safe. But still...

Rattlehearts call brought him to the present. Right, there was plenty to be done here and now. The large young warrior rose to his paws, ignoring the soreness of his own bitten-up shoulder, to join the two gathered, "I'll come too, if you'll have me." Foxglare considered Scorchpaw's suggestion with a nod, "'ve never hunted chickens before, do they make good prey?" 'Course, the decision rested with Rattleheart, as he'd never really had much experience with the beasts himself.

ALL IN ALL ⁀➷☾⁺₊ IS ALL WE ARE

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 12mo moor-runner of windclan
  — a large, scarred light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — hs by mercurial, fullbody by antiigone
  — penned by eezy

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[RATTLEHEART]

It wasn't long before Scorchpaw and Foxglare appeared, offers of help slipping easily off of their tongues. Rattleheart smiled broadly at them both, a welcoming expression that only faltered slightly from a sting of pain rushing up his side. His ears flicked back momentarily, head turning to touch his muzzle lightly to Scorchpaw's forehead. An affectionate gesture towards his niece, meant to reassure her that he was alright. The pain would fade with time, and at least he would always have a reminder of the way he had fought for a true Windclan. Not to mention a permanent memory of the shock on Harbingermoon's face.

The pair both mentioned chickens, and a thoughtful look gleamed in his eyes. He had no doubt one of the chickens would represent good meat for their ragtag group - once they got through the feathers, anyways - but was that a good idea? He really wasn't sure, glaring warily of where he had last seen the birds pecking around. "Hm... I'm not sure. The twolegs probably wouldn't notice if we took just one? But they are kinda big, and I'm not sure I'll be of much help with a hunt at the moment." His tail brushed lightly against his wound, as if either would somehow miss what he was referring to. "There's no harm in trying though, I guess. Can't go as badly as trying to take down any of the sheep." He wasn't keen on risking the health of anyone in the barn, but prey would gradually become harder and harder to come by as time went on. Not to mention a downed chicken would represent both a large piece of prey and bedding supplies for all of them, though his mind couldn't help but linger on the talons he'd seen on their feet.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[Bluepool]

"No." she says suddenly, forcefully, the word escaping past her lips before she even has time to really think why she had said it. Her eyes linger on each cat present, Rattleheart, Scorchpaw, Foxglare, but they linger the most on the black and white warrior. He was old enough to remember, he should know why that was the most hare-brained idea they had ever heard. "Rattleheart, do you not remember what happened to Sootstar? Why we don't hunt chickens?" she asks, her tone critical but not scolding. "No." she repeats, shaking her head solemnly. "I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous. We will not be hunting any chickens while we stay here and that is an order unless Sunstride says otherwise." they would be fine living off of the barn mice like the other cats. Visions of claws ripping through skin flash in her mind alongside the loud boom of the firestick that two-leg had wielded, the same one that had torn through her sister like it was nothing. Sootstar had been lucky to have multiple to spare but a regular cat would not have found it so easy to wake up, to walk away. No, she could not in good faith allow anyone to hunt chickens with the knowledge of how hazardous it was in the back of her mind. "We need everyone to be in fighting condition if we are to take back our home. Let us not take unnecessary risks" she adds finally.

"The sheep will be okay as long as we go while the dogs are away eating and as long as you're careful. I will go and gather some wool. Anyone who wishes to is free to accompany me" the sheep could be dangerous, yes, but only if you did not show them the respect they were due and Bluepool knew her way around this place. Out of all the things to fear, the sheep were not something she would waste time on.

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