camp the familiar sound; telling stories

[Chirping Bird]

NOTHING LIKE HOME​

---

Things were always tough during leaf-bare. The great cold brought many problems with it. Struggling to stay warm, stay fed, stay alive. Chirping Bird remembered some leaf-bares were easier than others. This one was one of the hardest in recent memories. With the lack of prey everywhere, a blizzard snowing them in, and now flooding. She was no stranger to change. But she knew some of her clanmates were having a hard time adjusting. The young ones that had never experienced something like this before. She wanted to do something to ease the tension.

The elderly cat felt her joints pop as she stretched from her spot. The cold did nothing but make her more stiff. She spots someone who seemed a little down. Moving towards them with the intention to press her large fluffy form against them. “Hi sweetheart.” she purrs, the elder had always treated everyone in camp like they were kin. Even if they got annoyed by it. “Care for a story or two? This old cat has nothing else to do.”

// grandma is back ​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

If he looked dejected it was because his face naturally fell into a frown without any effort, he often times scowled in thoughtful indifference, not really thinking of anything in particular but just musing in such a way he gave his facial expressions no attention and let them twist into whichever way they liked. He often wrinkled his nose when pondering something or another, frowned intently when his mind lingered on less savory things, but he was by no means in a bad mood. At least not right now, his mood had been surprisngly light lately despite his feelings regarding various things and various cats; he knew his place in the clan and was confidently content in it in a way he hadn't been since joining it so long before when the river was home to meandering loners and the colony that mostly resided in the marshland now. Smokethroat was not down, not at the moment, but the sudden shove did jostle him into a surprise flinch and he snapped back into focus, his musings on the slim pickings of the freshkill pile and his next lesson for his apprentice all but faded to the sudden disturbance.
"....sweetheart...?"
His lone eye wandered behind him, turned to regard the rest of the camp and the roaming cats only to find no one else there or close enough to be the one the elderly molly was referring to. Smokethroat turned back, incredulous, and raised a paw to gesture at himself in confusion to the calmly purred term of endearment he had never been referred to once in his life before. It was the sort of name you called a kitten, perhaps a younger apprentice, certainly not a full grown cat of his stature laced in scars and discheveled fur; lone piercing sun fire gaze locked intently on the she-cat.
"....story?" Again he looked behind himself, appalled and uncertain, did he look like a kitten who needed entertainment? If he told her to leave him alone would she refuse or berate him? Elders were hard to pinpoint.
"...I....sure?" He was not due for patrol until later and apparently every cat in the camp had left a moment ago so Chirping Bird had no one else to bother. With a sigh of resignation he accepted his fate.
​

 

[FERNGILL]

Smokethroat would not be left to fend for himself for very long, thankfully- though perhaps the company of an over-eager apprentice would be even more grating. Fernpaw was completely unawares, hearing the suggestion of a story and bounding toward the sound as soon as the suggestion broke the threshold between throat and ear. Grin upon his tiny face, disproportionate paws bounded over, thrill in his step. To think, Chirping Bird had lived more seasons than he could even imagine! What stories did she have crammed into that mind of hers? How many- he'd bet it was countless!

Eager for a distraction from the low mood of leaf-bare, something he had always tried to stay positive in the face of, the tiny tom poked his head out from behind the shadowy lead warrior. Eyes bright, he interjected before the story could hope to begin. "OH, can I- can I listen too?" mumbled question, it was accompanies with a strange-looking grin- though, most expressions looked strange upon such unsightly features. ​

( penned by pin )​

 

[Chirping Bird]

NOTHING LIKE HOME​

---

Everyone here was her sweetheart. She was a cat that treated everyone like they were her younger kin or kits. This was her family. Her home. Chirping Bird was loyal through and through. She would cling onto this family till the stars called for her. So, it didn’t matter to her if you were a full grown scarred cat or a newborn kitten. To her, you were a Riverclanner. Family.

“No need to be nervous dear. I won’t bite.” the elder chuckled at Smokethroat’s confused look. It had been some time since she hung out with any warrior. Most of her days were spent being fed by them. It was only fair she traded a story or two. Her amber eyes land on the eager apprentice. She loved how the younger cats always seemed to be a fan of her stories. “Of course ya can. Anyone is welcome to listen in.”

She isn’t fully leaning against Smokethroat anymore. But she stays close by in case the warrior decides to lean against her. She doubts that he will but the fluffy she-cat was always open to being a portable sunrock (heater). “Let’s see… hmmm… enough of this cold weather. I’ll tell ya about a new-leaf many, many moons ago. Back when I was… let’s see- well, back when I was about ya'r age Fernpaw.” the elder closes her eyes, enjoying the memory like it was sunlight on her face. “Oh yes, the air was warm and the river was full of fat fish.”

Chirping Bird begins to tell the story. It’s rather entertaining, though she sometimes goes off topic. Clearly enjoying socializing. “And then, my brother, Sleeping Rabbit, was slapped by the giant fish we managed to catch! The poor thing was knocked right into the river.” she laughed loudly. Remembering her brother rather fondly. ​