camp THE FUNERALS | OPEN

[DUSKBIRD]

↟↟ᨒ   Empty-eyed, Duskbird drops off a bird to the dwindling pile of prey. Leafbare progresses in a steady march, and time makes it obvious that this was not the season for healing wounds. His body is in as good a shape as any's could be during this season (slimmer than usual, perhaps, yet unwounded) but his mind — his mind — that is a shattered wreck. Exhaustion pools beneath dark eyes. He's spent each night curled tight into his nest near Skyclaw's, and each day on silent patrols. Speaking when spoken to is easier now than it had been even during his time as an apprentice; he doesn't know who precisely he could say it to. This never happened.

Howlingstar said that nobody knew. How could he trust that now? Could he trust anything their leader had said? That thought alone is worth a stab of guilt so cold it makes his chest seize. She's his leader. Of course he can trust her. (Only so far as that. A leader. His leader.) What if the rest of his family knew the truth? What if his older siblings knew? Had she told them? Had Blazestar?

A snow-crusted paw lifts to sweep the weight from his eyes and wakes him up some as it goes. To the cats gathered around the prey pile as the sun dips lower, he mutters, "I miss greenleaf," as if that would explain away his heavy mood. It's not a lie. He misses being a young apprentice delving into the forest without a care in the world. He misses the rigidity of his schedule with Nightbird, and the exhaustion of his body after a long day learning. Now he's hardened to the world and there are no better days ahead of him for many, many moons. He sweeps up a vole from the pile and settles with the crowd to eat.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓  ╱╱ —𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 〚 01.06.2023 〛 ————————

• OOC. —
• 
  BLAZESTAR x LITTLE WOLF, " ORPHAN " LITTERMATE TO SKYCLAW; HALF SIBLING TO BURNSTORM, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYPAW, MORNINGPAW. MENTORED BY NIGHTBIRD. NEWFOUND THUNDERCLAN WARRIOR.
  ——— recently discovered his father's identity and is withdrawing into himself. seems distant and troubled, going about his duties absently as if sleepwalking his routine. seems mechanical around his family in particular, or anyone that he suspects knew the truth of his parentage. his ambitions have died quietly.
  
  TOYHOUSE ╱╱ AN ATHLETIC, LANKY CHOCOLATE TORBIE WITH DEEP AMBER EYES.
•  

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[Flamestar]

Duskbird and Skyclaw's father had never been revealed as far as she knew. Little Wolf had been her nursery denmate while she was expecting Stormfeather and Falconheart. Their kits had grown up with each other, fueled by the fascinating stories of the great clans told by the now star speckled warrior. She thought about Little Wolf often, praying that she had been found by Starclan, and was now watching over the clan with Morningpaw reunited at her side.

A familiar chocolate torbie joins the crowd she was sitting amongst, and she finds herself shifting her attention towards him. Here lately, Duskbird had seemed rather distant. She wasn't sure what had caused it, but she didn't want to pry. He and Skyclaw were no longer a small bundles of fluff toddling around Little Wolf's paws...and neither are Falconheart or Stormfeather... She wished he would talk to her, maybe tell her what was going on, but she wouldn't ask him here, not with a crowd. He claimed to be missing green leaf, and she nodded along at his words. Once she finished chewing a bite from her small mouse she spoke was well. "I miss it as well. There's no better feeling than returning from a hunting patrol with lots of prey." ​

★ don't need to save me

• ​
• 
  FLAMEWHISKER of THUNDERCLAN
  LH red tabby with low white (masks black tabby, carries dilute, solid)
  — Lead Warrior of Thunderclan ; currently mentoring Acornpaw
  — she/her ; mated with Flycatcher
  — mother to Stormfeather & Falconheart
  — 28 moons ; ages on the 20th
  — Smells like dirt, old leaves, tree sap, faint hint of flowers
  — will start a fight, will finish fights, will kill (case depending)
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by Icey ! ; link to tags
  — link to toyhouse​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Like Flamewhisker, Raccoonstripe had noticed his nephews’ deteriorated mood. Kits of newleaf, greenleaf, and leaf-fall experiencing their first cold season would no doubt find it hard to remain cheerful in the face of no prey and snow, but could that explain away Duskbird and Skyclaw’s heaviness? The tabby comes to join his co-lead warrior and his kin, a scrawny mouse dangling from his jaws. He settles beside them and takes a stingy bite from its belly. The meat is tough and cold, tasting of the frost that has collected on its body. It’s a meager and unpleasant meal, but he’s thankful for it all the same. “Behold, the fruits of leafbare,” he sighs, taking another tiny bite before flicking his eyes toward Flamewhisker and Duskbird.

“I miss greenleaf too, but it will come again soon. Besides, if wishes were fishes, RiverClan cats would be even fatter.” He grins at his joke, tail swishing in the snow behind him. “Chin up, Duskbird. The snow will start melting and the birds will start chirping before you know it.” He’s hardly an optimist, but even he can barely stomach the bellyaching of younger cats.

, ”​

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[BERRYHEART]

A fact as equally cold as the season was that leafbare was difficult. It was nowhere near as lovely in colour as leaffall, not as abundant in blooms as newleaf, not as warm and bountiful as greenleaf. Every day was edged with harshness and apprehension, and Berryheart could only alleviate the physical aches, rather then the heaviness of the soul.

Kindles' low mood did not go ignored, and Berryheart felt a pull toward his nephew- he was not far from Stripes' side as he padded toward the younger tom, askew eyes soft. Still, he could not believe that he and his sibling were warriors now. Knowing Shady was watching over them soothed his soul greatly, and he hoped that knowledge comforted them too- but, one's mother residing in the afterlife likely did nothing to ease the ails of the cold season. "The sun returns kinder as ever, in two moons or so." He dipped his head in agreement with his brother. It was not long yet- and he dreamed of those lounging months, when his breaths would be long again.​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[braveheart : ̗̀➛]

☀ . ° ✦ Bravepaw still bore the pudginess of comfort and luxury that the nursery gave him and his siblings. With no kittens to replace him as first in line to feed, meals still circulated as usual with him always sharing something with one of his littermates. (He couldn't possibly eat alone, he would be too bored!) His apprenticeship was far too young to have yet grasped the concept of hunger in such a way that it could claw and bubble at his stomach, unaware that the complaints from his Clanmates fear of starving could come true.

"What's it smell like?" A child born of harvest, the concept of greenleaf was rather poor with his own imagination to remedy the sight. He's told its green, in its name, clear skies of blue and blazing sunlight. It's hot, enough that he might feel like a puddle under his pelt. He thought of what that might look like, his paws turning into mud and sinking into the earth, nothing but his pelt left behind.

"Leaf-fall smells like... sap. And dirt. Leafbare kind of smells like um..." He wanted to say snow, and ice but that didn't sound right. "Cold. Smells like cold."

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  BRAVEPAW — HE/HIM ･ 4 MOONS ･ THUNDERCLAN & APPRENTICE ･ PENNED BY beatae!

  A Longhaired chocolate tabby/blue tabby chimera with deep blue eyes. Very thick coat that has started to develop curls. Paws that seem too big for his little body. Gradually growing into his ears.

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[DUSKBIRD]

↟↟ᨒ   Despite his desperate clinging to sullenness, Duskbird cannot help his short, absurd laugh. "I've never wanted to eat a fish so badly before," he explains between the brittle trilling of unwelcome mirth. The last leafbare he had experienced had been with the privilege of youth. They had been so well fed, and the season had come to its end quickly. He remembered almost nothing of it. Now he has to live through all of this. The cold, the hunger, his family falling apart — though perhaps he is the only one that sees them that way. Now that two of them stand so near, with a third that had a small paw in raising him in the nursery, he feels hysterically guilty for the very thought. If they didn't know, how could he hold that against him? And if they did, they hadn't held it against him. His chest has tied itself in knots.

Though the young apprentice is still well-fed, it seems, the day is winding down and the rest have eaten. "Do you want to share it?" he offers absently, twitching his tail to Bravepaw. "It smells like...something new." A pitiful explanation. "Like sunshine, and new leaves, and...kind of like fresh moss, when you clean your nest. Right?" Duskbird glances to the others for confirmation on his description.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓  ╱╱ —𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 〚 01.06.2023 〛 ————————

• OOC. —
• 
  BLAZESTAR x LITTLE WOLF, " ORPHAN " LITTERMATE TO SKYCLAW; HALF SIBLING TO BURNSTORM, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYPAW, MORNINGPAW. MENTORED BY NIGHTBIRD. NEWFOUND THUNDERCLAN WARRIOR.
  ——— recently discovered his father's identity and is withdrawing into himself. seems distant and troubled, going about his duties absently as if sleepwalking his routine. seems mechanical around his family in particular, or anyone that he suspects knew the truth of his parentage. his ambitions have died quietly.
  
  TOYHOUSE ╱╱ AN ATHLETIC, LANKY CHOCOLATE TORBIE WITH DEEP AMBER EYES.
•  

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe acknowledges his littermates’ presence with the flick of a tufted ear, his solemn wisdom a quiet agreement. Leafbare’s teeth had sunk into some of their Clanmates’ souls as well as their bodies, but as the older cats knew, the seasons cycled, and soon the frost would melt away from their forest and reveal the beauty and generosity it had previously gifted them. The tabby’s dark eyes flick from his nephew and Flamewhisker toward Bravepaw, still kitten-round and soft-pawed despite the hardships of the season. He approaches with wonder, with questions abstract and flighty. “Leaf-fall smells like… sap. And dirt. Leafbare kind of smells like um… cold. Smells like cold.”

He muses for a moment. “It does,” he agrees. To him, it smells like hunger, like bodies thinned and fur tipped with snow, of empty nests made warm by a new mate’s luscious scent. His whiskers quiver as Duskbird answers Bravepaw, a little more optimism shining in his amber gaze. “It smells like all of that, yes, and… warm rain. Fresh blossoms. The prey starts to come back out of their holes, and our trees start to get green leaves.” He curls his tail around his body, and for a moment, he almost imagines he can feel warmth in the air... wishful thinking, of course. All the daydreaming is getting to his head, he thinks with an amused smile.

, ”​

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