camp THE MOON WILL SING / pebble skipping

[BEEFANG]

( ) In only a few days would she become three moons old and whenever her father held the meeting, she'd be apprenticed. The river princess knows how long she has waited for the day but the thought is still daunting and she can't help but just be a bit concerned over a few things. The change of it all, the fact she would potentially have these expectations on her shoulders and responsibilities, making sure not to make a fool of herself, making her parents proud, and honoring her clan. She would not sleep within the willow den shared with her family but with new denmates, Sablepaw and the rest of the other apprentices. She's excited but nervous all at once. There was so much to becoming a warrior yet her mind can't help but wander to Ravensong, her bicolored gaze turning in the direction of his den and imagining all the recently sick cats within camp. She can't imagine how much more work it is for him and how much training he had to go through before getting to where he was at, not to mention, he did it all by himself. She couldn't help but admire that about him even if he did call her smelly that one time.

She's kicking at pebbles before watching one of them fall into the river with a quiet plip and her ears perk up, Beekit glances around her to see if anyone was around and saw the usual bustle of warriors but chose not to say anything as she began to gather pebbles until she had a tiny pile next to her. Maybe she could see how far it goes, it shouldn't be as hard as moss ball and well, she has a small collection of those at home. She wishes she had taken Cicadakit out with her but Beekit knows better than to rush him out and prod him, he would join her later if he wishes at his own time and pace. This she knows. Focusing on her little task, Beekit brings forth one of the pebbles with her snowy paw and pulls it back before swatting it forward. It skipped a few times before diving into the water with another loud plip and she can't help but smile at how far it had went.

/rolled a 13 ​

( KILL EM WITH THE MOJO ; CINEMATIC SLO-MO )

 

[DIPPERFROST]

Dipperpaw did not know how to act around kits. How was she supposed to talk to them? Like she would speak to any other cat? Or wa she supposed to be nicer, more delicate? She is not sure if she can force herself to be something she is not. A liar. It was like trying to force a fish to be a bird. It was especially worse for the kits of the leader and the deputy. They made her insanely nervous. One wrong move and she can see in her mind Smokethroat and Cicadastar looming over her, ready to send her to the abyss.

Still, whatever Beekit was doing has caught her attention and she manages to cast her reservations aside long enough to draw closer to the she-kit, her strange eyes focused on the pebble as it sails across the water. "Is it okay if I try?" she asks and once she has been given permission she would pick a pebble up in her paws, tumble it over a couple of times. The smooth cool surface felt good on her paws.

After a long moment she throws the rock across the surface of the river. It lands with a plunk and, to her dismay, doesn't skip at all. "Oh" she says, trying to hide her disappointment. "I suppose I'm not very good at this"

// rolled a 4
​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

He's not far. He's never really far from his kits in one way or another. They couldn't leave the camp so they were more often than not within his single orange gaze at all times and when they did vanish it was within dens, through nearby reeds, pestering someone or another. Ravensong was often swarmed by them due to their curiousity on the healer's duty and den but thankfully they left him be now with the sickness still moving through their waters like polluting filth.
The shadow of a tom yawns, forelimbs stretching out from his perch on a smooth stone just behind where Beekit was circling about the shore and kicking stones and he watches in amusement as she makes an effort to skip it as he had often seen the apprentices and kits do before in their play. He rises to stand, back arched and tail curling into a loop at his spine before lashing behind him as he steps down from his seat to join her as another apprentice does.

"I don't remember the last time I did this." Smokethroat muses, padding up behind Dipperpaw and watching her stone plop noisily into the river without much skipping, "...but its not about force, its the angle. You want it to not go too high..." He raises a paw, white dipped and toes splayed experimentally before glancing down for a stone and, upon spotting one properly aligned with the water, gives it a swift swat that sends it skipping several tail lengths along the surface; water rippling and droplets trailing behind it with each leap before it lands itself near the opposite edge but not quite hitting the shore. An amused hum escaped him, not bad for having not done this since a young fool still learning how to act around the waters edge.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
[Ooc]
Rolled an 18
​

 

[CHICORYPAW]

(๑✪ᆺ✪๑) — chicorypaw is drawn in by the quiet, yet notable sounds of stones skipping across water and soon crops up besides the deputy just as he swats a smooth pebble of his own, watching with amazement as it soars an impressive distance across the river's surface before disappearing beneath rippling rings. "woah, that was so cool! it skipped like. . . 20 times atleast!" she exclaims, now feeling quite eager to try and skip one herself.

a cream and blue paw reaches out to hastily sweep one of the stones over and places it in a spot she believes to be a good spot before squinting a little trying to mimic what smokethroat had done except when it comes time for her to swat the rock she puts a little too much oomph, in her swing, missing the rock completely and with the misplaced force chicorypaw ends up lurching forwards instead and topples face first into the ground.

ouch.

// rolled a nat 1 Σ(°△°|||) ​

 

[CICADASTAR]

its from his perch that he witnesses it ; slitted blue eyes and a lazily flicking tail hanging low over sun - warmed stone.. his favorite spot in camp, these days. from here he watches them, stone after skittering stone, pretends as though he doesn’t feel each potential for freshkill flitting away from each rock they throw into precariously low waters. his tail lashes once, but his daughter stands at the forefront, and well — perhaps his mate had been right about favoritism, now stretching further than only him. the man stands, makes his descent, feels himself just short of stumbling upon impact and.. his limbs feel heavy today, he thinks. exhaustion, likely — he would power through, star - veined and caged inside. what could a sickness do to his body, immortal he? it’s with a high - held head and pawsteps too evenly placed : practiced.

fix yourself, he remembers with a vague sort of discomfort that keeps his posture straight, shoulders back and curled chest out. a shadow behind smokethroat, an eel - like coming forth just in time to watch him toss his own stone into the rippling waters. his ear twitches, but he only turns his eyes, flits down to the wide - eyed girl and allows a smile to cross his marred maw ; warm like the sun despite a douse of squinting, chilling blue just over his sloped muzzle, " good job, little bug. " the tom rumbles, lowering his neck almost comically far to give her his now - common nudge of affection — one day she would grow too old for this, he knows. she would grow too old for his nosing, too old to be unaware of the fact that he does not say her name ; it stilts on his tongue, something cursed and rotten.

the earth had given way for a reason.

despite moonlit horrors still melding into his eyelids, his head swivels to observe chicorypaw’s enthusiastic approach — she, like his little girl, was an exuberant personality. and she, like his little girl, he watches snag a stone from the small pile aside them to toss. she, unlike his daughter, seemed not to know just when to let her rock loose. an immediate face plant into the waterlogged and pebble ground. and perhaps it’s his newfound fatherhood, circling and heron - like, that he is back on his paws in a moment to ensure the apprentices muzzle was not be bloody when she lifts, ” chicorypaw! are you alright — let me see your muzzle. “ thankfully, she would be left with some teeth after such a fall. anything to keep ravensong from camp, -and youth away from the sick.

COLD & CRUEL LIKE WINDS ON THE SEA  ╱ INFORMATION ✟

• i.
  
• ★ ⋆ CICADASTAR −−−− FOUNDING LEADER OF RIVERCLAN. HOMOSEXUAL, MATED TO SMOKETHROAT. FIFTY MOONS, FATHER TO STARLIGHTKIT, CICADAKIT && BEEKIT. PENNED BY ANTLERS −−−−− ⁺₊✧
  
  
  he / him. tall, elegantly curled smoke tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt blue eyes. his structure sings a feral sort of hymnal, presenting an almost dangerous sort of beauty veiling what monstrosities lie beneath the ivory of his skull. jutting jawline and a squared chin, sunken cheeks drawing a shadow beneath high, sharp cheekbones with tall, angular ears settling high atop the flatter slope of his cranium. he is beautiful ; lucifer in the eyes of an envious god. for all his looks, his expression is lax, void — corpse - eyed and hollow until spoken to, sparking the undead to life. he is tall, lean, cut - glass pretty ; he smiles with too - many teeth, blackened frostbite pulling back his maw to bear canines setn beneath curling whiskers, pantomime skeletal. a predatory gracefulness from the lines that press the image of exhaustion beneath ice water hues to the slow, sure gait in which he walks, nameless strength poorly concealed within the hard lines of his physique. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unnaturally tall amongst his peers, always holding himself with a tragic sort of grace ; poised, prim, and uncannily aware of how he appears.
  
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── smells like wet moss and meadowland thunderstorms.
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── notoriously paranoid and closed off, cicadastar will tend to lie, assume, and jump to conclusions whenever it suits him. any 'suspicious' ic actions he witnesses or hears about will have a strong effect, and will have ic consequences! if you're unsure of an interactions outcome, please feel free to send a dm!
  
  no character opinions represent my own.​
  
  
• " speech "​
  
  
  

​

 

[salmonshade]

Salmon feels a little awkward lingering around camp, but she and Ratpaw had just returned from a patrol and the next one would not be leaving for a while. She's about to dismiss her apprentice until she catches sight of the deputys daughter and Dipperpaw trying to skip rocks. They're joined by Smokethroat himself, Chicorypaw and Cicadastar- the middle of them having faceplanted right in to the ground. Her tail flicks in slight disproval, watching as their leader graciously moves forwards to check Chicory's muzzle.

She cannot get certain thoughts out of her head, she squeezes her eyes shut to briefly block it out.

When she reopens it, her own paws have carried her over to watch. She sits heavy on her haunches, taking soothing breaths to calm her racing heart. Her gaze lands on Ratpaw, beckoning her closer. "Do you want to try, too?" she'd ask her apprentice, flicking her tail over to where the kitten plays with the others. Ratpaw isn't much older than Beekit, she realizes with a start, not bigger by much either. Has it already almost been a moon...?

₊˚.༄ info

• @Ratpaw | just observing :3
• 
  -> salmon ,, salmonshade
  -> cis female ,, she/her ,, 30 months
  -> warrior of riverclan ,, former marsh grouper
  -> fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with low white and blue eyes
  -> “speech, ff91a4” ,, thoughts
  -> lesbian ,, single
  -> smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  -> image by @wrendoings [ disc ]
  

​

 

[BEEFANG]

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳˚❥ Dipperpaw needn't worry on how to talk to her or at least, that's what she believes since she is merely her clanmate just as the apprentice is to her even if the kings blood courses through her, she's a mere kitten with no authority. She supposes that she never really ever puts herself in the paws of others and thinks about how uneasy her presence alone can make someone nervous seeing as both of her fathers held onto roles of power, they were both fierce cats and one of them held a more explosive personality than the other. Beekit turns to Dipperpaw hearing her inquiry about trying and the smoke molly nods eagerly at her. Mismatched eyes focused on the older molly's rock that barely even skips and splashes loudly before sinking to the bottom unceremoniously. "Maybe you'll do better on the next throw," She encourages with a smile beginning to pick at the pebbles once more.

She pauses in her selection when her papa decides to walk over and mentions the last time he had done this before, Beekit listens intently to what he says about not putting a lot of force into hitting the stone so it would skip further. Her bicolored gaze focused on his demonstration and her expression notably lights up at how far it had gone, her mouth forming a quiet little oh and wonders if she follows Smokethroat's exact advice maybe her own stone would end up going as far as his or even farther. It isn't long until her other father arrives and comes to crane his neck to nuzzle her, she can't help but let a small yet loud purr erupt from her especially when she hears that nickname. Little bug.

Of course, she would not realize that he calls her such due to her name being cursed and forsaken on his tongue even if her siblings names are more questionable than her own. Cicadakit named after her father and Starlightkit named for the stars that Cicadastar had once promised to obtain for Smokethroat. Then there was Beekit. Plain little Beekit named after their late medicine cat and a dear friend of her papa yet her father... The names more blasphemous within his jaws than a child named Starlightkit. For now, Beekit simply lives innocently without knowing and perhaps she will never find out or realize it. She grins at Cicadastar when he praises her for her throw, she feels proud of herself in that moment even if it is child's play "Thank you, dad!"

The small, round molly continuing to pick through the pebbles wanting the best one that could potentially go further and her gaze switches over to Chicorypaw who seems interested in participating, her comically large ears perking forward to watch. Perhaps it would go as far as her papa's stone or- Beekit winces as she watches the apprentice fall face first into the earth and her ears lay flat against her head. Cicadastar already asks and hover near the apprentice to see if she was okay, Beekit leans over with a slight tilt of her head and mews "Maybe you should sit this out, Chicorypaw..." Its not to discourage the molly by any means but she wouldn't wish any harm on her.

She notices Salmonshade and Ratpaw from the corner of her eye wondering if either of them would want to join, Beekit offering the duo a friendly smile only to use her snowy paw to nudge away a pebble from the rest of them and drew her paw back like Smokethroat had demonstrated, her paw sweeping forward and batting it. This time it had went a little farther than the first time she had hit her first pebble still she can't help but feel a bit disappointed that it hadn't gone far enough to match the one Smokethroat had done.

/rolled a 15 ​

[ KILL EM WITH THE MOJO, CINEMATIC SLO-MO ]​