- Dec 27, 2022
- 354
- 51
- 28
➴➴ Their apprentice has only just begun to recover in full, but Gravelsnap does not give Sheeppaw much of a break. They do not have the patience for any querulous behavior from the younger WindClanner, although they allow their gait to slow as they walk alongside Sheeppaw. They had never truly appreciated Sheeppaw enough, they think, before the boy had fallen ill. They had missed their younger counterpart, no matter how little they show it. Though perhaps they do show it in their own way, as they silently observe the moorland at their apprentice’s side.
These lands, windswept and once loaded with the beauty of springtime, have seen a harsher summer than the warrior has ever witnessed before. They can still recall the feeling of standing beside Periwinklebreeze, looking out across a territory suddenly conflagrant and unfriendly—it had been the first time the black-patched tom had ever felt ill at ease out on the moorland. They had been angry with their mate then, they remember, but they had not held it against Peri when they offered to help the other tom carry his kits to safety. Since Thriftfeather’s reappearance in camp, they have felt somewhat betrayed by their mate once again, but they are determined not to let it shatter the delicate thing between them. They owe him understanding. They owe him… perfect, they think, hazel eyes falling upon a small slice of beauty amongst the once fire-torn landscape.
Opalescent petals, pale as the snow-capped moorland in the dead of winter, curve about the flower’s face of xanthic dust. Even from a tail-length away, Gravelsnap anticipates the noxious scent of pollen floating throughout the air, invading their airways. Their nose wrinkles. Peri will love it.
Around the flower sprout a few more blooms, their colors shifting slightly between plain white and a lavender hue, and Gravelsnap looks across them with interest. "Help me pick these," they say to their apprentice, concise as always. Their voice holds little affection, but a smile crawls its way across their face. Sheeppaw reminds them a bit of Periwinklebreeze, so perhaps she will also enjoy the flowers. If nothing else, Sheeppaw can decorate her nest with the flowers that she picks. Without further explanation, Gravelsnap begins to pluck a couple of the blooms from the ground, holding their stems in his jaws with a soft grip.
These lands, windswept and once loaded with the beauty of springtime, have seen a harsher summer than the warrior has ever witnessed before. They can still recall the feeling of standing beside Periwinklebreeze, looking out across a territory suddenly conflagrant and unfriendly—it had been the first time the black-patched tom had ever felt ill at ease out on the moorland. They had been angry with their mate then, they remember, but they had not held it against Peri when they offered to help the other tom carry his kits to safety. Since Thriftfeather’s reappearance in camp, they have felt somewhat betrayed by their mate once again, but they are determined not to let it shatter the delicate thing between them. They owe him understanding. They owe him… perfect, they think, hazel eyes falling upon a small slice of beauty amongst the once fire-torn landscape.
Opalescent petals, pale as the snow-capped moorland in the dead of winter, curve about the flower’s face of xanthic dust. Even from a tail-length away, Gravelsnap anticipates the noxious scent of pollen floating throughout the air, invading their airways. Their nose wrinkles. Peri will love it.
Around the flower sprout a few more blooms, their colors shifting slightly between plain white and a lavender hue, and Gravelsnap looks across them with interest. "Help me pick these," they say to their apprentice, concise as always. Their voice holds little affection, but a smile crawls its way across their face. Sheeppaw reminds them a bit of Periwinklebreeze, so perhaps she will also enjoy the flowers. If nothing else, Sheeppaw can decorate her nest with the flowers that she picks. Without further explanation, Gravelsnap begins to pluck a couple of the blooms from the ground, holding their stems in his jaws with a soft grip.
- ooc: apprentice tag @SHEEPPAW
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GRAVELSNAP ❯❯ they/he, moor runner of windclan
⭃ average-sized black and white warrior who seems smaller than he is. speaks rarely and quietly.
⭃ mate to periwinklebreeze ; sibling to slateheart
⭃ mentoring sheeppaw ; formerly mentored thriftfeather
⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay is allowed, but they hate physical contact & will lash out if not close friends / family
⭃ penned by foxlore
