the rock cried out / intro

[SNAILSTRIDE]

They had always been a little different from the other apprentices. He tired more easily from his duties; playing was something that would be fine one moment, and the next, he would be on the floor befuddled. There were other little things he noticed about himself, especially now that leaf-bare had claimed their home, mainly that he strongly disliked the snow. At first, it had been fun to run around and push it off of the moors onto unsuspecting patrols (not that he would claim responsibility for such a thing happening), now, it was a burden, siphoning away his hiding places and leaving a biting residue upon his paws. Hunger and death seemed synonymous with winter, concepts that Snailpaw did not find himself completely understanding. Why was hunger so bad if you could just eat more food? Why was death so bad if it meant you would never be hungry again? No one seemed to give them a straight answer, so they had given up on that endless cycle of questioning and moved on to others - like why was he the one that needed to go on patrols? Why did he have to learn how to fight and hunt and do all the things that made him feel bad?

Such protests were seldom vocalised by the grey tabby, though today, he had decided to take matters into his own paws. It would not be the first time that Snailpaw conveniently went missing when his mentor wanted him for something and it would not be the last, still, the long-furred feline had left the cuddle pile of apprentices early that day to find another place in the camp to rest in peace. The fur bristled along his marbled back as he scurried about the open camp, dodging the sleeping bodies of his groupmates as he went. They heard a few grumbles when their clumsy paws accidentally found a tail or two, but a quick apology was enough to placate most of those he'd awoken. Snailpaw paused when he'd escaped the main horde of snoozers, and craned his neck up towards Silverpelt. The stars were fading with the morning's fast approach and already, he saw the shapes of warriors behind gaps in the gorse walls. Their ears flattened - it seemed it wouldn't be as easy to shirk work as they'd originally thought. Blue eyes shot toward the camp entrance, then back towards the shelter they'd left.

Panic struck Snailpaw as they heard a set of pawsteps crunching on the snow behind them, all too quickly, they dived headfirst into a pile of snow, biting back colourful curses as the cold nipped their ears. It was all strategy, of course: if someone asked them why they were awake, Snailpaw would have no answer, but if someone asked them why they were pretending to be a snowcat? The possibilities for a good cover-up would be endless. They poked their head out of the snowpile until just their muzzle and eyes were visible, the latter blinking innocently at whoever had spooked him. "Look! I'm a RiverClanner!" He beamed overenthusiastically to them, two lumps of snow moving subtly where the apprentice flailed their alabaster paws. It did not matter to them if their joke made little sense, the confusion from anyone who didn't pretend to get the joke would bring enough joy as it was.

 

[Badgermoon]

The black of Badgermoon's coat caught the last of the starlight as the big-bodied warrior roused himself, indulging in a leisurely stretch and a huge, noisy yawn as he did so. Another day with his belly grumbling and his paw-pads pressed to the frigid earth...another day with tensions swirling through camp and the possibility of threats from all sides. Another day with the wide-open skies, though...another day with the warmth of his Clanmates' bodies. Another day with the cold, clean air that felt like his very breath was renewing his body and spirit. There were hardships, no doubt, but he couldn't resist the sense of happiness that rose as well as his trepidation for what the day could bring. The yellow-eyed cat was preparing to trot out of camp when he saw a flash of striped fur disappear into a snowbank. He stopped, surprised, tilting his head - had that been a cat? Who would leap into a pile of snow like that? It was cold!

Badgermoon didn't have much time to ponder, though, because a face soon popped out of the snow. "Look! I'm a RiverClanner!" the joke was utterly nonsensical, the face totally unexpected and unfamiliar; the entire situation bizarre and surreal at such an early hour - what could he do but burst out laughing? The bicolor tom threw his head back and laughed uproariously, falling onto his hindquarters and laughing til tears stung his eyes and his breath was gone. "Surely you are, fish-eater! What's your name, son?" he wheezed out, sides heaving with mirth, eyes crinkled.​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — Icepaw's entirely unlike her peer in that she's married to her work; it gives her such purpose and pride, so she takes quite a bit of pleasure in fulfilling her duties. Then again, her work's a lot more important than Snailpaw's — how could she not be enthusiastic about such a special role? She's actually on the hunt for a partner to take underground after having been roused by Snailpaw's clumsy departure (not that she's particularly upset about it because it means she can get an early start), but some chatter and a sudden burst of laughter distracts her. I'm trying to be more social, she reminds herself, and then approaches with pricked ears to find a mirthful Badgermoon talking with Snailpaw, whose head is sticking out of a snowbank. StarClan, how are they not freezing their tail off?

A RiverClanner. Now how does that make any sense? Icepaw just stares at the other apprentice for a few moments, lacking any comprehension in her pale gaze. But Badgermoon gets it, and clearly the joke she's missing is hilarious; self-consciousness blossoms within her as she tries vainly to understand. She's not about to admit to her difficulty, however, and instead offers a chuckle that comes out weaker than she'd hoped. Not too convincing, probably, but she hopes it's enough to not look entirely stupid. Gah, she wishes she could think of something to say. Why's she so bad at this?
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[SUNNVAR]

How these moor-cats could have grown to hate the snow, he could not begin to understand. It was all that he had known in the long-past moons of his youth. He learned to walk as the seasons turned, to breathe when the air still carried its bite. This was far from the first that he had seen, though there is something to be said for this one's beauty. The flat expanse of their world seemed to cradle the white, rising up at the edges and glinting beneath the cool starlight. His own paws are well-hardened, unbothered by the icy crystals that form. There would be no saying that it is wholly pleasant– hunger and death, as the child thinks. With good fortune and bold hearts, though, they would leave such worries behind them. All that he knew was WindClan, and all that WindClan would know would be success through these trying times.

The laughter of his newfound clanmates, one voice stronger than the other, is what calls Sunstride into the night. RiverClanner– he has heard such things before, but never met them in their whole. What he knew of them was not enough to make sense of this joke; even though involuntary amusement begins to twist the warrior's maw, it is not with understanding of this joke. "Are they all so rounded as you, oh great River-Cat?" he laughs.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

​

 

[SNAILSTRIDE]

A flash of surprise appeared on the moggy's face at Badgermoon's incredulous laughter, his ears swiveling forwards in agreement as a smile appeared on their maw. Already, other ideas for the snow had begun to rotate in their brain, whilst the bicoloured tom spoke, Snailpaw worked on other ways in which he could hide in the frosty blankets - if there was a way that didn't involve their ears and nose getting chilly, they'd do it in a heartbeat! "I'm uh... Fishface! Fishface the RiverClan Warri- Riverswimmer, and I'm here to take your..." Words often came smoothly to the tabby, playing pretend moons after becoming 'too old' for it, they found themself staggering for a reason for a 'fish-cat' to be so far in the moorlands. They grinned sheepishly, an apology for being unable to keep up with the game, and exploded out of the snow pile, sending clumps of it everywhere with one mirthful shake of their fur. Without losing a skip in their step, they turned their head towards Badgermoon. "Just kidding~ It's actually me, Snailpaw! Snails are much better than fish, oh yes they are! Not to eat of course, though I haven't actually eaten either before.... oh... saaaaaay.".

Their sapphire gaze flittered towards Icepaw, recognising the tail-end of her attempts to understand his joke. Snailpaw himself didn't understand it, at this point, he was pretending to be the funniest cat alive for Badgermoon's sake. "You look like you ate bugs as a kitten. Did you? Did you eat one of those slimy things?". They cocked their head quizzically toward Icepaw, barely giving her time to answer before his attention wandered again, this time, to Sunstride. Their eyes lit up like Christmas trees as Sunstride questioned him. That's it! That could have been his joke all along! All too enthusiastically, Snailpaw nodded their head, the tricoloured hairs across their body standing to attention to make themselves appear bigger. They squared their paws too for good measure, feeling themselves looking not too dissimilarly from some kittypets he'd seen out near the Horseplace. He envied their easy life, the warmth of the hay and the promise of free food were temptations the clanborn found himself wanting to fall to, but they clung onto the life that they had on the moor. Snailpaw feared that no other life would give them the joy that their WindClan clanmates gave him.

"Even more so!" They explained, shuffling forwards like a cat forced to wear fifty pelts. It almost felt wrong to insult kittypets and RiverClanners alike, but the others were getting a kick out of it, so Snailpaw continued. "I was pretending to be a little-er one! It was a good joke, wasn't it?" He beamed, searching for Sunstride's approval.

 

[BUMBLEBREEZE.]

bumblebreeze hadn't known what it meant to be a riverclanner. he barely knew what it meant to be a damned windclanner. he hated it here, only few cats managing to keep him from leaving. from bailing from a place he used to call a home. now it was nothing more than a band of cats, under the name of windclan. he only watches them for a moment before twisting his half scarred face into an unreadable expression. he blinked his only eye, twitching his nose back and forth, torn ear with it. he walked closer to the crowd, eye squinting.

"oui. i think it was a pretty good joke. trés drôle."

the russian blue said, offering a partial smile. he didn't really... get the joke, but the last thing he needed was for the kit to be upset on his account.
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[ WISH I COULD TURN YOU BACK INTO A STRANGER ]​