camp The sound of giants (Web-weaving)

[Martenmask]

TW for arachnophobia; descriptions of a spider and its activities.

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It felt like newleaf was within reach. Snow still blanketed the forest, and the breeze that gusted over the ravine still cut to the bone if it caught you just right. Each scrawny squirrel or bag-of-bones blackbird he happened upon on a patrol felt like a gift, and his abundance of fluffy fur couldn't quite hide the wintertime leanness. However...it may only have been wishful thinking, but Martenmask felt that there was a promise of spring on the horizon. Perhaps a few extra minutes before sunset...perhaps the occasional whiff of something green beneath the snow...or maybe just the brand-new occupants in the nursery...but he felt certain that the seasons were changing right under his nose. But they hadn't changed quite yet, and the Ragdoll poked his head out from the warrior's den with a bleary expression on his face, wrinkling his nose at the gust of cold air.

Martenmask had tried to catch up on some of the sleep he had missed over the previous few nights while the afternoon hours whiled by, which was ... partially successful. Now the sky was dressed in its twilight best, and his Clanmates were returning from patrols or from training their apprentices. The chocolate-and-white tom squeezed his way out of the tunnel and stood by the bush under which ThunderClan's warriors slept, gradually returning to wakefulness and pondering his next move. Perhaps Flowerfoot would accompany him for a hunt...? Or...a small, scuttling flash of movement caught his eye and he turned, immediately curious. A spider was industriously working on its web, inexpressibly elegant in its twists and turns, forming a shimmering structure of remarkable complexity. It seems so easy. How does it produce its silk? What compels it to make the patterns it does? Do they really crawl into our mouths at night? Clearly riveted, the white-splashed tom sat and stared, as the rhythms of camp life flowed around him like creek water around a rock.​

 

[nightbird]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ freshly returned from patrol, nightbird wanted nothing more than to retreat to her nest and get much needed sleep before dawn. the winds of leafbare chilled her bones, penetrated right through her thick pelt like it wasn't there at all. it made the warrior's den all that much more appealing.

headed there, she stopped at the sight of martenmask. he was staring, seemingly at nothing but air. it was a strange to witness as an outsider. on her way in, she narrowed her eyes onto where his own were trained. through all her perception, she found nothing worthy of such inquisitive attention.

"what's got you so enamored?" she grunts, turning her squint onto the warrior. if she spent all her time trying to unravel every thunderclanner's antics, there'd be none left to feed or defend her clan. still, sometimes she tried to pick up on little things. it made knowing them easier, nightbird didn't want to sleep in a den of strangers after all.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎┌── AND TIME IS RAGING ⋅⋆⋅ MAY IT RAGE IN VAIN ──┐‎

• ooc ↛
  

• 

• 
  NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, 30 ☾'s
  ⭃ a small black smoke molly with a single white paw and pale silver eyes.
  ⭃ mate to raccoonstripe / / mentor to palepaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[joypaw]

As night wraps its fingers around the sky, prints of deep purple blotting out the sunset, Joypaw finds time to slip out of the medicine den. He hasn’t left camp for days, stuck in obedience, but he wants to stay moving while he can. After all, it’s his ear that’s injured, not his legs, and he tries not to get in the way as he spins slow laps. His tracks filled the snow pushed to the edge of the ravine.

Martenmask’s intent staring is enough to pause Joypaw in his strides. Not once does the other’s focus waver. He stands next to Nightbird, adjusting to the growing dark, trying to look down where the seal point directed all of this attention.

Squinting, he finally distinguishes the spider. Tiny, haired arms work diligently, though the silver of the web is invisible without the moon to sparkle upon it. He couldn’t understand why Martenmask was so interested in it now. Joypaw fights back a startle, his neck a pine-prickle of fur that he vehemently ignores.

“Cool,” he mentions flatly, shuffling back. Those things were quick, and he couldn’t help but imagine it scuttling off its web and closer to him…
​

 

[Martenmask]

Truthfully, he had not expected anyone to join him in his spider-watching. Perhaps it was no surprise that someone had, considering he was sitting just outside of the warriors' den and apparently staring at nothing, but he only realized this after the fact that this may be strange. "Nightbird," the Ragdoll meowed in a disoriented sort of way, sparing the dark-furred lead the briefest of glances before returning to his little arachnid performer, "you're just in time. She's making the most extraordinary web..." Lifting one huge paw and extending just one claw on a single toe, he gestured towards the silken construction project, an awestruck expression on his face. "Isn't it incredible? How does she know how to do that? How does she do it anyway? How much she can accomplish while being so impossibly tiny!" He shook his head in wonderment, moving aside as Joypaw's pawsteps came closer. "Look, Joypaw, lean in close." Martenmask encouraged the younger tomcat. If he was aware of the apprentice's unease, he did not seem inclined to acknowledge or accommodate it.​

 

[leafhusk]

leafhusk had noticed martenmask staring at seemingly nothing. the large tom was wide eyed, leaning in a corner outside the warrior’s den, a strange thing to do, but inoffensive nonetheless. nightbird asked what was so cool, and he started explaining a spider. curiosity brings her over, tail twitching with interest.

"oh. i used to play with these when i was a kit." she mews, watching the elegant bug at a safe distance. a smile twitches on her mw as she recalls the memory. her kithood was uneventful compared to a one growing up in thunderclan, but she had fond memories of chasing and smacking bugs around with clumsy paws. "it is a wonder. she works, and works until it’s done. have you noticed how every web looks different?"​