camp up, down, and sideways ] migraine

[MAELSTROMPAW]

Maelstrompaw blinks, her vision swimming as she struggles to focus on the dim surroundings of the apprentice den. The throb in her head is a dull but relentless ache, stretching from her temples to the back of her neck, making her entire skull feel tight. Every little sound—the rustle of leaves outside, the soft breathing of her sleeping denmates—feels like a drumbeat echoing straight into her brain. She shifts carefully, as though even the slightest movement might send another spike of pain radiating through her head. The pounding is almost enough to make her consider curling back into her nest, but the den feels too stifling, like the walls are pressing in on her. She can't just lie here. Dragging herself up, she takes slow, careful steps toward the den's entrance, squinting as the first rays of sunlight hit her. She pauses, blinking against the light and clenching her jaw as the brightness sends another wave of pain crashing through her. But the soft rustling of the camp and the murmurs of early-morning activity draw her forward, reminding her that outside, things are familiar and steady, somewhere she can find comfort and maybe even shake off the nagging pain in her skull.

Once outside, Maelstrompaw scans the clearing, her amber gaze lingering on each familiar shape. The world feels sharp today—like she can see every detail, every twitch of a whisker, every speck of dust floating in the sunlight. It's dizzying, but it also makes her feel grounded in a strange way. The sight of her clanmates, busy with their early tasks, fills her with a quiet, steady warmth, and despite the discomfort, a small smile tugs at her lips. She stretches, rolling her shoulders and trying to ease the tension knotted there. A few cautious breaths later, the ache in her head seems to settle into something bearable. With her pain slightly dulled, a spark of energy bubbles up, pushing her paws forward into the camp. She glances around, hoping to spot someone who looks friendly—or at least, not too busy. Maybe someone she could chat with, just for a few moments, to take her mind off things. Talking always helps, even if it's just to hear someone's voice. But as she surveys the camp, a flicker of doubt creeps in, tugging her ears back. The last time she'd bounced up to a group of her denmates, eager to talk, she'd gotten a few awkward glances and half-hearted replies. It hadn't been bad, exactly, but she remembers their surprised looks, the way her energy had felt like too much, too fast. Her stomach twists at the thought, and her paws falter, caught between the urge to find someone and the worry that she'll just come off as bothersome.

"Come on, Mae," she whispers to herself, bracing her shoulders as if that'll steady her nerves. This headache can't hold her back forever. With a hesitant, slightly pained smile, she pads forward again, her gaze scanning the camp one last time as she clings to the hope of finding a friendly face—or at the very least, someone who won't mind a little conversation.​

 

[Wraithwail]

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ What a brutal night she had endured, the gangly molly stretching out each of her spindly legs in turn until they quivered with the effort, her boney extremities taut with a stiffness brought on by a persistent chill in the air as was customary of the beginning of Leafbare. Not her favorite season, admittedly- the way the bright moorland flora was suffocated by a blanket of endless snow that turned hoary and slush once the weather began to warm once again. The ivory sting burned her plush pads and the icy flakes clung desperately to her fur like a kit to it's mother, promising to burden her with its heavy melt.

Approaching the prey pile was another reminder of what would soon be lost, though as she picked through the remnants of what would soon be much less plentiful she figured it would matter little in comparison to the former. She had little appetite most days, her shrunken abdomen and hollowed eyes leaving little up for others speculation. With a breathy hum, she would settle on the smallest of mice, feeling unwilling to spend any extra time picking the feathers from a bird in order to reveal the tender flesh beneath- though due to the recent weather, said tenderness may have become more of a leathery crunch. No matter, for she preferred the taste of mouse to bird anyways.

As she turned to settle for a meal with silent paws, her attention was drawn with languid eyes by the movement of one displaying a level of enthusiasum that was perhaps a bit too intense for having just awoken from slumber. To some degree, this was an act, the tightness in the younger she-cats muscles and her rapidly searching eyes giving away what she tried so hard to cover up. It was what Wraithwail used to do during her apprentice years as well, though she had never been able to put up a front nearly as convincing as Maelstrompaw could. It amused her to some degree, to see one try so hard just to fit in, when fitting in was such an easy thing to accomplish...and such a boring manner in which to exist.

Wraithwail would allow her gaze to find Maelstrompaws before offering her a gentle but eerily wrong looking smile- it bled kindness, and yet did not seem entirely sincere- as if she, too, was attempting to be something that she was not. Nevertheless, she would attempt to coax the other towards her with a slow wave of her plumy tail."Mi querida, you would not lament sharing this ratón with me, hmm? It is but a mouthful, yet I fear I am not well suited for dining..."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MISTRESS OF GRIEF ༄˖°.🕯️.ೃ࿔*:･ LADY OF TEARS ──┐‎

• ooc:

• 

• 
  WRAITHWAIL she/her, warrior of windclan, 18 moons.
  ⭃ tall, longhaired white cat with hollow verdant eyes.
  ⭃ important relationships on this line / / family, mate, apprentice, kids, whateva! [tbd]
  ⭃ peaceful, healing and minor combative powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by sloane ↛ @encarcerated on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[rushpaw.]

As the sun rises, the start of it's daily odyssey across the sky, it brings with it very little warmth. Rushpaw sits in the clearing, stretching and mentally prepping himself for today's tunnel lesson - his mentor's favorite thing was to force him underground first thing in the morning, before he'd even had a chance to eat, only to send him on an above ground hunt after. And, the catch with that? He didn't even get to eat whatever prey he'd caught. It went straight to the elders. If he was lucky there would be something waiting for him on the pile. If he was lucky.

Malestrompaw - one of the newer apprentices - pokes her head out of their shared den, and Rushpaw almost scoffs at the lost-puppy way she looks around, as if trying to find someone to interact with. Wraithwail invites her over, and that saves him the trouble of entertaining the young molly. He doesn't have time for that anyway, though, as his mentor signals him to come with a flick of their tail, and, scowling, he follows.

when does a ripple // become a tidal wave

• 
  ooc - in and out !!
  
• 
  #eb9757
• 
  (img) rushpaw * he/him * 10 moons
  mentored by npc
  lh cream point; blue eyes
  Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
  penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots

​

 

[STOATSPOT]

Returning from a small morning patrol, Stoatspot bids her patrolmates a farewell and a tired-smile, wanting nothing more than to get the pesky dirt from between her claws before she goes back out later... The feeling drove her nuts sometimes, when it seems like mud is caked between... everywhere, in her paws, in her claws, inside her paws. Agh! Just one of those mornings...

She stops in her tracks from where she had been moving towards when she watches an apprentice pop up, sluggish and... a little off, in a way. Rushpaws quick exit is paid almost no mind to her as she puffs out a small, inaudible sigh and makes her way over.

"Ain't lookin too hot, y'okay?" Stoat extends another olive branch with a twitch of her short tail, a tilt of her head as her gaze settles on the slightly pained, struggle-smile the apprentice wears. Wraithwail offers a mouse up and she offers a quick nod towards the other, seating herself closer to them and unsheathing her claws, using one paw to scrape the dirt out from the other as she speaks up again, "M'sure Cottonsprig n' Celandinepaw wouldn't mind a visitor!" she flashes a smile towards the apprentice, trying to drive home the point that it was okay to seek help if the other so desired.

𝖫𝖨𝖥𝖤 𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖣 𝖴𝖲 𝖠 𝖯𝖠𝖸𝖢𝖧𝖤𝖢𝖪 ‧₊˚🍎 𝖶𝖤 𝖲𝖠𝖨𝖣 𝖶𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖪𝖤𝖣 𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖲

• 
  ❥ stoatspot ʚ♡ɞ palomino
  ❥ cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 26 months
  ❥ windclan warrior ʚ♡ɞ mentoring n/a
  ❥ fluffy black / fawn tortie with heterochromia ʚ♡ɞ short, but pure muscle
  ❥ "speech, bfdb81" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
  ❥ single ʚ♡ɞ pansexual
  ❥ smells like straw, fresh rainfall & soil ʚ♡ɞ home on the range
  ❥ penned by chuff

 

[MAELSTROMPAW]

Maelstrompaw's head spins slightly as she registers the commotion in the camp around her. She tries to shake the grogginess from her mind, her eyes flickering over Rushpaw as he scurries off with his mentor. He doesn't seem too interested in her, and though a small part of her feels a pang of disappointment, she shrugs it off. The world's already stressful enough without her overthinking a stray glance. But then, as she begins to turn away, she catches another set of eyes on her. Wraithwail's smile—gentle, but a touch too strange to feel comforting—sends a slight chill down her spine, but there's something in it that beckons her closer, almost like an invitation into a world she doesn't quite understand. Mae's paws hesitate, caught between the safety of distance and the strange pull of curiosity. Then Wraithwail's voice cuts through her indecision, smooth and slightly melodic.

Mae blinks, surprised. Her gaze drops to the mouse Wraithwail offers, feeling both gratitude and a faint unease—there's something about this cat's strange formality, the warmth in her words tinged with something mysterious. But she can't deny she feels a strange comfort in the invitation. She takes a few cautious steps forward, settling down beside her, careful not to disturb the eerie serenity Wraithwail seems to exude. "Oh, um... thanks, Wraithwail," she murmurs, her voice soft but carrying a bit of the pain she's trying so hard to mask. She nibbles at the mouse, savoring the small morsels as if each bite might help ease the pounding in her head. Her gaze shifts up from her meal, meeting Wraithwail's odd, probing stare again. She shifts slightly, feeling as though the older cat's eyes can see through the veneer she's working so hard to maintain. But for now, she lets herself bask in the quiet, hoping the older cat won't ask too many questions.

She's just about to take another small bite when she senses movement from the side. She glances over, seeing Stoatspot padding over with a welcoming nod. The older warrior's presence feels like a warm breeze in comparison, her posture relaxed and open as she speaks. Mae blinks, caught off guard. Her ears flick back in a brief moment of embarrassment before she forces another small smile, softer and slightly more genuine this time. "Oh, um… yeah! Just, uh, tired, I guess," she lies, her voice wavering slightly. But the headache throbs a little less under the gaze of her two clanmates, and she relaxes a bit more, reassured by their attention. She shifts her paws, brushing her fur self-consciously, and glances between the two older cats. "It's just, you know… one of those mornings," she says softly, letting a hint of her vulnerability slip through. Her voice wavers for a moment, before she manages to smooth it out with a breath. "I was just… hoping for some company, I think." Mae takes another small nibble of the mouse, her posture relaxing even further as she lets herself sink into the quiet comfort of the moment.​