camp VON DUTCH ˎˊ- CLOUD WATCHING

[carawaysong]

-ˋˏ ༻✧༺ ˎˊ- carawaysong was left with idle paws at the end of a relatively busy day. not quite tired enough to turn in to her nest, but too exhausted to even think of doing another task. it was a predicament that left her rolling to rest on her spine, silver underbelly turned to the dwindling sun.

the clouds grew angrier the longer she watched, rolling over riverclan's camp in darkened shapes. she couldn't yet taste the rain upon the air, maybe it would pass over them, relieve some other chunk of the land from greenleaf's lingering heat. stuck in her own contemplations, there is a long pause before she recognizes a shadow looming over her. black ears twitch and a paw stretches upwards as she meets her clanmate with a lazy grin.

they ask what she's doing, and isn't it obvious? she could practically feel the disapproval rolling from them in waves. "i'm lookin," the warrior hums, tail twitching in amusement. on the horizon, she spots lightning stem from a dark cloud, hears the distant rumble of thunder. carawaysong reaches to point it out, mossy eyes squinting slightly with mirth. "that one- you see?"

and despite her pointing it out, her clanmate does not turn. with an annoyed puff, the warrior extends her paw once again, pressing it against their head to turn it. "looks like you," carawaysong teases light-heartedly. it was notably not cat shaped, more akin to a lump of fish on the pile. but, hopefully with the addition of a toothily good natured smile, they wouldn't take the comment too harshly.

WELCOME TO THE STORM ˎˊ───‎ ༺ I AM THUNDER‎ ‎‎‎⚔︎

• OOC ↛
  

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  CARAWAYSONG ✩ SHE/HER, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN, 14 ☾'s
  ⭃ a tall and slender longhaired silver tabby with olive green eyes.
  ⭃ willowroot x poppysplash / / currently mentoring none.
  ⭃ 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.
  
  " ALL THE STONES AND KINGS OF OLD ⚔︎
  
  WILL HEAR US SCREAMING AT THE COLD "
  
  

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[FERNGILL]

Looking, she said ... well, it was a good thing the lightnign was pretty far away. In honesty, Ferngill wasn't keen to stay outside for too long with a brewing storm, but Carawaysong was a good warrior and she didn't seem too nervous. Maybe he was a bit too receptive to other people's emotions, but that she seemed content relaxed him, a little bit. That one- and Ferngill narrowed his solitary eye, but in truth it was pretty difficult to tell which one of these rolling clouds she was talking about...

"Oh!" he said, as she forcibly turned his head. There was a big, stupid grin on Carawaysong's face when she said it looked like him. It obviously didn't, and Ferngill had a pretty good imagination if he did say so himself... but he couldn't help but laugh at the notion of it, a snicker scraping past his teeth. "Ohhh, I see... if I look super closely, I can just about see my whiskers," he joked, squinting as he feigned peering so close.

In truth, he still didn't really know what there was to look at ... but maybe the looming nature of all of it was what Crawaysong found fascinating.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[robinheart]

Idle is a term Robinheart knows all too well. Her children are approaching apprenticehood - they do not need her as they once did. Claythorn’s brood are all old enough to play and explore with intermittent supervision. Queenhood has begun to fit like a well worn shawl. There is comfort in it, yes, but it no longer sits quite right upon dappled shoulders.

Not when there are new duties on the horizon.

Robinheart lounges not far from where her former mentor’s daughter lays. Carawaysong is approaching the age with which she can take an apprentice for herself. Will she be given one of Robinheart’s own? Is it Starclan’s will to make a tradition of mentor and apprentice, drawn on through the generations? The queen could not know for certain. But she finds warmth blossoming in her chest at the thought of one so carefree and unafraid to joke taking one of her kits under their metaphorical wing.

“Hmmm yes, I see it too,” the tortoiseshell teases as citrine eyes glance skyward at the dark blob of cumulonimbus that supposedly looks like her friend Ferngill. “It’s the spitting image of you, Ferny.”​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[SHARPPAW]

Sharppaw have been self-training not too far from where the others are with the clouds on current focus, his swiping motions unstop even as he hears the comments about one's imagine in the particular shaped clouds. His sharp gaze flickers over from Ferngill to the dark sky, but doesn't react more than a quiet hm. It's interesting how certain individuals can find any meaning or symbol within the smallest things of life. Sharppaw had been told that he isn't the most creative individual, and he can't deny what is simply the truth.

He's a straight and sharp thinker, nothing more or less than that, really. Though, he wonders how nice it must be to be able to find some form of comfort in these marvellous things as the clouds and stars, even though they will all fade away in the end. He's content with how he sees the world, though. Sharppaw doesn't add his thought with his clanmates, unsure what is there that he can comment about. Instead, he continues with his personal training, itching for the rain to fall so he can have a nice change of the atmosphere.

His swiping turns furious at the sight of lightning, a dark reminder on horizon.
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