camp YOUR NAME SPELLED BACKWARDS ☽ MOPING

[WOLFWIND]

How long has it been? A moon? Maybe more?

The worst part was that, not that much had even changed, and she felt bad for thinking that. Morningpaw was always the quietest of the bunch, more of a shadow than her siblings. The daily ongoings of camp weren't so different, save from a few dimmer faces, some less-bright smiles... a new disdain for the neighbors they'd once been the closest of pals with. But others still laughed on. The world moved on without her. In camp, everything was normal.

It was different when she was out on her own though, lacking the light behind her. Hunts were uneventful. Less than that. Only for but a moon, had she been lying awake in her nest, grinning up at the bramble wall as she mulled over her plans. What to say, what to teach, what the next day had in store. Now, she thought of nothin' when she was out here. It was nothin'. Not like she did nothin'. How stupid would that be of her, when it's leaf-bare and their neighbors were already willing to kill for every scrap of prey they got their mitts on? She still worked and did as she needed. But it was just that. Nothin' more.

She was reassigned a scrap, and then the hunts weren't so lonely no more, but it didn't make them any less nothin'. He wasn't so dissimilar. She thinks he used to be, but now he was quiet. Sad from his own loss, or somethin'. He was similar, but not her. Felt unfair for Wolfwind to have another one to get killed, anyways. No amount of loss would stop Emberstar from being dumb as shit, she's learned.

Free time is spent with another heapin' hunk of nothin'. Usually Wolfwind just stares at the sky, she thinks. She doesn't remember. Today, she sits her ass down on one of the many stumps in the clearing, a small rock at one paw, and a twig in the other. For a long while, she jus' looks sorta blankly, both of her finds tucked beneath grey pads. She was the rock. Morningpaw was the twig. "G'day Morningpaw," she says, and anyone who gave her a funny look would promptly be shot a flesh-rotting glare. She nudges the rock with her paw. "Ya ready for trainin' today?"

She nudges the twig forward then, her voice raising in pitch, "Nuh-uh. M'not ready, Wolfwind."

Rock-her was APPALLED by this. Its uneven surface wobbles on the stump with incredulity. "Why ever not, Morningpaw?"

An what would she have said here? Oh, I'm not strong enough. Oh, I'm not good enough. Oh, I don't want to fight. I'm not ready to fight. Somethin' like that. But the real truth was a bummer right in front of 'er. "I'm FUCKING DEAD, Wolfwind." She promptly grasps the stone in jaw and drops it atop the twig, shattering it instantly.

Wolfwind blinks at the display.​

 

[Sunfreckle]

Everyone grieved differently, he realized. Some in morose silence, seeking solitude from the world and wishing only to be left unbothered. Others desired comfort, someone at their side and a shoulder to lean on, an ear to lend and a heart to welcome them. Wolfwind...was neither of those. She had always been eccentric and a little on the more abrasive and careless side, a young warrior with too much energy and not a lot of places to spend it so she was often left working herself up and he had not a clue how to really intereact with her at times. But she was a clanmate and one who suffered, so his feelings upon spotting the display from a distance by the warrior's den was only to stare in confused silence for a few moments rather than protest the callous act of it like he might have otherwise impulsively done. Wolfwind ends her performance with a slow stare, perched upon her stump and unmoving and he debates holding his tongue and remaining where he is for all of five seconds before the three-legged tabby is rising to stand and stalking over with intent.
This wouldn't do. He could only imagine the horror some might have seeing her play pretend with scattered bits of rocks and twigs and making a scene where youthful young ears and eyes might perceive her.
Sunfreckle is balancing his feelings as he approaches still, wanting to offer comfort on one paw and slap her upside the head with the other but since he only has the one forepaw to work with then he would need to do it one at a time rather than simultaneously like he wanted.
"Wolfwind." He greets, tail up and expression a strained smile he made no attempt to actually straighten out-it's not like he was a good liar so he apprehension was going to be clear either way and he was not here to play pretend as she was; Sunfreckle was honest. Whether it was a good thing or not.
He wants to tell her Morningpaw wouldn't want her to mope around like this for the rest of her life, but feelings were complicated and it wasn't a very tactful message to give, instead he does what he did with his own kits when they were disheartened or mourning a lost sister. He redirects.
"Would you like to come hunting with me and Shallowpaw? Bring Sparkpaw with you. He could use some fresh air, he's been sitting around on his own so much. I'm worried for him." His kits never got a break from grief it seemed, between Dovekit before they were apprenticed, Morningpaw and then Mossypaw. ThunderClan had taken a number of losses, most young and some older like losing Blackmoon so recently. If only they could breath for a moment.

Mentions - @SHALLOWPAW & @Sparkpaw
​

 

[Hollow Tree]

What in Starclan was Wolfwind doing? Hollow Tree’s yellow hues watched her niece behave like a kit. At least, to her, playing with sticks and rocks was childish behavior. And to hear they were pretending that Morningpaw was a twig. It felt disrespectful to the dead apprentice. But she takes a moment to reflect as Sunfreckle speaks with them. Maybe she felt angered by their play pretend because she was still grieving herself. Sometimes still expecting to see Morningpaw within camp.

She sighs.

Hollow Tree removed herself from her spot and got closer to the younger warrior. Hunting sounded good and maybe some fresh air would not only do Sparkpaw good but Wolfwind too. She wanted to invite herself and Hollypaw but didn’t want to overcrowd this put together hunting patrol. “You guys should have better luck now that most of the snow has melted.” yes, maybe not talking about the odd display would make things better. ​

[ you fall through the trees . tags ]​

 

[SHALLOW]

Shallowpaw had been watching this strange display this warrior was doing which just happened to be going on not far away from where he lay trying to finish his meal. He couldn't quite tell what exactly this warrior was doing, playing with sticks and rocks?. A name escaped the grey-wariors mouth. Morningpaw. That just made it even more strange to pretend a dead cat was alive. In normal cases he wouldn't approach situations like this thinking it was better to stay out of them. However his mentor showed up doing the bold move to approach Wolfwind, and of course his name got brought up. Shallowpaw blinked. He was not sure he liked that idea. Wolfwind was weird and Sparkpaw was..loud. He remember them from the nursery, how they constantly had caused Sunfreckle trouble. It was not really a situation he wanted to be placed in by his mentor had other intentions on their mind.

The apprentice stood up, having finished his meal anyway and made his way over to join the red freckled tabbys side. He cast a look down at the warrior, his expression blank from emotions. He blinked again, thinking before adding. " It would be good for you." [he stated flatly, just stating the truth. Pretending a stick to be a dead cat couldn't possibly be healthy for the mind.


​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Grief was... an odd thing, he had learned. Where peace and sadness swirled a concoction in his own heart, within others who had known and loved Wisps there seemed to exist a menagerie of other emotions, some that Berryheart could not understand. Little-little seemed angry, Whispers steeled and Clamours... Clamours was doing this. From where he lay, drowsiness threatening to overtake him, a rude awakening bounded upon his niece's voice and caught hooded eyes. A gaze askant settled upon her, observed as a smattering of camp-mates made their ways over.

For a moment, he felt small again. That shrinking wave, the one that made him feel as if he was a kitten. As if his true self floated above him, observing, watching his body. He had not been the first to approach- did that make him inadequate, as kin? Did it bode even worse that he had not been a shoulder for Clamours to lean on in the first place?

Selfish, to think that way- a realisation that soon sprung up in his mind, and shouldered away the less-than-altruistic self pity that brewed in his gaze. Where he could not offer words, perhaps he could at least offer presence- so to a trio of paws did he rise, padding over and taking position beside Nifty. Subtle softness in asymmetrical eyes, he cited his head in the ginger tom's direction, a silent signal that he would attend and that he wanted Clamours to come too. ​

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​