09.30.2019 → There has been some exciting changes on CD lately! We've added a new monarchy to the groups of cats on the islands, as well as restructured the boards a bit to allow for some space - thus, redrawing the map! We've also promoted Nifty to Global Mod! There are some auditions open right now for JungleClan Deputy as well as for all of the new Kingdom of Mokuhau high ranks - Artemis
09.12.2019 → Unfortunately Elaedria is stepping down as administrator due to life being too busy to keep up! The site will be going through some restructuring in high ranks as well due to this. Effective immediately, the word count is now 100 minimum. Some more changes will be coming in the future - members have been emailed a survey to help us figure out what to change and how to get better. Thanks for your patience! - Artemis
WEATHER
Year 55, Scorching Sands 09.05.2019 → The temperatures of the islands are a steady 98° F on land/ high 80s in water. There is almost no breeze, the sun is uncomfortably warm.
Prey during the day is pretty scarce due to the heat, however is quite active after the sun goes down.
Lost in the dense jungles of scattered islands, facing perils unimagined by their ancestors, are three warrior groups - The traditional JungleClan, descendants of the original clans carried aboard a twoleg contraption from their home long ago and breaking new ground on old beliefs. Second, the curious TidalClan, made up of kittypets who chose to abandon their long since passed twoleg civilization ways for those of true felines. Lastly, the mysterious Tribe of Twisted Roots, hidden in the mist from others with their strange ways and a deeper knowledge of the land around them. Together they must learn how to take their fate into their own paws if they wish to survive this land of erupting mountains and roaring waters.
Join our crew and dive into an island-based Warriors roleplay - a twist on the original series by Erin Hunter. We are a semi-literate site with a minimum of 100 words per post.
Congratulations doe! Your character has been approved! Please be sure to sign your character up to the TAKEN NAMES AND CLAIM and add your character to JUNGLECLAN'S ALLEGIANCES before making your first in-character post!
Thank you so much!
Tags: Jinn (Ivystar, Leader), seppi (Anispine, Medicine cat)
Paws itching to get up to something, the large Tribe navigator had set her sights outside of the camp as soon as she had opened her eyes that morning. Fern had went on the dawn patrol, keeping up appearances, but her mind was a million miles away. She needed an adventure, something to get her adrenaline pumping, and make her feel alive. There weren’t many parts of the Tribe territory that she hadn’t scoured within an inch of her life, but there was one spot that she had always seemed to avoid. Perhaps it was the thought of getting her pelt wet, or simply because once she explored the shipwreck, there would be nothing new to excite her. But the urge was too great to ignore, and once the patrol was over, the large tabby she-cat had taken off, without so much as a whisper of her destination.
The sun beat down on her pelt, powering her strong strides, her bright eyes dancing with anticipation. Tail streaming behind her, she maneuvered through the territory she called home, and loved more than life itself, claws unsheathing instinctively over rough patches, igniting a fire within. A lone bird of prey seemed to race her, its’ call echoing in her ears, driving her forward, her gaze shooting up to gauge whether she was winning the race or not. As her paws struck sand, she came to a stop, her eyes following the birds flight, aching to join them, jealous of their freedom. To not be limited by the ground beneath her paws was both wondrous and terrifying, but she longed for it. Longed to know what was beyond the island, if there were other cats out there, or if this was all she would ever know. She craved more than what this life could give her.
Long after the bird was out of sight, Fern stayed there, her gaze dropping to the broken ship that jutted out of the water, whispering for her to come to it, explore it, to learn every piece of it. It drew her forward until her paws touched the water, eyes full of awe, but something stopped her. The same sense of adventure that carried her to this moment, coaxed her back to reality. This was dangerous, even for someone as fearless as her, and coming here alone was perhaps one of the stupider things she had done. But she couldn’t stop now. She was here, facing a challenge unlike any other, there was no turning back. Taking a deep breath, the large grey tabby took another step, but the sound of rustling behind her stopped her, her entire body on high alert now.
“Who’s there?” She called, turning away from the shipwreck, green eyes trying to locate the creature that had ruined her moment.
Roaming through the territory offered her a chance to clear her head, as well as hunt without the judgmental eyes of her Clanmates watching her every move. It was peaceful, if nothing else, though the battle raging her head was anything but. There were feelings she wasn’t used to, directed to one she-cat in particular, and she didn’t exactly know what to do with them. So, Coralfrost had decided the best option was to ignore them, though that plan wasn’t panning out as well as she had hoped. Everytime she caught a whiff of hibiscus, her mind immediately went to the Chief, with a flower behind her ear, and her pelt illuminated by the cool moonbeams. The image burned in her brain was maddening.
Sighing heavily, the scrawny tortoishell swiped at a stem of grass, severing it and sending it flying. The territory was too quiet, a breeding ground for inappropriate thoughts that demanded to be acknowledged. She needed to drown them out, push them to the back of her mind to be picked over at a later date. Snorting sharply, the she-cat flicked her tail and changed direction towards Riptide Beach. The sound of the ocean was just loud enough there that she would be able to quiet her thoughts, and dip her paws into the cool water.
She hadn’t taken into account the possibility that someone else would be there. She froze in her steps as the sight of the older she-cat, her golden tabby pelt seeming to glow in the warm afternoon sun. Eyes widening, Coralfrost debated on fleeing in the opposite direction, or approaching the older fighter. It was a dilemma she faced on a near daily basis, but the wave of loneliness that crashed over her set her paws in motion once more and she approached Tinyshark, quivering with nerves.
“Uhm, hi Tinyshark. I hope I’m not, uh intruding on anything..” Her voice was light, and shaky, but it was a step in the right direction. THe other she-cat appeared to be hunting in the shallows, a skill that had escaped Coralfrost despite her many attempts at it. Stepping forward, she caught the scent of a foreign entity and her ears went back. If there were to be a fight, she was less than useless, and she immediately regretted stepping outside of her comfort zone. Breathing in deeply, she recognized that scent of JungleClan and groaned. “We, uh, may have company?” Her voice rose in discomfort, and she looked at the tabby, wondering what to do.
Description sentence: lanky brown and white tabby with amber eyes
Appearance: Caddispaw is your regular run of the mill brown tabby. Perhaps the only thing that sets him apart is his white chest, and belly. The overall tone of the toms pelt is dark, his undercoat attributing to this, as well as the almost black tabby stripes that adorn it. The appretinces face is covered in tabby markings, save for a strip of white on his nose, and a spot under his left nostril. The toms two front paws are white, the back two tabby like the rest of his him. The most striking part of the tom is his eyes. Almost perfectly round, they carry wisdom and exhaustion far beyond his moons, dull to life, as if he has never known joy. Staring into his amber eyes may make you feel like you’ll never be happy again.
Personality: Unfortunately for Caddispaw, he found himself having to grow up faster than his siblings. Blame the absent mother, or simply the fierce loyalty he feels towards his younger siblings, but the tom is mature beyond his moons, and acts accordingly. Closed off from outside influence, the tom is increasingly evolving into himself, enjoying the fact that he can stay out of the drama that comes with being an apprentice, and focus on what he needs to do to become a warrior. This however has left him with little friends, aside from Cicadapaw who he pretty much lives for. He doesn’t understand jokes, approaching them logically, and basically ruining them in place of dissecting them down until he can make sense of them.
The tom is very open to criticism, and is rather easy to talk to about many things. There hasn’t been a topic that he has deemed taboo to discuss, and though he might not always have advice for you, he’ll try to help you through whatever is eating away at you regardless. However, the tom has low patience and gets irritated quickly, especially if you keep pestering after he has exhausted options to help you. He is also rather insecure about his place among his Clanmates and his own abilities. He hides this fairly well, trying to show that any criticism he gets he takes in and works to better himself, but really it eats away at him.
Caddispaw is loyal to a fault when it comes to his sibliings. They are his lifeblood, and he would die for them, and he has acted impulsively to protect them, whether physically or with his words. He hasn’t figured out how to show he cares without being aggressive when it comes to defending them, and he doesn’t take kindly to anybody teasing them even if it's all in good fun. Basically, while he tries to be there for his siblings, he is their worst enemy, injecting himself in conversations that have nothing to do with him, and checking in on them at rather inopportune times. Caddispaw doesn’t know what to do with himself when his siblings aren’t around.
The young apprentice holds a level of cynicism that would rival even the most ornery of elders. When anyone shows him kindness, he immediately starts questioning their intentions, and what they are trying to get out of it. He has a hard time believing that anyone actually wants to be around him, unless they want something, which also doesn’t go over very well in the whole making friends thing. The tom is especially skeptical of she-cats, both his own age and older than him, and this stems from his mother and her disregard for her kits.
Family: Honeyshark. Mother. NPC. Unknown. Father. NPC. Cicadapaw. Brother. played by wren Tarantulapaw. Sister. played by theodora
History: You are born to a she-cat that wants nothing to do with you. You are ignorant to this fact, merely trying to find comfort among the she-cat that you instinctively know is your mother. Your siblings are there, their scents will grow to be the thing you live for, but for now, all you want is your mother to lick your head and tell you she loves you. Your want will never be filled, and will shape you into who you are today.
You aren’t very old when you begin to resent the cat that brought you life, refusing to acknowledge that anyone so cold and absent could possibly have given birth to you. You watch your brother, Cicadakit, pine after the affection that you know he will never receive and you begin to feel fiercely protective over him. He is your responsibility, something that no one as young as you should have to take on, but you face it head on. You’d comfort him, talk to him about how much the both of you will accomplish when you are apprentices, how you would prove to your motherzxs that nothing she said or did would stop you from reaching your goals.
Fortunately for you, you are made of tougher stuff than your brother. While he got riddled with insecurities so thorough and deep, you merely walked away from your kithood with cynicism and distrust of she-cats. You want nothing more than for Cicadakit to grow away from your mother, to realize his worth outside of her scathing remarks and disgust, but you are helpless to truly help him. You vow to protect him from the harsh realities of the world, ensure that he makes friends that build him up, and to make sure that he always knows he is loved. You are his protector, his confidante, and he is your lifeblood. Nothing will hurt him while you are around.
His yellow eyes studied her, trying to gage her reaction, and felt a rush of relief when she cracked a smile and laughed lightly. So, she was able to express an emotion other than disgust and anger. That was definitely good to know. It would make everything a little easier. FOr the first time in a long time, the burly tuxedo warrior didn’t find himself attracted to her in the slightest, which was most definitely strange. Almost all she-cats appealed to him in one way or another, but there was nothing here. Perhaps it was her age, or her overall demeanour, but for once, Ospreystrike didn’t have to sit and figure out how he was going to make her interested in him.
“Well, you can’t blame me for trying.” He shrugged, the smile dropping from his face, replaced with a neutral expression, the one he wore the majority of the time. Truth be told, it was rather exhausting being charming and putting on a show all the time. He was a creature of logic, and even he knew that eventually, everyone got tired of pretending to be something they weren’t. Swiping his tongue on his paw, and running it over his left ear, the large toms’ whiskers twitched as she pushed the morsel towards him. “Sharing food? We’re practically mates now.” He looked at her quizzically, trying to figure her out. But he ate the rest of the corpse all the same, grateful for food in his belly.
“Lucky you then,” pausing to lip his licks, Ospreystrike glanced towards the activity happening at the entrance to the camp. “StarClan must have laughed when they gave me a mostly black pelt. It attracts the heat like no other.” The tom made a face, but he spoke the truth. The white patches on his pelt did nothing to keep the warmth at bay, and it generally took him a good hour to cool down after the sun sank past the horizon. “Maybe it’s a she-cat thing. Not feeling the heat I mean.” He couldn’t figure out if she was being serious, or if she was putting on a brave face, and not wanting to admit that she too had a weakness.
It was far easier when she was in the camp. Excusing herself to make dirt, or suddenly ‘remembering’ that she had a patrol to go on. But out here in the territory with one cat she was crushing on, and another she barely knew, she was trapped. Coraalfrost was way out of her comfort zone, and felt like she was once again intruding on something that didn’t concern her. She glanced up briefly as he asked about the flowers, a very curt nod of her head her only response. Would he too join in on the cats that mocked her for something that brought her joy? Of course he wouldn’t, at least not then, not with Tinystar standing only a rabbits length away. No, he would more than likely wait until he was alone with her to make the comments. Great, someone else to avoid.
She continued to stare at the ground even after Newtstripe spoke again, her ears burning. It wasn’t him, she wanted to say, it’s me! I’m the problem, I’m always the problem! But she remained silent glancing away from the ground and standing up, to weave her frame through the stems of the flowers. Perhaps if she just slunk away, the two of them would forget all about her, and she could slip off to some remote location and have a pity party. But Tinystar seemingly had other plans. her voice sliced through Coralfrost, awakening the butterflies that had grown silent at the appearance of Newtstripe and she was thankful for the cover of hibiscus. She moved out of the flowers, and felt the chiefs pelt brush against her, sending a wave through body, electric yet not unpleasant. Opening her mouth to speak, she gaped at the chief then the tom cat and smiled nervously.
“Uhm, ok?” In that moment, Coralfrost wasn’t entirely sure she had another favourite flower. All she could think about was the way Tinystar’s pelt felt against hers, and the heat that radiated through her body. She would’ve been fine taking Tinystar to the lilies that tickled her nose and the pollen that painted her nose yellow and orange, but she wasn’t sure about Newtstripe. The last thing she wanted to do was give him more ammo to use against her in the future. Clearing her throat, the scrawny she-cat flicked her tail at the same time her shoulders rose and fell. “There’s uh, really only these ones, I guess, uh.” Pausing, she brushed past Newtstripe and looked out over the grass. “Do you have an, uh, favourite flower, Newtstripe?” Her words came fast and jumbled, originally meant to be addressed to Tinystar, but the young she-cat found it near impossible to form a sentence and think about her at the same time. What is happening to me?!
The simple pleasures in life usually occurred in the evening. They were as simple as not being assigned a morning patrol, and the burly tuxedo tom was able to relish in the fact that he was not named last night. He had snuggled into his nest, still nursing his battle wounds from his tiff with one ornery young she-cat, and slipped off into a slumber. As usual, his sleep was disturbed; images of his father falling from the face of the cliff vivid and patronizing, the bloodlust he felt standing over the white she-cat, surging through him. Despite these nightmares, the tom slept better than he had in awhile, and woke up in an uncharacteristically good mood.
He slunk out of the warriors den, proceeding to stretch out his limbs, wincing at his sore shoulders, before settling down to groom his usually impeccable pelt. Starting with his chest, the tom kept an eye on the activity that was going on around camp, enjoying the silence that mornings usually brought upon the camp. Apprentices were out with their mentors, dawn patrollees were sneaking a quick nap before continuing about their day, and then there was Brindlebear - the obstinate she-cat that seemed to permanently be in a bad mood. She was a tough nut to crack, and Ospreystrike wasn’t really sure if he even wanted to attempt it, but there was also something about her that drew him in. How could someone wake up every morning and decide to walk around with a storm cloud over their head all day? It seemed like an awful lot of effort to him.
As the she-cat snapped at him, the large warrior stopped what he was doing, ears swiveling back and his eyebrow cocking. Had he really been staring at her long enough for her to notice? Whoops. The tom gave his shoulders a quick once over before standing up and sauntering over to the dark grey she-cat, dipping his head in greeting, a cocky smile on his face.
“My sincerest apologies, Brindlebear,” he began, seating himself down in front of her. His long black tail flicked over his paws, and he tilted his head to the side as he studied her. “I didn’t mean to stare, though I couldn’t help but notice that you look positively radiant today. Someone must have slept well, despite the heat.” Ospresystrike remarked, letting a lazy smile replace his cocky one. Perhaps what the she-cat needed was some friendly banter, and a few easy compliments usually went over very well with the she-cats.
General Activity Level: I am able to get on the site at least once a day, and I lurk in discord most of the day.
Character Name: Crackling Fire Age in Moons: sixty-two moons Rank Applying For: Kingdom Shaman
Why Does Your Character Fit the Role?:
empathetic. as someone who was chosen to care for the cats of the kingdom, it only makes sense that they would have empathy towards their companions. whether it be an injury that scares a young cat, or an emotional struggle, crackling fire is there to ensure that you are able to work through it. he speaks gently, and has perfected the look of interest to make sure that they know he is listening. he has many moons under his pelt, and with it, the ability to relate to many situations without coming off as condescending - usually.
conscientious. the tom is very particular when it comes to the things he says, and just how he says it. he knows that saying the wrong thing can make an otherwise simple conversation ten times worse. the tom isn’t one to downplay an injury however, but he approaches the subject carefully. he pays attention to the way he carries himself, hoping to instill in his fellow mates confident in his abilities. the tom is also very aware of his own weaknesses, and has no shame in apologizing for something he may have done wrong. he takes great pride in his work as shaman, and does everything as thoroughly as possible to avoid potential complications in the future.
confident. through his many moons, the tom has developed an easy confidence about him. his paws move with ease when helping his kingdom cats, and the look of concentration is unwavering. he has long since moved past the time of questioning himself, and the right way to treat someone, and just trust himself to make the right call. when offering advice to the crown ruler, he treads a little lighter, but never apologizes for overstepping if he believes that he is in the right. he makes an effort to think through what he says when it comes to giving advice so that when he does offer it, he can say with certainty.
independent. ever since he was young and chosen to be trained as shaman, the tom has thrived on his own. he had no issues going his own way, and discovering himself through exploration. he very rarely asked for help, opting to observe as much as possible so that he didn’t have to rely on anyone else. because of this, the tom can come off as aloof, but he is far from it. he merely enjoys his alone time, but isn’t against spending time with his companions and getting to know them.
judgmental. while the tom cares for his clanmates when it comes to their injuries and illnesses, that doesn’t stop him from judging you on how you acquired them. while he may not outright say what he is thinking to your face, he isn’t above making back-handed comments - after you’re feeling better. the tom also has no time for gossip or drama, and in this regard, he has no issues voicing his opinion if he thinks you’re acting like an idiot. the tom also has an issue with same sex couples, but even though he strongly disapproves, he would never dream of denying treatment, but he just may not be as nice to you as he is to others.
aggressive. now, while he is shaman and dedicated to helping those of the kingdom, he can be more than a little aggressive when it comes to getting his way. he also isn’t afraid of fighting, and has been known to go a bit over the top in the past. he is a passionate conversationalist, and has no qualms about getting in your face if he strongly disagrees on something; he has never struck out at a fellow kingdom dweller, but he has come close to it. his hatred for those that aren’t from the kingdom is when you really see this side of him shine. he’s not afraid to put you in your place even if you mean no harm.
grumpy. the tom doesn’t mean to be a sour puss, but he’s pretty much seen enough in his life to know that there isn’t always a light at the end of the tunnel. so many things can go wrong during the course of the day, and with that weighing on his mind, he finds it very hard to not be grumpy most of the time. the tom practically walks around with a storm cloud over his head, grumbling about the younger cats, and how careless they are. he’s your typical grumpy old man, that secretly loves all the little tykes.
anal retentive. the tom is very particular about the way he does things, and the way he wants things done. all of the herbs he uses is organized meticulously, and he always plans out his day from the moment he wakes up. he knows where he is going to go to find herbs, which cats he would like to accompany him, and how many of a specific herb he is going to collect. when things go awry is one of the biggest contributing factors to his grumpy nature, as it throws off his entire day and he feels like things are out of his control
Roleplay Sample:
Ominous clouds rolled over the mountain, shrouding the terrain in darkness. Birds of prey screeched in frustration as their prey burrowed deep before taking off towards their nests away from the storm that was brewing, and winds carried fine dirt particles and small rocks cascading down the mountain face. Besides the howl of the wind, the territory was eerily silent, the last echo of an eagles call fading to nothingness. Trees struggled against the force of the currant, and a lone orange pelted tom maneuvered his way across the crag, seemingly unfazed by wind ruffling his pelt. He was used to the unpredictable weather of the Kingdom, and there were just some things that couldn’t be avoided. He had laid out his plan for the day, hours before and a little storm wasn’t going to stop him from gathering the herbs that he was low on.
Shouldering his way between two boulders, the tom took in a deep breath to try and locate the borage that he was certain was growing there. There had been so sign of coughs, nor rises in body temperatures as of yet, but with the weather changes, Crackling Fire was certain that colds would be soon to arise. The tom was nothing, if not practical. An unprepared shaman was about as useful as a newborn, and a cough or fever running rampant through the Kingdom could mean insurmountable disaster. Deaths from something preventable wasn’t something he wanted on his conscience. Flicking his tail at the dark thought, Crackling Fire nipped off a couple of leaves. Once he took these back to camp, he would take another inventory of the herbs he was running low on, but for now, it was time to head back to camp.
---
Dipping his head to one of the Kingdom cats, the large orange tabby slipped into his den, shaking out the chill in his pelt. Stepping lightly over the vacant nests, the tom made his way to the back of the den to stack the leaves in their rightful palace. It always brought him great joy to see the way his stores were organized, each herb in their specific place, easily distinguishable. It gave him a visual of what herbs needed replenishing, and which ones were simply rotting away. It always annoyed him that certain herbs decayed faster than others, and no matter how meticulous he was about storing them, there was no combatting their demise.
“Waste of perfectly good herbs.” Grumbling under his breath, the large tom stomped towards the entrance to the den, ears flicking back in surprise at the young knight standing just within the den. Cocking his eyebrow, the older toms keen eyes did a quick scan of the others’ frame to see if there were any glaring injuries. Several long moments stretched between them, the knight looking sheepish, Crackling Fire waiting for him to speak.
“Well, what is it?” Crackling Fire grunted, gesturing to one of the nests. Stubborn knights. The thought rolled through his mind, a familiar one that popped up almost everyday. The black knight limped towards the nest, and sat down, extending his paw. Eyes moving from the toms face to his paw, the tabby moved closer, and sniffed it. “You wrenched your claw. Alright, no need to worry. I've done that more than once in my life. A little aloe vera and a cobweb wrap should do the trick. Give it a few licks for me while I go collect what I need.” Smiling warmly, the shaman slunk to the back to grab the herbs.
“I feel like a mousebrain. I got my claw stuck in a felled log, and instead of trying to ease it out, I just yanked.” The knight spoke quietly, shame evident in his voice. Crackling Fire chuckled lightly and began to squeeze out the aloe vera with one of his paws.
“You aren’t truly a cat of the Kingdom until you’ve pulled at least one of your claws out. I once lost all the claws in my front paw trying to dig up chervil. No need to feel ashamed.” Deftly, the shaman brought his paw slick with the juice to the paw, and lathered on a generous layer. The tom sighed a breath of relief, obviously satisfied with the effects already. Wiping his paw on the nest to get the excess off, he picked up the piece of cobweb and with a few fluid movements, wrapped the paw. He studied his work for a moment, and then nodded with contentment.
“There, you’re all set. Just be mindful of it for the rest of the day, by tomorrow you should be as good as new. Next time though, use your brain and don’t go yanking your claws out of tough places.” Flicking his tail in dismissal, the shaman turned away from the knight to discard the remnants of the aloe vera. Knights, they never learn, do they?
Other Info: I have roleplayed several medicine cat positions in the past. I also hold a leader position and a medicine cat position on another site I am currently on.
so coral is my sweet, little eccentric creature that is basically a bundle of nervous energy and doesn't really know what to do with herself half of the time. she likes to sit back and observe what goes on around her, rather than actively participating in conversation. because of this! I think that coral would be drawn to rose. the way he carries himself would intimidate her, but he might just be the right cat to pull her out of her shell a bit more, and I can see her actually being herself around him. I think they could be really good friends, if for no other reason than their both a little weird.
It was a small thing to feel validated for the simple things in life. Never before had someone taken an interest, whether mocking or sincere, and the amount of peaceful joy it brought her was unrivaled. Perhaps this is what it felt like to be friends with someone, to have someone to talk to about things that made one happy. It was foreign but not unpleasant, and Coralfrost wondered if not she would be able to call Tinystar her friend. That would definitely win her some points among the other warriors.
Her ears burned at the other she-cats words, her own lost on her tongue. Tinystar liked the same kind of flowers as her! What were the chances? There were numerous island flowers that had piqued her interest, but none quite like these. Her mind danced with visions of her bringing flowers to the pretty calico, if for the only reason to see her yellow eyes light up. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be a moment shared between warrior and Chief, something that no one would be able to take away from her, regardless of the harsh words the other fighters might have for her.
“Uhhh..” The arrival of Newtstripe was unexpected, and the images of her and Tinystar were rudely interrupted, replaced by her demons once more. She shrunk away from him, her once high tail, dropping to the ground, and her claws extended into the ground for comfort. Face falling almost as quickly as her tail, Coralfrost watched as the tom placed the flower she had so carefully picked out behind the Chiefs ear, and a sharp pang struck her heart. His movements were so easy, so assured, and the way the perfect description of Tinystar rolled off his tongue left her feeling insignificant and intrusive.
She was a fool to think that her and Tinystar would ever share something as intimate as a friendship. Coralfrost cursed to herself, and allowed her gaze to meet the she-cats for a moment before she stared at the ground. What she had said sounded stupid, so kitlike. Coralfrost had been able to trick herself into believing that what she did was normal with the validation of Tinystar, but it was still just as strange in the presence of another. Her sanctuary among the chaos of the Clan was ruined, everytime she came here, she would think of Tinystar and Newtstripe. She looked up from the ground at her precious flowers, her heart heavy.
Your Name: diesel Your Current Characters: coralfrost (tc), ospreystrike (jc), fern that sways in wind (tribe) Do you have any high ranks? If yes, would you like to relinquish any? n/a Do you wish to archive any characters/threads you have on the go? nopers
the itch had she had attended to only moments before was persistent. like a tick buried in the pelt of a guide, fern tried her best to ignore it. however, when one tried to ignore something as annoying as an itch, it always wound up being the only thing they could focus on. up came her foot, her head cocked to accommodate, and while her attention was focused on that, she missed the tom shaking his head at her question.
when she finished, she cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to ask if he had heard her. she had her own habit of being rude, but usually, she didn’t blatantly ignore someone when they spoke to her. she was about to say just that when he rose and turned towards the entrance of the camp, the look over his shoulder somehow inviting. fern could be petty, but the fight in her had been used up to draw herself out of bed. ah well, there were worse things than having company on a hunt. “mornin’ stingray.” she quipped as the lithe torbie approached, always somewhat amused at how dainty he appeared. the juxtaposition of his light pelt and size to her dark and large frame made her wonder if this was what it felt like to have a swabbie nipping at her heels. “i’m good, tired. i think we are heading out?” her tone took an upswing as she glanced back at the black tom. she wasn’t entirely sure if he was inviting her, or checking to see if she had taken some kind of hint to leave him alone. “would you, uh, care to join us?” she had had little interaction with the witch, gods be praised. her injuries had never warranted care above keeping them clean, and the thought of hanging out where all the boring herbs were didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. why anyone would want to waste their days playing with plants was beyond her. fern wasn’t a dumb cat though, and fostering a relationship with the witch may be in her best interest. she offered him a bright smile, and rose to her paws, hopinhg firefly wouldn’t mind that she had extended the invitation.
it never failed. just as the she-cat found herself drifting off once again, the rustle of a nest brought her back to reality. annoyance flickered in her eyes and she glanced in the direction of the noise, making eye contact with the older black tom. as he dipped his head to her, she made a mocking jerk of her own, and then huffed, dropping her chin back onto her paws. she squeezed her eyes shut, and begged the gods to have sleep welcome her, but knowing that she was literally the last one still in her nest, needled her brain. she could only imagine what tempest would think about the young navigator neglecting her duties. it wasn’t exactly confidence inspiring, to say the least.
with an audible groan and a few choice words, the she-cat forced herself to her paws, pieces of her nest falling from her out-of-control pelt. she gave herself the once over, and decided that grooming right now was just too much work. she’d probably be heading out soon anyways. the redundancy of the task wasn’t that appealing. instead, she slunk over to firefly, and gave him a groggy smile. she wasn’t big enough to apologize to him for her rudeness only moments before, but hoped that the smile would gain her some forgiveness.
“mornin’.” yawning, fern brought her hind leg up and scratched behind her ear, sending more pieces of debris flying from her long fur. she looked a hot mess, no doubt, but everyone was so preoccupied with their own lives she doubted any of them would notice. as she put her leg down, she glanced at firefly’s pelt with jealousy. short-pelts always seemed to require much less work, yet his always looked well kept. how anyone had time - short fur or not - was beyond her ability to comprehend. “not assigned a patrol either?” she wasn’t well acquainted with the older tom, though they had gone on patrols together before. she tried to remember if they had ever actually held a conversation, and came up with nothing. perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, the gods only knew how badly she was lacking in friends.
Some said it was the opportunity to start anew, throw away all the woes of yesterday and breathe life back into oneself. Kits often played in the soft rays of sun that danced across the opening to the camp, and guides spent their morning soaking up the warmth. Daybreak was full of undiscovered potential, and a gift from the Gods. Those that awoke to the sun cresting the horizon should be thankful that they made it through the night, and take full advantage of the life they were allowed to continue.
Fern thought that was a load of fox-dung.
Mornings were hard, regardless of how inspirational some wanted to be. Her never-ending plague of questions about what else laid out there, just beyond her reach kept sleep away for the better part of most nights. When the she-cat did finally fall asleep, the length of time was never long enough. Fatigued and groggy, the large dark grey tabby would stretch and groan, eyes bleary from lack of sleep. It was an ordeal just to get out of her nest, and most mornings all she wanted to do was slap her tail over her eyes and slip blissfully back into her dreams.
Unfortunately for her, the Tribe didn’t stop just because she was lazy.
Swabbies launched from their nests to find their navigators, eager to start that days training. Kit-mothers soothed the cries of their hungry kits, and patrols were sent out to replenish the fresh-kill pile and check borders. She watched all of this with mild interest, her burly frame tucked into a ball, her tail flicked over her nose, her piercing amber eyes the only indication that the young navigator was awake. She remembered once when she was that eager. When the thought of training with Rain was enough to light a fire in her heart and get her in motion. That fire had long since gone out.
Fern’s jaws parted in a massive yawn. She knew she had to get up, make herself useful, or at the very least, get something in her belly. But her nest was so warm...