[.forever.]

Username: .forever.
Cat Name: Nightpaw, to be named Nightdapple
Clan: Tribe of Rushing Water
Rank: Warrior Apprentice

Gender: She-cat
Age: 8 moons
Prompt:

Quite simply, Nightpaw enjoys the feeling of mudstone, or slate, under her paws. The smooth rocks are often slippery but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying how water cascades off of them or the unusual shapes that are carved into them. You can usually find Nightpaw at the entrance to the cavern, staring up at the waterfall that is their camp entrance. Most cats would think she’s enjoying the mist of the water but instead she eyeing each rock above to see how they curve and spill over in perfect ways to hold together yet allow water to ripple away. Other times you can usually find her at the top of the waterfall standing on slate stones peeking up out of the river. She enjoys how reflective they can be.

[liightning]

Username: liightning
Cat Name: Emberpaw
Clan: DeltaClan
Rank: apprentice

Gender: she-cat
Age: 8 moons
Prompt:

Emberpaw padded along the river, following her mentor, Vixensnow. The long-legged warrior had her jaws wide and ears pricked, alert for any sign of prey nearby.
The flame point suddenly halted, waving her tail, and Emberpaw managed to stop herself before she skidded into her mentor's hindquarters.
"Duck," the warrior hissed, crouching low. Emberpaw copied her, slipping into the correct hunting crouch without a moments' hesitation. Her mentor glanced back at her and nodded in approval before flicking her muzzle at the river on the other side of the reeds.
Emberpaw pushed through the swaying stalks, whisker-length by whisker-length, barely daring to breathe. One wrong move and the reeds would rattle, alerting the ducks of their presence. The jaw-watering, tantalizing scent of prey filled the air, and Emberpaw nearly licked her jaws at the thought of a plump, juicy duck for dinner. As she nosed the reeds aside, making not a whisper, she spotted her prey - a young duck resting just on the bank of the river, oblivious to the cat hunting it.
Emberpaw's eyes took a moment to observe the prey in its final moments still alive. The glossy feathers, pale brown with a light speckle of white, like the marsh being covered under a light layer of marsh-frost's first snow. Each feather, so perfectly outlined in fine detail, overlapping each other in a pattern.
Something gently but firmly brushed Emberpaw's leg - a nudge from her mentor, urging her to leap. She gathered strength in her hind legs, focusing on the duck before her - but it was too late. She'd waited long enough for the duck to sense her presence, and it jerked away, squawking in alarm. Her jaws closed around a mess of feathers, and the duck tore itself away. It slipped into the river and was gone in a flash, still shooting her glares with its beady eyes from across the water.
Emberpaw sighed as she rolled back onto her haunches, spitting out the few feathers she'd pulled out. Another miss.
"Distracted again?" Her mentor prompted, rising out of the reeds behind her.
Emberpaw picked at the grass, the soft downy feathers tickling her paws. She took failure seriously. Her ears flattened and her tail drooped. "I'm sorry."
Vixensnow didn't reply. Instead, she reached out and plucked something that was tangled in Emberpaw's long tortoiseshell fur, dropping it in front of her apprentice's black paws with a quick flick of her paw.
Emberpaw blinked at the feather, eyes wide with astonishment. A long duck feather, mostly brown with little speckles of white, a bit downy at the end - but it was different than the others she'd accidentally tugged off. Emerald green and turquoise blue tipped the feather, giving it a unique and magical look.
"There's always something good to everything," Vixensnow murmured gently as Emberpaw scooped up the feather with a paw, still marveling at its simplistic beauty. "Nothing will ever be perfect - so we must look for the beauty in simple things."
"The beauty in simple things?" Emberpaw echoed thoughtfully. The feather was light as the breeze in her paws and smelled of the marsh. The setting sun in the distance outlined the edges in molten gold.
Vixensnow simply smiled, her blue eyes full of wisdom and understanding. "Let's head back to camp. I'm sure there will be enough prey to go around."
Emberpaw bounded after her mentor, still pondering the advice, tossing it around in her mind like a kit playing with a pebble. Heavy, yet light. Smooth, yet unique. Simple, yet meaningful.
The beauty in simple things. The thought flashed through her head, quicker than a minnow slipping through clumsy paws.
She ran back, returning to the place where the duck had been. The feather was still there, lying on the grass, as if waiting for her.
She picked it up in her jaws with infinite delicacy and hared after her mentor. She thought about weaving it into her reed nest that night, having it tickle her pelt as she sank into her dreams.

[675 words]

[Desmond]

Sorry for the wait!

Username: zippo.
Cat Name: Scorchbriar
Clan: The Land of Three Crows
Rank: Scavenger

Gender: She-cat, genderfluid presenting
Age: 45 moons
Prompt: Scorchbriars' favorite rock is Basalt, which is a river stone formed when lava cools above the surface of earths' crust. They can range from dark green to a gray-black, but he prefers the black grainy ones most. He enjoys scouring the small pools branching off from the river of petals looking for the smooth stones to collect and bring back to his own den. They are known for retaining heat so Scorch lays them out in the sun during the day and sleeps on them at night to keep himself nice and toasty. Sense he started this little habit other cats had begun to notice, and other cold blooded cats partake in the tradition as well including the herbalist themselves. It's particularly helpful for sweating out sickness and fevers, and helping the ache of the elder cats' joints and bones. She is slightly jealous that this has become such a popular thing for the Crows, and often spends early mornings and late nights rummaging through the riverbeds to collect as many as she can for her own collection. However; whenever someone is in pain the guilt always gets to her and she ends up slowly giving out her collection so that every cat in the Land of Three Crows has a bundle of Basalt. Her passion for the rock has even taken over her job as Scavenger, as now she spends most of her work days collecting various river materials as she tries to find more Basalt. He is the number one go to for anything relating to the river of petals and has become a major asset to the herbalist.

---

"Scorch, I've run low on the heating stones, can you please find some more?" Doveshiver coo'ed with a smile, stepping out from the herbalist den.

"They're called Basalt" Scorchbriar mumbled to themselves before nodding, "Of course. I'll try and bring back a few more. Can I ask who's ill?" they straightened out their back and lifted their head to watch the young molly before them as they watched the rippling water of the blossom pools.

"No ones ill necessarily, but Dusty mentioned to Ash about his hip hurting again and Ash mentioned to Rosestorm, and well Rosestorm tells me everything, so" She laughed, glancing up to Scorchbriar who now suppressed a chuckle themselves. "I just want to make sure everyones okay" she smiled warmly.

"Yeah..." Scorchbriar nervously glanced to the side, "I know what you mean. I should get going, they're hard to find" they rambled before turning around.

"Scorch" Doveshivers' voice rang through, causing the tom to stop. "You're a lot like the Basalt, you know?" her voice wasn't teasing; it was soft, maternal.

"M-me?" He scoffed, glancing over his shoulder to her in wonder.

"Cold at first, but you warm up quickly" Doveshiver giggled at the blush that erupted from the cats neck to cheeks.

"Oh?" Scorchbriar turned around suddenly to hide their embarrassment. They took a few steps before stopping once more, "Dove?" he waited to hear her hum in response. "Thank you" they coughed to clear their throat and started off once more. The orange and black tom following the winding path of the river of petals deep into the chaos woods, all the while thinking of his beloved rock and beloved clan.

Congrats!