- 𝚎𝚕𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 [ˈelk-strīd] — 34 moons
𝖣𝖤𝖯𝖴𝖳𝖸. a massive black-brown maine coon tom with pale green eyes
location: camp | tags: silverstrike & eaglepaw mentioned
- The deputy’s eyes flickered open on their own accord, consciousness zapping into his body as suddenly as if someone had cuffed him over the head. Elkstride’s tufted ears were the first to appear from the mound of fur that made up his massive build as he leaned up, peering over his flank at the activity of the camp. Embarrassment washed over him and he hastily straightened into a sitting position, drawing a wide paw over his chest. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The remains of a mouse lay beside him, and he hastily buried them among the ferns that made up the camp wall.
While he wasn’t so sure it was very dignified of him to nod off, he wouldn’t deny that he was feeling refreshed, and his mind hadn’t felt this clear in days — besides, judging by the sun, he hadn’t been out for very long. The maine coon heaved a sigh and turned to groom dust and dirt from his thick pelt, still tarnished from the gopher hunting with Eaglepaw. A pleased expression crossed his face as the memory came back to him. Never would he forget the look on his apprentice’s face. I’m surprised he didn’t think I was going mad.
With his fur finally groomed to his liking, Elkstride stood and stretched. It was a lovely evening, no doubt, and for the most part the clan seemed to be suspended in a moment of peace. His stomach dropped when he suddenly noticed Birchstar was gone, but relaxed when he saw Morningflood slip out of the camp entrance; the she-cat seemed calm, and since she’d been put on this rotation, Elkstride figured she was just escorting the clan’s ancient leader on a walk. Though he didn’t really want to, the tom let the evening bliss soak into his fur as he gazed upwards into the rosy sky.
Wispy clouds played beyond the treetops, their silvery softness reminding him all too well of a certain she-cat. Oh StarClan, I pray she didn’t see me passed out like a great brute. Silverstrike’s apprentice was here in camp, so Elkstride figured she must be, too. His paws tingled at the thought of seeing her, a sense of urgency slowly taking hold. He’d been meaning to check up on her, and he knew by now that her well-being was of an importance not reserved to just anyone.
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- 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 [ˈches(t)ˌnət-fȯl] — 20 moons
𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖱𝖨𝖮𝖱. a tall, fawn-colored she-cat with light green eyes
location: camp | tags: slightpaw
- Ches strode rather ungracefully from the medicine den, meowing one last thank-you over her shoulder and trying to ignore that dull pain in her foot. Leave it to her to step on a thorn on the way back from camp — she’d told Wolfrunner and Dawnlight that she’d been chasing after prey, but really she’d just been admiring the way Slightpaw’s fur had been glowing under the lush haze of the setting sun. A niggling feeling had taken roost in her mind as her paw had been treated and wrapped up tight with cobwebs, a feeling that was slowly spreading through her body and giving her the notion that she might just burst into a fit of laughter at any moment. Something told her it wasn’t infection.
Sighing, Chestnutfall approached Slightpaw and gave the younger molly a touch to the ear with her nose to announce her arrival. “Grave news,” she said, hanging her head and shaking it softly, “I’ve only got a moon to live.” A smirk tugged at her lips as she peeked over at Slightpaw. Something warm and sparkly was bursting inside of her and in an effort to keep it controlled, a sound between a snort and a choke popped from her nose.
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- 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚙𝚊𝚠 [ˈlärk-pȯ] — 9 moons
𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖨𝖢𝖤. a golden tabby she-cat with blue-green eyes
location: camp | tags: windpaw
- The apprentice clutched a finch between her teeth, her paws kneading the earth beneath her as she tried to avoid looking in his direction. She’d spotted him almost immediately after returning to camp, her head turning such that Ravenclaw’s tail-flick ended up bapping her face and not her ear. But she wasn’t really paying attention anyway. Her mind was clicking and whirling away, trying to figure out how she should talk to him. Snapping back to the present, she had responded to her mentor with a sparkle of pride in her eyes before heading off to choose her meal.
Now her stomach was tight and her heart was slowly building up to a thunderous crescendo. Swallowing — and nearly inhalting a tuft of down in the process — Larkpaw began her approach to Windpaw and sat down delicately next to him, as if there’d been no planning behind it at all, absolutely not.
“I uh...I saw you training with Silverstrike earlier,” she said casually, not bothering to try to spit out an awkward “hi, how are ya?” “I don’t think anyone’s told you yet, but you don’t have to worry about ten million badgers attacking our camp.” She didn’t need to make her sarcasm obvious — Windpaw, of any cat, would know what it sounded like. Her words were a compliment of sorts, but never would she say it so blatantly. Her denmate was a hard worker, and she admired him for that, but somehow her most candid words always got all tangled up on her tongue and she could only dole them out wrapped in the coverings of humor, as if she had to trick herself into eating herbs by stuffing them into a succulent mouse.
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- 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊 [ˈə-mērə] — 30 moons
𝖮𝖴𝖳𝖲𝖨𝖣𝖤𝖱. a slender she-cat with glossy black fur and green eyes
location: camp | tags: sandtail mentioned; rainjaw, darkpaw (indirect)
- Amira’s curiosity had gotten the best of her at last. Only when she was sure that Sandtail was alright did she leave him to rest, slipping out once some other clan cat had come in with a thorn in her paw. Either the clan chose to ignore her or they simply didn’t mind her being here as the black feline crept along the edges of their home, observing quietly with a deep interest sparkling in the pools of her gaze.
Once upon a time, she’d been among these cats for a little while and yet many of their names and faces had slipped from her mind — it was an amusing thought, knowing that these souls hadn’t had enough of an impact to be remembered, but her dark humor stopped short when she finally spotted someone she did know. Well, she didn’t know the cat’s name, but it was a face she remembered clearly.
Merely a shadow, she stalked forward towards the pale calico with her tail flourishing to and fro. Amira was nearly upon her target when a squealing ball of fur appeared out of nowhere. Hissing quietly, she ducked into the camp wall, peering out to observe the two. The younger cat — an...apprentice? — had caught a beetle and was now showing it off to the older warrior. Amira’s whiskers twitched and she tilted her head. How odd.


