ShadowClan Warriors' Den

[paedyn]

Risingmoon, Skyshade, and Cedarbranch existed.

[nyme]

I WILL BE MARRIED TO SILENCE

── ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ──

SWANTOOTH . 15 MOONS . SHE/HER . SHADOWCLAN
AGATHA KITTY + MIND READER

It's going to take her forever to fix this nest up the way she likes. Swantooth stares hard at the little moss bed she'd claimed in this den recently as if she means to suss out what's wrong with it just from looking. Only, she knows what's wrong with it, and it's not the appearance.

It doesn't smell right. It doesn't feel right. It's not her nest yet—and that's irritating. She just wants it to be hers already. Just wants it to be right.

The moss is removed gingerly, carefully, stacked aside for now. It's perfectly good bedding, just needs to be out of the way for now. The dip it had lined is smoothed by paw, carved a little deeper—she needs to lay down and get up and lay down and get up and lay down and get up, again, just to make sure she fits just right—, and when she's finished there Swantooth not-too-slyly nudges at the edges of the nests around hers, pushing any debris spilling from those sleeping spots away from hers. She wants space around her nest. To walk. It's fine if she does this. It's fine.

Everything is better, now. Loose dirt will need to be swept away and so will the irritting pebble she'd unearthed, but once the moss is pressed back into place, Swantooth's feeling a little less restless, a little less agitated. It still doesn't smell just right, but she'll see that fixed soon enough. The last steps of the chore are handled, paws whisking loose earth and that stupid pebble out, away. All better; all clean.

Swantooth steps into her nest and circles, 'round and 'round and 'round, before sitting down to bathe herself.


[ open ]

[furrensic]

SQUIRRELRISE
she/her. 14 moons. small, scarred russet molly with brown markings and yellow eyes.
[ chill of death, hulk SMASH ]

after her excursion to dawning woods, squirrelrise slips into the hollowed trunk that makes up the warrior's den. luckily, her heart rate has slowed down by now - whole journey back to camp riddled with paranoia from the rustling noise. it seems she'll always be hyper vigilant when it comes to her surroundings. at least I've gotten better, though.., she thinks. she really has improved and come a long way.

padding towards her nest, she neatly tucks the starling feather underneath the moss bed just for safe measures. she'd hate to lose it! after settling in her nest, she blinks when she notices something in her fur. a sandburr..? how'd that even..when..? huh?, she wonders before craning her neck to carefully pluck the sandburr from her pelt.

[ closed
#dingo2024 ]