Lavenderleopard RiverClan Warrior
Killer Aptitude Tier 1
Flock Together Tier 2 Well Insulated
She / Her - 24 Moons
As Lavenderleopard began to respond to Goldfish in a polite manner, she settled down onto her belly and tucked her paws beneath her chest, her plumed tail at her side. ''I've taken Crowpaw and Deerpaw out for their territory tours, and I've added onto their information about the other three Clans. That's about it, though.''
The warrior blinked and gave her chest fur a couple of complacent licks. She could tell that the Lionheart was uncomfortable; it was obvious. But Lavenderleopard didn't say anything about it. Instead, she focused on something other than Goldfish's visible discomfort.
[ @Blaaze - lavenderleopard? more like lavenderloaf ]
Deerpaw :: he/him :: Riverclan
Deerpaw blinked open his eyes in the apprentices den with at first a slow, languid sigh. The air was cold, which made curling into his own fur feel all the more cozy. But the light had made it difficult to sleep-- ah. Light?
The sleepy slowness washed off of him in a nose-twitching rush of energy. It was far too light out, far too late in the morning and--
He cursed himself as he shook out his fur. He wondered if his mentor, Lavenderleopard, had already made her way out. Or, worse, if she had noticed his absence. He imagined getting chewed out for his lateness as he crept his way out to the Skyridge. Hopefully, she's not noticed yet.
And was it better or worse that when he emerged he saw her conversing with the Lionheart, Goldfish? On one hand, perhaps it had distracted her enough not to notice his tardiness, on the other, the idea of showing up late in front of a Lionheart in addition to his mentor only seemed all the worse.
Whatever they spoke about seemed to be serious enough, so Deerpaw lingered in the back for a moment, hoping against hope that his mentor perhaps would not notice him. Maybe then I can also claim to have been here the whole time.
Bump Policy: feel free! i promise i have our roleplay in my to-do list, im just lazy v-v
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Re: RiverClan Skyridge
Quote:
Originally Posted by iliri
Weepingwind short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | riverclan warrior | 31 moons
Holy stars, the warrior was undeniably exhausted. Every muscle in her body ached, a lingering reminder of the brutal fight with the otters. She could still feel the raw sting of her wounds, each scratch and bite burning despite the fact that they had been treated by their medics. The memories of the struggle replayed in her mind—the relentless savagery of the otters, the surge of her own fury, the fleeting, powerful rush of adrenaline. Now, though, all that remained was weariness and the quiet ache that gnawed at her bones. As Stormstar’s voice echoed across the clearing, Weepingwind forced herself to rise from where she’d been lying in the warriors’ den, watching her leader ascend to the Skyridge. Though the leaf-fall sun was weak, its light felt strangely warm as it bathed the camp, a stark contrast to the dark turmoil that had hung over them the past couple of moons. The tabby took a deep breath, steadying herself. The fight had left her bruised, but not broken. And there was a fierce pride in knowing they had driven the otters from their territory, even if it came at a cost. With every stiff step, she easily felt the weight of what they’d all endured together. When she finally settled in among her clan-mates, Weepingwind glanced around, noticing the fresh wounds and tired eyes of the cats that accompanied the fight. They’d been through so much, yet here they were, ready to stand by Stormstar again. And despite the exhaustion weighing her down, a spark of resolve reignited within her. They had faced the threat together, and they would weather whatever else came their way in the future.
Goodness gracious! Everyone who was gathering looked like mousedung at the moment. The weariness of everyone was apparent, as well as the low morale among the Clan. Most cats, including herself, were all scarred n' bruised n' bloodied from all these damn predator attacks. Her fluffy paws were heavy as she found her way toward the Skyridge to listen to whatever announcements that Stormstar may bring. Hopefully some ceremonies. They needed some new apprentices in the Clan. Maybe she'd get one of her own. The thought made her giddy! She'd always enjoyed working with apprentices, especially after that patrol with Seapaw and Aspenpaw. She'd had a fun time with those two little ducklings. But if they were really lucky, they'd get a new warrior in the Clan. Those seemed to be somewhat rare these days. Most apprentices disappeared or died before they finished their training. A pity. But no use dwellin' on things that are outta your control! That was her stance at least.
Peachspring mosied on over to a spot in the middle of the crowd, before scanning for someone interesting to strike up a conversation with. Peachspring was in a social mood. And the cat she decided to bother today would be Weepinwind. Peachspring had first noticed her bold display of strength and bravery in the otter fight, and it caught her attention. And, other than that the molly was objectively pretty. But then again, who wasn't pretty in Peachspring's eyes? "Well, hey there!" Peachspring greeted the tabby as she invited herself over. "How're ya healin' after that otter fight from the other day? You don't look too rough compared to some of our clanmates." She joked with her heavy southern drawl.
Weepingwind short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | riverclan warrior | 31 moons
At first, the tabby thought that she wasn't gonna be assisted by any ounce of company within the gathering crowd. Don't get her wrong, Weepingwind didn’t mind sitting by herself, but sometimes a familiar face could make the weariness of a long day feel a bit lighter. She was still settling into her spot, the weight of exhaustion pressing on her limbs, when a soft yet bright voice called out, being both equally warm and familiar. Both ears averted towards the direction of Peachspring’s voice as it carried over with its easy, southern drawl, and Weepingwind felt a flicker of surprise—and relief—at the interruption. Turning, she caught sight of the ginger warrior’s cheerful expression as Peachspring made her way over, her eyes shining with a welcoming glow despite the battle scars marking her pelt. Peachspring’s fur was as ruffled as anyone’s would after the recent string of attacks, yet she still moved with her signature bounce, a certain ease that almost seemed to defy the tough times the clan had been facing as of late. It was as if she carried her own small lamp of light with her, a presence that managed to cut through the permeative tiredness hanging over the clearing. Hearing her attempt to joke with the older molly managed to coax a faint smile from Weepingwind. Despite everything, Peachspring somehow found a way to brighten the moment.
Weepingwind took a second to glance over Peachspring’s own fresh scratches and scrapes. Even with the bruises, there was a resilient energy about her, a liveliness that felt contagious, if only just a little. “Oh, I’ll live,” she said, offering a chuckle. “Those otters put up a hell of a fight, though. I feel like I’ve rolled down every rocky slope in the territory and then some. Might not look as rough as a few others, but I’ve got the aches to prove it.” There was a subtle admiration in her gaze as she looked at Peachspring. Despite everything they’d all endured, Peachspring hadn’t lost her spark—not even a little. It was comforting in a way, like a reminder that not everything had to be lost to hardship. “And you?” Weepingwind asked, tilting her head with a faint smile crossing her facial expression. “Still managing to keep that bounce in your step, I see. You’re looking as lively as ever, like those otters hardly put a dent in you.” She paused, her voice softening a bit. “It’s good to see, honestly. We all need that around here.” In Peachspring’s presence, Weepingwind found a small respite from the weight pressing on her shoulders, a brief moment of shared strength and lightness amidst the trials. Even as cats continued to gather around, Weepingwind felt just a little less alone, grateful for the unexpected company beside her.
Re: RiverClan Skyridge
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