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WEATHER
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Leaf-Fall
Year 01 β Fall Moon This season is the wettest time of the year, with the most rain falling. The moisture is bringing out all sorts of moss and fungus. Fog is often dense in areas. The leaves are magnificent colours of auburns and golds. The salmon are running upstream now, and are plentiful. Temperatures vary, but it tends to get no warmer than 51Β°F/11Β°C and can get as low as 23Β°F/-5Β°C.
auto-skip timer: 72 hours thread synopsis: magpie and cotton go to explore the rocky ridges, looking for prey. the two are caught doing something that they shouldn't be doing, by something that is more than interested in taking a bite of two cats. but life is more fun when you take risks, right? content warnings: none yet, may be updated realm events welcome Magpie has often thought that if Summitclan wasn't on a mountain, then she would have ended up here on her own merit regardless. Even back when they were apprentices, she had wanted to make the climb up the ridges to see what was up there - prey, herbs, a view that could not be surpassed by anyhthing, the feeling that she stood atop the world. She would rather drag her brother up the mountain to show him what she thought and he would always cave, the two of them sharing a moment atop the world as far as they knew it.
Raven doesn't talk to her now. She doesn't talk about it. She moves on.
Cottonpaw is one of her new favourite cats to talk to. He's got that spark, the same one that she has, the one that whispers of a world beyond mundanity. It doesn't matter that he's still an apprentice, not that she's been a warrior for over long but she knows that she should start acting like it. But the older cats don't understand, and they probably still her as nothing more than a kit that is too excited about getting the vole, so to speak. They think her naive. It's not good to correct them.
It's a fine leaf-fall day, the wind is sharp but the rain stays away, blown away by the wind. She is bored and hungry, rather than simply pick something off the pile - they ought to do some work for themselves. She isn't his mentor, but the clan grows as more cats learn how to do things. By being selfish and wanting someone to keep her company on her endeavors, well-
She's not selfish; it's for the good of the clan. Starclan would be proud. They should be proud of her - she's everything that a warrior should be. One day, she'll be destined for greatness with stories and all of that thing that she really does think about, crave even, and then she will be happy. ( or maybe she won't. it doesn't really matter. life goes on. )
"You ever caught a rabbit?" She asks offhandedly, taking a few pawsteps in front of Cotton. She expects him to keep pace with her, despite being several moons her junior, almost as if he's done this trek hundreds of times before. "There's a few up here - they'll be turning white soon, and then they're a pain in your paw. You can run fast, can't you?" She struggles sometimes to outrun them and catch them, finding it better to ambush them instead, kill them before their long legs can take them away from her claws. But even she fails sometimes, more times than she'd ever admit to anyone else out in camp. They don't need to know.
"Someone else is teaching you though, not me, but do you wanna give a go? I'm starving honestly - shouldn't take us too long to grab something." Shouldn't take her too long, anyways. She has faith in him too, or faith in her ability to share.
cottonpaw was seven moons now, and while most cats wouldn't recommend someone his age go to the ridge, here he was.
of course, it wasn't as if he was alone.
over the last moon, he was exposed to many more summitclanners than before. working side-by-side with cats typically resulted in that. and of course, that led to meeting magpiestrike. she was a kindred spirit, a cat not too unlike himself in curiosity and desire to know, to learn, to discover what lay beyond the monotony of everyday life. she was one of the only cats he felt truly comfortable around, as though he could speak his mind unfettered by the idea of disloyalty to the warrior code.
the code was just a suggestion, after all. he followed it, sure, but there were parts that could be stretched... and he stretched them as far as possible. the last moon of his apprenticeship had been spent poking holes in the wording where he could, relying on his own growing proficiency in speech to help him. he was like his father in that way.
today, he really shouldn't be at the rocky ridge, but because magpiestrike was there, he was allowed. wind buffeted his pelt, and he welcomed it. the feeling of the breeze through his fawn fur was comfortable and thrillingβthe thought he hadn't been here before giving the young tom a slight rush. he explored most of the territory, but not here. never here. at least, not without his mentor.
being here without the tom for a moment was actually a good thing, considering how strict he could be.
"do you come up here often?" he asked, taking a look around, "i've never been. my mentor keeps saying he doesn't want me up here yet." not that that would stop him. "you think he'd know i could handle it by now."
"rabbit?" he echoed, trying to match her strides with his own. he wasn't too much smaller than her, luckily, making catching up not too difficult. "no, but i'm pretty fast. i'm up for a challenge," he purred, tail waving back and forth as he thought. rabbits were quick... he never had the luck of running across any, probably because he favored bird.
he opened his jaws, allowing the air to wash over his tongue. sure enough, he could scent rabbit on the windβupwind from him, it seemed, which was a good thing.
"just watch, i'll come back with a fat one." he grinned, dropping into a slow stalk as he moved forward, eyes darting to spot the prey.
"Every other day. Even when I was your age - used to come up here with Raven." She pauses, as if she's considering something. Whether Cotton notices it or not, she looks past him - down the mountain as if she's looking for someone who isn't there. It passes quickly and one of her ears flicked, and she looks back up towards the mountain again where they're going. "Have you met him yet? Walks around like he's got a stone in his paw and starclan themselves told him that he's going to die in the next moon or so." Despite everything, there's still a distinct fondness - warmth from a fire that is barely embers.
"Who's your mentor again? Copper?"Β She doesn't envy him really, but who would? Copper is about as traditional as they come and traditions leave a bitter taste in her mouth. No, she's quite content to be in a position where there's nobody to order her around anymore. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him - or just blame me. And, yknow, you never really know whether you can do something 'til you do it; life's too short." Her tail swishes behind her like a fox.
He seems confident though, so her pep talk is unneeded. She flicks an ear upwind as if to gesture that "it's all his", and she goes off in another direction - slightly to west to look for something else. There's never a shortage of food up his high, even if Cotton takes a rabbit she won't be going hungry. There's herbs too from what she's heard, but she never bothers to pick them up. The smell still puts her off them even now; a stupid idea that's stuck in her head that isn't the only one. It helps that the medical cats in Summitclan are abrasive on a good day; she can't help feel apathy for not helping.
"Go on, let's see you work kiddo." She calls, sitting back on her paws and grinning.
ah, ravenwatcher. A cat cottonpaw hadn't gotten around to meeting yet, but had seen at a distance. he gave a half-nod at that, tipping his head a little at the thought. he was a serious cat, very different from magpiestrike. he supposed that was the reason he didn't often see them together. it almost made him reflect on his own siblings, the distance he felt between them felt almost insurmountable at times. it wasn't for lack of cottonpaw trying, but he was painfully aware of the separation asterpaw, harepaw, and oatpaw felt from himself. darkpaw and applepaw, too, felt oddly removed nowadays.
he wondered if that might be something to ask magpie about in the future, but not now.
"not yet," he answered, and he left it at that.
"but yeah, copperclaw. he's a very serious cat. sometimes i feel like he wants me to be like him." aka, someone he wasn't. copperclaw was strict and serious, and cottonpaw was far more curious than his mentor seemed to approve of.
"i wouldn't want to throw you under the bear's claw, so to speak. he knows that i... explore," to put it lightly, of course. it wasn't as though he hadn't been punished for it before. "if anything, he'd probably be happy that a warrior came with me."
as he focused more on the rabbit scent, he crept over a ridge, keeping his belly close to the ground and his eyes wide open. as scattered as his mind tended to be, the tom managed to keep his attention as he slowly moved closer, keeping as still as possible. and then, as if to curse him, the wind shifted, and the rabbit he had his eye on perked, looked over at him, and shot off before he had a chance to get close enough.
"...damn." his tail flicked in annoyance.
but, with a shift in the wind came the scent of quail, and cottonpaw quickly changed aim, shifting his weight as he turned to move towards the scent. as he crested a ridge, he stared down at where a bird was picking at something on the ground, plump and delicious. he had no intention of letting this one go. the tom slipped over the edge, beginning to creep towards the quail on silent paws. [ stealth roll: 4 β success! ]
Paws crunched on the gravel of the treacherous rocky slopes, sending loose stones falling down the edge - ricocheting off of larger chunks of earth as they went. Its paws were large, but thankfully for anything that stumbled under them not as large as they would be, had it been fully grown. Despite adolescence, power still rippled under the shaggy fur covered in spots and stripes. Certainly one would not want to pick a fight with it. It may be young, but it begged the question - where was mom?
The young bobcatβs piercing yellow eyes scanned the landscape. It was hungry, looking for the next meal. Food. Hungry. Food. Hungry. The thoughts thrummed through its brain as it padded on, nostrils flared for any signs of a next meal. The wind was sharp, intensified by the elevation of the rocky ridges, but the bobcat was well equipped for this weather with the thick pelt it was protected by. It was in its prime. This was its territory.
The scent of rabbit whipped by it on a sharp breeze, and the bobcat flicked its fluffy ears as it tried to hone in on where it came from. Deciding on which direction the scent had come from, the bobcat began moving slowly, dropping to a crouch and moving quietly forward. It was coming up on a ridge now, the scent getting stronger as it continued. Suddenly, though, the scent trail dropped. It hissed in annoyance, a low and predatory gargle of a hiss. Food. Hungry. Food.
It was about to turn back, away from the ridge to where it had come from when something else caught its attentionβ¦The delectable scent of quail. Mouth watering, the bobcat continued to press forward. But, the scent became entangled with a different one. Perhaps two different scents, but they were similar. The bobcat was now about to go over the crest, not sure what he was about to come across.
"Mentors usually think they know what you need, what you need to be. I wouldn't pay him too much mind - learn what you need, forget what you don't." It had always worked for her, and besides, she's always been told that she has a talent for learning the wrong lessons from things. The best lessons in the world are learned from experience after all, being safe is not always better than being sorry. Is it a crime to want to know the world before you're old and whiskers are grey? "And don't worry - what's he gonna do to me? Chew me out? Make me help our grumpy medicine cats? Big deal."
She's not paying attention to Cotton when she looks through the rocks for a rodent of some sort, not exactly amazing prey worth bragging about, but she's not here alone. She has to make sure Cotton stays safe, so she does keep half an eye and half a ear out for trouble. Even so, there's not much that she can place her paws on, much to her frustration, and it's almost as if-
There's another scent on the wind, and Magpie realises that she may have bitten off more than she can chew.
It's just a bobcat - or at least, smells like just a bobcat. To her at least, it's just a bobcat. They're around here all the time and she's not scared of them anymore because she knows how to deal with them. She simply avoids them, chasing them away is a numbers game and she's usually just one cat. However, there is another issue in that she is not here alone and she knows that anything happening to Cottonpaw would indeed be a reason for her to be confined to camp as a punishment.
She can, almost, hear a voice in her head that sounds like her brother. She replies with equal venom that it's better to learn young how to deal with these things, and she's already making her way down the edges of the rocks as fast as she can without causing too much noise, close enough that she can hiss a warning, "Oi - be careful. There's something here." She doesn't elaborate on what the something is yet, but her head gestures towards above them.
Now she really does hope that he knows how to run.
rolled for senses - rolled a 4 [Roll #1: 4 - Success!] solsticeThe Realm
the tom stalked closer to his prey. as far as he was concerned, the quail's fate was already decided, especially as he continued forward. his pawsteps remained light as ever, and the tom seemed to slip along the rock like a snake, belly close to the ground and paws remaining completely silent. it was one of his best skills, after all. the tom wasn't the best hunter, wasn't the best fighter, but damn, was he good for an ambush. at the same time, he felt himself stumble slightly as magpiestrike appeared, caught by surprise.
stealth roll: 3 β success with complication!
it was unfortunate that cottonpaw's focus fluctuated in the way it did. another apprentice might've heard what magpiestrike said, but he didn't. at least, not completely. but, he did freeze, turning his head to look at her in confusion. what had she said? what was she talking about? she seemed almost alarmed, or at the very least, on-guard. he parted his jaws slightly, scenting the wind again. he didn't smell anything off. at least, he didn't think so.
and then suddenly, another scent carried on a crosswind. what was that? he hadn't ever scented anything like that before.
"what is that?" he spoke under his breath, luckily staying quiet enough not to spook the quail for now.
The air was gentle as it tugged at the bobcatβs long fur. It stretched a large head upwards to sniff, trying to understand the scents that were being carried on the breeze. The smell of the qual still stayed in the air, taunting it. The stomach rumbled again. Hungry. Food. Must eat. The fluffy predator hadnβt eaten in a couple of days, and priority above all was to get food.
It was contemplating heading over the crest now, but another scent was catching its attention. The scent of another hare - strong and very, very close. Taking one last reproachful glance in the direction of the other scents, the curiosity to find out what they were still lingering, it made a final decision. Food. Must eat. Very hungry. Food would have to come first, before exploring.
Following the scent of the hare that was now downhill, the big bobcat began making way back down the rocky slope, stones falling and trailing down with every step that it took. Today, the bobcat would not encounter the cats that were just over the crest. But the scent of the bobcat still clung to the side of the slopes, telling of the dangers that almost were.
Paws crunched on the gravel of the treacherous rocky slopes, sending loose stones falling down the edge - ricocheting off of larger chunks of earth as they went. Its paws were large, but thankfully for anything that stumbled under them not as large as they would be, had it been fully grown. Despite adolescence, power still rippled under the shaggy fur covered in spots and stripes. Certainly one would not want to pick a fight with it. It may be young, but it begged the question - where was mom?
