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Post by bones on Sept 24, 2023 17:51:56 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/t4DTqCK3/lichenflight-POSTINGIMG~png | lichenflight, and if you lack the strength of your own...
honey, hold out your hands, and take it from an old man
[open to 1 clanless or RC cat!] |
A bit of snow slides off the banks and into the running water as Lichenflight crouches down for a drink. While leaf-bare wasn’t the best season to perform her weaver duties, Mallowbird had taught her that it was the time to check on the trees in the territory; to climb up as many as one could fit in a day and clean away cracked or broken branches as well as check on any growing saplings – the clan couldn’t afford to let the next generation of trees perish in the snow. Her white paws feel a bit numb from clearing the white, frozen flakes away; today had been mostly investigating how various stages of young trees were doing near the border, especially those racing to fill the gap in the canopy left by the tree bridge. She’d cleared a few broken limbs off some of them – likely from a spooked deer rushing past – and noted a few dying trees that could get knocked over when newleaf and her storms come about. It was a rather productive day… Though the biting cold and lack of sun is making the weaver feel her age a bit more than usual. Some portion of her leg gives a snapping pop, not unlike a twig breaking underfoot, and though it doesn’t hurt, the sound echoes noticeably across the flowing river and the silence of the snowy woods behind her only seems amplify the sound. She huffs a bit, ears twitching, and closes her eyes to enjoy a refreshingly chilly drink from the border. After a few laps, though, her ears perk up, but she doesn’t bother to do much more than wave her tail in greeting at the sound of footsteps on the other bank. |
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Post by venus on Sept 25, 2023 13:31:05 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/ltWkoJA~jpg | cinderflame On the search for prey. |
The rushing of the river echoed through the clearing, the tom licking his lips as he realized how thirsty he was. Fluffing up his thick coat, Cinderflame headed toward the water. Movement caught his attention as he noticed a gray she-cat on the opposite bank, waving her tail at him. He looked at her curiously, wondering if her friendly gesture was genuine. The other two clans hadn't exactly been pleased with his clan since the fight. Privately, Cinderflame couldn't blame them. Wolfstar's actions had been harmful to all the clans.
Fur flattened, he would approach the river and lap at the freezing waters before glancing back at the other feline. "Greetings, how's the hunting?" He asked politely. It was better for all that they tried to mend things with MistClan and PrairieClan, right? |
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there i go, turn the page
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Post by bones on Oct 4, 2023 18:11:28 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/t4DTqCK3/lichenflight-POSTINGIMG~png | lichenflight, and if you lack the strength of your own...
honey, hold out your hands, and take it from an old man
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At the sound of a voice, her good eye slipped open and she finished her drink; licking her lips, the older molly straightened up and offered an easy smile to the Ridgeclan tom. A few, rare flakes trickled out of the overcast skies, one of which land on her ear. Flicking it off, she gave herself a hearty shake despite no really needing it. “No huntin’ t’day, m’fraid.” She chuckled, peering past him, noting he was alone. Good, it’d make any genuine friendliness easier to maintain. “Just stretchin’ the ol’ bones, doin’ mah weaver duties, that sorta thang.”“How’s it going for you?” Since he asked – or, rather, assumed, she pinioned good-naturedly – he must be on the prowl. Big tom like that, she was both offering common courtesy and genuinely curious how his dark pelt had fared on the snowy, rocky land that Ridgeclan called home. She shifted and, as a bit more snow fell into the running water, she watched it rapidly melt and get carried off downstream, joining the rest of the chilly flow over the waterfall. From there, her gaze tracked back upstream to the looming, tree bridge. Such a shame, that a natural occurrence as simple as toppling tree could drive a clan to turning on others… Lichenflight gave herself a mental shake, shrugging off such thoughts and the rabbit-trail they tended to lead down. The past was in the past and it was best to move forward; a brighter future loomed past the horizon, if only cats chose to go towards it. “Where’re mah manners?” She chuckled, offering a one-eyed grin as she looked back to the tom across the border, “M’Lichenflight.” |
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Post by venus on Oct 15, 2023 8:38:57 GMT -6
#s://i~pinimg~com/564x/ae/d5/78/aed578895bf301df41bd72ac1959331d~jpg | cinderflame ooc: sorry for the late reply! |
"Well," He began, ears angling backward sheepishly. "As you can probably assume, I'm not the greatest hunter. I'm a Guardian, and with the luck I've had so far today, I figure I should stay in my lane." He would chuckle.
Cinderflame's brow would raise expectantly as the she-cat introduced herself. Lichenflight. He'd heard the name before, but never managed to put a face to it. "It's nice to meet you, Lichenflight. I'm Cinderflame." He would bow his large head in greeting before meeting her one-eyed gaze again. "If I may ask," the tom meowed. "What exactly do weavers do for your clan? I remember as a kit my father said you folks would weave me right into a holly bush and leave me there if I got caught sneaking onto your territory." His whiskers twitched in amusement as he remembered how scared he was when Oakflame warned him.
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there i go, turn the page
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Post by bones on Oct 24, 2023 11:47:55 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/t4DTqCK3/lichenflight-POSTINGIMG~png #s://i~postimg~cc/t4DTqCK3/lichenflight-POSTINGIMG~png | lichenflight, and if you lack the strength of your own...
honey, hold out your hands, and take it from an old man |
It'd been a long while - more than 12 moons ago - since she'd had a proper conversation with a Ridgeclan cat that wasn't... somewhat hostile. So she gave the big fellow across the river a bright, close-eyed beam and her attention, nodding to show she was listening, taking a moment to dust some of the snow off the ground before settling; she laid down on the bank's edge, crossing her legs and getting comfortably - her joints would ache if she stood a bit too long, and they'd crack if she became stationary, so given the choice she'd rather be comfortable. "Been a'while since ah spoke t'a Guardian." She mused, leaving the past in the past, "Yer a pleasant sort, s'the pleasure's all mine."She out right cackled at the description, able to vividly imagine some tom spooking their kits with stories of Mistclan's warriors in order to discourage any overly eager kits from wandering away from camp. Her own father had ribbed Volekit about Ridgeclan's eating little runts that braved venturing to close to the river and several elders - now gone, like her mentor - had scared many a denmate in the nursery straight with stories of how Ridgeclan fed trespassers to the great raptors of their territory in order to protect their own kits. "Ah doubt ah could trap y'in any bush now," the gray bicolor snorts mirthfully, blinking a bit of misty humor form her good eye, "Too much work! Yer pa's a'smart tom."After snickering at the mental image, she added: "Wish ah'd heard 'bout tha' 'fore - coulda kept m'neice in line wit' that kinda idea..."Pausing to stretch her legs out to the side, she gestures around them with her tail - at the snow, the barren trees and those with their needles still intact; further up the mountain most traveled, the less leafy-type of trees there were and the more pines and their kin were about; she found the latter a bit harder to climb, as their limbs weren't always as thick and strong as she'd like, but at least there were trees... Stars, she didn't know how Smallbreeze did, living in an area with little to no tree-cover... "Weavers tend t'the trees; duties shift from season t'season." she explained proudly, in a manner that showed she was used to telling - and teaching - others about the specialty rank, "Though during Leaf-bare s'more makin' doin' rounds, cleanin' up the trees 'n' keepin' th'snow from claimin' any saplin's." |
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