there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Oct 21, 2023 18:09:46 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/52R2g6S4/hazelstreamposting~png | hazelstream, Pick a star on the dark horizon
and follow the light.
You'll come back
When it's over...
No need to say goodbye
[open to any PC cats!] |
The hillside is barren and the tunnels are chilly, but that's just how leaf-bare is. When newleaf comes, the prairies will be filled once more with blooms and a haze of pollen as the world awakens from its slumber. Still, there's a type of quiet beauty to the white world... Like a soft, white pelt curling around the nest of the world, Hazelstream decides, moving silently through the snow. There's a bit of ice mixed in, so the trek up Rosemary Hill is trickier than normal, but even slipping and shuffling, the willowy tunneler does not make much of a sound. Their short pelt is thickened against the cold, but it would be nice if the sun could peek out from between the clouds at some point and check on those down below. Shaking their chocolate pelt, they reach the top, empty-pawed but having left their duties for the day behind to spend some time with the dead. Their grandfather - bless him - was getting too stiff-boned to even make it very far out into the clearing most days; it was becoming a bit disheartening to Brightstream and so Hazelstream had promised to visit for him a moon ago. The fresh scent of another cat tickles their nose as their round the tree, so they're not terribly startled when they spot someone else. "Hi." They murmur, the sound carrying much easier in the gentle, peaceful silence of the area, pausing to give a closed-eye beam. |
|
|
|
Post by owl on Oct 24, 2023 14:49:47 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/dBmhH7Z/snail~png | snailpaw i think that you're worth holding on to
|
Snailpaw enjoys the chill of leafbare weather, despite their thin coat. They like the crunch of snow under each pawstep, and find it easier to distinguish prey amongst the all-white landscape. Well, apart from the rabbits of course. Their coats changed to white just to make it harder for cats to catch them. But we always find a way to! The rabbits can't outsmart us. The young apprentice wasn't the best hunter, but they enjoyed it. Especially when they got to work as a team. But today she was alone—thankfully, not hunting. Turtlewhisker had given her a few hours free of training, to Snailpaw's surprise. Sadly, Buglepaw was deep in the tunnels training, and so was her brother Fuzzypaw, so she'd been left to her own devices. And on a stroke of inspiration, they'd decided to visit rosemary hill.
It wasn't far from camp, so they hadn't had to walk or navigate too far. And besides, she'd been to the hill before though never alone like this. She remembered it in leaffall, asking her father to describe all the flowers and what their mother's favorite flower was. There hadn't been many, but they'd found some for Cricketsong. It was that grave they sat at now (or at least, they were pretty sure), head bowed and eyes closed in thought. They felt a little bad they hadn't brought anything, but there were no flowers in leafbare! What would she bring, a rock? Maybe her ma liked rocks, she had been a tunneler after all... next time.
Snailpaw had never known their mother, but felt like they did through all the stories Beetletooth told. I hope it's warm in Starclan, Mama. It's pretty cold out here. I th- Their thoughts were interrupted by the softly mewed greeting of a cat, which made the colorpoint nearly jump out of their skin. Turning towards the clanmate, the best they could judge their coat to be was a warm brown. Fairly tall, too. Snailpaw was upwind, so they hadn't smelt them—but the scent met their nostrils now and was familiar. Tail above their head in friendly greeting, they meowed "Hi! You spooked me!"
She hadn't talked to this cat before, but remembered them from around camp. Hazelstream! They were a little older than her dad, she remembered, and also a tunneler. They hadn't expected anyone to be able to sneak up on their sharp ears, but they had been distracted thinking. And I think Papa said something about Hazelstream having really quiet feet. Good for the tunnels, because you can hear what's around and not the thump-thump of your paws. Even though Snailpaw was pretty sure, they weren't totally sure—they'd gotten cats confused numerous times before. So they thought they'd check. "You're Hazelstream, right? I'm Snailpaw!"
tags: bones
notes: prepare for some kitty chatting |
|
there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Nov 6, 2023 17:12:42 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/52R2g6S4/hazelstreamposting~png #s://i~postimg~cc/52R2g6S4/hazelstreamposting~png | hazelstream, Pick a star on the dark horizon
and follow the light.
You'll come back
When it's over...
No need to say goodbye
[lol hazel is always open to have their ear talked off] |
As she points it out, the chocolate tabby makes a point to step a bit heavier as the come closer; it takes conscious effort, but Briarpaw has been voicing her recent annoyance with how Hazelstream "sneaks up" on her, Ashpaw, and Patchpaw "all the time", so they've been trying to be more attentive. They'd hate to think others found such a trait of theirs annoying too but simply did not tell them... They purr in return, moving closer to the apprentice; they note how she's alone, sitting at a plot with a few of the flowers Leaf-Bare had yet to claim in a snowy grave. It was a sweet gesture and they paused before settling on the ground near them. The tunneler hums in agreement and nods at her question, chuckling, "I know... I like your flowers."They cross their paws and stare out across the rest of the hill; their grandmothers and grandparent won't mind if they're a bit delayed. Turning their wide-eyed gaze to peer over at the burial spot, they reach over and, mindful of the flowers, knock some of the snow off it. Perhaps, with luck, the flowers may have some leftover seeds that can take root here - that was what their father had done, back when his mothers died: buried some seeds from their favorite flowers shallowly over top their graves. They let a bit of quiet fall over the two of them, content with Snailpaw's body heart at their flank and hoping their own presence is more preferable to not - after all, they've seen that the young apprentice comes here usually with Beetletooth and Fuzzypaw or one of the tortoiseshell's other apprentice friends. Their tail sweeps a bit behind them, lazily brushing around the snow behind the pair. Thankfully, there's not much a breeze today to disturb the peace and quiet of the hill. |
|
|
|
Post by owl on Dec 7, 2023 10:36:14 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/dBmhH7Z/snail~png | snailpaw i think that you're worth holding on to
|
Snailpaw purred and gazed down at the "flowers" she'd managed to scrape up. It was half as much twigs and dying leaves, at least by how it had felt in her mouth. They hadn't really been able to pick out the white flowers amongst all the snow. "Thank you," she mewed, sweeping her tail around her paws as she sat. The pair fell into silence after that, the apprentice with their eyes closed and thinking. She was waiting mostly for Hazelstream to say something, but the other cat didn't speak. The chocolate cat was still warm at her side, though, a silent reminder that she was not alone.
I guess... I should talk? The hesitation was strange for the usually talkative young cat, but it almost felt bad to interrupt the quiet. However cold it was, it was peaceful. Surprisingly still, as if the world was holding its breath. It made the fur on the back of her neck prickle, but she didn't know why. It's nice. Eyes still closed, they turned to the warrior and decided to break the spell. "Who are you here for? You don't have to talk about them if you don't want to," the tortoiseshell paused, thinking. "But Papa says sometimes talking helps."
tags: bones
notes: short n' sweet
|
|
there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Jan 12, 2024 16:59:24 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/52R2g6S4/hazelstreamposting~png hazelstream, | | nonbinary (they/them)
prairieclan
tunneler |
They wanted to chuckle when Snailpaw turned and opened their mouth - the young apprentice was one of the chattier ones in the camp as well as the tunnels, even though Hazelstream had not had the pleasure to cross paths with the tortoiseshell point until now. There was nothing wrong with that, though; not at all. It just meant they knew their companionable silence could not, would not last... It still didn't mean it couldn't tickle them, reminding them of their littermate Palesong quite a bit. "...we're all able to decorate this hill however we want; these places are for the living, after all."Reaching out, they pressed a light, gentle paw against the young apprentice's leg; noticing her closed eyes, they turned to look over the hill. They smiled and purred, taking their time to trek their plots they were looking for, a pair and then one, alone, with an empty, waiting spot next to it. "...the grass and sleeping blooms have covered them." They admit, "So don't worry about looking for them specifically... But I'm here for several somones...""My grandfather, Brightstream, couldn't make the trip, not in this season," withdrawing their paw, they tucked it under their chest, staring at the solitary burial spot for several long moments before continuing, considering that someday he would be laid to rest there. "I promised to visit my gran, his mate, Smokeleap for him...""...but I'm also here for my grandmothers: Hawkrose and Meadowback." They glanced over at the pair of graves, laying next to one another now as they did in life. With all the tensions surrounding the tunnels, Pa hadn't had time to visit much lately... They'd have to let him know they'd been by later. "Your Papa is a wise cat... though it's fine, truly." Turning back to Snailpaw, they concluded with a beam that closed their eyes. "They're all in a much better place now." |
|
