Written in the Stars

resource management or something like that | p

Apprentice

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bits

Post by bits on Aug 8, 2021 3:13:01 GMT

blueshade



Very rarely is a forest truly silent, but beyond the quiet hum of bird-bug-call-echo-hush there was a particularly bizarre sound every now and again. Today's oddity came in the sudden rolling thunder of a dozen or so pinecones tumbling from bough to bough, coming to a surprisingly well-contained halt on the forest floor.



"Are those any good?"



Blueshade leaned over the bough of the tall pine he'd scrambled up not long ago, peering down in the wake of the group of pinecones he'd shaken loose. He could still see Cinderstorm from where he'd ended up, a third of the way up the old pine. He pushed his claws into the bark below him, the motion automatic as he shifted directions along the pine. With his selection shaken loose from the tree, Blueshade traversed back down the tree with the spry confidence of a warrior truly in his element while changing elevation. Any excuse to climb was a good excuse, in his opinion - and despite this being the third such occurrence of a scramble up and down some tree, he was just as entertained on his third landing as he'd been on his first. Without much trouble, he pushed off the last tail-length of trunk and landed on the forest floor, paws sinking into the softer surface. He landed perhaps a few seconds following the cascade of pinecones, and had his ears flicked forwards to listen to the reply.

While certainly invested in the hunt for potentially enriching materials, Blueshade might have had an ulterior motivation to the morning's stroll. Cinderstorm and stress weren't strangers to one another (and that is something he hates the implications of on a good day) but he got the sense things were verging on intolerable. He wasn't sure how much of that suspicion was founded in how she actually felt versus personally held concerns - but that was besides the point. If this did nothing but provide a moment to breathe, he supposed that was a start. It was that sentiment that prompted him to sneak a glance at his daughter, attention kept from the pile they would have to sort through in a moment.


cedarsong - they/them, dawnclan
blueshade - he/him, oakclan
beepaw - she/her, nightclan

Kit

I have nothing to say.

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ravenmist4

Post by ravenmist4 on Aug 11, 2021 7:53:40 GMT

Despite all rational knowledge that her father was an incredibly skilled climber, even better than herself and the majority of their clanmates, Cinderstorm couldn't help but imagine all the possible ways this could end badly. Watching each pinecone plummet around her didn't help, either. He wasn't getting any younger, and the chance of accidents occurring were omnipresent; it was the way of clan life. She could only hope he wasn't going to be one of them. And if he was, that it wouldn't be fatal.

Inhaling sharply, she stared gravely as he closed the gap between the tree's bodice and the forest floor by leaping onto the ground. Once she was given the visual confirmation that her father was safe and sound, she turned her attention to the pinecones. The duty itself seemed more of a lackadaisical apprentice's past-time rather than a productive task, but if Blueshade deemed it worthwhile, she was sure his own reasoning must've held weight-- even if the objective of collecting an abundance of pinecones still struck her as odd. 

"Yes, they all seem to be in quality condition," Cinderstorm affirmed. "How do you propose we take them all back to camp? Multiple trips?" She glanced at him, waiting stiffly for his confirmation. While Cinderstorm enjoyed every opportunity she was given to spend time with her father, she couldn't help but think of her other clan duties.

With the water running low, she had planned on venturing near the Nightclan border to collect as much soaked moss as she could carry for the elders and kits. Afterwards, she had already volunteered herself to lead the evening patrol in hopes of finding herbs that might prove useful to their medicine cat-- their prey may have been steady, but the rest of their reserves continued to worry her... after all, she expected herbs would be even scarcer once Greenleaf ended. She had to do her best and help prepare her clan for the unfortunate possibility of that occurring, even if it meant losing more than a little sleep.

// 

Apprentice

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bits

Post by bits on Aug 11, 2021 17:27:45 GMT

blueshade

If nothing else, thought the warrior as familiar blue eyes tracked his motion over the forest floor, I won't be snatched into nothingness. The concern in that gaze did not escape him, and neither did the grave expression that went unchallenged by both the deluge of pinecones and his quick descent from the chosen tree. Yes, they all seem to be in quality condition. A put-upon sigh escaped the tom, though fondness kept the sound soft rather than truly frustrated. 

"You didn't even look," he whined - a tone more often used by apprentices and maybe young warriors. Blueshade wasn't above some mild guilt-tripping. He managed to stop himself short of shooting a puppy-dog eyed look, although the twitch of his muzzle hinted at the effort it took to do so. He began to paw at some of their selection, as though any one of the freed pinecones could come short of his - admittedly arbitrary - standards. One of the pinecones shed at a light touch, crumbling further when he placed more weight on the object.

"I'm pretty sure the queens will skin me if someone chokes. Or if I bring a bunch of cone beetles back," the memory of the larvae-infested pinecone in question still made him shudder. He'd definitely eaten bugs in his life but there was a distinct difference between "big bug" and "writhing mass of larvae". No thank you to the latter. The process of elimination continued, Blueshade humming as he picked through the ones closest to him. He approached the task with as much focus as any other - not much, given his laidback nature, but enough that it was clear he cared about what they were doing. How do you propose we take them all back to camp? 

Blueshade ... did not have an answer for that one. Instead, he started blankly at his daughter, the gears in his head almost visibly turning. "Hm. Well," he floundered for a moment, looking around to try and pick up on something helpful. "We don't need all of them I guess - maybe three? Four?" There weren't many in camp that would need (or perhaps want) a part of their bounty. A pinecone or two for the nursery, and he'd probably end up passing one along to a receptive apprentice. And, well, he wanted to have one around in case he found an opportunity to convince folks to loosen up for a little while. "Why, are you in a rush?" It sounded like a question, but he was observant enough to have worried over Cinderstorm's packed schedule. Subtlety wasn't his strong suit, but he wanted to strike a balance between concern and the desire to let Cinderstorm pursue her interests.

"You've been busy - can you blame me for bringing you along on this very important adventure?"

Another question that wasn't quite a question, though this time he didn't watch to see Cinderstorm's expression in response. Instead, an errant piece of bark caught his eye, peeling from the tree it was attached to. Blueshade wasted no time in darting over and breaking off the barely attached piece. It was small enough to carry in his mouth, and large enough that - yes! Three of the four chosen pinecones fit on the mildly curved piece. Disproportionately proud of himself, he tossed a winning grin towards Cinderstorm and motioned for them to start the walk back. 


cedarsong - they/them, dawnclan
blueshade - he/him, oakclan
beepaw - she/her, nightclan

Kit

I have nothing to say.

ravenmist4 Avatar

ravenmist4

Post by ravenmist4 on Aug 14, 2021 18:18:24 GMT

The cursory glance she had directed towards the pinecone did not seem up to Bluehade's standards-- she couldn't help the twinge of shame burning the tips of her ears by his somewhat puerile reaction. Unimportance of the task aside, he was correct. Cinderstorm should've examined more thoroughly.

"I apologize. I hadn't thought of those scenarios," She meowed honestly, dipping her head in obedience before joining her father in testing the limits of their newly acquired pinecones. As annoyed as she might be at herself for the minor slip-up in front of Blueshade, groveling did nothing. Working and thinking harder was always the only path forward.

Watching him carefully, she attempted to mimic his actions; staring intensely at the gaps between the scales for the stray bugs he had described, and pressing down onto them. It was clear, even in menial circumstances, she still had much to learn from him. With his kind yet thoughtful nature, Cinderstorm had no clue as to how he hadn't landed in some sort of leadership position-- or was he too humble to accept those offers? That possibility seemed plausible.

Her father's question caught her off guard, and with no immediate thought as to how to reply tactfully, she found herself standing stiffly as she searched for a possible answer.

She couldn't worry him, yet she couldn't brush off his concern either. The rush he not-so-subtly implied her to be in was in no way false, but Cinderstorm prided herself on always making time for others, especially her father. Yet, no matter what, she couldn't lie.

"Er, not exactly," Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she gave him a small, rehearsed smile. "I have everything under control, I promise."

The immediate sigh of relief that bubbled from her throat as he turned away was unavoidable. If she were to ever be as great a warrior as Blueshade, she couldn't let a packed schedule stress her out, or get in the way of her quality time with her father. She simply had to grin and bear it.

Caught up in her own thoughts once again, the vision of her father grinning at her before waltzing away with a fairly large piece of bark filled with pinecones nearly had her double over laughing. How was she supposed to stay serious when he did that?

"Pfft, ahem-- I'm glad you found a suitable solution, Father," A genuine smile found its way to her maw as she followed after Blueshade.

// 

Apprentice

I have nothing to say.

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bits

Post by bits on Aug 16, 2021 18:42:17 GMT

blueshade

He knew Cinderstorm well enough (or at least he'd hope so) to not dwell on the apology. Her responsible nature seemed to predispose her to severity in the most literal of senses - she held herself to a standard much higher than Blueshade ever aspired to. One of his ears flicked towards her while they sorted, half-listening and half-dismissing Cinderstorm's apologetic words.

I have everything under control.

Even with the bark in his maw, the look on Blueshade's face could be described as nothing less than incredulous. It wasn't that he disbelieved his daughter - no, he did believe that she at least thought everything was under control. And maybe it was, at least from an outside perspective; a warrior actively contributing to their clan? Pushing themselves to improve? Nothing more could be asked from a loyal Oakclan warrior. However, more could be asked by said loyal warrior's father. The bark clamped between his teeth kept him from responding before thinking (something he frequently forgot to do on his own). Then - pfft. He echoed his daughter's smile, a fondness worn openly on his partially bark-restricted grin.

"Fomefing funny?" Blueshade's words (something funny?) were nigh-on incomprehensible as they squeezed past the bark clamped between his teeth. The motion nearly sent the precarious balancing act toppling over, and the grey tom had to tilt his head back jerkily to keep the pinecones on top.

Still, the amusement Cinderstorm kept from doubling her over was enough to lighten some of his concerns. If nothing else, he'd brought a little humour and fun to her day - something Blueshade worried she wasn't getting enough of. He hummed his satisfaction as he sauntered on, tail twitching in his wake. As the bark slipped, he paused to readjust his grip (and to have the chance to speak without being entirely garbled).

"You know... I think I'd describe myself as an Oakclanner first and a warrior second," Blueshade spoke slowly at first, as though giving himself time to parse through the words he wanted to share. He raised a paw to shift one of the pinecones, adding a flat-bottomed rock to the bark to keep the pinecones from rolling off the edge when carrying the forest platter. "We go through different ranks and roles, yeah? But we're always part of our clan, our family. We care for each other in different ways - hunting and patrolling, yeah, but also story-telling and kitsitting and nest-building and all kinds of stuff." 

Blue eyes fixed themselves on Cinderstorm, looking with a level of gravity that rarely made an appearance on his face. His lips pressed together, reflection stirring up his flighty thoughts.

"I know you care - a lot - about our clan. But I care about you too, and I don't want to see you burning yourself out for the sake of it."

Finally he leaned down to pick up the bark, curved sides now joined by a small stone at the end to keep the pinecones from tumbling forwards. The sobriety of his expression smoothed out, features once more softening into their cheery default. His brief monologue failed to chip away meaningfully at the weight in his chest, but that familiar lump had made itself comfortable over a year ago and today's moment of vulnerability did little to assuage it. Kit-steps, so to speak.


cedarsong - they/them, dawnclan
blueshade - he/him, oakclan
beepaw - she/her, nightclan

Kit

I have nothing to say.

ravenmist4 Avatar

ravenmist4

Post by ravenmist4 on Aug 20, 2021 19:15:42 GMT

She could scarcely understand whatever her father had uttered through his occupied jaws, instead deciding to turn her gaze away in case he made her laugh any further. As much of a jokester as he could be, Cinderstorm didn't want to risk finding amusement at his expense-- she respected him far too much for that.

"Do you need a paw?" Her question went unanswered as he clumsily maneuvered the bark, perhaps too distracted to notice her offer.

As he adjusted the carrier to make it sturdier (perhaps they could use it again, in the future), Cinderstorm could already tell he was brewing something to say. She often agreed with his words of advice, but the serious expression on his face took her aback. Whatever it was he hoped to tell her, she knew she ought to look and listen carefully.

"You know... I think I'd describe myself as an Oakclanner first and a warrior second," His phrasing bewildered her-- how would the two possibly be separated from one another? Yet, as he continued, she began to grasp his theme. All duties and roles were equally important, yes? She understood how that would make sense, even if some tasks were more crucial than others.

"I know you care - a lot - about our clan. But I care about you too, and I don't want to see you burning yourself out for the sake of it."

Frowning, Cinderstorm stood still as Blueshade picked the bark up once more. It was clear that her attempt at reassuring him didn't work, leaving the two of them at an impasse. How could she possibly do less? She was a strong and healthy warrior; it was only natural for her to provide in the name of her clan, and push her body as far as she could. Everything she did was to protect the rest-- her father, especially-- and all concerns regarding herself would and should come second. 

"I understand your concerns, Father. However... as long as all I do is in the name of others and yourself, surely it must be alright. I am both an Oakclanner and a warrior." She couldn't let herself relax, or goof off, even as much as she would like to do so. If she had been as diligent as she was now back during her apprenticeship, she knew her brother would've been alongside them now. "Additionally, I am your daughter as well, and... I would like to make you proud, more than anything else." 


// 

Apprentice

I have nothing to say.

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bits

Post by bits on Aug 20, 2021 23:44:05 GMT

blueshade

Even without a laugh or smile, Blueshade could read his daughter's amusement in something as small as a sharp breath or the way she looked away to hide the expression threatening to break her very serious warrior image. He was fine with the little victories - dedicated to chipping away bit by bit to carve out spaces for laughter and lightheartedness. Blueshade would have responded to the offer to help carry if he hadn't had to focus almost entirely on letting his sincerity eke out from underneath his jokester veneer. 

He was relieved to be finished with saying his piece, once he had done so. There was something viscerally uncomfortable about being serious. It was why he couldn't bring himself to watch Cinderstorm too closely after speaking, having to take a steadying breath before he could focus back on her. Her reticence did not escape him, though he hadn't expected his input to be some world-changing revelation. His hope was to ease not to erase his daughter's sense of responsibility. Balance was something they both lacked, though perhaps in different ways. Where Cinderstorm's excess was work, his was - deflection? A reluctance in the face of the harsher parts of reality, not denying their presence but denying the impact they had on him. Dwelling on his discomfort had never helped him before, and he was glad to be drawn out of that train of thought by his daughter's response.

I understand your concerns ... 

Blueshade swivelled an ear Cinderstorm's way, trying to catch her expression out of the corner of his eye. He wondered, as she spoke, whether she'd hold her clanmates to the same high standards she held herself to - he hadn't seen as much. He'd have to keep an eye out (not that he was the most observant of cats but ... well, worth a shot). She was committed, his daughter - demonstrating virtues he'd never aspired to.

I would like to make you proud, more than anything else.

A strangled sound came from Blueshade, a mouthful of bark doing nothing for him in the way of eloquence. The speed at which he returned the bark to the ground and faced Cinderstorm nearly toppled the precariously stacked stone and pinecones.

"I am proud of you - I am always proud of you," again that dread. He drove the sombre expression off his face, wishing that the tightness in his chest was as easy to chase out. It was a conscious decision to grin, to loosen his stance and swish his tail over the ground. His next words were far lighter, an attempt to return to the joking tone he'd started out with. "Even if you could use some pinecone picking practice. It's going to be embarrassing if Oakclan's best and brightest gets absolutely slammed in pinecone games."

Again he took up his mouthful of bark, tilting back enough that one of the pinecones rolled to a stop against his face as he began to move again. He used the manoeuvring of the platter as a thin excuse to drift closer to his daughter as he walked. Back to a resting grin, back to the teasing tone he was used to - it was comfortable to return to that familiar role he played. All while Cinderstorm's words gained a foothold in his head.

I would like to make you proud  right back at you kiddo.


cedarsong - they/them, dawnclan
blueshade - he/him, oakclan
beepaw - she/her, nightclan

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