Written in the Stars

comings and goings [o]


unhealthily obsessed with indirect characterization </3

bunnie Avatar


Post by bunnie on Oct 25, 2021 5:43:27 GMT

ᓚᘏᗢ seven times. seven times minkfeather woke up throughout a single short night. and each time he woke up, he listened closely to find any sort of indication as to why his body was so determined to lay awake. he found naught, but he eventually gave in after so many instances of an imperfect night of rest. he rose to his paws, gently, as not to awaken those around him lucky enough to sleep soundly, and made his way to the camp. it was no surprise to him that the sun hadn't even begun its ascent. he gazed up at the moon, a half-full gibbous. or perhaps it was a half-empty crescent. he did not care to ponder it, and decided that it was simply the moon, and the moon in all of her glory was blessing his evening by showing her pretty purity. under his breath, he muttered a thanks to the sky for not blocking out the shining gibbous/crescent (dependent wholly upon whoever perceives it).

ᓚᘏ it was not oft that minkfeather lasted long enough into the evening to witness a quiet night like this one. he was of average sleeping - not delicate so that he would stir at the mildest movement, but not so heavy that he could snooze through a fire. it was chilly tonight with frequent gusts of wind. even though he was used to the cool air of leaf-fall in prior years, his coat was short and hadn't yet grown the full thickness that kept him cozy. in order for this little fella not to freeze his tail off, he begun to pace - something his mother had told him about when he was an apprentice experiencing the first snow. if one were to keep moving, she would always say, then one's muscles would keep the rest of oneself warm. he wasn't fully convinced that walking around would keep the shivers away, but it was better than interrupting the beauty sleep of his clanmates by eerily watching their rest. and as he paced around the camp, he floated closer and closer to the entrance of the warrior's den - and unbeknownst to him, crunching his paws atop leaves all the way. now, while a normal sleeper like himself would innately ignore the rustling, some cats were a little less fortunate. it was only when one of those unfortunate light sleepers emerged from the den that he noticed the quiet yet annoying ruckus he was gently encouraging.

"woa- whoopsies, sorry there! didn't mean to wake you up," minkfeather chuckled nervously, stopping in his tracks and awkwardly glancing down and back up between the cat and the leaves he had been stomping around in. he kept his voice as low as he could as to not disturb any more cats, but he already found himself shrinking away for seeming to have upset the cat.

ᘏᗢ notes //  silly little boy disturbs the peace 
ᗢ tags // n/a


I have nothing to say.

nightmare Avatar


Post by nightmare on Nov 10, 2021 23:48:03 GMT

Words: 583 | tagged: | notes: blacknose's first outing <3

Blacknose is decidedly not a good sleeper, and, in fact, never has been. She was a fidgety, annoying kit and had never grown out of it. The tiny patterns of sound in the warrior's den during the night had become intimately familiar from many moons of Backnose laying, curled into a stocky ball in her den, listening to the shifting of her Clanmates as they slept.
In Green Leaf, when the nights were warmer, she often crept out into the camp to practice, leaping around alone in the dark with sheathed claws, or prowling about the territory, watching the ground for wolf or bear tracks, hunting weasels or digging through mice burrows. Sometimes she even heads to the water, avoiding twoleg tracks and watching the moon reflect on the surface of the water, occasionally catching an unlucky fish who chose to take a moonlit swim on the wrong night.
But, now it was Leaf Fall, and it was slowly becoming too cold to wander about the mountains alone in the dead of night. Even with her thick coat, Blacknose had started to feel the cold.
No. Now, instead, she spent her nights curled up among the pine needles of her nest, listening to the familiar rhythm of breathing of the warrior's den.
But, tonight, Blacknose had listened to a constant shifting on the other side of the den, something that was unfamiliar in the soundscape a DawnClan night. She lays still, but pricks her ears at each movement, trying to place who - or what - is making the racket.
It's unlikely to be anything more than one of her Clanmates shifting around in their sleep, but Blacknose still flicks an ear, wondering if perhaps there's a stoat or a weasel or a particularly brave mouse in the camp.
It's a relief, then, when, after seven or maybe eight noisy movements, the cat in question obviously leaves their nest, and Blacknose blinks as light pawsteps patter behind her and out into the camp.
The den is back to it's familiar noises, and Blacknose buries further down into her nest and closes her eyes, feeling maybe very ready to sleep. It has long since gotten dark, and she's expecting to be on a patrol tomorrow.
Blacknose is partway through the set up for a weasel hunt when a noise in the camp wakes her again.
It's a quiet sound, really, only waking her because she was in a half slumber, and it follows a rhythmic pattern of pacing back and forth. Silent as the mist, Blacknose unwinds herself from her nestmate and creeps out of the den, placing her thick paws carefully to avoid stepping too close to anybody and waking them up.
Pacing among the leaves in the camp is Minkfeather, looking cold with his short coat. Although the Leaf Bare had, so far, been fairly warm, nights in the mountains brought bitter winds that could cut through even the thick fur of most DawnClan warriors, and Blacknose was no exception.
She smiles when he spots her, bats away his apology.
"Don't worry about it," she says. "I wasn't really sleeping." She speaks quietly, although she doubts their voices will wake anyone who slept through Minkfeather's tossing and turning and trudging around in the leaves. She sits, flicking her tail silently across the ground, leaving Minkfeather plenty of room to continue his pacing to fight off the cold.
"You're not normally awake at this time," Blacknose says. "And it's a cold night. Is something wrong?"
Last Edit: Nov 10, 2021 23:48:38 GMT by nightmare
she/they | GMT/BST

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