PAFP AZURE GLEAM | mossball

[BRIGHTPETAL]

It was the second sunhigh upon his Deputyship, already, some things seemed to be... wrong. The hunting patrols had not been as smooth as he thought, pairing clanmates up at random had done nothing but cause issues - doing things without method did not take into account the pre-existing bonds between clanmates and the strengths and weaknesses of them all. Even the day's patrols seemed... stilted; as if before he'd send too many out, today, he'd sent too little. It was something to consider over a good meal and bountiful prayer, but stress often frayed one's whiskers and, unintentionally, he had taken on a new challenge to keep himself distracted from self-reflection.

Between his paws, Brightpetal kicked a perfectly crafted mossball, eyeing his kit opponents with a childish gleam. His goal was to get past them and win the game by batting it into the Nursery. They would win if they got it into the Warrior's den. No one had scored, and no one had won, even as he bragged to them that he was the 'best mossball player ever', it was difficult to justify going all out on a couple of kittens barely old enough to eat prey. He wiggled his haunches left and right as he tried to find the best angle to launch the emerald sphere, his yellow gaze locking onto an all-too-familiar clanmate skulking past.

Him and Graybird weren't friends in any sense of the word, while the weight of the forest slid off of Brightpetal like water off of a duck's back, Graypetal seemed to carry it all like a sullen horse. Brightpetal didn't understand it, personally. The Stars had revealed there was hope for them, that any suffering would be absconded upon death and they looked fondly upon ThunderClan despite what had been taken from them. There were days where it hurt, but was it not his duty to keep going with a smile upon his face to remind others that it'd be ok? He'd never seen the pale tom smile, in fact, he'd never seen him close to any-one clanmate, perhaps it was sympathy for such a plight that caused Brightpetal to turn towards him. "Hey Graybird, think fast!"

With an almighty swing of his paw, he bat the mossball in Graybird's direction. "These kiddos are tough, help me out here!" He beamed.

@Graybird
​

 

[Graybird]

I am not your kind and gentle husband

Think fast. He's never thought fast in his life - he was born at a leisurely pace, Graybird had never been in a hurry for anything. So when he lifted his head at the sound of his name it was to the sight of a green tangle of moss striking him in the face where it harmlessly bounced off his nose and onto the ground at his paws. It didn't hurt, obviously, it was a ball of moss - if it had hurt it would be an indication of a more serious problem then just having no proper reaction speed to warnings.
He wants to like Brightpetal, truly. The tom is kind, gentle, a welcome presence in times of strife and reminded him so much of Straw in a way it hurt his heart; the red tabby who had died trying to protect Thornstar and now another red tabby stands at Juniperstar's side to help guard her as well; maybe the stars have a more gentle end for him than what befell the other. It should be me. A voice whispers in the back of his mind, a dark snarl of a sound that made an involuntary shiver run up his spine and he doesn't know where it came from - he's not ambitious, not in the way his brother was and certainly he was not the sort of cat who wanted power by any means. But it wasn't about power was it, it was something else. He could never truly escape that overwhelming desire to be what was needed, the only one who was needed. For her. Stars how he wishes he could not constantly be burdened by his own selfishness, maybe he should linger near the deputy more often - let himself be basked in a selfless heart for a few moments to know what its like to think outside of himself. Graybird offers a tentative smile, awkward but not unpleasant and he raised his lone dark dipped paw to bat the ball back at the other with maybe a bit more enthusiasm than was proper given how it soared in a high arc.
"Is the clan not enough kitsitting for you? You must watch the actual kits now?" It was said lightly in jest, but there was a question beneath it wondering if this was avoidance of more pressing matters or if they were not dealing with anything too severe to warrant worry.

& I am not the love you knew before.

GRAY

— Warrior ThunderClan
— He/They
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— SH Gray Tabby with holly green eyes.#82847e

 

[serpentberry]

Serpentberry often leaves her tots to the sides of Rowanpaw, or Palefern or Juniperstar if either queen has the capacity to corral and tame her leaflets. She's busy more days than she's not, especially with her duties as a medicine cat, and aside from a few rueful glares, the molly hasn't been told off over her habit.

This time, she returns from a self-made patrol, having left Rattlekit, Leafkit, and Thistlekit by the nursery with their playmates. Her maw holds a few wilted stems and flowers, nothing fantastic but nothing horrible either. Her gaze flicks to the nursery first, catching the scene between Brightpetal and the kits, and watching the arc of the mossball as it plumets and lands uselessly atop Graybird's face. She smirks, ears flicking back as she heads to her den first, only to exit soon after and join the game.

"I do think that if he can't handle a rabbit's burrow's worth of kittens, then surely he isn't fit to operate the entire Clan," Serpentberry says matter-of-factly, joining on the side of the bumbling kits. It isn't obvious yet if she will be playing or simply acting as referee of sorts. She glowers at Brightpetal for a moment before quirking a grin and nodding, "He seems to be doing well - that is, if he can manage a point against the lot of them." She teases the young tom playfully, her claws scoring into the dirt with the single sign of, yes, she will defend the nursery in this game.