Open Camp get to know me — storytime

[DIMMINGSUN]

"And so, there I was... cornered by three brutes. I was backed into a corner."

Bengt loafs, ever-comfortable in the middle of a ragged circle that had appeared the longer he told his story. A few of them, actually; turns out, WindClan is rather curious about the dubious past of the stray that they had decided to feed and heal. He supposes he can get behind that. He, too, is a sponge when it comes to some good gossip. This is far from it however—while he's not above the mending of the truth, this specific remnant of the past is genuine, whether some of the more senior warriors believe it or not. Loners and rogues like to stick together in an attempt to look more intimidating and bully the single cats out of their hard-earned food.

He regards each cat sitting around him with a look. Bengt is not the greatest storyteller, but his voice can certainly make even the simplest sentences entertaining. He loves theatrics.

"They expected me to try and run away, or to give in... but they didn't expect me to attack back."

Bengt assumes he ought to spare the gory details, lest the younger kits and apprentices get too scared and run to their mothers, earning him a scolding.

"I gave them what they deserved. And guess what? They never bothered me again. If they saw me coming, they either turned tail or picked a different lane to pad on."

No need to wait for @lotuskit @Solacewhisper @Honeyflower @Chickpaw

 

[Chickpaw]

————————————————————— Here comes the sun ☀︎

Chickpaw wasn't expecting a story. As with most things, he had simply been drawn in by the growing crowd around the immense newcomer. At least, he thought this cat must've been a newcomer. If he had seen him before, he sure as shine forgot about it … but to be fair, he forgot most things.

This fellow—Benny or something or another—had a fantastic way of rambling on, gesturing with a wild paw when the apprentice's attention would slip. Of course, he had no idea what had come before in the story, but he still Ooh'd and Aah'd like he had some idea. By all means, he was a perfect—albeit a bit lost—audience.

The patchwork looking tom gasped in surprise at Benny claiming he had attacked… whoever it was that he had attacked. A look of confusion dawned on his face at his next words though, and he tilted his head to the side, great big ears flopping along with him.

"What did they deserve?" The tom asked innocently. "I wouldn't have given them anything. They're the bad guys, right? They don't deserve nothin'." He thought for a moment, eyes falling to his cinnamon-colored paws. "Actually. Maybe I would give them something. A flower or something, maybe they're allergic." Chick shrugged, though he didn't look certain on his choice. In actuality, he probably would've been beaten to a pulp long before he could even offer anything, but the tom didn't think too hard about that possibility.

We'll be here when the world slows down

And the sunbeams fade away

• 
  Chick
  ☀︎—Windclan Apprentice
  ☀︎—He/Him
  ☀︎—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ☀︎—A small cinnamon shorthair with patches of long golden fur.
  #FBCC86 #847635

 

[Finchkit Finchkit]

————————— There might be something outside your window. ✦

The kitten overheard the big stranger talking about something or other, and of course she couldn't stay away! Curiosity was a strong thing, and seeing familiar cats nearby made her more than comfortable to toddle over and listen intently.

With little to no sense of personal space, not wanting to crane her head all the way up, especially with the growing crowd, Finchy b-lined towards Chickpaw and clambered up his side and settled two tiny paws upon his head as she stared up at the stranger, Bengt, and his story.

Her eyes glittered, hearing the tale of a cat from outside the clan, she'd never met anyone outside of Windclan until recently, with aaaaall these strangers showing up! But she didn't mind this one; he was really good at telling stories after all.

"That's so cool!" She squeaked, standing up from her rather comfortable seat perched atop the apprentice. Though she had to giggle at the seemingly clueless addition of Chickpaw. "No silly, he beat them up!!" Finchkit fell ceremoniously off of the back of Chickpaw as he tilted his head, falling with a light thump that made her giggle more.

She pushed herself to her paws and bounded closer to the tom with glittering eyes. "I bet no one ever tried to fight you again, ya' woulda given 'em their tails!!" The kitten giggled, a spark of an idea alight in her mind. With a cheeky grin evident on her face, she turned with narrowed eyes and pounced on Chickpaw (or attempted to), giggling as she flopped to the floor. Much too small and inexperienced in fighting, but by the stars, gearing up to become a menace with each passing moon.

Though a thought crossed her mind, she stared inquisitively at Bengt for a moment. "If they didn't wanna fight you again, how'd'ya get hurt?" A tilt of her head, copying Chickpaw, not really knowing it wasn't exactly appropriate to try and pry into the past of the tom. But, then again, he was the one telling the stories!

———————— But you'll just....

Never know. —————————

• 
  Finchkit
  ✦—Windclan kit | 2 moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A small creme tabby with a long bushy tail and wide owly eyes.
  #F5A837
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Weaselchirp Weaselchirp]

I'm a young soul in this very strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake
But why all this hate? Try to communicate
Finding trust and love is not always easy to make

.

Weaselchirp plopped herself down without ceremony among the cluster of cats gathered around the massive loner, a faint trail of dirt still trickling from her pelt. Her wide orange eyes fixed on Bengt with an intensity that bordered on unnerving as he reached the end of his tale. They never bothered him again, he had said. What a lonely life that must eventually be... To be by yourself. All alone. Nobody to grace your presence, nobody to curl up against during the long, cold nights. No, that was not a life she would wish.

Finchkit, ever sharp, asked the right questions. And dear Chickpaw, such a sweet soul, gave answers she assumed never would have happened. No flowers for those who sharpened their claws on others. But Weaselchirp...? She only stared. And stared. A very long, very quiet, very pointed stare, the kind that made fur prickle. Then out of no where, her head turned sharply, orange gaze now pinned on Finchkit.

" I suspect. " she began, her tone almost sing-song in contrast to her solemn words. " That even if the weaker cats knew to stay away, stronger ones would come along eventually. And while Bengt certainly has size, well... size matters little when it's a whole group showing strength. " Her head swiveled again, back to Bengt, eyes narrowing just a touch. " Or perhaps... our new friend simply underestimated his opponent? " All was said with no malice, no ill intent, merely curiousity. The kind of curiousity Weaselchirp always had carried with her.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

66 MOONS

𖧧

WINDCLANNER

𖧧

SONG

𖧧

bio

 

[WHISPERPAW]

Whisperpaw overheard the big newcomer, talking about something or other nearby. Looking up from what he was doing (observing a beetle crawling around near his paws), he goes and wonders over. He peers and pushes his way through the curious crowd of Windclanners listening in on the grand story.

Ears angled forward, rosy eyes wide and sparkling. Curling its plumed tail around it's paws, he plops down onto it's haunches. Hearing the story flow from the— newcomer-stranger's maw. It was reaaaally good at telling stories! It wanted more.

"Woah..."

An airy gasp left it at the details. It slowly blinks at the tiny body of Finchkit, tilting his head at the questioning kit. The apprentice wanted to know too... But, it is rude to pry into the gritty past of the tom who was telling the story! Ah. An ear twitches at the voice if Weaselchirp speaking, turning it's head at the older tunneler. Whisperpaw didn't reaaaally think about it too hard.

ooc.

n/a

︶꒦꒷ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ⊹ . ݁˖ .

(

THERE ARE FASCINATING THINGS TO EXPLORE.

) ‧₊˚⤾⊹ .ᐟ

WHISPERPAW

╱ WINDCLAN APPRENTICE.​

a smaller-than-avarage petite albino feline, with flowing - like plush ivory fur upon it's bird - boned frame. paired with dusty, hues of pink sparkling with curiosity about the world around it. his tongue speaks upon riddles dripping from his maw, as the dust coat his paws.

➢

NONBINARY ; HE / IT ; CURRENTLY 11 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 3RD.

✿

questioning / single, not actively looking — mentoring none.

✿

thoughts ; "Speech, E7CCCC" ; attacks only

✿

may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted

✿

smells like water lilies & an undertone of wild strawberries

✿

— all opinions are ic

speaks in third-person. refers to himself as his name and the pronouns he uses.

— biography / @ on discord for plots
— penned by calzone

 

[DIMMINGSUN]

"Oh, yes,"

Bengt breathes,

"they were the bad guys. I had caught my prey fair and square, so I had no reason to give anything over."

His amusement grows at Chickpaw's confusion and evident need to share—even with thieves.

"A cuff over the ears, a slap to the sides of their cheeks... that's what they deserved."

Still, he keeps his story as kit-friendly as possible. Perhaps starting off with a fight had not been the best decision. Oh well; first impressions go a long way, and Bengt wants WindClan to understand he doesn't shy away from tooth nor claw.

The younger kitten, Finchkit, is much faster when it comes to understanding Bengt's hints. A deep laugh reverberates from deep within his chest.

"Unfortunately, no."

If only life in the wild were that simple... a single show of strength would keep all opponents at bay then. But then where would the fun go? The adrenaline?

"Fights always break out. I suppose it's in our nature, or something like that..."

Do these cats think the same way? Bengt has to wonder. They call themselves warriors, and they speak of honor and duty like no tomorrow, so he doubts that his worldview differs too much from theirs. A common ground is always a good starting point.

"I got hurt 'cause of another cat. A little embarrassing, honestly... but it just goes to show that experience doesn't minimize mistakes."

Oh, how wise he sounds right about now.

His one eye flits to one of the adults; Weaselchirp, if he remembers correctly. While her presence must mean some level of interest, she is not nearly as lost in his story as the others. It's to be expected. Her "challenge" of sorts is expected, too, considering it would be foolish to take him for his word every single time.

"Maybe. They put up a good fight. The details are a bit hazy in retrospect..."

 

[HoneyflowerHoneyflower's icon]

Slow Down, Just Breathe

Honeyflower listens quietly from just outside the nursery, curious of the newcomer, and perhaps a little nostalgic. It felt like back at the barn, in a way. It hadn't been uncommon for cats to appear at the barn injured and in need of a safe place to recover. It was well known that the barncats were welcoming (if one didn't meet her brother first) to outsiders. It was a safe haven in a world that was often hostile to cats. Bengt was lucky it had been Meadowpaw that found him instead of some other cat.

"Regardless," She murmurs over the crowd, paws tucked neatly in front of her. "I'm glad you're ok now, Bengt." A tilt of her head as she listens to the tom's story, how he's embarrassed at being hurt. Embarrassed for nearly dying? "Better to be embarrassed than dead, I think." Honeyflower finally calls out before rising to sit closer to the crowd to hear better.

Despite his previous injuries she finds herself wondering about asking for fighting tips. She was not exactly a fighter- where Sassafraschill was all barbs and claws, she was soft. More prone to picking daisies to put in her fur than baring her fangs. ...Perhaps when he's at full strength, when her kits are a bit bigger, she'd ask. Her brother would no doubt go easy on her if asked, and no other would likely even entertain the thought while she was in the nursery with kits. Even if the request was ultimately for them. To protect them. She was treated as fragile as her heart. It was...frustrating.

"...Who taught you how to fight, out there..? Or did you teach yourself?"

xxx

All We Have Is All We Need

Tags

Honeyflower

✿—Gale Guard Of WindClan
✿—She/Her
✿—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
✿—Dilute Calico Shecat With Green Eyes And A Floppy Ear
#a4e1ba

 

[Chickenscratch Chickenscratch]

My broken wings dream of the sky
and they'll never be able to fly,

‎

CHICKENSCRATCH, She/Her / 55 moons / Windclan Warrior
Long hair Amber 'blue' molly with flame point / short hair cream tabby chimera with golden eyes
Daughter of HOOT, Sibling of OWLBEAR
Super chill and a good listener, tends to look on the bright side wherever possible (maybe even a bit too much), almost always gives other cats silly nicknames so... Prepare yourself
Tagging [@]

‎

Ah, storytime. Something Chickenscratch was no stranger to, no, it was something she greatly cherished since her father had brought the tradition into the barnyard in his own way. She herself carried this tradition on and while she didn't think she would ever reach the status that her father had, she honored his memory with it. In that way, nothing could truly be lost.

Others that told their stories came and went when it came to the barn, the same would be the case here in the moors. The best that one could do is continue telling their stories and keep memories alive no matter where they were. While their style of storytelling was notably different or even inexperienced, Bengt did manage to attract attention. Both curious and critical ears from young and old cats alike. It was the energy that Bengt put into it that made it work. Though, there were some pretty obvious... Tonal changes to the wider subject matter, likely for the sake of the younglings that were around here.

In any case, Chickenscratch was just happy to see her friends and clanmates gathering for a tradition in earnest, there was something warm about it. Chickpaw, Whisperpaw and Finchkit's reactions earned them a soft chortle from Chickenscratch. "Sometimes parts of our stories can just be that simple. As we can see, Bengt here is healthy despite their scars. Each holds a story, no?"

In response to Honeyflower's input, Chickenscratch nodded, a solemn yet strong smile on her face. "Well, you know what poppa Hoot always said; 'any landing you can walk away from is a good one'."

‎

Only if we never try...
On my ~

LOOOOOOOVE

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