Open Camp WindClan hope will grow ✿ — flower planting

[Meadowpaw]

{$title} Meadow and others return to camp after digging up flowers for a garden. TLDR is dirty stinky cats make camp pretty : )

Sitting in the dark waiting on the stars
Thinking through all the places that you've been

.

The sun had begun to set, painting the sky in soft amber by the time they returned to camp. Her gait was uneven, more of a sway than a stride—jaws gently clamped around the stems of a freshly unearthed yellow flower. Dirt still clung to its roots, crumbling as it bobbed lightly with each step.

Behind her, a few other cats trailed close, each carrying their own bundle of blooms. The colors and shapes varied, but their mingled scents wove into an earthy bouquet that clung to their fur and sung faintly in the breeze. Meadow's is well past just dirty, dark soil caked to her paws and dusting her from nose to tail. She was tired and aching but there's no time to rest now.

As they padded into camp, Meadow slowed, her green eyes sweeping across the wide, wind-swept clearing they now called home. She hobbled a few more paces before easing down awkwardly, lowering the flower to the ground with as much care as she could manage. The roots were intact, carefully dug out with claws and much patience.

"I'd like to plant them here I think." The spot she'd chosen was easy to see, where the grass grew thick and green. She didn't know a lot about planting, but she knew flowers—not all of them of course, but a good amount. She knew how to tell them apart and where to find them. Not all would take to being uprooted and replanted, but some might. Meadow hoped they would bloom beautifully and bring some comfort for those who needed it, just as she did.

But before anything can be planted, there's more work. It's difficult to admit, but there's no way she can do it all alone. Or at least not unless she wanted to dig well into the night. "I hate to ask, but could someone please help me?" She casts a nervous glance over her shoulder. "Sorry..." After dragging them out to dig in the sun, she imagined the last thing anyone wanted to do was dig more. So, if no one wanted to, she would still plant the flowers anyway.

Meadow settles on her haunches, leaning slightly to one side as she begins to part the grass. Gradually, she scrapes the exposed dirt, claws curling through to make space for their flowers.

Anyone can have joined Meadow on her little expedition. Cats that didn't join the patrol can also be unaware of where they went and come to see what's going on. Those that went with her feel free to plant whatever you like!

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

8 MOONS

⟢

WINDCLAN

⟢

SONG

⟢

bio

 

[Dustystar Dustystar]

✪ Align my Heart, my Body, my Mind​

indentOnce again, Dustystar places her bundle of flowers down next to Meadowpaw's. She was grateful that her injuries had healed enough to allow her to leave camp to gather them. She didn't share Meadow's knowledge of plantlife, but she recognized some fuzzy-looking yellow flowers that her Meemaw had pointed out to her the last time they were in bloom. Gently, as not to damage the delicate roots, she had dug up the plant, hoping to bring it back to camp with her.

indent When Meadow sheepishly asks for help digging another hole, Dusty dutifully gets to work, clawing a shallow hole in the hard soil. There's no need to be delicate here. None of the roots need to be saved or preserved. She can just rake her claws upon the dirt, slicing and tearing whatever she comes across.

indent It reminds her of that day, a few moons ago, when they had dug tunnels in the snow together. It was only this past leafbare, but it seems like far longer ago than that, in her mind. Before the fire, and the losses, and the messages from the stars, Dusty had already considered herself a rather uptight cat. Now, though, she longs to be as carefree as she had been then, allowing herself to be caught up in play by Meadow's asking and Buck's teasing.

indentThere was hardly time for that anymore. Every day was a struggle to resettle, to gain their footing in this new home. Dustystar felt as if she was constantly on the move ever since she was healed enough to do so, as if her idle paws would be seen as a sign of her inability to lead. Even now, reminiscing on light-hearted days of the past, she works at the dirt with passion and fervor, as if she could will it into submission by showcasing her dedication to the work. Despite the hardened expression on her face, the soil remained hard and stalwart.

Dustystar - 26 moons - Windclan Leader

 

[Merrystalk Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

The tortoiseshell trotted along, tailing Meadowpaw and Dustystar. It had been a pleasant outing to the fields, his maw clutching a bundle of flowers the little patrol had dug up. He hadn't thought to ask why Meadow needed so many flowers, and with their roots intact at that. Not as if he could ask, the whole way back, he was muffled by the plants, to his chagrin. It wasn't like the taste of the stems was good.

Though as they made it into the camp, he noticed Meadow leading them to a plot of land. He placed the bundle down delicately and smiled. "Aye, a lil' flower garden yer makin' Meadow?" He clicked his tongue, looking around the open expanse. "If these take well, maybe we could put more 'round, could use more than greens 'round here!" He chuckled.

Making his way over, he noticed both Dusty and Meadow digging with unsheathed claws in the earth. He unsheathed his claws in kind and joined in the digging. And well, maybe he underestimated the skills of the folk who dug those tunnels back at the barn, it wasn't easy work raking back the dirt. He managed to make a small hollow in the ground, but grabbing a stalk of some bright coloured plant, his face scrunched up a little. "These uh... roots? They're meant to be well buried, right? Don't think I dug deep enough..."

He clicked his tongue. The dirt was hard; was it meant to be like that? It wasn't like he spent his days digging; he wasn't much for tunnelling. Too claustrophobic. Maybe he was just bad at digging? That was far more likely. But even then, he kept pawing at the dirt; the last thing Meadowpaw needed was her idea to be dashed.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• 
  Merrystalk
  ✦—Windclan Moor runner | 26 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[Molewhisker Molewhisker]

——————— Does the wind feel a gladness at the work that it's done?

Molewhisker never meant to snoop, but it wasn't as if the Windclan cats were quiet in their day-to-day business. It was hard not to know the goings-on, even with rarely speaking to a soul. But, from their hidden and secluded burrow they had made - just to get a little peace in the day away from other warriors - they overheard a conversation that piqued their interest.

Flower planting? They couldn't quite pinpoint who was talking, but they grew... Curious. Usually, these conversations would just float past, but flowers were one of the few things they did grow to enjoy when not hiding away.

Tentatively, they peered out from their burrow. It was bright, painfully so for eyes not so adjusted to the day still. Even so, they blinked hard and, through bleary eyes, spotted a familiar pelt. It was not as if he was friends with Dustystar, but she was respectful and polite. There was a tortoiseshell, the loud voice he could hear over all else, failing so it seemed to dig a hole for a flower he held rather carelessly.

Curiosity grew to a want to help. Molewhisker pushed themself from their burrow, walking quietly, noticing a third party, a tiny calico. She seemed the most invested in these flowers, digging with a glitter in her eyes. For a moment, it lingered and watched, not yet speaking. The tom fruitlessly dug at the soil, though it seemed Dustystar and the little calico had a better idea.

With a small breath, they steeled themself and spoke softly. "That dirt seems too packed for untrained paws to dig." It didn't intend to be so... Directed at the tortoiseshell, but that much was true. They stepped closer, perching nearby the disturbed top soil, cocking their head a little seeing the bundles of plants, they were correct that it seemed they were attempting to plant a small garden.

It reached a paw and pointed to the yellowish ones that the small calico had close. "Dandelions are hardy, they will thrive even in the poorest of soil."

With that, they unsheathed large claws, dulled at the tips and dirtied from digging, and raked the soil too. Compared to the tortoiseshell and Dustystar, they were small, abnormally so perhaps, but still their claws held more strength than the tom at their side. There was still resistance, but they managed to help dig small hovels for the plants to rest in.

It again gazed at the various plants, scanning them. "Some are more frail, the dirt needs to be softer, less compacted." Their eyes turned to the rest of the camp. "Though what is left of suitable soft soil may be limited, those I had to utilise for burrows.".

Even with that, Molewhisker reached over and plucked some various wildflowers that had been carefully dug up; they gave a light smile, seeing the intact roots. "I can find softer soils during the night, suitable flower planting locations, if you would like?" They again cocked their head, looking to the three cats.

Before immediately feeling their throat tighten. They had no idea how long they had been talking, interrupting even. There was a pit in their stomach as they quietly planted the flower in their paw, gently pressing soil around it. "I am... Sorry if I interrupted." Something akin to shame piled in their chest, feeling as if they had intruded.

——— I won't go making mountains

out of molehills anymore. ———

• 
  Molewhisker
  ✦—Windclan tunneller
  ✦—They/It
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A soft-spoken, small, red and blue chimera with overly long whiskers.
  #9D9D9D

 

[Pebblespaw]

PEBBLEPAW

You taught me the courage of stars before you left. How light carries on endlessly, even after death

" Help? Of course! " Pebblepaw chirped before she'd even finished her sentence, bounding forward in a flurry of gangly limbs and mismatched enthusiasm. The fading light caught on the mess of his scruffy fur, making it look almost silver in places, if you squinted. His tail swished behind him in a blur, eager and lopsided. " No need to be sorry, Meadowpaw! " he meowed brightly, settling beside her with a practiced, cheerful grin that didn't quite match the distant flicker in his eyes. " Look at them! They're so... yellow! And blue! And, oh, that one has little curly petals like a mouse's ear! You really know your flowers, huh? "

He leaned in close to inspect one, nose twitching, eyes wide in feigned awe. " It smells like sunshine and dirt and... kinda like the moss we sleep on, if you squish it real hard. It's perfect! " he declared. His paws were already digging before she could answer, enthusiastic, clumsy scoops flinging soil this way and that. Not the cleanest help, but help nonetheless. " We'll get 'em planted real fast, you'll see! I bet they'll grow super tall! Maybe taller than me! " He gave a soft, giggly snort, pawing more gently now as he cleared a better spot. " But not taller than you, 'cause you're like... a flower expert and tall. " The joke was clumsy, clearly meant to lift her spirits, and the grin on his face never wavered.

Because pretending was easier than stopping. And if they could make a patch of bright blooms rise from all this broken ground... maybe he'd start to believe in pretty things again too.

And as Merrystalk and Molewhisker too came to help, he watched in wonder, mouth agape. " Wow, wow...! You know so much, Molewhisker! Dun' he, Meadowpaw? " he chirped, looking over at the fellow apprentice with wide eyes. This place was going to look so good, yup, yup. It was going to be the prettiest home they had and nothing would touch it. No fire, no death-- The thought trailed away from him, a tremble, a glitch in the mind before he shook some dirt off and clumsily smoothened some fur on his shoulder.

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[Meadowpaw]

Sitting in the dark waiting on the stars
Thinking through all the places that you've been

.

Short claws scraped at the surface of the soil, dragging thin lines through the hardened earth but doing little else. A glance toward Dustystar, whose own feverish digging yielded similar results.

"Y–yeah, they need to be a touch deeper than that. Meadowpaw panted, pausing to examine the shallow hole Merrystalk had managed. She let out a soft, frustrated huff as she turned back to the shallow hole she dug.

Slumping slightly, she tried to mask her disappointment, offering Pebblepaw a small, crooked smile. "I'd like to think I do. She murmured sweetly. "I'm glad you like them, Pebblepaw." His cheerful attitude did perk her up, if only a little.

"I don't think I'm that tall though." She added with a breathy giggle, trying to play along with him.

When Molewhisker approached, she lifted her head toward him. "Yeah… I probably should've checked the dirt first. I'm sorry, everyone." She glanced down at the stubborn ground again, frowning. The frost of leaf-bare was long gone, yet the soil was packed tight, unyielding. Maybe she should've waited for rain or chose a different spot altogether. Her gaze swept the grass, green and eager to grow. It had seemed promising…

"I thought the abundance of grass meant it'd be good soil." She murmured, responding to Molewhisker's observations. "Ragwort grows well in any soil too… so it's not like we can't plant anything but..." A mistake was made on her part. She overestimated the quality of the soil and how difficult it would be to dig.

But then she watched as Molewhisker stepped forward, slicing into the earth with practiced claws. Meadowpaw's eyes widen. "W–wow, Molewhisker… you're amazing at this!" The apprentice wastes no time, gently tucking one of the flowers into a freshly dug hollow, using her paw to sweep dirt over the roots with care.

Its next words made her pause, ears perk at the offer. "Can you really?" She stares at him in awe. Molewhisker's knowledge and skill weren't just impressive—they were amazing! She couldn't help but hum in agreement as Pebblepaw chirped beside her.

"You're not interrupting at all." She smiled sweetly, tilting her head back to look at them. "You helped so much already—thank you." She giggled softly, "I probably would've given up digging if you hadn't come along."

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to rely on your knowledge to help us plant the rest?" Meadowpaw won't trouble them if they're busy, but she certainly could use the help. She wasn't proud enough to decline, especially not when the garden meant so much. "Um so, could you please help us a bit more?" Molewhisker tended to keep to himself, and she wanted to respect that, but these flowers weren't just hers. If they were going to bloom, it would take the efforts of them all.


Speech, thoughts/emphasis

8 MOONS

⟢

WINDCLAN

⟢

SONG

⟢

bio

 

[Molewhisker Molewhisker]

——————— Does the wind feel a gladness at the work that it's done?

To admit, Molewhisker was surprised. They couldn't help the smile that wandered upon their face with the apprentice's words. "You small ones are very kind." They purred, softly.

Blinking thoughtfully as they considered what the little calico had to say, they continued to rake up dirt. "Inexperience isn't something to apologise for." They added, looking over to the apprentice and tenderly planting another flower. "Merely a chance to expand what you know. If you didn't try and dig here, you wouldn't have had the chance to learn." Mole nodded, it wasn't as if they sprouted from the ground knowing all this either, it took time. "No one ever knows everything, there would be no joy in the experience if you did. It is why I am always digging, there is always more to understand." They added, curtly. It was nice to discuss simple things with kind cats who were willing to listen, ones who seemed to appreciate what they had to say.

The smile didn't leave Molewhisker, it was a small one, but still there was a crinkle to their eyes hearing an apprentice just as enthused for such simple delights as flower gardens. Though there was more surprise betrayed in their expression, tilting their head as if they may have misheard. "You would like my continued help?" It was one thing these cats did not seem to push them away for their ambling, which most saw as rather benign, it was another that this little calico sought their assistance. Molewhisker looked to the flower bed, the dirt fluffed by the help of many paws, some attempts with hollowing the dirt stronger than others, but still there was an honest and willful attempt to bring some colour into the camp.

They paused for a moment longer before nodding curtly. "No trouble at all, my tunnels and burrows will still be there at the end of the day, I am more than happy to give you assistance with your replanting endeavors." Their smile grew, a warmth to their face very few earned. "I will always lend my help to cats just as dedicated to maintaining the beauty of what gives us all we need."

The chimaera stood up, inspecting the first flower bed with a hum. "With hardened soil, the flowers here will be a trial run, of sorts, if they take root and survive a quarter moon, we can come back and fill it out more." They turned to the tortie tom, surely he meant well, but it was obvious he was no good with his claws, except for hunting, most likely. "Even with rainfall in newleaf, watering is essential for replanted flowers. The small ones are better with their claws. If you could retrieve some water, that would be a greater assistance." Unintentionally blunt was an understatement, but the tom wasn't their focus; if he could learn better to dig, then it would be a different scenario.

"Perhaps we can seek any softer soils for the frailer plants, you smaller two, would be more than capable of maintaining those alone once you can identify such locations." It concluded, looking to Dustystar with a curt smile. "I know you are a busy cat, Dustystar, I can take watch of these two if you have anything to attend to. Or you may come along as you wish, these flowers will not walk themselves across the camp, after all." Part of them sincerely hoped she might, she was pleasant company, not loud nor rude. Blunt, perhaps, but then again so was Molewhisker. Plus it wasn't as if she couldn't benefit from understanding such things too, maybe not for making flower beds, but knowing the environment in which one lives is never a hindrance.

Though they turned again to the little calico, Meadowpaw, as the other little apprentice added, and gestured with their tail to lead the way. "I would like to hear your thought process on where the next flower bed should be, you know a plentiful amount already so it seems, I would like to hear your ideas before I tell you anything directly." It was how they were taught, after all, cats this age shouldn't be underestimated in their logic and intelligence, as most did. Curiosity fueled them at this age, so Molewhisker wanted to assess just how Meadowpaw thought through her actions before giving her direct guidance.

——— I won't go making mountains

out of molehills anymore. ———

• 
  Molewhisker
  ✦—Windclan tunneller
  ✦—They/It
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A soft-spoken, small, red and blue chimera with overly long whiskers.
  #9D9D9D

 

[REDVEIL]

Redveil had walked in silence, nestled near the back of the group with a bundle of wildflowers balanced carefully between his jaws. His paws made little sound across the clearing, and though his tongue never parted to join the conversation, the gentle curve of his smile spoke enough. Ebony pelt sticking haphazardly up with clumps of dried dirt stuck to his pelt. Redveil wasn't much for conversation or getting his paws dirty, but there was a quiet ease in being around others, in sharing space and warmth, even without words.

He moved gently, almost reverently, helping to lower his blooms next to Meadowpaw's with a carefulness, nudging each stem straight. While the others settled into digging, scratching at the reluctant earth with varying degrees of skill, Redveil lingered, offering what help he could. He mostly focused on placing the flowers once holes were made, his gaze flitting between Meadowpaw's determined scrapes and Pebblepaw's chaos with quiet amusement. It was a strange, lively little scene. Even Molewhisker had stepped in, their calm insight drawing Redveil's attention for a long, thoughtful moment. He completely lacked any knowledge of plants, let alone flowers. It was nice to know more, he decided. It was better than the suffocating origins of his own life.

When one flower slipped from his pile, it tumbled gently into the grass beside him. His brown gaze followed it, head tilting ever so slightly. It was small, a pale bloom streaked with yellow and white, fragile and soft-edged, and in the fading light, it glowed like a sunset. His heart rate picked up as his mind connected it to a familiar face. Nervously, he glanced at Merrystalk, but the other seemed wrapped up in their workload.

Something about it stirred a memory. A pelt like that. Soft colors, strong jawed, and beautiful. Someone he hadn't spoken to much since their arrival, but he admittedly had kept tabs, often, from the corners of shared spaces. Redveil blinked once, then leaned down and carefully picked the fallen flower back up between his teeth. Ear tips burning with ideas fluttering about, and chest feeling giddy. He could pass this off as a thank you and nothing more. Plus, there were plenty of others to help pick up his slack as Molewhisker delegated cats for better soil.

With an encouraging nod to himself, the masked cat looked to his clanmates. "I've got something I need to do. I'll be back around." He murmured between clenched teeth, more to the air than anyone in particular. A passing nod was all he offered as he slipped away from the group, his tail vanishing into the tall grass with practiced ease. Where he was going wasn't far, but it was a private thing. Gentle and safe, like the flower between his teeth. Like the cat who reminded him of it. First, he would need a thorough bath before trying to offer anybody a gift.

OOC: In and out! Utilizing this scene for a cute thread ​