Private ShadowClan I set myself on fire just to know what its like to be warm 𓍊𓋼𓆏𓋼𓍊 — Timber

[F l e a p a w]

The wind howled against the nursery walls, rattling the bramble walls like claws trying to tear their way in. The rain drummed against the den's roof, and every so often, a gust of wind sent a spray of cold droplets through the cracks. Fleapaw curled tighter around her ratty teddy bear, pressing her nose into its worn, matted fur. It didn't smell like anything anymore—not her two legs, not the streets, not even the mill. Just mildew and age.

It was just a stupid storm. She wasn't scared. She didn't get scared…

But her ears pressed tighter against her skull and her tail curled around herself. The storm raged on—reminding her of cold metal—the sour stench of two leg garbage and rust—the wind howling like hounds—rain pelting ruthlessly above.

Flea was used to riding it out on her own.

A clap of thunder split the air so loud it made her flinch, heart pounding against her ribs. Her claws dug into Ma as she tried to tuck her face further into its side, she shivered, clinging to what little warmth the teddy provided.

She peeks up over her nest, amber eyes wandering the nursery—searching. Where she expects to find brown fur, lies partially empty. She spots Stoat's white pelt, but the brown tom is gone.

Where is he? Why isn't he here? Not that she even cared. He could… go soak his head in the mud pit. But… She stands upright and flops out of her nest, only turning back to grab Ma.

Flamerunner is gone too. He had been glued to her ever since she got sick. She chased him off to his own nest, but now, bristling against the cold, a small tinge of regret follows her.

It takes some effort to pull the teddy bear with her. She clutches an arm in her jaws, hobbling around, flinching as another roar of thunder shakes the brambles. She frantically checks the other nests, scanning every inch of the dark nursery before her eyes land on a tall silhouette just outside the entranceway.

She jumps a little, not expecting anyone to be there. She recognizes them immediately.

Timberfrost.

He was sitting there, staring out into the storm like a weirdo. Flea drags the teddy with her, huffing as she tosses it down with a soggy plop. She sits down, sandwiched between him and her teddy, leaving a sizable gap in between. Fleapaw hesitates a little, looking up at him before speaking up. "The heck are you doin' up'? You.. cant sleep?" Fleapaw slouches, paws over her tail to keep her pads off the cold ground.

​

shes got a knife ▬ι═ﺤ stab stab

• ooc: —— Ma = The ratty old teddy bear that she carries around. It was given to her by her former two-legs. She calls it Ma, after her mother.
• 
  I extend my hand like a mob boss and allow you to kiss my ring but when you lean closer you see its one of those glow-in-the-dark spider rings you win at arcades [MUNCH] you disrespec me - and eat my spooky spida ring! which cost me 50 tickets at funtime arcade and pizzeria. VINNY! Hit her with da sticky hand!​
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• FLEAKIT / FLEAPAW / FLEABITE
  - she/her
  - apprentice
  - 6 moons
  - speech thought
  - some physical powerplay permitted
  
  
  penned by user​

​

​

 

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

Old habits die hard, even Timber knew this. Knowing this, he wasn't surprised at all when he couldn't let himself sleep at night, especially this night. It had been a very, very windy few days, the gale carrying with it earthy smells of rain from somewhere far off. Finally, the warning had come true, and the sky had split open, dousing all that was in its path. Unfortunately, the storm's intensity seemed to only increase as the night wore on, and naturally Timber couldn't help but sit and watch. Realistically, he knew he couldn't do much if something did go wrong, but at least he would be the first to know.

His eyes narrowed a bit as a loud clap of thunder shook the den, tail flicking with displeasure. The den was sturdy enough, but with every creak of the walls, he found himself adding to a mental list of things to do the next day. The tom could practically already feel the ache in his bones from the work that would have to be done, but he'd do it anyway. He had to, there were far too many young kits in the nursery to not.

Seeing a glimpse of movement from the side, he tilted his head curiously—and found himself looking down at Fleapaw, dragging her little fluffy thing along with her. He had never questioned much about it, and he didn't think he ever would. He would pretend it didn't exist for as long as Flea wanted him to.

At her words, though, he looked over at her fully. "Mm... You could say that." He replied quietly, a sort of tired, haven't-spoken-in-hours quality to his voice clear. The chocolate tom paused for a moment, watching the torrential storm outside. "I'm just watching the storm, really. Keeping an eye out." Timber looked back towards the russet-colored apprentice, raising an inquisitive brow. "The better question is what are you doing up?"

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• 
  Timber
  ✦—Shadowclan Caregiver
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[F l e a p a w]

She huffed, scrunching up her nose at him. What a bastard he was flipping that around on her like she was the weird one for being awake. "What, I can't take a nightly stroll?" She bristles, her usual sharp-edged tone softened only slightly by how sleepy she still was.

Fleakit just flopped down, resting her chin dramatically on top of Ma, ears twitching at the pelting of rain against the peaty soil. "'M just sittin. So mind your business." She mumbled, tail landing against the sopping ground with a plop.

But then another sharp clap of thunder sent rain spraying sideways through the brambles, and her fur bristled before she could stop it. She hoped the bang swallowed her squeak, but just in case she scrambled last second to mask it with a yawn, flexing her paws out in front of her like she was the most relaxed cat in the entire damn world.

She wasn't scared. She wasn't scared, NOT even a little. Not of the storm, not of the wind rattling the nursery walls like it was gonna rip the whole damn thing up, not of the roaring sky that sounded way too much like hounds howling in the distance.

But whether she realized it or not, she was trembling, furiously kneading her bear, tiny nails pricking at the bear's sopping fur. No warmth to be felt from it, only the tiniest of cold comforts. Suddenly she wanted to be back in the medicine den, buried in plumes of warm fur, tongue bristles scraping the muck off her ears while she scowled, muffling her purr with growls. Flea buried her chin in Ma's fur, frowning. Would he notice if she scooched just... a little closer?

shes got a knife ▬ι═ﺤ stab stab

• ooc: —— Ma = The ratty old teddy bear that she carries around. It was given to her by her former two-legs. She calls it Ma, after her mother.
• 
  I extend my hand like a mob boss and allow you to kiss my ring but when you lean closer you see its one of those glow-in-the-dark spider rings you win at arcades [MUNCH] you disrespec me - and eat my spooky spida ring! which cost me 50 tickets at funtime arcade and pizzeria. VINNY! Hit her with da sticky hand!​
  ​
• FLEAKIT / FLEAPAW / FLEABITE
  - she/her
  - apprentice
  - 6 moons
  - speech thought
  - some physical powerplay permitted
  
  
  penned by user​

​

​