Camp ITS BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE…? ౨ৎ morning frost

[nutmegpurr nutmegpurr]

When Nutmeg wakes up in the morning, its cold, like… Really cold. She shifts from @ROOSTERTUFT, having had stolen his warmth for the night- she really, really wishes she could stay in the confines of a nest that had practically melded together overtime, but she has work to do. Or, rather, a morning run to do first and then work to do. She stretches, and then makes her way to the outskirts of camp, where something catches her eye.

"Hey. You're new," she murmurs, pawing at the frozen sprig of grass. She knows what this is, having had seen it before- later in leaffall and early leafbare, the morning dew turns to morning frost. "Hm." is all she really has to say about it, a curled ear flicking. Memories resurface, of her and Meadow trudging in the snow, in simpler times. Her lips curl upwards for just a moment. "Wonder when it'll start snowing."

GOOD NEWS FOR ANYONE ♡ WHO LOVES BAD NEWS

• a quick little no pressure inspired by the snow i just got…
  
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  NUTMEGPURR ♡
  
  ( gale guard of windclan )​
  ❥ a tall cinnamon tortie with curled ears & pink-brown eyes; well-muscled & fluffy
  ❥ mentored pebblestep
  ❥ sister to meadowpaw & peafowlplume; reluctantly interested in roostertuft
  ❥ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ❥ penned by chuff
  "speech"

 

[Yewkit]

YEWKIT

.

.

Yewkit hasn't been alive for long enough to know what cold is to come in the upcoming moons. The coldest she's ever felt was during the floodings, when she stood submerged in water rising higher and higher.

But lately, it seems that each morning is colder than the one before and today is no different. As Yewkit gets up from her nest in the nursery, she notices her breaths manifesting in front of her in clouds of fogs - her warm breath escaping her lungs and inhaling cold air back in. She has heard of the season changing of course, but didn't expect the change to be so quick and so drastic - she expected it to be less severe, like when the day turns into night and the temperature drops, or when it rains and cools the air down. But now, even with the sun shining bright, she is still cold.

And, despite hearing about it, she has not expected to find what she does outside - the grass to be covered in white and transparent bits - like dew, but solid to the touch, almost sharp if it wasn't so fragile. Yewkit looks around and notices it's not just the grass but everything - every surface and sprout of green is covered in intricate white frost. The slowly rising sun illuminates the moorland camp, light glinting off of the crystals.

The kitten sniffs the frost and her ears and nose immediatelly turn cold, unable to suppress a sneeze. She can do nothing but look in amazement at the sight, wishing only she didn't have to be so cold to be able to witness it.

 

[Pebblestep]

Well you do enough talk
My little hawk, why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We're all gonna die

.

Frost... Cold was returning to the moor, creeping into every blade of grass like it meant to claim the world. Pebblestep stared at the frozen earth beneath his paws, sea-green eyes wide with a fleeting spark of something childlike, remembering, faintly, what this season used to feel like. Snowflakes stuck to fur as Mama Alder called them inside. Warm bodies nestled close. Laughter. Soft purrs. Safety. All of it gone now. The wonder faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a hollow ache. He was still here, breathing, shivering, existing. But he felt like a ghost trapped in a body, something that should've burned up with the barn. A living dead thing. A husk.

Pebblestep... Should've been Pebblehusk... He snorted softly at the thought of the name. A cruel joke, perhaps. A title for a cat who barely knew how to keep moving. His shoulders hunched as he settled near Nutmegpurr and Yewkit, drawn to them without quite understanding why. Maybe because warmth naturally gathered around his mentor and he was endlessly freezing on the inside. A small sneeze broke the quiet. His ears perked, and despite everything, a faint smile pulled at his mouth. Something gentle. Something leftover from who he used to be. " It's... Very cold. " he murmured, voice soft as frost clinging to leaves. Not really asking for conversation. Not expecting it. Just... Speaking.

His gaze softened as it fell on Yewkit. " You should stay warm. " he added, a whisper of concern carefully wrapped in quiet. " We don't want you catching the sniffles. " A tiny flicker of warmth pressed against the ice in his chest. It didn't melt, but it didn't break him, either.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

14 MOONS

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WINDCLANNER

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SONG

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bio

 

[ROOSTERTUFT]

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Roostertuft had been sound asleep with his nest taking in the warmth provided by the other body at his side, he only stirs from his sleep when he feels Nutmegpurr shift around, and its enough to make one of his eyes open up rather lazily. A tired mrrp slips from his jaws as he uses a single paw to push himself upwards so that he's sitting on his haunches, his jaws parting to allow a yawn to slip out, and he shakes some of the nest material from his coat before slowly sauntering over to where everyone else seems to be gathered. A sniff slips out from him as a brow quirks to see Nutmeg pawing at a frozen sprig of grass and he pads over with both of his ears angled forward with a blink of his eyes.

"Well, the best we can do is find more nest materials to keep us warm." He says despite how the grogginess that still hangs above his head makes his words sound a little slurred and he allows his coat to shake out so that he may be more awake and present for this conversation. A small part of his mind wonders if Nutmegpurr would remain at his side through the entirety of leaf-bare but he's swift to replace the thought in pondering if prey would still be able to be found despite the colder weather.

FACES ILLUMINATED IN THE DARK

ROOSTERTUFT

WINDCLAN WARRIOR
TRANS MASC x HE/HIM​

x

"speech", thoughts, attacking
a large, longhaired black smoke tortie/blue ticked tabby chimera with a pair of earthy toned eyes and low white
has complicated feelings towards goldenroar and subtly interested in nutmegpurr

charismatic, stubborn, adventurous, aloof, and awkward would be a few words that describe roostertuft as an individual. a former barncat that's getting accustomed to clan life after the events of the barn burning down, he oftentimes misses the life before it burnt down yet he's someone who'll adapt to change.