Open Event Camp RC treasure hunt at the two leg camp // open

This tag indicates this is an event specific thread.
This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.

Wavesong

Waiting for you...
RiverClan
Warrior
Pearl Diver
99
22
Freshkill
165
Nickname
Wave
Pronouns
She/her
Played by
Lion
{$title} Those twolegs sure seem to enjoy cooking their weird fresh-kill over little fires! They leave some behind, ripe for the taking. Are you interested enough to take a bite?
The ocean is in my soul,
And it's pulling me back to shore.
I'm letting go of the weight that's dragging me down.

.


Sharp eyes were fixated upon the camp ahead, ears pricked and whiskers twitching at the mouth-watering scent that drifted on the breeze. Cooked fish. Her stomach gave a rumble fierce enough to rival the river's current. It felt like forever since she'd tasted such a thing, warm, smoky, soft against the tongue. Her old sea captain had often shared morsels like that with her back in the day, tiny bits of perfection that had made every storm-tossed voyage worth it. Especially the salmon, ah, stars above, the salmon!

For a heartbeat, the memory swept her away, the crack of waves against the hull, the sea-spray on her face, laughter carried by the wind as her captain handed her a share of freshly cooked fish. Then, with a small shake of her head, Wavesong pulled herself back to the present. There was no ship now, only forest, clanmates, and a seemingly abandoned twoleg camp that smelled of smoke and salt. " A'ight. " she murmured, the corners of her mouth curling into a mischievous grin as she looked to those gathered beside her. " Stay close t'me, ye hear? We'll have us a lil' taste o' these fish, cause aye, they're fish, an' they're good, but we move careful. We don't want t'alarm any twolegs if they come back early. " Her tail flicked in emphasis, voice low but playful.

The camp lay eerily still. The twolegs were gone, but their scent clung stubbornly to the ground, thick and strange. She recognized some of the remnants scattered around, bright fabrics, metal tools, blackened stones that still reeked faintly of fire. It stirred another half-memory in her mind, of tales told by the shore. " Ain't this what they do once a season? " she murmured. " Some kinda... Tradition. Can't recall the word no more... " Her gaze returned to the glistening scraps of fish near the cold ashes of the firepit. She licked her lips, crouching low, every muscle coiled.

" Slow an' steady wins th'race. " she whispered to the others, eyes glinting like sunlight on water. Step by step, she crept toward the prize, the promise of warmth, food, and maybe a story to tell later by the riverside. After this, they'd hunt their fill. The river would provide, as it always did, but for now? For now, she'd take this small blessing from the sea and stars alike.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis


41 MOONS
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RIVERCLANNER
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SONG
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bio
 
𓆝 . ° ✦
Brook waited alongside Wavesong, one of the few warriors she was able to recognize on first glance thanks to her presence on that first patrol that met them on the river, watching for any sign of the Twolegs they could scent. Brook may have been a kittypet, but that did not mean he was friendly with every Twoleg that crossed his path! Plus, he was a Clan cat now, which meant he needed to not engage with Twolegs as she would have before.

No more chin scratchies, but a lot more freedom. Probably would end up a fair trade, he supposed.

As Wavesong spoke, he tried to remember the term he referred to, but none of his Twolegs had ever gone to the river this time of year. They *did* decorate their nest and kits would come by for little treats, but this idea of fires by the river was unfamiliar.

"Wish I could tell ya, Wavesong," she mewed softly. "All I remember is something called 'trick or treat.' But I don't think it's this." Though, the scent of the grilled fish was certainly a treat - hopefully there'd be no tricks for the little patrol! Brook crept low to the ground and followed behind the warrior, ears swivelling in search of danger. He nearly stepped on a toasty stone, whisking his paw away in shock, causing the cat to tumble into one of the sticks with the remains of a fish.

It fell into the fire's remains, sizzling and stinging her nose with the burning smell. Well, couldn't let that go to waste! He clamped his jaw around the stick, pulling it out of the fire and through the dirt. Ugh, gross! He started pawing at the top of the fish leftovers, trying to get the dirt off the remaining flesh.
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  • ooc:

  • BROOKSTORM — SHE/HE ・ 41 MOONS ・ RIVERCLAN WARRIOR ・ PENNED BY PLOT ・ SPEECHTHOUGHTS
    A short-furred silver cat with black tabby stripes and scathing green eyes. The carbon copy of his brother Pikestar... only without the scars.
 


∘˙○˚.• KUHLI 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
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Kuhli was naturally curious about what the young people were up to, though they wouldn't admit it in front of the clan cats, since they weren't a kittypet anymore. Instead they joined Wavesong (well, they joined Brook who joined Wavesong) in an expedition to get some of the cooked fish the humans have left to cool, or whatever it is that they were doing with them.

"My twolegs were too old to follow a silly tradition like this." they joined the conversation. "Though I do recall that they would often get a lot of children visitors for one night during leaf-fall and they would give them lots of strange-smelling trinkets." Kuhli thought they understood a lot of things, but this wasn't one of them. They did enjoy brushing against the human children and getting pets though, even if sometimes it would get too much and they would hide in their favorite bed, not wanting to be disturbed.

When Brook stumbled and crashed into one of the fish sticks, Kuhli rushed to his side. "Are you okay?" Brook seemed fine, already scooping out the burning fish, the acrid and smoky smell filling the air. Kuhli wondered if the fish would still be edible - though, it seemed to them that only the surface burned and the meat inside might still be fine. "I think it's still worth bringing back to camp." they decided, though they didn't doubt Brook would come to the same conclusion.

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OOC: n/a