Camp WOOF WOOF 🐝 mossball…?

[HONEYCOMBKIT HONEYCOMBKIT]

Mossball has quickly become her favorite game of all time since she has figured out it existed. She's made sure to win each of her championship games, because if shes less than perfect at it, well… There'd be no need to play at all, then.

Today, though, its been hard to find an opponent. Normally they could just roll a ball around, and another kit would try to initiate the game, and they'd play, but… Maybe its cause its so hot, or maybe its cause the sun is harsh, but no one had been biting…! They've been rolling this ball under their paw for what feels like forever and they're starting to get frustrated with it.

An idea comes, at long last, and Honeycomb picks their victim. They do not discriminate, whether its a warrior or another kit, they WILL have someone play with them eventually. Once they've been picked, they drop in to something between a guarding position and a hunting crouch.

Honeycomb tenses, studying her target to make sure they don't move away and then… She kicks the ball straight at her victim, a little bit too hard, but thankfully mossballs are soft, right…?

SO WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ♡ WHEN THE WORLD DON'T ORBIT AROUND YOU

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•  
• 
  HONEYCOMBKIT ♡
  
  ( kitten of windclan )​
  ❥ small but stocky ticked chocolate tabby mink w/high white
  ❥ sweetnose x honeyflower; sibling to lotuskit & bunnykit
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed & welcomed
  ❥ penned by chuff
  
  "speech"

 

[PEONYPAW]

The sweltering sun must have it out for WindClan that day because its rays beat down mercilessly on the moorland, only increasing the already-high temperatures. Peonypaw is lucky to possess such short fur, but even that cannot keep the bay at heat forever. At least he can escape it while within the tunnels. He yearns to go back down now, too, but his stomach has been protesting such endeavors, and- well, Peonypaw isn't diligent enough to resist his body's calling. He is happy to stop working.

Evidently, not everyone is so keen on letting him take a moment to himself. (Not that he hasn't been doing that already, every day.) Peonypaw grabs the first thing off the fresh-kill pile, leans down with his mouth already open, and something rolls into him just before he can seal the deal. He freezes like that, eyes scorching the ground before him while his brain processes the interruption.

Slowly, unwillingly, Peonypaw straightens up and turns his head to the side as much as he can afford to without moving the rest of his body. The icy blue of his eyes land on Honeycombkit; one amongst the newest members of WindClan. At least they and their siblings don't cry nearly as much anymore.

Without saying a single thing, Peonypaw flits the mossball back towards Honeycombkit, using his tail to toss it. Whether he's actually enjoying the activity remains a mystery...

 

[GOLDENROAR]

He's been trying to stay in any shade he potentially can- hell, he's even considering bothering Meadowpaw to let him duck his head into the den hiding the herbs away. He's stretched out on moss he soaked with water not too long ago, but even that already feels like it's roasting him alive. Goldenroar's eyes are squinted off in the distance, watching a lazy fly swirl overhead when he hears the tell-tale smack of a paw against moss. Aqua eyes turn to peer towards the situation across camp. Honeycombkit, one of Sweetnose's and Honeyflower's, initiating a game with Peonypaw.

Now his interest is piqued. Goldenroar rolls onto his stomach, sitting up to properly peer towards the situation. Mossball is a good tool to teach kits how their limbs function, agility, the like. The kits that really liked mossball, he thinks, did better into their apprenticeship. (Or, just as they got older, back in the barn. His stomach kind of hurts thinking about how much cooler they'd be in the barn's shade right now.) Goldenroar shifts his vision towards Peonypaw as he slowly straightens up, remains silent, and tosses it back with his tail. Amusement writes itself onto Goldenroar's face, leaning back on his haunches to silently observe the impromptu game of mossball that Peonypaw got volun-told into.

_______________________ I KEEP RUNNIN' BUT ☼ I'M STANDING STILL _______________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• GOLDENROAR he/him, windclan deputy, thirty nine moons.
  ☆ a lh golden red marbled tabby with low white and glimmering aqua eyes. often seen with a smirk, confidence oozing from him in heaps, but always the ever-helpful guy.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring dandelionpaw
  ☆ older brother to merry
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  
  ☆ mini by tasmagoric, ref image by dallas (yours truly!)

 

[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 stared at the kit. Stared very hard. As if, by sheer force of will, the kit might suddenly sprout a love for tunnels and start digging straight into the nursery floor. But Honeycombkit was still small. Wobbly. All downy fluff and bright eyes, too young yet to understand the comfort of dirt or the calm that came from being surrounded on all sides by earth. She tilted her head. Honeycomb... Was that because her mother had rasped her tongue over her and thought, hmm, yes, honey, and the name had just come out that way? Or maybe it was simpler... A nod to her mother, Honeyflower, but not quite the same. A name close to hers, but different enough to be hers alone.

Weaselchirp leaned forward slightly, scrunkly whiskers twitching, her gaze distant as she watched the little kit bat a mossball across the floor with unsteady paws. And then the mossball was gone. Swiped clean from Honeycombkit's grasp, bumped into another young cat. Her gaze snapped to the side, ears flicking as she locked her wide orange eyes on Peonypaw. She blinked, slowly. Thoughtfully. Watching as the fellow tunneler used his tail to get the mossball back to Honeycombkit. " A good sweep. " she meowed, as if continuing a conversation only she had been having. " Tails can be very useful. Not only above, but underground too, certainly. " With no further explanation, she toddled away, paws light and unhurried, and settled herself beside Goldenroar. She didn't look at him right away, her eyes remained fixed on the younger ones tumbling through the camp, little lives unfolding like petals.

And then, in that same sudden-soft tone of hers, she finally spoke. " One time I laid down and didn't get up for a whole moon. Emotionally. " She blinked once, then turned to look at him. " It gets tiring. Being tired with a part of yourself. And sometimes, when you can't fix it, the ground helps. You lie down long enough and it starts to hold you like it understands. It's almost like a rebirth, but... not quite. " She didn't elaborate. Just stared ahead, tail lightly flicking, her strange comfort lingering in the air like dust caught in a sunbeam.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

66 MOONS

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WINDCLANNER

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SONG

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bio

 

[HONEYCOMBKIT HONEYCOMBKIT]

She hits Peonypaw. Ice blue eyes meet hers, he stares. She stares back. He keeps staring and so does she, rigid, unknowingly mimicking his tense posture. She could do this all day, but really, she hopes he throws it back to her.

Their wish is answered in the form of a tail scooping up the mossball and tossing it back. No words are spoken, but there is no need to fill the space with empty conversation, not when there was a quiet understanding… Or was there? Eyes light up ever so slightly as it soars towards them, easily caught by going on their hindlegs to snatch it from the air. She likes this game, she likes mossball, and she tries not to let Weaselchirp get to her. Who cares that she thinks Peonypaws sweep was good enough to be praised! And shes certainly not going underground anytime soon… Thankfully, Weaselchirp shuffles more towards Goldrenroar, and she doesn't have to try to wrap her head around anything else.

Eyes flit down below to the mossball.

She takes it between her claws, flexing her pawpads over it as she digs talons in deep to the ball to get a good grip. She takes a step back, wiggles her haunches for good measure and chucks it straight back with all the might tiny legs could muster. They shuffle backwards, wordless, but expectant all the same: throw it far, is what their expression conveys. She likes a good chase, after all.

SO WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ♡ WHEN THE WORLD DON'T ORBIT AROUND YOU

• 
  
•  
• 
  HONEYCOMBKIT ♡
  
  ( kitten of windclan )​
  ❥ small but stocky ticked chocolate tabby mink w/high white
  ❥ sweetnose x honeyflower; sibling to lotuskit & bunnykit
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed & welcomed
  ❥ penned by chuff
  
  "speech"