Rise and Whine! (Camp clean-up)

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] Viperfang groaned in her sleep. She was running over the moor... across Fourtrees... Into ThunderClan territory. The sky was blocked. She couldn't see Silverpelt! Darkness surrounded her, but it was disturbingly familiar. She ran on, dodging tree trunks and hopping over logs and rocks. This wasn't her home. However many memories it held, it wasn't home. She stopped in her tracks, lost in a familiar place. Why was she here? ThunderClan was the last place she wanted to be! Then again... there were a couple of cats she'd like to meet up with... Hostility gripped Viperfang like the branches of a bramble bush. There was a scent in the air, unmistakable. She lunged forward, claws outstretched. A screech and a kiss came from a faceless cat, but the pelt was clear enough. Soon, the face was clear. It was her sister's, Snakeheart. She pelted forward, digging her fangs into her sister's neck. She'd called her a traitor at the last Gathering. She'd never say such things again. A shuffling sound stirred the warrior from her sleep. Viperfang opened her eyes to see that she had been fidgeting in her sleep, knocking sand around and trashing her tail against some nearby bushes. She blinked at the bright sunlight. That was the only thing she didn't like about sleeping out in the open- waking up and staring at the sun. "Reminder to self," she growled as she slowly dragged herself to her paws, "Face west while sleeping." She stretched out her front legs, extending her claws and giving a great, loud yawn. "I hate mornings," she grumbled when she plopped her rump down on the sand. She lifted a back leg and scratched behind her ear, the rattling in her brain knocking out the memory of being on cleaning duty this morning. She put her foot down and looked around for her cleaning buddies- whoever was in camp. Vixenstar had ordered Hawkfang to organize this, hadn't she? Where was he? Word Count: 328 Audience: Clean up crew (&Charredoak?) Comments: None

[tenacious]

So he was supposed to sleep outside, whatever. He had gotten cold halfway through the night and Hawkfang didn’t plan on organizing this cleaning party looking like a piece of sky that had suddenly sprouted legs and whiskers. Within the make-shift den (an old fox den, it seemed) Hawkfang soundly slept on, his flank rising and falling gently. Beneath the earth, there was no vicious sun beating on his back to wake him; it was the sound of a grumbling cat that woke the deputy. He wasn’t usually a light sleeper, but seeing as he had woken many times during the night, it was no surprise he’d wake up to the sound of an ill tempered cat.

Hawkfang stood and slowly padded out of the den; he blinked in surprise as he looked up at the sun. Well, he had slept far longer then he had meant to. Hawkfang gave his ruffled chest fur a quick lick and washed his face before padding towards Viperfang, “I see you’re up,” he mewed, “Ready to build up this camp?” he added, sweeping his gaze around WindClan’s camp as he spoke to her.

[Sparrow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] The moonlight held no warmth, nor did the frost on the light-dappled forest floor hold any real comfort to the red tom as he wandered here and there, his head hung low between his forelegs. Pawtracks dotted the frost in every direction, traces of his bewildered wanderings, and as the moon moved slowly across the sky, his eyes never turned once from the frozen earth mere centimeters from his muzzle. He hadn't slept for days - he couldn't - it was too hard to stop thinking about the gnawing feeling in his stomach and what it may be. Anger, disappointment, sadness? No, none of those. It held no warmth or resentment in it, apart from the touch of self-loathing that he could positively identify. Nothing at all to indicate what it was that he needed to do. Dreaming might have helped, for he believed in all of that mystic mumbo-jumbo that the medicine cats fed the clans, but to dream you needed to sleep first and, well, there was your self-eating orange. Quite the paradox. The sky grew lighter and lighter as the night faded into memory, the birdsong growing in the trees until it resembled something like the river gorge in noise level. Shaking his head to clear it, Charredoak looked up at a particularly noisy robin perched overhead with indignation before looking about him in confusion. He stood at the base of the great rock at Fourtrees, facing its base and only a tail-length between it and his nose. Frost shone all around it in glittering patterns, and as the sky faded to a pale peach colour above, he sighed and curled at its base, looking at the rapidly disappearing condensation on its surface. The birdsong was quiet here, empty though it was, and he sighed, resting his head on his paws. “…What should I do?...” A faint breeze blew through the clearing, the faint scent of WindClan carried on the gust and the warm scent of heather tickled his nose. He sneezed, standing up and looking out over the moors as the breeze carried on through the forest. Looking up at the sky, the morning star shone faintly above him, and he scowled at it skeptically. “I don’t know who you are, but I hope that you know what you’re doing.” His pawsteps in the frost vanished as he left the shade of the forest to dash headlong amongst the purple heather, the prickly stalks raking through his long fur. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He reached the camp shortly after the sun rose fully above the horizon, his pelt mussed and tangled with bits of twigs and dirt stuck pell-mell into it. Standing near the dip, his heart raced, but he sat down and caught his breath, not bothering to groom his pelt. From where he sat, he could hear Viperfang’s irritable growl. Not a morning glory, eh? Before another, unfamiliar and decidedly masculine voice “I see you’re up. Ready to build up this camp?” With an excited chuckle, the fox-red tom poked his head above the edge of the dip and leapt down into the camp, his forelegs buckling beneath him. As he slid across the camp’s floor in an undignified bundle of red fur to rest at Hawkfang’s paws, he smiled weakly up at the small tabby, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “About time… I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limp for a second or two before getting unsteadily to his feet. Shaking some of the dust from his pelt, he smiled apologetically. “Where do we start?” word count: 598 audience: Viperfang/Hawkfang/Whoever comments: Zomg drama!

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “I see you’re up. Ready to build up this camp?” Viperfang turned to see Hawkfang coming out of an old fox hole. She smirked and twitched her whiskers in amusement. He must have spent the night in there! It must be uncomfortable for him to sleep out in the open yet. Or maybe his leafbare fur had dropped off too quickly. 'Aww,' she thought, 'Big bad deputy can't hack it so near StarClan?' The words were about to leave her mouth when a familiar tangle of red fur crashed into the camp and sped toward Hawkfang. Viperfang hissed in surprise as it passed her and was about to yowl for the deputy to look out before it stopped right in front of him. “About time… I thought you’d never ask. Where do we start?” "Charredoak!" Viperfang yowled out excitedly. The she-cat jumped up and sprang forward at the tom, purring as she nuzzled his face. A split second later, the warrior pricked her ears and jumped back, her tail twitching uneasily. "What in StarClan's name are you doing here?" It should be explained that Charredoak had been with her when she found the camp, which was how he had come to stumble into it. Viperfang, however, had left that little tid-bit out when she had told the cats how she had come upon the hidden home. The knowledge that a non-WindClanner knowing where their camp was would have been too upsetting to the new Clan. Only Viperfang had trusted the tom to keep the secret. She hoped he would be able to keep his giant trap shut about it here as well. Word Count: 272 Audience: Clean up crew/Charredoak Comments: None

[Sparrow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “Charredoak!” An earsplitting shriek met his ears at his arrival, and Charredoak winced, flattening his abused ears gingerly as Viperfang pounced at him, purring her greetings as she pressed her face against his for a split second. His eyes widened slightly and he started in surprise, his ears pricking back upwards even as she leapt back, her tail twitching in agitation as she did so. Her next words came slowly, questioningly, her tone… distrustful. "What in StarClan's name are you doing here?" As if she didn’t know what he was doing there… or maybe she really didn’t – it wouldn’t be quite fair to assume that she knew that he would have come so soon, or if he would have followed at all. But all the same! It would have been pleasant to have known that she had even the slightest confidence in him. If nothing else, he’d keep his promise. “What, ask me what I’m doing in my own camp? And after I’ve spent all night wandering around the moors looking for this blasted camp… well, there’s gratitude for you.” Though his voice was carefully bitter and his words biting, gis ears twitched playfully. Finished speaking, he smiled weakly before sitting down and shaking his head as his vision swam with vague sparkles. He didn’t bother looking at Viperfang, instead concentrating his eyes and his attention on the former RiverClan warrior, challenging him to say a word against his story. His voice rose again, confident even as it remained a whisper. “You may check for my scents among the moor grasses. I’m sure you’ll find my tale to be quite accurate. Now, what needs to be done?” word count: 277 audience: Viperfang/Hawkfang/Whoever comments: Crap post, and short too!

[tenacious]

A fish leaping out of the water had once startled Hawkfang when he was an apprentice; so had an adder slithering up the river bank towards him. They were nothing like a random cat leaping into the WindClan camp. Hawkfang’s eyes widened and his neck fur rose with alarm as he took a step back, staring down at the tom before him, too stunned to say anything right away. Charredoak spoke and Hawkfang was about to ask him what in StarClan’s name was he doing here when Viperfang let out let out an excited yowl.

The normally prickly warrior leapt forward, rubbing her muzzle against Charredoak for a moment. But it only lasted for a heartbeat. Hawkfang narrowed his eyes at the sign of affection. Had Viperfang had a mate back in ThunderClan?

“What, ask me what I’m doing in my own camp? And after I’ve spent all night wandering around the moors looking for this blasted camp… well, there’s gratitude for you.

““You may check for my scents among the moor grasses. I’m sure you’ll find my tale to be quite accurate. Now, what needs to be done?”

Hawkfang narrowed his eyes; this cat had not stepped forward at the Gathering. This Charredoak had no right to be here, “I can find the scent of a badger among the grasses of this moorland, but that doesn’t mean they’re welcome in WindClan camp. How did you find it?” he added, ignorant to the fact that Viperfang had first found the camp with this tom.

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “What, ask me what I’m doing in my own camp? And after I’ve spent all night wandering around the moors looking for this blasted camp… well, there’s gratitude for you." Viperfang purred in amusement and relief. The crazy tom was still keeing him muzzle shut. Good. “You may check for my scents among the moor grasses. I’m sure you’ll find my tale to be quite accurate. Now, what needs to be done?” “I can find the scent of a badger among the grasses of this moorland, but that doesn’t mean they’re welcome in WindClan camp. How did you find it?” "Probably the usual," Viperfang mewed quickly, "Blundering about and tripping into it, taking out a deputy in the process. You nearly knocked him back in the den, Charredoak. Well done." Viperfang hid her nervousness for now, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep the fur along her spine down flat. If the red tom's speech was anything like his feet, he might slip up and tell their secret. Couldn't let that happen, so the she-cat turned to Hawkfang quickly changed the subject. "I'd invited him to join us before the Gathering. He wasn't sure then, but I guess he's made up his mind..." she told him, then she turned to the long furred cat, "Have you?" Her voice had hardened into a serious tone. Hawkfang wasn't going to believe him if he answered lightly. At the very least, she could probably convince him to let him stay until Vixenstar got back so she could decide wether to accept him or not. Word Count: 264 Audience: Clean up crew/Charredoak Comments: None

[Sparrow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “I can find the scent of a badger among the grasses of this moorland, but that doesn’t mean they’re welcome in WindClan camp. How did you find it?” As the brown tabby tom stared at him with blue eyes blazing, Charredoak’s own amber gaze remained level and calm. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed, but considering that he only knew two of the warriors and that he hadn’t stood with them at the Gathering, it was only to be expected. The fact that his presence had insulted the little scrap to such an extent, however, was an event that he had not expected… and not a surprise that was at all unpleasant. The silly warrior seemed to think that he was a threat, after all. It was with something like amusement, then, that he purred quietly at Hawkfang’s angry words, his narrow face slashed with the marks of a sarcastic smile. Whiskers twitching and his ears pricked to their fullest extent, his mouth was opened to speak when he was temporarily silenced by Viperfang’s hasty response. "Probably the usual, blundering about and tripping into it, taking out a deputy in the process. You nearly knocked him back in the den, Charredoak. Well done.” His face remained in a smile, more pleasant this time, but the warmth faded as he looked back to Hawkfang and opened his mouth once more. Once again, Viperfang’s words silenced him, and he looked at her in a sort of exasperated amusement. The small tabby she-cat, as far as he could tell, was among the most intelligent that he had met and she had the looks and personality to match, though she was significantly lacking in one area. She couldn’t tell stories to save her life. "I'd invited him to join us before the Gathering. He wasn't sure then, but I guess he's made up his mind... Have you?" His reply came then, directed at Viperfang first, his voice polite and bored. “I don’t blunder! I must say that I’ve been the picture of grace since the moment I was born, and I was simply showing off what the swallows taught me this morning. Haven’t you ever seen a swoop before? But thank you for the compliment, I do try you know.” His voice took on a different tone, one more bitterness, though it was simply more fakery on his part. “Indeed, you did invite me, but shame for not giving me more notice.” Directing his thoughts towards Hawkfang now, he smiled maliciously. “As for your question, I’m going to have to admit that it’s highly unlikely that you’re among the best and the brightest of the moorlands, sir. Didn’t I just say that I’d been hightailing it all night long hoping to find your bloody camp? One would think that a statement like that would make it quite clear as to how I found you, but apparently you need me to speak simply in order to extract whatever meaning my sentences may hold. It is, however, rather flattering that you consider me to be so... dangerous.” An unfamiliar emotion caught in his throat and he swiped a paw over his ear in irritation, dislodging a cloud of dust and twigs from his fur as he did so. Whatever it was, it tasted like bile in the back of his mouth… guilt, dislike… no… Jealousy? That was it. Jealousy that Hawkfang had been able to take the leap to cross the borders before he did. Hopefully Viperfang would understand. “Your next question is probably why I came, eh?” His voice was quiet, low and irritated. “I came because I know where my loyalties lie. My leader is gone, her former deputy is here, and I have nothing left for me in ThunderClan.” He left the last reason unspoken. Never mind that his cheek might prompt the deputy to run him out as fast as his legs would carry him, it was good to be home. “Now, instead of looking the gift mouse in the mouth, how about you put good enough to good use?” word count: 678 audience: Viperfang/Hawkfang/Whoever comments: He's grumpy 'cause he's tired :3

[tenacious]

Viperfang hastily spoke before Charredoak could and the tom’s blue eyes switched over to the she-cat for a moment. He listened to red tom in silence, fur lying flat now that no cats were randomly falling down at his paws. “As for your question, I’m going to have to admit that it’s highly unlikely that you’re among the best and the brightest of the moorlands, sir. Didn’t I just say that I’d been hightailing it all night long hoping to find your bloody camp? One would think that a statement like that would make it quite clear as to how I found you, but apparently you need me to speak simply in order to extract whatever meaning my sentences may hold. It is, however, rather flattering that you consider me to be so... dangerous.”

A light hiss slipped into the air and Hawkfang’s eyes flashed; he was quite tempted to run the insolent tom off of WindClan territory, but this cat was ThunderClan. He didn’t think Vixenstar would be too happy if he chased off a cat that could join WindClan, espiecally if she knew him; nor did he feel like getting clawed by Viperfang. So he simply remained silent, taking a few breathes while organizing his thoughts.

“You are not a WindClanner- I suggest you resist from attempting to insult a cat’s intelligence until you get your own head checked,” he could not keep a light growl out of his voice, “Therefore, you will not be doing anything until I am able to speak to Vixenstar as to whether or not you will be let into our ranks,” he grunted, tail tip twitching as he looked away from Charredoak, towards the spot where Vixenstar usually slept.

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] Viperfang pinned her ears back when she heard Charredoak speak about Hawkfang's intelligence. True, the she-cat was questioning it at the moment, but really, who could blame the former RiverClanner? Up against two ex-ThunderClan cats and being forced to trust the word of a tom who just stumbled into camp? Yes, she could see why it was so tough for him. But he was going about it all wrong. “You are not a WindClanner- I suggest you resist from attempting to insult a cat’s intelligence until you get your own head checked. Therefore, you will not be doing anything until I am able to speak to Vixenstar as to whether or not you will be let into our ranks.” "Unless I'm mistaken, Hawkfang," the warrior interrupted, taking a step forward, "I do believe Vixenstar has gone to Highstones with Blackmoon. Since you obviously don't trust Charredoak, we can keep an eyes on him and not let him leave camp. But why not put him to work while we wait for Vixenstar to return? It's the least he could do for nearly killing you when he 'swooped' in here." Viperfang's tail twitched in annoyance. Between the wordy red-coated tom and the untrusting tabby, her patience was running thin. She had vowed to keep her temping in check, though, while the Clan was being rebuilt. It would be a few seasons, she guessed, before she could truly believe that her new Clanmates would be able to handle her prickly nature. "He could dust off the Tallrock," she suggested, twitching her whiskers in amusement, "His tail is perfect for that." Word Count: 267 Audience: Clean up crew/Charredoak Comments: None

[tenacious]

Ah, yes, Highstones; he had momentarily forgotten that due to his irritation. Hawkfang eyed the red tom before flicking his tail. What could the warrior do? Obviously Charredoak could not go out of camp- oh, no, the brown tabby was not as dim as the warrior seemed to think he was. But they would have to gather some supplies, he supposed; cats in Blackmoon’s den would probably like a soft bed. What could be used for bedding out here, seeing as moss was not easy to come by.

Soft grass and feathers, Hawkfang thought to himself; well, there was enough grass that wasn’t too hard around camp, so that’d be easy. But what else? Gah! It’d be easier if he knew what the camp had looked like before, far easier if he didn’t think firstly about adding dens. Sleeping outside…but surely not on just the hard ground? They would need a nursery prepared, for the current kits. Yes, well, they could do that; “You can gather some soft grass and feathers around camp. Then you both can make nest for the nursery,” he knew the kits would be apprenticed soon, but that didn’t mean they didn’t need a place to rest for now.

[Sparrow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “You are not a WindClanner- I suggest you resist from attempting to insult a cat’s intelligence until you get your own head checked. Therefore, you will not be doing anything until I am able to speak to Vixenstar as to whether or not you will be let into our ranks.” Charredoak snorted derisively, his amber gaze lingering on the small tabby’s furious face. It appeared as though he wasn’t making any friends with the deputy, but never mind that now, it couldn’t be helped if he was to keep his promise. Seem too friendly and Hawkfang would suspect him as being a spy or something dramatic like that, seem too uninterested and Hawkfang would suspect him of hiding something in addition to the prior suspicions. It appeared as though he would be suspected of something no matter what he did now, but unfriendliness would incite more in the way of anger and resentment than suspicion. And dislike was less likely to bar his way into the Clan. “So being a WindClan cat will improve my intelligence, you say? That’s an unexpected perk. Although… in that case I must be wrong in my prior presumptions. You’re deaf and not dumb then. And I must say that it’s only to be expected that I be subjected to interrogation, being as I waited to make my entrance into the middle of things. Though I do wonder... Is WindClan really so strong at this early date that you can afford to turn a willing warrior away?” His voice was casual, nonchalant, but his tone held the faintest hint of a smile. He knew the leader, not personally, but by reputation, and she wasn’t stupid – not by a long shot. Her deputy was obviously cut of the same cloth but, so far as he could tell, wasn’t nearly as comfortable with the Clan setup as-so-far. They wouldn’t turn him away at this time, not without great risk, or so he hoped. His chances of getting what he wanted, however, were fairly promising. So he smiled like a bratty kit about to get its way. Unless I'm mistaken, Hawkfang, I do believe Vixenstar has gone to Highstones with Blackmoon. Since you obviously don't trust Charredoak, we can keep an eye on him and not let him leave camp. But why not put him to work while we wait for Vixenstar to return? It's the least he could do for nearly killing you when he 'swooped' in here. He could dust off the Tallrock. His tail is perfect for that." Twitching his ears, the tom laughed, wondering apprehensively as to whether the rather irritated-looking she-cat was joking. “Eloquently put, as always, Viperfang…” he maiowed, his gaze shifting slightly to glance questioningly at her from the corner of his eyes. //How am I doing here? Is this going well or not?// Apparently her words held some truth and weight in the camp, however, as Hawkfang looked at her thoughtfully before responding in a more pleasant tone. Glancing at the tom again, Charredoak tilted his head to one side, wondering whether it was irritation, stress, or a combination of the two that weighed so heavily on the tabby, but was cut short in his analysis as the deputy opened his mouth to speak once again. “You can gather some soft grass and feathers around camp. Then you both can make nest for the nursery.” //Kits already? WindClan must be growing rather quickly then. How pleasant.// He’d have someone to play with then, if he were to join. Looking over at Viperfang now, he waited for her to do something. It was obvious that he wasn’t to go gallivanting off on his own any time soon. word count: 616 audience: Viperfang/Hawkfang/Whoever comments: Zomg drama!

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] “Eloquently put, as always, Viperfang…” 'Yeah right,' the she-cat thought as she rolled her eyes, 'Rarely, if that.' Charredoak was the eloquent one. Right now, however, he was testing the deputy's patience with his large supply of words. If he didn't shut up soon, he was sure to get a set of claws to his face, Hawkfang's or Viperfang's. “You can gather some soft grass and feathers around camp. Then you both can make nest for the nursery.” Nursery? Viperfang twisted her ears curiously. Why the nursery? Crowfrost's kits were nearly ready to be apprenticed. They didn't exactly need special care. The warrior kept her mouth shut, though. The tom had given them a cushy job all to themselves and she wasn't about to question him. Besides, at least they could have time to themselves to talk. "Thanks, Hawkfang," the she-cat mewed. With that, she bounded toward the fresh-kill pile to de-feather a few birds. She let the end of her tail glide over Charredoak's muzzle, a silent signal for him to keep his smart comments to himself. He'd done enough, stepping all over the deputy's nerves like that. "You're not going to make many friends here, talking like that," she said once they were both our of earshot of the older tom, "I'll bet a moon's worth of mouse tails that he's gunna give you all the apprentice jobs until the kits get older." The tan she-cat pawed at a rabbit that had been draped over the whole pile and turned it over with a claw. Underneath, there were two or three starlings and a dove- perfect nest-worthy feathers, though they didn't need that much. She took a starling and layed down, ripping off the feathers and getting a few of them caught in her teeth. Word Count: 297 Audience: Hawkfang and Charredoak Comments: None