This Place (closed)

Swansong padded through camp purposefully, her eyes flicking in the stony cracks around dens, hunting for... Aha! A smile flickered across her maw as a flash of green caught her eye around a charred bit of wood, still lying where it had fallen, though it was more of a sullen, smoky colour, now. Gently, she reached a paw down, brushing away bit of stone and blackened dirt, the bit of green popping up and uncurling a little more, shining bright in a ray of
sharp, Leaf-bare sunlight. There we are - a bit more life. There used to be many of these plants around, sprouting from little cracks and clefts, some with brilliant flowers that bloomed in New-leaf. Maybe this would be one of those, once Leaf-bare had ended.

Her eyes stayed on it for a moment, watching it as it wavered in a light, chilly breeze, before a sound caught her ears, and she cast a look behind.

Done training for the day, Tigerpaw planned on spending the rest of the day in camp. His muscles were sore, his paws ached, and he was very nearly ready for a nap, but the young tom was happy. He enjoyed training with Bloodstrike, every moment he got to learn something new was a blessing to him, but now, alone in camp, Tigerpaw found himself... kind of lonely. He missed his mother. He missed Maple. Ginger, Daffodil, and Honey were off doing their own thing, and he hadn't really made friends with any of the other apprentices. He was too serious. Too quiet. No fun.

With a sigh, he found himself exploring camp. The charred remains of what he'd been told had once been beautiful and grand were a sore sight, but even he noticed the small changes here and there, as nature started to reclaim what the fire had stolen. Another cat, it seemed, had noticed the same, and Tigerpaw watched as Swansong unearthed a sprout. He smiled, padding over to meet her. "There are a bunch of those, by the elder's den," he told her quietly.

A ginger-and-white pelt caught her eye, and she smiled back at Tigerpaw as he padded over. The young tom seemed to be doing well - for all his vices, Bloodstrike was a good mentor. If only she could say the same for his father. She nodded, tilting a curious glance in the direction of the elder's den and catching a hint of green, a soft edge of wistfulness entering her smile. "I remember they used to bloom there in New-leaf, before the fire. One of the elders tended to them when I was an apprentice."

A slightly chilly breeze wisped through the camp, and she looked down at the little shoot again as it nodded with the stirring air before raising her eyes back to the apprentice's, adding, "He always did say they were resilient."

Tigerpaw tilted his head as Swansong spoke, trying to picture the way the camp should look in Newleaf. His short tail twitched once and then stilled, and he looked up at the older she-cat with an expression somewhere between pensive and mournful.

"Do you think the camp will ever look the way it did before?" he asked her. "I've heard that it was grander, and beautiful." A wistful glance took in the sorry state of the barrier, still lacking despite all the work that had gone into it since their return. "And safer."

A slight sigh slipped from her maw, wisping away with the breeze, and she shook her head slightly, gazing around the camp, at cats huddled in places where formerly there had been sprigs of grass, and beautiful scatters of green, the pines towering overhead with their branches roaring distantly in the wind along to the echoing calls of birds, the sharp, fresh smell of their leaves mixing with the strong stone and various different others. All lively and growing, yet quiet and strong - gentle. Home.

A slight smile pulled at the edges of her maw, a hint of determination despite it all. "Not the same, no. But maybe... it can look better, eventually." Her voice grew softer, quiet. "It will grow, and fade, and grow again. Things just... do. Sometimes they create new beauty when they do."

She shook herself slightly, following his glance to the barrier. "But for now... well, it's still home. And it will be as safe as we can make it together. Especially with all our apprentices and warriors to watch over it," She added with a sideways smile at him. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she glanced back down at the shoot before tilting her head slightly at him. "Do you want to help me find shoots? Sometimes they find it hard to grow out of all this debris and die away."

Find shoots? Tigerpaw tilted his head, his gaze dropping down to survey the ground at their paws. Was that what these were called? He lowered his nose to sniff at the infant plant, then looked back up at Swansong with sparkling eyes. "Okay," he agreed.

Moving a step or so away, Tigerpaw dropped down to his belly, slowly moving his forepaws along the ash-strewn ground. There was a bump, ever so slight, beneath his paws, and the apprentice gently scooped away some of the ash and dirt, grinning slightly as a bright green plantling sprung up without the weight to hold it down. "Like that?" he inspected the plant, still slightly bent from its less than welcoming entrance into the world, and found it to be no worse for wear. It would survive, just like SkyClan would survive.

She watched him crouch down, moving his forepaws slowly, feeling for something, and then scooped away at the ground. Her ears tilted up slightly more as a green shoot popped out, a purr erupting from her maw at his question. "Yes, that works!" She tilted her head slightly, regarding the ground, and gently playing a paw over it. "I never really thought of doing it like that, but it's quite a good idea...."

A please smile spread over her maw as she felt something, and a green, springy shoot popped out of the ground as she gently brushed away at the bits of debris. Yes, our home will recover. Faster than it would have otherwise, with us helping it along!