Sharing Tongues - July (OPEN)

A gentle breeze rustled the boughs of green leafed trees. Soil and rock warmed by the heat of greenleaf and the summer sun. Cool green grasses a lush relief on the paws as Marshstorm settled down after a hard patrol. He relaxed in the sun’s rays as the sounds of cats stirring around the camp comforted him.

His amber gaze roamed around with curiosity to observe his clanmates. A few were sharing prey, a couple had collapsed when he did from the same patrol. He chuckled softly to himself, grief heavy in his chest still from his actions not so long ago. When the calico daughter of Blizzardshine was exiled. He sighed softly. It was necessary. She had long since proven little regard for borders.

He dreaded what would happen when Hailpaw found out. A grey tabby pelt distracted him from his thoughts. A gentle smile on his muzzle as his mate emerged from the nursery with little Houndkit in tow. He was at least alive. His paws still aching, Marshstorm stood up, then padded over to a small mossy nook that kits often played with.

Well, spirit was important too. He smirked to himself, wadding up a little ball of it and batting it towards the nearest cat with a clearly feigned innocence. Even a full grown warrior could still play as well as relax.

Mosspaw had spent the morning taking out the old moss from her and Pricklebush's nests, and carefully arranging new ones in anticipation of Pricklebush's return, whenever that would be. As much as she hated the work that went into eating a bird, much preferring squirrels or voles, she had suffered through one to be able to weave the feathers into her mentor's nest as a quiet gesture. At this point, she was resting in the main part of the clearing of camp, slightly shaded by the ferns that led to the medicine cat den as dappled sunlight warmed her fur. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her paws, contemplating a quick nap. Sleep had evaded her ever since the discovery of Ridgelight's litter, and what sleep she did manage to find was disturbed by terrifying visions of the destroyed bush, or the blood-stained muzzle of the fox. Maybe in the safety of camp, surrounded by cats she was sure she could trust, maybe she could get some overdue rest.... Before she continued her duties, that was.

It was at that time that she felt something brush against her nose, and her green eyes opened to see a... mossball? Her eyes lifted, surveying around. Dustcloud had left the nursery with Houndkit, but they were too far away, and it seemed like they were distracted by something else.... Her eyes next turned to the closest cat, Marshstorm. He looked a little too innocent, and something about the way he didn't even look her way despite the mossball made it seem as though he knew something. Eyes narrowing playfully, she reached out a paw and scooped up the mossball quietly before aiming it at the deputy's back. The small ball hit it's mark, landing between Marshstorm's soldiers as Mosspaw closed her eyes once more, her tail tip quivering with the effort of preventing it from flicking in anticipation.

The mossball hitting his shoulder made him smile a bit wider. Head turning with a playful smirk as Mosspaw went still, too still to be true. He grabbed the mossball with a claw, then padded forward to place it directly on top of her head. A cheerful light that hadn’t been in his amber eyes for awhile shining through.

"Good afternoon, Mosspaw." He greeted, his tone teasing as he backed up a couple pawsteps. "I think we’ve all been working a little too hard. Why don’t we play a bit?" He offered, his tone dropping it’s tease into more of his usual calm tone. His heavy heart felt a little bit lighter with the joyful antics. The ease of his interactions with a cat that wasn’t based solely on duty.

Since Houndkit's arrival (for that was how Galepaw had chosen to think of it; he’d been in the nursery at the time, though only for a few sunups, and Ridgelight’s exile had been secondary to his new denmate), the air in camp had been heavy and somber. Galepaw’s plans to explore the territory were more urgent than ever. Only the rules Emberheart had set for him kept him here.

He’d been stalking back and forth throughout the camp, full of restless energy, when a familiar sight caught his eye. Though he was an apprentice now, he hadn’t forgotten any of his nursery games. Here, Galepaw saw an opportunity. What if he beat ThunderClan’s deputy and one of their medicine cats? (Of course, this particular game didn’t seem like the kind that had a winner…as if that mattered to Galepaw.) With all the reckless confidence a still-growing apprentice could muster, the gray tabby strode toward them. "Isn't mossball for kits?" The glint in his eyes and how he was staring at the clump of moss resting on Mosspaw's head told a different story; in truth, he was searching for a way to steal the ball without smacking Mosspaw.

"Yeah its for kits, Marshstorm! You should know that!" Perhaps the only thing that rivaled Houndkit's ears was the size of his mouth. Although he had trotted out at Dustcloud's heels, he quickly abandoned her for a place next to Galepaw. The kit had learned that the deputy and older warrior were not his parents and he seldom let them forget it. Originally, he had intended to settle down next to the apprentice but as he watched the medicine flick the moss ball back at Marshstorm, remnants of his own inherent kitlike nature kicked in and as it bounded off the dark-coated tabby, he was there to catch the rebound. Houndkit's large ears stood as tall as his tabby tail as he collected his prize, taking it gingerly in his mouth and returned next to Galepaw. He dropped it on the ground and remembering the older tom's words, set to work tearing it into tiny shreds with his claws. This was far more amusing that sitting in the nursery with some daft old she-cat. Already, he longed to be entertained with so much more than what camp had to offer, a feeling that unbeknownst to him, Galepaw shared. As he finished his efforts, the sandy tabby tom glanced up to the other cat with eyes begging for approval as he boasted, "See even kits know better than to play with mossballs. I could probably make a better deputy than you."

Marshstorm chuckled at Galepaw’s comment. Looking down at Mosspaw and the subsequent moss ball, that was on her head. He blinked. It had just been- oh. He looked over at Houndkit. Taking the rebuke and declaration with a simple lifted brow. He padded to the pile of moss only a tail length away and constructed a new ball.

"Moss ball may have been discovered by kits, but there is no harm in a little fun." He settled down in front of him for a moment, crouching to Houndkit’s height.. "Besides, it is an excellent practice tool for hunting. Moss balls are light enough to be driven by a hard enough breeze. That makes it unpredictable, exactly as prey is. Even adults need to practice." He stood then, new moss ball in paw and threw it at Galepaw cheerfully.

"Come now, Galepaw, Houndkit. Relax and have some fun." He looked beyond Houndkit towards Beartooth. Flicking his tail invitingly to the other tom to come join them. To join in the company of his own kit.

His deception was flawless—now, no one would expect him to pounce! Before Galepaw could put his amazing plan in action, a large-eared furball snagged the moss. Apparently, Houndkit had left the nursery in time to spot the game. That worked to Galepaw’s advantage; stealing it from a kit would almost certainly be easier than taking it from Mosspaw… Except Houndkit was returning to him, carrying the ball proudly. Maybe he wouldn’t have to steal it after all.

Galepaw opened his mouth, only to snap it shut, confusion overtaking his expression, when Houndkit began to shred the moss to tiny bits. That…wasn’t in the rules. How could you win a game of mossball if you took the ball apart the first time you got your claws on it? He pawed one of the shreds toward him experimentally. Nope, too small to throw around.

As Marshstorm spoke to Houndkit (and Galepaw half-listened up until "excellent practice tool for hunting," at which point he gave up any pretense of not paying attention), a new clump of moss formed in his paws. Then it came flying toward Galepaw. He smacked it down, pinning it lightly under a paw lest Houndkit try to steal it again. ”When you say it that way—” With that, the gray apprentice batted it toward Mosspaw at full speed.

ooc: sick post

Mistpaw watched from afar and gathered his own mossball, tossing it between his paws, tail, and nose. He quietly trod towards the group and whacked the mossball at no one in particular. Without showing excitement nor disapproval, he walked closer. "It is no help to play the same game. To really train, you must change the rules and add challenge." He eyed the shredded mossball. "It seems Houndkit understands. I agree, father, that sometimes games are helpful. But not if you do the same thing. Unpredictability is only life, after all."

A grin split Mosspaw's face, and her eyes opened to meet Marshstorm's, a small sparkle having emerged in their depths. Chuckling as she watched Houndkit shred the moss, she realized almost too late that a new ball of moss was coming straight for her head at a high speed. Ducking down just in time for it to whiz by her head, she laughed aloud. Her ear twitched as she listened to Mistpaw when he came up to the group, and spoke words that were very true. What could they do differently? Pausing for a moment as she picked up the moss ball, she thought of what had just happened. Eyes lighting up, she picked up the moss and trotted back to the group. "How about instead of mossball, where you try to catch it, what if you try to dodge it instead? The faster and smaller the target, the harder to hit them! We can do teams!" The calico she-cat purred.

Nettlepaw had not been planning on joining in on the game of mossball; games, for the most part, seemed a little silly to her, unless you were a kit. Everyone else had better things to do. But then she heard her brother utter the words add challenge and Mosspaw mention teams, words which, in her mind, shifted things from being a game to being a competition. Now that-- that she would join. Her competitive fire lit, she trotted over to the growing group of cats.

"If you're playing with teams, I'll join in," she said briefly, eyeing the mossball and already planning her upcoming victory.

Dustcloud couldn't help but panic a bit when Houndkit darted away from her paws, but when she realized where he was headed a sense of relief flooded through her. A simple game of mossball, that was all. Before she could join the fray, however, a big ball of moss whacked her right on the nose. A small sneeze escaped her as she looked down at the small ball. Apparently, standing behind Mosspaw was not a very good idea. If she hadn't ducked in time, it would have hit her, but due to the medicine cat's fast reflexes, the ball flew right at her. She giggled a little, picking up the ball with a claw and launching it towards Marshstorm playfully, another fit of giggles overcoming her as it landed right in between his eyes. Padding up ext to Mosspaw, she smiled gently. "I th-think that's a g-great idea, M-Mosspaw." Her tail flickered slightly as she observed the surrounding cats, her eyes landing back on the medicine cat apprentice beside her. "I'm on M-Mosspaw's team... She s-seems to be g-good at th-this already!" Grinning playfully, Dustcloud laid her tail on the younger cat's shoulder.

Mosspaw ducked under his toss, leaving it to smack an approaching Dustcloud square in the nose. Galepaw was quiet, eyes a little wide—he hadn't meant to hit someone who wasn't part of the game—until Dustcloud sneezed; then he burst out laughing. At least she wasn't upset. Nothing could put a sudden stop to a game quite like a scolding. He knew from experience. If anything, the game was picking up; two of Galepaw's younger denmates had padded over, and it was only a matter of time before they got swept up in this, too. ”Houndkit.” He looked Houndkit up and down, tail twitching with anticipation. Sure, Houndkit had kind of shredded the last mossball he’d caught—but this new challenge didn't involve catching them at all. Therefore, siding with a smaller cat seemed like a good plan. A kit had to be the best at a game for kits, right? ”We should team up.”

Graypaw padded up to the cats. She would normally just watch,but she didn’t want to be left out. The Siamese kept her head low,and her voice was soft,but audible. “Mind if I play?” The she cat asked. “I don’t care what team I am on. But if there is already an even number,I don’t have to play. I don’t want to ruin the balance or anything.” Her tail lashed. Maybe this was a bad idea....

Mistpaw turned to Graypaw. "You make nine. But it's alright. Imbalance is a part of life. There's always someone with an advantage. You can be on my team, wherever that happens to be." He said,  beckoning the she-cat into the circle. With so many cats, this was going to be chaos. And Mistpaw did not like it.

As the moss ball hit Dustcloud in the muzzle, Marshstorm watched as his mate sneezed. Worry faded into a tender smile as he watched her join easily to Mosspaw’s side. His muzzle turned to a teasing smirk as he grabbed another pile of moss to form a new ball as Mistpaw started talking about imbalance.

"A good point Mistpaw, so we should add another variable." He smirked as he launched the ball at Graypaw with a playful chuckle. Picking up another pile of moss to form and launch at Houndkit. "Come Houndkit. Hit me if you can." He challenged in a jovial tone. Smile evident in his eyes as he tensed ready to dodge.