Resting [OPEN]

Smokefeather made her way out of the elder's den with a yawn, shaking out her pelt and limping her way towards a spot of shade beneath one of the trees. The setting sun cast long shadows over Skyclan's camp, and Smokefeather absently watched as one patrol returned with prey and a second patrol left for the borders. She missed patrolling, missed having things to do beyond just sit in camp all day. She could go see if help was needed in the medicine den, but there was only so much she could do there, and Beechface was only likely to stress and try to do things herself, anyways even though it was obvious that she needed rest more than anyone. Beechface was recovering and finally starting to move around a bit more, though one ill-considered trip to the moonstone had effectively forced the medicine cat back into her nest for a few days. Beechface needed to focus on actually recovering rather than pushing her body beyond her limits, and Smokefeather had told her as much. Beechface, as it happened, hadn't been too happy about the unsolicited advice. Still, someone had needed to tell her.

Smokefeather at least had been feeling better recently, even with the recent drama. The elder seemed more alert than she had in moons as her gaze drifted across camp. Standing, she made her way to the fresh-kill pile, picking out a quail for herself before returning to her spot beneath the tree.

Dawnpaw… well… bounced was the only word for how she came into camp, eyes bright with youthful joy. A starling hung from her jaws, feathers carefully cleaned of blood. Beechaunt had mentioned she liked starlings, and therefore Dawnpaw had produced a starling. It had been harder than she’d expected, tracking down one type of bird in the middle of green-leaf, but she’d done it! She looked around camp for Beechaunt, but didn’t see her… but she did see Smokema! And she hadn’t talked to Smokema very much lately, which wasn’t very nice of her, now was it? Beechaunt had mentioned Smokema liked starling and qu- oh, she already had a quail! Pleased with herself for remembering correctly, the golden apprentice padded over with a smile hidden behind the starling’s shining feathers. She laid it down with energetic, almost infectious joy, beaming. “Look! I caught a starling! Beechaunt said you liked them! The feathers are so pretty, they look like the sun waking up.” Smokema looked… better, somehow, than she’d been when Dawnpaw was a kit. Her fur looked less messy. “Guess what, Smokema!” Dawnpaw continued to chatter, her smile spreading across her face. “I’ve made some friends! There’s Olivepaw, and Dandelionpaw, oh, and Beetlepaw.” Dawnpaw’s ears threatened to turn red at the thought of the tom… he was the nicest cat she’d ever met… a dreamy (well, dreamier than usual) look crept into her eyes. Snapping back to reality, she sat down next to Smokema. “How’ve you been?”

Movement around the camp entrance caught Smokefeather's eye, and she smiled softly to herself as Dawnpaw entered the camp. It had been a shock to see her having returned with the clan after the gathering, but Smokefeather had found that she was relieved Dawnpaw had returned safely. The camp had seemed quieter without her granddaughter around.

When the apprentice padded over, Smokefeather didn't flinch, something that surprised her. Dawnpaw's fur and eyes were uncannily similar to Dawnhawk's, but that was where the similarity ended, as far as Smokefeather could tell; if anything, Dawnpaw reminded her more of Mountainheart and Primroselight.

"Hello, Dawnpaw," She was excited to show off her catch, and Smokefeather couldn't help the soft smile that crossed her face at the sight, a purr catching in her throat. "Beautiful catch, well done." She mewed. The starling's golden-tipped feathers were eye-catching, shining in the last of the sunlight.

"I'm glad you're making friends." The mention of Sapphire's kits was unsurprising. For their rogue-born status, they and their mother seemed fully committed to Skyclan. It was unexpected, but a welcome sight for a clan known to be so distrustful of outsiders.

Dawnpaw's question was innocuous, yet had still managed to catch Smokefeather somewhat off-guard. How was she doing? She wasn't quite sure, honestly. She'd been so sick with guilt after Dawnhawk's little raid on the camp, and she was worried for Beechface, for Foxfire and Wolfstar... Bloodstrike too, as he shouldered the burden of doing more duties than a deputy should while dealing with his own problems. Now that they'd actually talked with each other, it was as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Things weren't normal, and realistically, Smokefeather knew that there would be no going back to how things used to be, even as they might've wished for it, but considering the past two seasons, things had come close. Not-quite there, but... Better than she had been. Feelings of guilt and grief still lingered, of course, but Smokefeather could finally say she was at least putting one paw in front of the other again.

"I'm... Alright." She mewed, "Better than I have been, anyways." Smokefeather took a few bites of quail, eyeing the apprentice steadily. "You seem to have adjusted well after coming back." She mewed, "I'm glad."

Dawnpaw licked down a few stray bits of fur on her chest as she listened to Smokema. She did seem to be doing better, something Dawnpaw was overwhelmingly grateful for. She’d feel terrible if she was off having fun while a Clanmate wasn’t doing well. “Well, to be honest,” (not that she wasn’t honest, it was just a figure of speech) “I did stray over the border with ThunderClan on accident. Luckily I met a very nice ThunderClan cat who didn’t attack. She asked how training was going… Thrushnose, I think her name was. She seemed to understand- it didn’t make sense, not really. The trees on the other side of the Oak looked exactly the same.” Dawnpaw stopped grooming for a moment to gaze out at the camp, her confusion returning. Why weren’t they allowed to hunt over there? It looked exactly the same, but she’d come to accept a while ago that what made perfect sense to other cats didn’t make much sense to her. “I forgot to ask Beechaunt what your favorite color is! Oh, and do you know Beechaunt’s, too?” She’d remembered the feathers, to her pleasure, and so she thought maybe she could remember that too? Unfortunately, there wasn’t much point in finding out Prima’s favorite color, for obvious reasons. Still, maybe in StarClan…

Olivepaw padded into the camp, carrying two mice by their tails. She dropped them into the fresh-kill pile with a huff. The exhausted apprentice had been hunting almost all day, but it was worth it if her clan had more food. With a satisfied stretch Olivepaw looked around the camp with half-close eyes, what else could she get done? She saw Dawnpaw chatting with one of the elders, Smokefeather. The ragdoll she-cat decided she had earned a rest, and who better to spend it with than the beautifully upbeat Dawnpaw? She picked up a small mouse before heading over to them. "Hello there Dawnpaw, Smokefeather," she greeted with a nod to each. After laying down she began to dig into her meal, having not eaten since the evening before today. Olivepaw didn't say much, preferring to save her energy. She enjoyed silently listening anyway.

"Thrushnose... I believe she's their new deputy? Thunderclanners are usually level-headed, from what I've heard." Smokefeather nodded. Her ears flicked back slightly for a moment as Dawnpaw continued. What in the stars had she gotten up to? Not understanding borders... Well, she had been gone for a moon and had only just returned recently. Smokefeather would have to explain, then, before the sweet, airy apprentice wandered into something less favorable than a nice Thunderclanner.

"We all have our own territory to hunt in, and the farther you get into their territory, the undergrowth becomes much thicker. And we have our own territory to hunt in, besides. Their territory can support them, as ours supports us. If everyone started hunting on each other's territory, that wouldn't be the case for much longer." She continued, "When the Asylum was on our territory, prey was harder to find simply because of how many of their cats were hunting." It had been a harsh leafbare, too, even putting all that the Asylum had incurred aside. "Too many cats hunting in one area will drive off prey, and while Thrushnose might have been friendly, not every cat is. Our relations with some of the other clans... aren't the best. Be careful, Dawnpaw."

During the conversation, another apprentice had padded over, and Smokefeather offered her a nod of greeting. She was one of Sapphire's kits, if she recalled correctly. Smokefeather had found herself liking the former loner, she'd given her a new perspective on some things, though Smokefeather had taken some time to realize it. "Hello Olivepaw, how's training going?" She asked, tone no less warm than it had been when she'd greeted Dawnpaw earlier.

Dawnpaw nodded at Smokema’s words. Just because she didn’t understand didn’t mean she would disregard what made sense to everycat else. (Still, if everycat had the option of hunting anywhere, then surely all the Clans would have enough prey?) The apprentice suddenly caught sight of Olivepaw, and waved her tail enthusiastically in greeting. “Hello Olivepaw! It’s nice to see you, you look exhausted!” She purred, although her glance was worried as she took in how worn the other apprentice seemed. “You sit right here and I’ll fetch anything you want! You too, Smokema, of course,” she added swiftly.

Dawnpaw quickly and carefully took a few shimmering feathers off the starling: one for her, one for Smokema, one for Olivepaw, and one for… somecat else. She pushed a feather to each of the she-cats. “Here you go! You can put it in your nest! I didn’t even know that! They look like rivers of shimmering stones, like the Moonlit Creek…” she trailed off, gazing at the feather intently. “Like the dark right before the sun rises, when the sky is stained with rainbows, and the last few warriors of StarClan peek over the horizon.”

Olivepaw quickly finished off her mouse before answering Smokefeather's question, "Training has been going smoothly, Newtspring is.. Nice." Her second's hesitance was not that she didn't like her mentor, really. She just wasn't sure how she felt about the mottled tom quite yet. Olivepaw turned her attention to Dawnpaw once she commented on her appearance. "Oh, I've just been hunting that's all," she excused with a "don't worry" smile. The ragdoll apprentice flicked her ears when Dawnpaw offered to get something for her. She didn't think she needed much, she wasn't hungry nor thirsty. Yet she reckoned it would be rude to refuse the delightful she-cat. "All I need is a nap, honestly," she replied with a small laugh.

Olivepaw quietly purred her thanks as Dawnpaw slid her a starling feather. Her ears perked as the golden apprentice continued to talk about the feather's appearance. The way she described things never ceased to take her breath away. The fluffy she-cat examined the feather closer, taking in its shimmering beauty. "Like rivers fused with stone, like azure flowers blooming in early leaf-bare," she added in almost a whisper, her eyes glittering. "I'll make sure it's in my nest," she promised, her voice back to it's normal volume.

"I used to think the same, and now I complain about having nothing better to do." Smokefeather sighed, watching Olivepaw, "Newtspring seems a decent warrior, I'm sure you'll learn much from him." She wasn't really sure how she felt about Bloodstrike's kits, to be honest, but from her conversation with Newtspring when he'd still been a 'paw, he didn't the unwarranted suspicion. He'd have enough cats to make things difficult for him, and so would Olivepaw, Smokefeather was sure, but neither of them would find that from her. She'd spent enough time being needlessly hostile to cats who hadn't deserved it.

Smokefeather's whiskers twitched in bemusement at Dawnpaw's description of the starling feathers, and Olivepaw's additions. The apprentices were a poetic sort, it seemed, though Smokefeather had never really had a way with words like they and even Ashstorm did. And... Dawnhawk. He'd always had a way with words, too, even as an apprentice. She could only guess that Dawnpaw and Ashstorm had picked that up from him. A shiver managed to work its' way down her spine and the elder gave herself a shake, gaze dropping to her quail. She bent to take a bite, trying to ignore the sudden sense of dread that twisted in her gut. [i]He's not here, get over yourself. Dawnpaw is innocent.[/]

"Thank you, Dawnpaw, I'll put that in my nest." She mewed softly, pulling the feather closer to her with a paw. "They're beautiful."

The question of favorite colors gave her pause. Beechface's, Smokefeather was reasonably certain, would be a blood red. Stars knew the medicine cat enjoyed fighting far more than she ought to, even with the family she had. "Green for me, I'm not sure about Beechface." Green was safe... Better than gold, or blue. Green like the grass that covered the camp's ground, green like the eyes of a certain deputy... Not that anyone needed to know that.

Dawnpaw rolled onto her back, gazing up at the sky. Olivepaw was really good at the flowing words. “What kind of green, Smokema? I know you like a marshy, olive green, Olivepaw! There’s bright, meadowy, young green, old, wise, forest green, energetic, living green, marshy, thick green, yellowy, eblyarg green, and lots more!” She smiled at Smokema. Things looked weird on her back, like if she reached her paws up, she could stand on the sky. She did so, and burst out giggling at the sight. “I’m standing on the sky! Look!” From her viewpoint, her paws were indeed on the sky. Other cats, however, only saw a golden apprentice with her paws stretched up above her. Dawnpaw was awed- she could fly then, and see all the birdies, and maybe she could ask the sun how it knew to come up in the morning.

Pigeonpaw had been resting quietly by the fresh-kill pile, belly full of sparrow, and feathers scattered around his paws, when Smokefeather meandered over. The apprentice's eyes watched the elder carefully, curiously, as she picked out her meal, and then followed her as she returned. In no time, Dawnpaw had bounced over to her, excited after a hunt, and Pigeonpaw smiled, his ears flicking forward as the name of his siblings captured his attention. Almost on cue, Olivepaw appeared, and Pigeonpaw lifted his head, tilting it one way then the other as he deliberated whether or not he wanted to join in.

Eventually, curiosity won over, and he got to his paws, slinking over to the tiny gathering and briefly pressing against Olivepaw's shoulder before letting his haunches drop and peering down at Dawnpaw. "What'cha doin'?" he queried to the older apprentice.

Olivepaw looked down at Dawnpaw, who was on her back. She kept down a giggle while the golden apprentice stuck her legs up in the air, pretending she was standing on the sky. There wasn't anything necessarily funny about it, just cute. Her playfulness would make a great warrior for Skyclan, Olivepaw just had to hope she didn't grow out of it. She tilted her ragdoll head up towards dark sky, wondering how she would grow into the clan. She wanted to be a strong cat, able to protect her siblings and clan. But mostly her siblings. She knew if she were to become strong she needed to train. She was determined. Olivepaw felt someone press against her shoulder, hearing her brother's curious voice. As if on cue, she joked to herself. She turned her head to look at the black tabby. "Hello Pigeonpaw," she mewed warmly, briefly touching her tail to his as he questioned Dawnpaw. She felt herself wanting to yawn, pondering when she would retreat to the apprentice den to sleep.