storm waters (open event)

Frostpaw had woken up that morning to an annoying sound. Warriors and apprentices alike were grumbling about something outside. After the storm last night he'd had trouble sleeping and had planned to sleep for as long as Oakclaw had allowed him. However shooting up, he grumbled and crawled across the ground out of the den. Stretching his limbs - his claws scratched until he heard Salmonstrike. Finally wanting and curious to know what was happening. The apprentice moved over to what seemed to be the raising water into the camp. The warriors comment made Frostpaw's stoic face remain. "It could sweep away the camp if we aren't careful." he snorted. Maybe not now, but what if it rained more? Sure he liked water just as much as the next Riverclan cat, but if there was too much of it they wouldn't be able to save the kits or otherwise.

"Maybe we should reinforce the dens?" he would simply think out loud. After all who would bother to take his advice. Hopefully his brother didn't come crawling out to laugh. What was better, maybe Frostpaw would get to see the scarred cat fall into the water because it was higher than usual. The thought made him chuckle a bit, though he was filled with a sense of worry over Maplepaw. Would she be alright?

Sure, Quickpaw liked water (he and every other Riverclan cat) but only on his own terms, not when it simply invited itself into camp whenever it pleased. Roused by voices and the movement of cats around him, the apprentice slipped from the entrance to the den as a yawn split his jaws apart, moving to join the gathering and picking up snippets of the conversation - his brain still foggy with sleep. "Oh great," He announced himself as he drew up to his mentor's side, his tail a-sway in the air behind him and a frown threatening the edges of his muzzle. Yarrownose had said something about fresh bedding, but if they had another storm like last night a damp place to sleep would be the least of their problems. "I can help gather some moss," The offer was followed by a questioning glance to the two warriors present; he thought it likely that he and Frostpaw would be better candidates for moss-gathering over camp-reinforcement. 

... That also seemed like the easier job to volunteer for, and if he was going to have work sprung on him at sunup he at least wanted a little say in it. His fellow apprentices could thank him later.

The rising water had taken the Clan by surprise – that much was obvious from the sounds of the conversation going on as Russetfrost pushed his way from the warrior’s den. Greenleaf storms were not uncommon, they never had been, but the state of the river was still cause for concerns – especially with the way it had been diverted by debris across the low lying outskirts of the camp. He paused, bowing down into a deep stretch, claws protruding from splayed toes as he pulled himself back to all fours. “Moss won’t mean anything if there’s holes in the den roofs – we should check those first.” He commented, eyeing Yarrownose out of the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t fond of how close the other warrior had come to giving his colleagues an order, especially considering Russetfrost didn’t consider it the smartest course of action.

His attention swivelled to Salmonstripe, laughter bubbling up and free before he could bite it back. “Well.” He drawled, eyes glinting with obvious mischief, “If we start running short on dry moss cats could always share.” He punctuated the statement with a wink at the other two warriors that he truly hoped went right above Frostpaw and Quickpaw’s young heads. He trotted over to the group, jostling Salmonstripe playfully with his shoulder as he passed the petulant older warrior who seemed to be pointedly jumping in puddles to irritate his Clanmates. He settled down nearby the trio of cats still hovering in the middle of camp.

“He has a point.” He commented, flicking an ear in Salmonstripe’s direction. “The moss by the river probably won’t be great, we’ll have to travel further out which...” he gave Yarrownose a languid grin, “might be safer not to send apprentices out alone until we know the shape of things after the storms.” He set about grooming then, lapping at his paw and swiping it back across his ear. Any moss they plucked from beside the river would need to be washed in the river and then dried in some cat’s den – it’d be a better idea to gather the moss dry elsewhere.

Then Salmonstripe decided to get metaphysical with them at the crack of dawn. Russetfrost turned, mouth slightly open mid swipe of his tongue across one paw. “Are you suggesting we try to revive some fish in the middle of camp? Surely you’re not that troutbrained.” He turned a sceptical glance on the warrior’s brother. “Is he that troutbrained? Tell me he’s not suggesting we feed the Clan crowfood.”

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[ 421 • he's a terrible flirt someone slap him ]

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