Lilystream | Female | Camp | Warrior | 31 Moons | Mentions: Frostheart and Buzzardpaw [Minor] | Side Note: Because she wasn't raised within the Clan but by rogues who had their own culture and such, you might note she refers to things differently,
but despite this she still uses Clan terminology and yields to Clan beliefs as well as those she's grown up with.


((Had to work with what I remember typing earlier so it's not the best ;-; It certainly doesn't have the detail as my first post had but it will do. It's also unedited so sorry for any grammar/spelling errors))

All throughout the night, her sleep had been disturbed over and over again. It was the little things. The soft chirps of the crickets in the tall grass, the brittle leaves on the ground, the low baritone hoot of the nocturnal owl and the stirring of her clan-mates around her, their soft snores and the sounds of their even breathing... Through the night, it was as if the volume of everything had been turned up, as if the great lion spirits of StarClan gaped their magnificent jaws in unison and roared in her ears. Slowly, almost painfully, eyes would open to reveal soft brown irises that appeared especially liquidized that morning. Lilystream wasn't exactly sure what had made her so skittish. She slept in the warriors den, surrounded by others who took an oath to defend their Clan, their territory with every breath,. Why, then, did she feel so... Anxious? Unsafe?
She had been in SolClan long enough to be able to put names to every face, to be able to do all duties a warrior should be eligable to do as if she was clanborn and raised. How could she not trust these felines? Who took her in? Shared prey and a den with her? Perhaps, the danger was not within SolClan walls, but mayhap it was miles away... On murky swamp territory that smelled of death and decay, where even the stripe-backs dare not step. A muscle twitched underneath the soft, creamy white pelt covering her physique. A well-rounded ear flicked in dismissal from where she silently reclined, listening to the soft breathing of the warriors who had not yet roused. What did she have to fear from beady-eyed canines? The dogs who coward in their muskegs, reeking of bog and mold and carrion? They were easy enough to ward off. But... yes. There was something... unsettling about a territory that was shunned by even the sun's light. She could pick up the sounds of life outside the warrior's den, not many sounds, but sounds. Enough to let her know she wasn't the only one awake. A low, lazy grunt expelled from her throat and the lioness squeezed her eyes closed for a brief moment, imagining an undisturbed sleep, the moon's welcoming presence hanging overhead. But alas, it was not to be. Reluctantly, Lilystream rolled herself onto the soft, downy fur of her stomach and brushed away bedding from her coat. Outside the cave, the Great Lion was slow to crest over the landscape. But he crested. His blinding head, golder than the ores under the earth's soft soil was so dazzling one count not make out the features of his noble face and if one even attempted, they would find themselves with solar retinopathy. His mane, striking and wild, was even brighter, touching this way and that in a wild nature, a pretty yellow streaked in oranges and deep reds that illuminated his lands. Lilystream gazed around the den, taking in who was still asleep and which nests were empty. Slowly and deliberately, the lass lifted her body weight with lean pillars, pivoting her lithe, muscular frame to direct her route towards the cave's opening. A deep inhale of morning air would further introduce the aroma of a fresh-kill and her elegantly shaped skull would rotate to locate the source of such a smell. It came in the form of a zebra, succulent in appearance and settled at the very top of the fresh-kill pile; her rough, pink tongue lapped at her dark lips with obvious interest as she eyed the prize, one destined to be marked by her fangs, surely? However instead of sneaking a bite or five, the damsel found her velvet brown eyes searching. Her target was well-spotted, much to easy to locate as his pelage was the palest of all. Frostheart's coat was pure alabaster, from the tips of his mane hairs to the fur on his toes, the coat thin and pronounced the sinewy body underneath. There were many imperfections on his frame, but there was no coat so fine. Her own was not so pale but it was pale enough, while beautiful, white fur was the bane of any hunter's existence. To be so easily spotted, even in shadow? Even covered by this undergrowth? She shuddered at the thought! It was a wonder how her sibling managed. From her peripheral vision, Lilystream spotted a more youthful body weaving through the bodies of those awake. Buzzardpaw settled himself in front of his mentor, quiet and respectful while the big brute broke his fast on hare. She imagined she had him to thank for the prey contribution.
Deciding to leave mentor and apprentice to whatever it was mentors and apprentices do, the female found herself blinking away the residual sleep in her system and moving towards the fresh-kill pile to have something to occupy her time. While the zebra was looking mighty tempting, she was a preserver and thought the oldest prey should be consumed before getting on to the fresher pieces. So instead, she dug around until she found something that was adequate for the morn. Lilystream dragged the remains of the giraffe carcass off towards a cluster of shrubbery near the elder's den and took her time stripping the remains of consumables from the ivory bones of what had once been a great beast.

Minus one giraffe

(Oops! sorry for the extremely late reply XD Was busy during the weekend so just gonna put this on up and go back to doing things.)


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"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet, only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

Volesnout • Female • 150 Moons • Elder • Elders Den ---> Camp • Mentions: Oneclaw, (Indirectly) GIngermoon

The elder shook her head roughly too and fro. Since this certain morning was warm, like most of the morning they had here in Solclan, it wasn't surprising that there were flies nipping and buzzing around Volesnout's poor sensitive ears. Looking around, the lioness's amber eye's would land on none other than her daughter, Gingermoon. The elder blinked slowly, it had been a while since she had talked with her daughter, but, it seemed that Gingermoon was busy with whatever she was doing in the patch of grass, and if that wasn't the case, then the elder was probably making up idea's on how to NOT go chat up a storm with her one and only beloved child. "Oneclaw." Volesnout looked at the younger lioness, a permanent frown scarring her old muzzle "Now, you don't have to answer my question but....How is Gingermoon? She seems to be staying away from the other lions, and that concerns me....It seems as if she is more quiet than she used to be.." A seriously concerned glow could be seen in the lioness's amber eye's, though, they soon drifted off back towards her daughter. The lioness's silence meaning she would listen to any word the other lion said.

Oneclaw ¦ Female ¦ 60 Moons ¦ Warrior ¦ Warrior Den > Camp ¦ Mentions: Volesnout, indirectly Gingermoon

Oneclaw saw the flies pestering Volesnout and, almost as if following a queue, starting biting at her haunches. Her legs twitched involuntarily at the little itchy stings, but it wasn't until she flicked her tail that the insects dispersed. Following the gaze of the elder, she answered her question to the best of her abilities. "She hasn't seemed too out of sorts, though I don't usually speak with her. If you want, I can wave her over." She knit her brows together. It had dawned on her that she didn't talk to the other warriors, surprising given the housing arrangements. She made a mental note to change that, maybe strike up a conversation? Who knows.

(lol no problem. we all have those days)

•
"Take me in at your flood, give me speed
Give me lights, set me humming!
Shoot me up with your blood, wind me up
With your nights, watch me coming!
All I want is a whole lot of excess
Tell the singer this is where I'm playing!"

Gingermoon • Female • 25 moons • Warrior • Camp • Mentions: Rowanheart; Volesnout; Oneclaw

Her eyelids drifted closed, coaxed to that condition by the warm rays of the sun. She did not move, save for the occasional twitch of her tail, until a deep voice summoned her back to consciousness. inhaling the sweet air lightly, the lioness's mint green eyes blinking open to rest kindly on Rowanheart's handsome face. "Good morning, Rowanheart," she chirped, smiling warmly, "I slept pretty well. How about you?" As she awaited the male's reply, her gaze drifted to her mother and Oneclaw conversing in the early morning light. The pale lioness would wait for Rowanheart's reply before standing. "Excuse me, but my mother's over there," she explained, "I must go greet her. It's been nice talking to you!" With that, she stood, trotting her way over to her mother's side. "Mom!," Gingermoon called, grinning as she made her way over. She lowered her skull, running her white fur against her mother's tawny cheek.

Bearthorn
Female| 26 moons | Warrior | African Lion | Location: Camp ---> Warrior Den | Mentions: Open

Bearthorn stretched out lazily letting out a greeting towards those who passed her as she laid near the entrance of that camp her eyes flicked around watching all the other lions with a sense of pride and love swell in her chest, she shook her head and lifted herself from her laying position walking over towards the recently killed deer but shook her head deciding she wasn't hungry looking around the camp before heading towards the warrior den yawning

| Dawnflower |
Female • 60 Moons • Masai Lion • Warrior
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Nightpaw

Dawnflower lifted her head as Nightpaw approached, her golden eyes warm as she gazed down at the apprentice. “Good morning Nightpaw.” she greeted cheerily. “What can I do for you?” If his previously irritable expression was any clue, the lionesses assumed the future medicine cat caught on to the fact she had followed him and intended to confront her. Dawnflower rose into a sitting position, giving Nightpaw her full attention as she awaited his answer.



| Fawnstep |
Male • 72 Moons • Transvaal Lion • Warrior
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Fennelpaw, Lizardtail

Fawnstep’s whiskers twitched with amusement as he watched his son glance back toward the apprentice’s den with eyes full of yearning. “As the saying goes, the early bird gets the worm Fennelpaw. It’s important you rise bright and early every day to get the most out of your training.” When Fennelpaw noted his cheerfulness he thought over how best to explain the source of his current mood. “I slept quite well and dreamt of your mother.”

As he spoke he spotted Fennelpaw’s mentor Lizardtail heading in their direction and nodded to the other male in welcome. “Good morning Lizardtail!” He fell silent as he allowed mentor and apprentice to greet one another. The younger lion looked lost in thought for a moment before returning to attention, and Fawnstep was almost taken aback by the unexpected compliments. Heart brimming with pride, he gazed at Fennelpaw fondly before turning back to Lizardtail. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear he’s shaping up into a fine young warrior, no doubt thanks to your guidance and impeccable training.”

Oneclaw ¦ Female ¦ 60 Moons ¦ Warrior ¦ Warrior Den > Camp ¦ Mentions: Volesnout, Gingermoon

The scarred lioness watched as Gingermoon approached. It was a 'speak if the devil' situation, but pleasant nonetheless. Besides, it meant she didn't have to leave her comfortable patch in the sun. She said a greeting to her mother and Oneclaw bowed her head after a brisk hello. She wouldn't say anything until Volesnout did. It was rude, after all, to butt into conversations that weren't yours.

| Buzzardpaw |
Male • 10 Moons • Asiatic Lion • Warrior Apprentice
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Indirectly} Grasspaw, Fennelpaw, Lizardtail, Lilystream, Frostheart

Buzzardpaw’s calm composure turned to restlessness before long, paws twitching as if itching for some use. He dared not disturb his massive mentor however, eyes darting to him every now and then to see what progress had been made on his meal. He caught sight of Lilystream looking their way and hoped she would come join them. It would be easier to start a conversation with the friendly lioness involved, but much to his disappointment she turned away and busied herself with choosing a piece of prey for herself. His eyes next landed on Lizardtail and Fennelpaw, clearly making plans for the day. He saw Fennelpaw’s gaze drift to Grasspaw next and suppressed a sigh. Lizardtail had always seemed like a fun mentor. They probably had something truly fantastic planned. ’They wouldn’t want you along anyway. You’ll just have to wait for Frostheart to finish,” he thought to himself glumly.



| Dawnflower |
Female • 60 Moons • Masai Lion • Warrior
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Nightpaw / {Indirectly} Palefur

Surprise flickered over her face as Nightpaw requested battle training rather than accusing her of following him. Dawnflower’s gaze drifted toward the medicine den, but there was still no sign of Palefur. “Very well. I don’t suppose it would hurt to learn a few moves while you wait for your mentor to return,” she agreed, rising to her paws. “We’ll practice just outside camp so we don’t disturb anyone.”



| Fawnstep |
Male • 72 Moons • Transvaal Lion • Warrior
Location: Camp • Mentions: {Directly} Fennelpaw, Lizardtail / {Indirectly} Eveiningstar, Frostheart

Fawnstep stepped away, allowing mentor and apprentice to discuss their day in privacy. He whisked his tail in a silent farewell , glancing over his shoulder at Fennelpaw one last time before he was out of earshot. Eyes scanning the camp, he wondered when Eveningstar or Frostheart would begin issuing patrols and whether or not he would be selected for one. Settling down near the center of camp, he waited patiently for an announcement of any sort to be made.