The Heart of WindClan

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Ravenstar sat outside his den, beside the Tallrock. The wind was particularly strong today, driving most of the prey below ground. He was grateful for the protection that the large boulder offered as he surveyed his camp. Looking around, Ravenstar saw that several cats were resting in camp, sheltering from the ceaseless winds that whistled over the moor and tugged at their pelts. The small black tom thought that they would need to do less sheltering and more hunting if they all wanted to eat today.

The one part of camp that wasn't subdued was the nursery. Glancing toward the large clump of bushes, Ravenstar saw what looked like two-dozen kits tumbling around and playing in front of it, though he suspected it was closer to ten. Larkfeather's latest litter had certainly brought quite a few new faces into the Clan, and so far not a single one of them had perished to injury or sickness. Soon his Clan would be stronger than all the others... if they could feed the ravening horde.

[:c a i:]

Streamfur squinted cautiously as a rather strong gust of wind buffeted him in the face. Typical. What a blustery day it was. He imagined that they would have trouble catching prey today, for no creature liked to be out in such strong winds. With a rather pointless effort to smooth his already ruffled grey fur, Streamfur padded across camp, past the fresh-kill pile and looked up to see the dark figure of Ravenstar, sitting outside his den. He followed the direction of the leader's gaze, wondering what he was watching, and then he spotted the little bubble of activity that was the nursery, and a half smile crossed his features briefly. The kits were so energetic, no matter what was happening around them. They all looked strong and healthy... And were bound to be hungry. Shifting his thoughts back into deputy mode, Streamfur glanced at Ravenstar and called over the whistling wind.

"Good morning, Ravenstar." He hoped his greeting reached the black cat's ears. "Those kits are certainly keeping Larkfeather's paws full." He remarked. "They grow fast. I imagine they will be devouring fresh-kill at great speeds." And by the looks of things, they would have to get a move on if they were to keep the fresh-kill pile at acceptable levels. Hunting patrols would have to be sent out.

[Amber]

Ripplepaw slowly padded out of the apprentices den, not minding the wind today. She never had minded the wind, and infact had enjoyed the feeling of it on her fur. Nothing seemed more calming than having that feeling.

Usually the apprentice only got this feeling while running, and it was slightly exciting to not run around just trying to amuse herself. Never in her life had she been so depressed. She felt deprived of attention. Thistlefrost was off helping Mintleaf with the kits, and Ripplepaw had yet to meet her neices and nephews. She decided against it the day she was given a temporary mentor, while Thistlefrost helped out Mintleaf.

She let a slight hiss escape from her mouth at the thought. Thistlefrost wasn't the big brother she had been used to. Nothing bothered her worse than not seeing him everyday, but she felt that was his fault, not her own. He could at least come and see her, but no, he just had to stay with Mintleaf.

Maybe she should try to make up with him. Ripplepaw padded to the fresh-kill pile and looked at it, thinking of bringing the queens something to eat. She contemplated for a while, and moved away from the pile, not ready to face her brother just yet. She needed to cool down and get over her anger issues with him first.

So she found a spot, and sat down, enjoying the wind in her fur. Ripplepaw may be a little strange, but she didn't care at this moment.

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

Harewhisker padded into camp, pausing at the entrance to shake his brown fur out. The strong wind had left it ruffled and unkempt-looking. He didn't mind the wind- they were called WindClan after all- but it made it harder to pick up scents and even harder to run when you were against the breeze.

He hadn't even been able to catch anything. He prided himself on his hunting skills, which were superior to his siblings'. But when he couldn't catch even a single piece of fresh-kill it didn't put him in the best mood. He glanced at the fresh-kill pile. It was steadily becoming smaller, especially with all of the kits that needed feeding.

"Great StarClan, it's so hard to catch anything today!" He exclaimed, sitting down dramatically. "It's as if all the rabbits are hiding from the wind!" Harewhisker glanced from Ravenstar to Streamfur, guessing they were as frustrated as he was.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Ravenstar spotted Streamfur making his way across camp, the buffeting wind making his fur even messier and more ruffled than usual. The grey-furred deputy made his way over and started conversation on the topic of the three moon-old kits. "The whole Clan needs to be fed, them especially," Ravenstar commented, dipping his head in greeting to his deputy. "Why don't you send out a hunting patrol to flush out the rabbits that haven't taken shelter? I'm sure the queens would appreciate it."

Glancing around camp, he spied Harewhisker, who looked as if he had just come back from hunting. His jaws were empty, symbolizing the poor conditions beyond the sheltering ferns. "Probably as many cats as we can spare should be out hunting right now," Ravenstar meowed thoughtfully. "Ripplepaw doesn't look like she's doing anything useful. Ever since Mintleaf's kits have been born and Thistlefrost has been lurking around the nursery, she hasn't been getting much training. Why don't you include her in one of your patrols?"

[:c a i:]

Streamfur dipped his head ingreeting as Harewhisker approached. He gave a brisk nod in Ravenstar's direction; he would take out a patrol shortly. But judging from the looks fo Harewhisker's lack of prey, it would be difficult to bring back anything at all. Harewhisker rarely failed to bring back anything, so every spare cat would have to pitch in and attempt to bring something back, at least until the poor hunting conditions had blown over. "No luck?" He meowed, knowing the frustration of not making a catch. "I suppose I'd better round some others up and see if we can find anything. Maybe the wind will die down a bit soon." He twitched his ears thoughtfully as he scanned the camp.

"I'll get Ripplepaw... Who else looks free?" Streamfur glanced at Harewhisker. "I don't suppose you'll feel like going out again." He squinted, surveying the camp and deciding who was best to take out on a hunting patrol with him. He thought he could see Rowanclaw... And just behind a boulder, was that Heathertail? He'd go and round up whoever he could shortly.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Ravenstar dipped his head to his deputy and got to his feet. "I trust you will choose well, whoever you take with you," he meowed pleasantly. "Good hunting." Flicking his tail in farewell, the small black tom slid around the Tallrock and slipped into his den, taking shelter from the ceaseless wind. Being outside in fair weather was all fine and good, but he nevertheless appreciated the protection and privacy that his den offered him. And on a day like this, Ravenstar was prepared to take advantage of it.

A chaotic wind blew overhead, further confusing the senses of a cat who was never completely sure of herself in the first place. Finshstep minced quickly across camp as if sneaking through enemy territory, her light green eyes darting wildly from side to side as she weaved drunkenly through the heather. The small brown tabby caught the scent of a Clanmate and swerved in that direction, weaving silently toward a couple of tabby toms. It was Harewhisker and Streamfur.

Swiftly she moved to sit between them and began determinedly gnawing on a forepaw. After a moment she stopped, and stared at the paw in confusion. Shaking her head to clear it, Finchstep fixed her gaze on Streamfur and said purposefully, "Run for my life." It wasn't an alarmed meow, and in fact it seemed a bit like a question... no, a request. She looked at him expectantly, cocking her head to the side, and settled her paws neatly in front of her.

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

"I'll go," Harewhisker offered, already preparing himself to go out onto the moor again. "I might as well try some more." As his leader padded off toward his den, he ran names of cats who could come with through his head. "I think Dustfur is on patrol, but I can find Heathertail. She's probably hiding from the wind like the rabbits."

He just watched, half confused and half entertained as Finchstep came over, appearing to be spooked at something. He moved over to give her room to sit down. She was looking at Streamfur, so Harewhisker didn't say anything and wondered to himself what she meant by 'Run for my life.'

[:c a i:]

Nodding appreciatively at Harewhisker, Streamfur was about to open his mouth to thank the warrior, when he was interrupted by the arrival of a she-cat, who placed herself rather unceremoniously in between him and Harewhisker. Gazing at her with a slight frown, he wondered what on earth had made her come over and announce herself in such an... Unusual manner. Something wasn't right with Finchstep. "Run for my life"? Was she saying that as a... Question? An order?

A pause stretched out as Streamfur considered how best to reply. If he felt confusion, it did not appear on his face and he regarded the she-cat with a calm expression. "Is that a request, Finchstep?" He finally said in a cool voice. "Perhaps you ought to tell us what is endangering your life first, then we might consider... Running." He glanced briefly at Harewhisker, as if to try and discover some answers from the other tom, but he seemed as baffled by the cryptic words as he was.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Streamfur may have been perplexed by Finchstep's rather sudden appearance, but if he was waiting for an explanation, he was going to be there a long time. The brown tabby's attention had already wandered to where the kits were playing in front of the nursery, and a confused look came into her eyes. "Why they are line camp is for every cat so young it's so sad?" she mewed quietly, still looking at the kits. The little bundles of fur were running around the clearing, playing at Clan battles. "Kithood is so short," she said regretfully, about the first sentence that she had uttered that actually made sense.

Turning her head back to Streamfur and Harewhisker, Finchstep seemed to notice that she was sandwiched between them, and she stepped back hurriedly, a suspicious light in her eyes. "I will come," she said, "but you don't have to worry about me. I'm like the grass." Then, leaving the two toms with that perplexing statement, she got up and wandered a few tail-lengths away to sit and watch the tumbling kits. Only the tilt of her ears betrayed the fact that she was still paying close attention to the two toms, and was listening to everything they did.

[☆ Y e l l o w ☆]

Harewhisker had a hard time understanding what Finchstep said, and only got what she was trying to say by the second statement. He nodded slightly, confused by the change in topic. Kithood was rather short. It never seemed to be short enough from the kits' point of view, however.

Once Finchstep had gotten up and padded off toward the kits, Harewhisker shot Streamfur an even more confused look. "I'm like the grass?" He repeated in a quizzical tone.

Heathertail padded over at that moment, having been laying in a corner of camp, finding shelter by the ferns of the warrors' den. "Did I hear something about going hunting?" She asked. Even though the wind was irritating, the chance to get out of camp and be on the moor lit up her face, as it always did.

[:c a i:]

Streamfur returned Harewhisker's bemused look, rolling his eyes very slightly. "Er... I won't even attempt to explain her. I don't think you'll meet a cat quite like Finchstep again..." He muttered back in a low voice so that the strange she-cat did not hear. "Never mind. As long as she catches something, I have no problems." He shrugged, giving the little kits a fleeting glance before he took in the appearance of Heathertail. Well this was certainly rather lucky. All the cats he needed were coming to him, so he would not need to round up anyone. Excellent. Someone just had to fetch Ripplepaw, and they could be off. And he decided to use (or abuse) some of his deputy power to save himself a trip.

"Finchstep, could you go and ask Ripplepaw to come on patrol? She's over there." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realised that perhaps she was not the best cat to ask... Too late now. Well, how could a simple request be very difficult to pass on to one apprentice? Really, there couldn't be any harm. Grimacing slightly, he glanced at Heathertail. "Yes, we'll head out shortly, when Ripplepaw is ready." He told her, nodding in greeting. "If Finchstep manages to get the message across without making anyone run for her life..." He muttered under his breath.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Finchstep watched the kits tumble and play in front of the nursery, but despite the fact that her ears were trained on Streamfur's and Harewhisker's conversation, she still started when she was addressed. The small tabby turned with a intent look on her face, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Why me he's the deputy he just doesn't want to deal with her but he'll only make things worse but it's me not him so he doesn't care as long as he won't have to intervene which he probably will but there's nothing I can do about it now. "Yes I will of course I'll bring her soon you'll have only several hours to wait," she answered, and padded off in Ripplepaw's direction after dipping her head to all cats present.

The brown and white apprentice was sitting in a clear spot at the edge of camp, and Finchstep approached her warily. The apprentice was known for her ready tongue, which had only grown sharper since Mintleaf's kits had been born. It wasn't so much her tongue that Finchstep was wary of, as her emotions. The empathetic she-cat could feel jealousy, depression, and anger coming off the older apprentice in waves. "Hunting," she said as she stopped in front of Ripplepaw, flicking her ear in greeting. "Rabbit patrol Streamfur sent me, hello." If the words hadn't come out in necessarily the right order, it didn't matter. The meaning was clear enough, or at least it was to Finchstep.

[Amber]

Those mousebrained idiots, they just didn't know anything. All they could talk about was kits and prey. Yeah prey was important but kits were just annoying jabbering furthings.

Despite the apprentice being far away from the conversing cats, she still had no problem hearing their conversation. No, she wasn't trying to listen, or wanting to listen, but her ears just wouldn't stop listening. She prodded at a rock on the ground, having nothing better to do. Ripplepaw needed something to do, anything would be fine with her. If not she would end up going insane.

She just had to think about the word insane. Who better than to approach her than the queen of insanity herself? And the cat just had to be right in front of her. Hadn't anyone heard of personal space?

"Me go hunting?" she questioned, trying to understand what the she-cat was saying. "So Streamfur couldn't come himself cause he is too lazy being a mousebrained idiot." she muttered.

"So he sent the one cat who no one can understand, or better yet try to understand with words that make no sense whatsoever." her mutterings continued. Ripplepaw wasn't usually so...mean, it may have come across that to some cats, but she really wasn't. The anger and jealousy swirling around in her stomach just was becoming too much for her. And the one cat in the world who she enjoyed being around had no time for her.

"Fine. I'll go, but I'm not going to be in a better mood. Make sure he understands that." she hissed. "Do you enjoy confusing your clanmates with your words?" the apprentice questioned Finchstep.