The Very Hungry Caterpillar; Open, Storytime

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    TURN AROUND, THERE'S NOTHING THERE


    Marigold often turned bitter when she was bored. The morning prior to the current one she was currently experiencing, she had been exploring, searching for something to do. She had come across quite a bit: a paint canvas, a broken twoleg vase, even a book of murder mysteries. This she figured was left over from some other group, as it was written in a language she could understand. However, she could not transport any of her items back to camp. Even if the spirit had been able to, she would of had to leave them behind on the territory move anyways, so it was a lost cause.


    The next morning, however, she found a way to quench her boredom and prevent her bitterness. It wasn't physical, so she could do it without assistance. It was an activity that her mother had done with her many a time, and she was happy to share it with the clan.


    An excited smile plastered on her maw, the spirit lifted herself onto a rock at camp. Her eyes twinkled in the morning dawn light, and she shifted her paws on stone. "Storytime!" she meowed, swishing her feather-like tail through the air. "All ages are welcome to attend!" Although storytime was usually an activity for younger StormClanners, the spirit had planned a few extra things, variations for the older as well as the young.


    EVERYTHING'S VANISHED IN THE AIR


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    Storytime? Hm. Maybe it'd provide some entertainment. He was quite bored. The male would go over with a small huff, folding his wings and sitting down. This could be fun right? "I hope this turns out to be fun." He said. Maybe there was small talk to be made.

    Storytime was almost always fun in her opinion. She liked stories, and a lot of youth did too. The ginger shecat decided to go over, offering the starry feline a friendly smile before sitting down. Blazestar adjusted her flowercrown as well, as it was almost falling off her head. Then she would wait for the stories to begin.

    [center][fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 465px; font-size: 9pt; font-family: lucida sans unicode; overflow:hidden; text-align: justify;][color=black]The former sheriff didn't mind a story-telling session every now and again, though he would never participate or share any stories of his own. The purpose of the activity is to entertain, not depress or upset those willing participants. He had very few happy memories for himself and those that he did carry had mostly been tarnished by destruction, war or carnage at one point or another. In addition, he'd never really been good at relaying fictional stories either, so he was a bit shit out of luck in this one. So, he simply decided to keep his silence. He would, however, seat himself on the sidelines and listen in to those who did wish to share some stories.

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    Feather hopped over and took a seat silently. The ginger tom was currently bored out of his mind and stressed out. So stressed he clawed at his own pelt sighing.


    made by Norwegian Spirit

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    He'd feel more inclined if it wasn't downright referred to as 'storytelling'. That did sound sort of childish. There wasn't, of course, much else he could do than hang around camp. The pine marten's shoulder was healing, but it was still broken, so that meant no patrolling, no hunting, and no fighting. Han was bored. The old smuggler got up with a soft grunt, and limped over, ear flicking. Maybe there was something interesting to be heard today. He wondered if Lessa would show up, though she seemed busy in HawkClan lately; she loved stories.


    [align=center]american pine marten - ref. - windclan/stormclan - smuggler
    no powers - attacks in lightsteelblue

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    Ahanu


    IC opinions - "Speech" - Attacking - 'Thoughts'
    It seemed the promise of a story had attracted even a little bison calf- he wasn't even part of the clan, but he didn't seem old enough to realize that as he galloped onwards, long, spindly legs trying not to topple over. He let out a high-pitched, quiet grunt in response, hopping in place as he neared the group. None of them seemed hostile, and the calf didn't seem to care. He was chewing on grass, impatiently awaiting the story's beginning.
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    Tags and Plotting Thread

    A smile formed on Marigold's maw as many of her clanmates moved to listen. She had never been the center of attention before and was used to being alone, so this was an interesting, new experience for her - one that she was ready to tackle, conquer, enjoy...whatever happened. Although the spirit expected herself to be nervous with such a crowd, she found her heart calm, her nerves and pelt relaxed. Confidence pounded through her, and she adjusted her paws to stand taller.


    "Alright, thank you for coming," she meowed, testing out her voice. It came out clear and loud, just the way she had wanted it. Her gaze found the younger members of StormClan, resting in kits and calves with a gentle glow. "Does anyone know the story the Tortise and the Hare? It originated as a twoleg story." She then paused to see if there was any response before continuing or if anyone had heard the story before.

    Bubblegum ran into the group taking a seat. She loved stories and likes miss Marigold quite a lot. Purring to herself she tilted her head at the story idea. Oh that sounds so cool! She didn't know what it was and was really curious. Grinning a bit she looked up to Marigold excitedly.

    Nope he couldn't say he had heard of them. The male would shake his head. "Never heard of it." He said, waiting for the other to continue. Surely they knew what it was if they were talking about it? He wasn't sure why they were talking about twoleg stories, but whatever floats the boat really.