Active Reservations [Open]

[attr="class","sheng2"]

[attr="class","sheng3"]—— Some sort of fun.

[attr="class","sheng5"]Open

[attr="class","sheng4"]Much of the lights, the burning work of little lamps and lanterns, that dotted the Tempestclan homes had been extinguished earlier in the evening; with the arrival of night's zenith, the usual soothing and warm soundscape changed to that of nocturnal animal chirps and faraway rustling leaves. Catastor was, in some part, responsible for the foliage commotion. Her sweeping practice swings, though incapable of breaking even the slightest stem, yet managed to leave rippling gusts of wind in their wake. Cutting fatigue in half, Catastor had learnt early on, was as unfair a training advantage as she was allowed to have by her Tempestclan seniors, concerned that she might run herself ragged if she tried to avoid rest altogether; thus, the long night practices she was able to keep doing, while making sure she got some amount of sleep in here and there, were valuable and special in her eyes.[break][break]



The warrior sheathed her weapon and shook her head about, lifting some of her hair from off of the ground. Seeking some rehydration, Catastor made strides back towards the clan homes to fetch some water for herself. Arriving at the crossroads in the center of the village with a remarkably low number of steps, she noted the different directions and, theoretically, what awaited someone at each one if one were to contiously walk until they found other beings. This way, Galeclan; that way, Infernoclan; that other way... once Maelstromclan; this last way... the Clans of the East. Some would see Catastor paused in contemplation at the crossroads and wonder if she was thinking on her own origins, which direction she might have originated from; their mistake would be easily forgiven-- the dark-haired warrior thought only of what kind of practice regimens she might have to emphasize for herself, if she were to know in advance that there would be combat against one of the other clans. The eastern anomalies, however, were more unknown to Catastor than she liked-- knowing was half the battle, or something one of her seniors had quoted once.[break][break]



Snatching up a bucket of well-water with the hilt of her sheathed sword, Catastor took a cool sip and surveyed the ambience of a hushed Tempestclan evening. The communal supply depot, a quaint little stone hut chock-full of fresh produce and ingredients, caught her eye; seeing food items reminded her of how little she'd eaten today since waking up to practice before patrol and then starting practice again after returning from said patrol. Quietly traipsing to the depot, Catastor gathered some eggs and bell peppers. With these, she'd perhaps have breakfast for once-- the sun would inform her of the right time soon enough. Before turning to leave, she scooped up some mushrooms as well; too good to pass up as ingredients for an omelet, she thought to herself with a nod. The recent events discussed at the clan meeting had stripped some clan members of their usual energy and vigor, replacing their appetites with anxiousness and worries; Catastor had delivered vegetables door-to-door since last week, hoping it'd make things easier for those a little frazzled with the heavy news and goings-ons as of late. If asked, the warrior would likely never think to mention the simple half-log bench outside the supply depot as her favorite sitting spot; yet there Catastor was, perched on it once more; her long legs had outgrown the relatively low height of the bench seat some time ago, leaving her leaned at a unique angle so as to allow her legs to stretch out onto the cool grass before her. Breakfast ingredients nestled in one arm and her sword tucked beneath the other, Catastor stared at the hints of sunlight crawling up and out of the dusk horizon-- she'd go back to practice soon enough, probably before her fellow clanspeople started to wake up for the day; a bit of thinking about what was known and not known about the Eastern Clans couldn't hurt, she figured. At the very least, sitting here was comfortable.