It was the act of standing idly by that got to her the most, not the cold that was promised by the shortening days of leaf-fall that bothered her. It was the lack of things to do that was brought with it. So she often found herself indulging in the mundane chores to keep her wandering thoughts at bay. As in this case for instance, organizing herbs. It was a chore that she never took lightly. Sage green eyes roved the stores that had been woven into the wall. Near the entrance to her den- one of the most permanent structures in all of RiverClan camp- rivets were dug out of the wall. It provided the attending shallow shelving, even past her eye height. Each held its own individual components- sun-dried and pressed herbs stashed in stacks as neatly as she could possibly get them. Chunks of bark and roots dotted the withered treatments of wilted flower heads and shriveled leaves. Thankfully she and Sagewhisker had done well in saving supplies in the warmer months, setting RiverClan as a whole up for success in the lifeless months ahead. Oh, Sagewhisker ... She thought about him often. Much to the disapproval of their beloved Rosestar, she held a fondness for her mentor. It was easier for both of them if they kept their distance from one another. Even still, that didn't stop her from seeking his guidance while in private. While she now understood what her mentor had done had broken their fragile code ... Palefrost believed that his mistake was between him and StarClan.

      The pale she-cat would shake the thoughts from her head, aligning her focus to find something to occupy herself with. And in that moment, a thought would flash across her consciousness. With the season of respiratory illnesses quickly approaching, it became very important to maintain a clean environment. As a reflex, her claws tangled into the spongy substrate below. Her more immediate attention would shift to the bedding where it had been strewn about the den. Once it had been evenly placed. But now, it was far more haphazard than what she would have liked. And the longer she looked, the more the itch grew to have it changed. With a quiet huff, Palefrost would set to her task. Setting out to address the worst of it first before moving on to the points in lesser need. In quiet but focused movements, the young she-cat began the process of kicking out what she had deemed soiled enough to change. Sending it towards the entrance in clumps that she would get around to gathering it up after she was finished. The lightly toned muscles in her shoulders rippled with each hooking motion. The rhythmic sway rocking her into her thoughts as she worked. Perhaps she could flag down Leaftail to find someone to assist her with carrying it back to the river. Not that she couldn't do it by herself, it would just be far less time consuming to have some assistance.

ooc. open thread anyone?