camp ACTING YOUR AGE ˚⊹♡ game

[ODDGLEAM]

He has let himself wander away from the warrior's den, leaving the warm presence of his and mate's nest. He really didn't want to leave the nest, it was too comfortable... But alas, he has to get up. Untainted pale paws were already getting dirty with a light coating of dust. He lets himself stretch out his body with a small hum leaving his throat. The pale-patched calico had already cleaned his pelt to perfection. Meanwhile, he directed his half-lidded gaze across the bustling camp with a slight tilt of his head. What to do. He lets his paws languidly take him around camp, his mismatched tail sweeping along behind him.

The sunbeams, cracking through wayward branches set their rays along his form as he roamed around looking for something to do. He halts in his steps ...something has caught his eye. His neck cranes up, letting copper eyes peer down at the mossball he almost crushed. Had one of the wayward kits lost it? Staring at the green ball makes a growing buzz of roguish excitement form under his pelt. Oddgleam appears strange, standing and staring at a mossball. His tail twitches, as he brings a paw up to swat at the ball with ears perked forward.

He may be a warrior, but what's the harm of having a little bit of fun?

Pale lips twist into a curl of playful grin, as his tail lashed behind him while he swatted at the mossball. He's in a state of bliss, as he chases after the mossball. With his paws swatting at his new plaything, he cranes his neck up to snap his gaze towards a random clanmate. Pausing in his playing, he flashes the unsuspecting clanmate a beaming smile he steps forward almost as if he's going over to chat it up... Placing the mossball very conveniently between his forepaws. He quickly throws the ball towards the Skyclanner. "You! Think fast!"

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ♡ 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑫𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

• ooc. anyone could be subjected to the mossball attack :3c

• temp oddgleam reference

  

• ( LIKE HONEY IN WARM MILK ) ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ODDGLEAM. ╱ skyclan warrior.
  ⸝⸝ non-binary ; HE / THEY ; 16 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 7TH.
  ♡ bi-pan / polyamorous / mated to crowsight & owlheart
  ♡ pretty, long-legged medium furred sliver-cream calico with copper eyes.
  ♡ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, ac7d88" ; attacks only
  ♡ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ♡ smells like caramel frappe & chilled stone
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone

​

 

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom lived life on the edge. Well, theoretically, at least. In the milksop’s mind, every trivial interaction was a test that had the potential to push him right over. From morning greetings to gatherings (he dreaded the next time he was summoned to one of those), the coward couldn’t ever relax.

That was why when he noticed Oddgleam at the end of his gaze flashing a grin that looked to be nothing but rows and rows of sharp teeth, the perpetually-terrified tomcat began to short-circuit. An anxious mind was quickly searched for any memories; from full conversations to passing remarks, that might have made the other approach. An invisible brow furrowed as Chickbloom came to the conclusion that there was no lingering thread to pick back up.

That meant Oddgleam aimed to start a new conversation. What would it be about? The Scottish Fold hadn’t gone hunting yet, so would it be an offer to work together? Or, from the way he was smiling, maybe the warrior was going to tell a joke? Chickbloom hoped he was good at faking a laugh, just in case he didn’t find it funny.

The baby bird was so focused on whithertos and whyfors that yolk-splashed features hardly reacted when an unnoticed mossball slammed him square in the face.

In a way, it was a relief. At least it meant there wasn’t going to be some complicated conversation to navigate. Instead, all that needed to be dealt with was the action itself. In said pursuit, instead of a loud shriek ringing through camp, a buttery paw raised shakily to rub his nose. “Oww…” Chickbloom winced. It hurt as much as a foam football being thrown by a toddler, but the reaction felt appropriate. After all, the former kittypet had to factor in emotional damage.

Clearly if Chickbloom had been born a twoleg, a life in sports would not be his calling.

The Scottish Fold sat down, hooking the ball with a claw and rolling it back to Oddgleam. “I didn’t - I g-guess I didn’t think fast enough…” he muttered before raising his forepaws in anticipation of another throw. “T-Think…think I can do better this t-time?”​

 

[Oleanderkit]

Oleander knows this game. Doeblaze had her play it, nearly a moon ago now, and she'd done super well at it. Mossball was definitely in her list of best skills. So, seeing the warriors play a kit game, only to totally supremely fail at it, draws a giggle from her petal-hued maw.

Chickbloom whines as the ball makes impact with his nose. Oleander recalls the mossball hitting her shoulder and bouncing harmlessly away; it hadn't hurt at all. "Do you have feathers for bones?" she asks the warrior, because how else could it hurt that much? "Or petals for skin?" A big part of her wants to steal the mossball from his grasp and play with it herself. Her pupils dilate at the prospect; her wispy tail rattles in anticipation. But, thankfully, she does not swipe it before he throws it back to the mottled warrior she has not yet met.

"Mine!" she screeches anyway, darting after the soft green prize with all of the grace of a newborn fawn on stilts. Her willowy limbs catch into a silvery tangle, and Oleander plants her face into the soft earth of camp. Still, a single cream-hued paw clutches her prize. She has won! StarClan, whoever they are, will herald her victory with great fiery braziers and a chorus of gleaming horns! She will go down in history as SkyClan's greatest mossball player! Overwhelmed by her success, Oleander sinks her teeth into the mossball and kicks at it with her hind legs as if it had a life she could drain.

Once satisfied with her kill, she stretches across the camp floor, limbs extending with a satisfying buzz. The girl grins at the sky, pale glacier eyes squinted against the harsh sun. "I did it! I won! Haha!" She is a winner now, so basically everyone should bow to kiss her paw. Unconcerned with the fact that this is not how mossball works, Oleanderkit relishes in her glory.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 03 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

"Hehe..."

They can't help but giggle at poor Chickbloom's fumbling paws and the decided smack of a mossball to his face. He rubs at his nose as if he's been truly hurt, to which a very unimpressed Oleanderkit implies he's weak-boned and lily-skinned. "Oleanderkit, be nice," they meow, trying to scold the kit's sharp tongue but unable to hide the amused purr in their voice that might otherwise encourage such behavior.

Perhaps StarClan had made sure to find her friend some justice as the over-eager child splats face-first into the dirt in pursuit of her greedily sought-after prize. If it deters her, Edenberry wouldn't know... She tears that poor little toy to shreds, leaving nothing but scraps of the mossball's former glory behind while she rolls around in her imagined victory. Her cheering only invites further giggling, standing to pad off to find a new mossball to continue the games with.

They find one with relative ease, tossing it back towards the small group with a feigned drama, "Oh no! Oleanderkit was tricked by the decoy mossball.... Mossballstar is getting away!"

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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 i want no more than this

• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 16 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back
  -- color #728c69​

​

 

[Teeveepaw.]

QUICK, BEFORE YOU SKIP THIS SONG
WE ARE HUMAN AFTER ALL ​

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teeveepaw & 07 moons & nonbinary & they/them & skyclan daylight apprentice ​

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Teeveepaw has never played mossball - but the concept is not entirely unfamiliar. They're watching idly as Oddgleam starts the game - a quiet snort even leaving the apprentices lips when Oleanderkit gleefully destroys the toy. But Edenberry is quick to make another.

When green rolls towards their paws, mismatched eyes narrow into focus easily - it's not unlike the toys their twolegs provide them with for play, and pouncing upon it is as easy as breathing. Tail flicks for a moment as they think, before long limbs sends the ball flying again - curious as to who will catch it next. They aren't one to play games very often, but they must admit this is rather fun.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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