private All I had in mind was looking good each day ⚜ Batchaser

[Duckshimmer]

*+:｡.｡ Duckshimmer was typically a woman who had a stronghold of her emotions. She did not conspire to the uncouth behavior of wild outbursts or alarming breakdowns. She didn't fall to pieces when Chilledstar died, nor did she scream and shout like a madman when her kits came of proper age - it simply wasn't polite to infect the atmosphere with petulant dramatics! Thus, imagine Duckshimmer's utter disgust when she found herself suddenly in complete hysterics - you see, she couldn't seem to find it in herself to, of all things...stop...crying.

Shadowclan's resident prim-and-proper would sniffle as she regards Batchasher's infuriatingly unkempt locks. Normally ignorable at best and an eye-sore at worst, Duckshimmer didn't see a point in wasting energy bothering with his chosen direction of cranium floor. Normally, she didn't pay it any mind. Normally. Thus, today was very much abnormal.
"Batchasher" she hisses, irritated by the way her voice creaks with an unflattering shakiness to it, "Fix. it" Perhaps it would've been better if she hadn't drawn his attention - but by this point, she'd been wetly glaring at him for a while so...escaping was no longer an option. Best to double down.

When he doesn't immediately do as she asks, Duckshimmer would loudly huff, so furious that more tears spring into her Dewey periwinkle eyes - or perhaps furious because she finds herself wanting to cry again. Why? Fuck if she knows! But if she wants to stop, she needs him to do as he's told! Stomping over to the young man with all the arrogance of a tantruming toddler (oh how she will toss and turn in humiliation reliving this moment before bed for moons to come), she throws out a paw to yank his head to her level, before promptly grooming his fur tufts out of his eyes[/i] "You and Sneezeduck infuriate me!" she growls through laps, once more sniffling.

He's gotten so big, my little Sneezekit...damn him!

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/5/24

• 
  GENERAL:
  ⚜ Duckshimmer
  ⚜ DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
  ⚜ 33 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ⚜ Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
  ⚜ Shadowclan — Warrior
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ⚜Physically medium | mentally hard
  ⚜ Attack in bold #ffa98f
  injuries: None currently

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[BATCHASER]

He swipes his tongue across his maw, as he finished his meal– a small mouse. The curled bicolor laid on his side, getting frost on his coat as he watched the goings of clanmates in the broken up shade. It was quiet in camp. Legs tucked snugly beneath his slim form, his long tail curled around his sharp haunches. It's cold— freezing, he feels as though he would drown in all this blasted frost. He was content to lay idle and people watch to his leisure... until he heard a sniffle and a sharp hiss call his name.

"Batchaser."

His ears swivel forward with a twitch, before angling back as his hidden eyes snap open from their lazy position. What...? What did I do? The lanky tom's head twitches to the side, spotting the ever prim and proper Duckshimmer... crying. A mess of tears. His neck cringes back slightly, he really doesn't know how to deal with crying mollies. He doesn't! The other warrior was glaring at him now, he cracked his maw open. "Uhh... yes?" After a moment he clears his throat, waiting for the molly to explain.

When the chocolate torbie hisses out a "fix it" he is thoroughly bewildered by what she is talking about. He is stunned, unmoving against the ground he lies upon as he swallows dryly. Large, sharp ears swivel toward her huff– his hidden eyes narrow against his curtain of dark comfort. Duckshimmer approaches him, like an angry parent about to start some dull - sounding lecture... it's quite embarrassing. The corner of his lip twitched as the other warrior threw a paw out to drag his face to her level. He parts his maw and tastes the salt clinging to the corners of her eyes. His paws itch with the need to get up and flee from the confrontation. When he feels the rough tongue groom away the strands of his fringe, his tail tip twitches where it was curled.

Again? Mismatched eyes paired with bruised eyebags were free from the darkness, his fringe provides– flick anywhere but Duckshimmer. Nervous. His gaze flicks toward the powered ground, and Batchaser bends his head down to let Duckshimmer do as she likes. "What... Is all this?" A simple question, low vocals brimming with curiosity. It seems he is stuck here for a while, not going anywhere.

𓂃 𝅄᠂ ⭒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ☽ 𝙃𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙋 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙎

•  

• no ref yet.​

• ( WHAT ELSE ARE UNKINDLED ASHES GOOD FOR? ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ― CISMALE ; HE / HIM ; CURRENTLY 38 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking — mentoring none.
  ✦ a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
  ✦ thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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