camp Another conversation with no destination ꒷꒦ Eavesdropping

[Puddlekit..]

It was important to listen to the grown cats when they talk, at least she thinks so. It’s important to listen to Moltface when he talks and so far it’s been important whenever Mockingbirdcry talks too. So thats two important adult cats, Smogstar is the leader so that makes him important.. Surely with a third then the rest of ShadowClan’s warriors must be important too. So she listens, and she listens well. Listening doesn’t mean obeying of course, she goes out of her way to find some kind of loophole in that regard. She’s aware though, very much so, and she liked to listen even when the grown cats didn’t think she was. Oftentimes pretending to be asleep so she can listen to her papa talk with others, about dramas around camp or about her day.

She found she liked listening to the goings on around camp, or about other clan mates. Gossip was the word, at least she thinks so? She should ask someone sometime. There was a particular spot that she liked to sit, by the side of the warriors den. Other haunts that she frequented included behind the nursery (it gets too quiet for her liking sometimes) or beside the fresh-kill pile (it takes a while for the smell to get to her but when it does she’s quick to leave). That’s where she was today, beside the warriors den as the midday sun beamed harsh against the clan, warming the black parts of her chimera fur. Just when she was about to retreat back to the nursery she heard the voice of someone talking! It sounded interesting, clearly this was some kind of this gossip thing that she liked to hear about. A tiny kitten head peers around the side as she tries to see who was talking.

The butt-sniffer… Ferndance she thinks? She told interesting stories, out of the grown cats she was one of her favourites- apart from Moltface of course. Large ears that she hasn’t quite grown into yet twitched as she scooched forward, thinking that it would provide a better angle to hear. In her mind she was still quite well hidden but to the rest of the camp it was very obvious that she was trying to eavesdrop on Ferndance’s conversation.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎﹏﹏ ooc ᭣ I got all the power ﹏﹏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  llistening to @FERNDANCE but no need to wait! anyone can catch her eavesdropping <33
  

• 

• PUDDLEKIT || She/her, kit of ShadowClan, one moon
  ♡ A short haired fawn rosette tabby and black rosette tabby chimera with copper eyes. Always seems to be judgmental.
  ♡ Adopted child of Moltface || Littermate to Runningkit, Cloudkit, Buzzardkit, and Nightkit.
  ♡ Penned by Juice || message on discord (Ouijeejuice) for plots!
  ♡ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking.
  

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

"I mean... he's got this brooding look to him, combined with that voice that could melt ice, he's quite stunning. But... that personality... he's a little too plain and grumpy for my tastes, besides, I think Needledrift needs me now. I can't split my time between her and..." The cinnamon tabby's voice continued, quiet and polite amidst the gossiping circle she found herself within. She was settled on the earth, halfway between completely splayed out and loafing, a pile of frog bones at her paws whereas her companions were still only halfway done with their own. Her love life was a topic seldom breached by the clan, they knew her to be Needledrift's mate and she'd always been comfortable with that moniker, but it seemed some of her denmates had been interested in her thoughts on a certain tom. As she continued justifying why she wouldn't pursue him, her emerald eyes spotted a little shape out of the corner of one of them, as conspicuous as a badger in the sky. She paused her thought to gesture with her pupils towards the eavesdropper, a smile creeping upon her muzzle. Well, that ended that conversation, lest she reveal her dating preferences to a kitten barely weaned off of milk.

She shuffled in place, brain searching for an entertaining topic and latching onto the first one that came up, regardless of its absurdity. "I heard he secretly worships the frogs of the forest. We know the way he steals their eggs... with his stomach. Apparently, it's so the frog king won't feel challenged by a new threat. It's all true." An urgency entered her gaze as she tried to convince the others of the 'fact', a droll amusement lingering in the twitch of her whiskers and sway of her tail. "They say... if you hear a low croak in the night, almost like the groan of a falling tree... that's the frog king calling out to him, his.... boyfriend within ShadowClan. Dun... dun... dun..." A toothy, half-feral grin soon replaced Ferndance's composed expression. Ferndance snuck a glance towards Puddlekit, hoping the other was taking it all in.
​

 

[smogstar]

Pulling a coherent thread from the fantastical stories Ferndance weaves is no small feat. One must not only track the startling twists and turns the tale-teller takes, but also be wiling to endure the molly's penchant to expound upon any and all details in obtuse detail. Here is a feline so prone to gushing, she often drowns her audience in a torrential flood. A rapid-running river of syllables and metaphors, flowing and merrily babbling past any suitable endpoint.

Even with the extraordinary gifts vested into him by the stars above, Smogstar can only wield an "I'm sorry, what?" to counter what he'd heard. He'd been freshkill pile-bound when passing by the tawny warrior, only to be snagged by his scruff at the mention of frog's eggs and boyfriends. Now, having listened to this fascinating - if not mildly alarming - anecdote, the leader's bewildered amber eyes linger. Stuck in place, processing, seeking logic where none can be found, and failing to parse any conclusion whatsoever.

"Right, yeah, right," Smogstar eventually responds, tone flat and brows knitted together in confused wonder. He leans back, head cocked slightly to one side, and regards Ferndance quizzically. "Except, we all know it's Wartstar who leads the frogs here. And Wartstar's a molly-frog."

The taupe-coloured lump of fur, peering and blinking dumbly from near the nursery, hadn't gone unnoticed. Matter of fact, Puddlekit is to thank for him entertaining Ferndance's theatrics instead of continuing onto his prior errand. ​