camp BREAK STUFF ⭑ intro

[DOLLFACE]

⭑—— A tall silver-tabby form, surprisingly muscled, makes her way across camp; Dollface has just returned from patrol and she deposits the large bird she's caught on the pile. Her size makes it difficult to get into the trees at times, but the long legs of her serval great-grandparent aid her. She wouldn't know it, but good breeding has endowed her with strong traits of the wildcat whose blood she carries, stronger perhaps than a poorer-bred Savannah—maybe it adds to her wilder temperament. It's harder for her to get into the trees than some smaller Clanmates, but once she's up there, her toweringly muscular frame means she can wrestle some of the larger birds that flock in their forest.

She hasn't been in SkyClan long, no more than a few moons, and she's still adjusting to Clan life. First she'd lived the pampered life of a purebred kittypet, a rare "win" for her owners as her other sisters have been kept back to have kittens; she'd been spared that fate by virtue of a hefty payment. It had gone to waste in the end when she'd escaped out a window to the life of a rogue, of wild greenleaf nights and the hot smells of gasoline and prey. Moons of fights and enemy-making and some horrible relationships before she'd landed here; the unexplained scars that zigzag in a raised false smile of tissue tell that story. She has not been here long at all, and occasionally she's still reminded that (except for a few others) her new home has been designed for mainly cats much smaller than herself.

Dollface, still bearing her old name, is reminded of that now, quite against her will. She's padding across camp, sharp wild-lined eyes searching for some conversation or a playful game in which to participate (or a fight or gossip session, she's really not too particular), when quite out of nowhere a low-hanging branch of a very young tree meets the space between her eyes with a meaty thud! sound. Pain hits her quick and she begins to yelp, heedless of any tender-eared kits nearby, "Ow, fuc-"

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╭┈ • ┈ ୨ OOC -༺☆༻ INFORMATION ୧ ┈ • ┈╮ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

• ooc: this is me testing out her character, so she might get dropped! just a fair warning to everyone :)
  

• 

• ⭑ dollface — named for her now-scarred beauty she/her ; afab cisgender female — skyclan — warrior — tbd ☾s —— dollface is an f3 savannah—a kittypet, turned rogue, turned warrior of skyclan. her once-effortless beauty is somewhat marred by deep glasgow smile scars cutting across her face; perhaps they are from one of the many enemies and broken hearts left in her wake, but she's never said. —— smells like cheap perfume, gunpowder, and pine ; sounds like maxine minx ; speech in #fc919b, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; may start fights ; may flee ; may show mercy ; will kill or maim —— bisexual biromantic, single with a lot of exes, not really looking ; open to casual interactions, friendship, planned romances, plotting ; not open to unplanned romances or unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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[CHALK]

⭒✧ A willowy frame snagged Chalk's drifting eye. He was curled neatly beside the warrior's den, shoulders sloped in comfort as he discussed something with another cat. Still murmuring thoughtfully, the tom divided a little of his attention to watch Dollface stride into the clearing for a beat. Her hefty catch was of some interest, however it was only when a twig clipped the pewter molly's brow.

Chalk eyes snapped shut in a sympathetic impulse. Unwinding from the earth, he washed his tail apologetically towards Dollface. "That was unlucky. Though I anticipate you deal with it a lot?" An innocent question, keenly lined with the barest trace of amusement. Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, he paced a half circle around her and eyed the bird in her jaws. "That's big." ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchbolt was- as ever, whenever he was situated simply in camp- working at some tangles in his pelt. Some stubborn ones that refused to smooth out- and even when they did, they stuck in opposing directions. Made him look a mess, dishevelled... even when he was looking after himself. Though it did not help that SkyClan's camp was often teeming with odd happenings, distractions running amok... and anything snagged on fur as knotty as his. Including distractions.

His attention snapped up when he heard the whap of a twig- and the beginning of Dollface's expletive. Twitchbolt was not someone with a clean vocabulary himself- a habit he would readily blame on Quillstrike, who seemed to revel in being foul-mouthed- but so near kittens...?

It was hypocrisy, he knew. He'd once lost his temper, shouted... a handful of choice words at his mother and father right in front of the nursery. But- still, shouldn't be the norm, should it? As he recognised the word that was about to tumble from her maw, he cut through her, voice sharp as his wide eyes snapped to the mouth of the nursery. "Ffffff-furballs...!" Not a particularly imaginative euphemism.

When he'd cut through the clamout- his own, and Dollface's- he sidled a little closer, drawing to Chalk's side and offering the fawn-furred tom a quick nod of greeting. His face was rather the picture of guilt for covering her words as he had, but... it had been a reflexive thing, unaided in composure by his constant shaking. "You, uh... alright...?" If Chalk was right, if she dealt with it a lot... wouldn't it lessen the impact of it? Make it not hurt as much...? ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[pearlpaw]

Theres a yelp that brings Pearlkits attention away from the little mossball that she had been pouncing on, head snapping upwards as a chocolate paw continues its swing. SWAT! The mossball goes flying away. Her bottom lip puffs out in mock sadness, awww!! Her toy went bye bye all because she got distracted, but she crouches in to a crude hunting stance mimicked from the older warriors and shes creeping creeping forth- theres a new word.

A NEW WORD! Pearlkit happily prances over, staring at the spotted she-cat before her. "FFffffFF-" she takes a dramatic gasp in, cheeks puffing out with the strain it took to put emphasis on the word. "Fffuuuc-" OH! Yippie! Twitchbolt is here, her favorite-est warrior ever! Cause he looked really cool and one day she VOWS to become cool like him. Her excitement over the new word is forgotten and she instinctively echoes him. "Furballs!" shes giggling, because what he said was a funny, funny word. The other warrior speaks in a silly way, too. Big words that she wont bother to try to rememeber.

And then he asks if the spotted girl was alright. Pearlkit doesn't know if she had learned her name yet, nope. "If- If you puh-t leaves on it, you'll definitely get better. Yeah." she replies earnestly, with the most conviction she could muster. Cause thats what uh, uh, what were their names? Glow... foot? Sky look or something? Erm... She brushes past it cause she cannot be bothered to remember everyones names! Theres only so much space in a little kitten brain and more than half of it remained full of games. "Thats what the big cats do." she just wants to help! Truthfully, though, she wouldn't trust the two big cats she was thinking of... They HAVE to be magic, too. But... But they don't seem like they have kind magic, nuh uh, they're SCARY!
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"speech"​