can't the future just wait ⸸ garlic monch

[Magpiepaw]

He had defied the sacred garden, ripped from the earth its treasures in secrecy in order to learn, to observe. Dirty paws carried him swiftly to the edge of the camp but he did not enter for his crimes were momentous and his fur cloaked in the signs of his treason; clutched between filth stained teeth a clump of dirtied ground lay wrapped still around the bulbous white prize. Magpiepaw had dug up a garlic. The black and white tom only knew these were now sacred, gifted to them by StarClan but he had not yet determined what purpose, nor had anyone else to his knowledge.
Plucked but not rolled in.
He had already broken one of the rules but he was determined to understand more of this mysterical plant.

It was time to experiment and so he settled down to clean the clover, grimacing through grit as he rasped a tongue over it to rid it of dirt far thicker than any he had ever groomed from his own pelt; a scratching sound rising with each tortured lick until finally he had the odd sphere-like root between his paws; white and round as the moon from above but lumpen and mishaped, from its bottom many spindly strands of white emerged like the stems of flowers. Some kind of earthen flora.
Magpiepaw leaned down, took it between his teeth and bit; crunching through the outer layer and his mouth filled instantly with a taste so bitter and sour all at once that he felt himself retch on impulse; back arching in disgust but his will stronger than a mere plant and the contents of his stomach remaining within. Horrible, but he must learn more.
Teeth peeled back white petal-like layers, shred them as he tore apart the garlic to reveal its innards at last; white teardrop like seeds as big as his eye. He had already bitten through to one and left it mangled, but he plucked another undamaged from the hollow to hold in his mouth in curiousity. Would keeping this on him make him a better hunter?
A new charm. A starlit gift with a terrible taste. He rolled it in his mouth. How exactly did one achieve this without plucking? He didn't understand.

---

[Ooc]
Story Prompt 20: StarClan has recently come to Starlingheart with a prophecy: "ShadowClan may hunt more freely with wild garlic. It is not to be plucked, but to be rolled in." Albeit a little confusing, the message is very straightforward for StarClan's standards. At least they've provided instructions! Have your character try to figure out the meaning of this prophecy, and its implications.
​

 

[Rainecho]

Rainecho had been watching her apprentice like a hawk from the moment he had strode back into camp with a clove of garlic perched between his teeth, her mismatched eyes following him from where she laid in the shadows with no intention of getting up. Her fluffy white tail flicks lazily as she watches Magpiepaw take his own place laying down, take a piece of the garlic and crunch it between his teeth. The following reaction causes a loud laugh to escape her. She feels bad but at the same time... "Maybe that'll teach ya to eat random crap Magpiepaw. What are you even doing anyways?" she cannpt help the curiosity that had overwhelmed her, making her rise to her feet and stretch long limbs out in front of her before treading over to the strange black and white apprentice. She swears he is always saying or doing something weird, not a dull moment around this kid no sir! It was part of the reason she liked being his mentor so much... Free entertainment!
​

 

[GOOSECHASE]

to be honest, goosepaw didn't really care too much about the prophecy starclan had sent to them. if anything they were disappointed that it wasn't more mystifying, like out of all the things their dead ancestors could've said to starlingheart it had to be about some stupid garlic? BORING. the rest of them can waste their time trying to decipher it while he focuses on the more important things in life like deciding what to eat or if he should bother the other apprentices into leaving camp with him to go see who can catch the biggest frog. (he'll obviously win)

goosepaw is still mulling over what to do when sudden loud laughter erupts from the shadowy corners of camp and upon flicking his gaze over towards the source he realizes it was just rainecho who was conversing with magpiepaw which wasn't really anything significant but then his eyes honed in on inky paws which were surrounded with torn greenery and petal-like things. curious, the apprentice made his way across the clearing to investigate and was magpiepaw. . . eating grass?

"uh, is he pretending to be a rabbit or somethin'? did pecking at the ground for worms not work out in the end-" their words aren't meant to sound mean but it comes off that way. they just don't know alot about the young tom besides his love for avians and wobbling. . .and also saying weird things time to time. ​

SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE✦ CHARMING BLUE AND WHITE TABBY ✦ 11 MOONS​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† Magpiepaw is a soul she avoids with a swiftness, always fuzzy - eyed to their strangeness. Acutely in her mind still, is one of the first of their meetings. Sharppaw a victim to his assult – assessment, suddenly and wrongly declared something better. Never did Sharppaw ever see him participating in much in the ordinary. Hardly outgrown from kittish things. Kittish, is that what they were? The early bell of mental turmoil seemed to ring in her ears. She has seen it before, but this...

Her face contorts in a deeply-won frown as he slips into camp, bulb in maw. He carries at as one would a mouse after a long day of training, but the skin is flaked white, moth wings; and the meat is... well, she doesn't really know. Her blink is slow as she watches him settle over it like his last supper. It's the sort of think you couldn't look away from.

The first retch is enough. At least, you would think so. Sharppaw's ears flatten at the sound on impulse, muffling the gag of bile and squawk of a laugh nearby. Only the stars would ever know why he continues, peeling back layers in something resembling an insects' molt, until he's left with a less-than-appetizing center. Sharppaw's frown only deepens by the second, brows pressed together along with it.

" You didn't listen, " to Starlingheart, she means. It is not maliciously said, more of an observation than anything. And she wonders why he isn't. Was this part of a theory? Strangely, she feels that it'd be dangerous to poke around in his head. Somewhat wearily, she eyes him up and down. He didn't think rabbits were a part of it, though.​

 

[Magpiepaw]

Rainecho finds mirth in him, mostly. He feels her annoyance at times but his mentor his relatively kind if not direct and her abrasiveness. He likes her, the remark does not lessen this as it might anyone else.
"Studying." His mewl is plaintive, quiet, he feels not a hint of shame though his words are muttered around the clove in his mouth and he deftly tucks it into the corner of his cheek until Goosepaw arrives and with alarming prescision he rolls it back atop his tongue and his shot aligned. Cheeks puffed up and air inhaled through his nose, Magpiepaw spits the piece of garlic full force directly into the stripes apprentice's face with a precision he wished he had hunting instead. He was too uneven, too awkward, to be very skilled in his crouch and stealth but for direct combat a garlic to the forehead would suffice. Whether his foe was vanquished mattered not because a new, horrifying threat rose before him.
You didn't listen.
Shutter click, paparazzi camera flashing; his blue-violet eyes dart to Sharppaw so quickly it was a wonder they didn't pop out of his head in the process. If his piercing stare was akin to claws the dark-furred older apprentice would be spilling out blood onto the ground at their paws in this very moment.
"Will it be you who tells? Will it?"
Did he have the nerve for it? The steel will?
​