pafp CATALOGUING [ ✩ ] STOLEN TRINKETS

[Cricketchirp]

( ✩ )　 Being cramped in with so many cats who hold no loyalty to the river and its kings is... far from ideal. It's rather awful, in fact. But, Starlightpaw notes as they spread out an array of feathers on a patch of dry ground, it does have its advantages. These were just sticking out a nest, ripe for the taking.

Starlightpaw leans in, craning her neck over the colorful display. Stardappled eyes take in every bit of fluff, flickering across them with keen interest. The apprentice's maw parts, and soft mutterings spill forth. "Pretty... Ah, this one must be a crow, yes, or -- a raven, maybe? No, too short for a raven... Oh, and this one, this one -- so shiny..." He brushes a paw against an iridescent black feather; a grackle, though he does not know its name. They're lost in their observation, head tilted inquisitively, not a thought spared to their surroundings -- or the nest's owner.

LATELY I'M FEELING LIKE ✩ A BIG BANG ! 【 10.15.23 】

• // @CROWPAW!
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• "SPEECH"

• ✩ 　⁺　₊ 　⋆　STARLIGHTPAW.　APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN.　HE / SHE / THEY.
  4 MOONS & AGES ON THE 12TH.　PENNED BY SATURNID.
  
  

  

  ✩ — A WIRY, CURLY-FURRED BLACK SMOKE WITH CLOUDED BLUE EYES.
  

  
  SMOKETHROAT xx CICADASTAR. LITTERMATE TO BEEPAW & CICADAPAW.
  
  MENTORED BY PETALNOSE​

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[CROWSIGHT]

Crowpaw doesn't think someone would trot over to his nest and rummage through his belongings. A foolish notion given the fact that what he thought was normal was not for others it seemed. Seems like keep your paws on your own stuff was not a rule everyone followed. A Riverclanner is the one to eye his treasures a little too closely. Riverclan is friends with their own clan and he very much likes Otterpaw and Brookpaw, but it's not like he would know the name of ever Riverclan apprentice. Or all of the apprentices by paw. These were four clans worth of apprentices after all, a lot of faces and too little time to get to know each other. In any case he glares at the Riverclanner as he approaches his, again, his own nest.

What he hears is them guessing what the feathers are and he would be amused had this apprentice simply waited asked if they could look at his treasures. "Those are mine," he mews. Irritation laces his voice, yet he remains stoic. Hazel eyes land over to his nest, checking if all were accounted for. From what he can tell all are accounted for, yet that doesn't mean whoever this is, is off the hook. "That one is a grackle feather. Also mine. Only look, no taking."