CHEESE SOUFFLÉ — buffet

[SNORLAXMOON]

He's tired.

Snorlax is almost always tired, but, he doesn't think he's ever been this tired. This clan stuff was difficult - tedious, meaningless tasks, silly new names (none of them made sense Snorlax) and rules to learn, exhausting movements to do over and over again. They did this stuff every single day? Snorlax doesn't know how the forest cats stand it, doesn't know how the neighbor cats - kitpots, lighttime warriors, whatever they called them here - could stand it either.

But, after everything the forest cats make him do, it's finally time for his reward. A meal.

They keep their food in an odd sort of pile. Snorlax thinks they need a large bowl for it. Something to hold the large pile of new flavors he imagines in his mind.

As he arrives upon it, it is small, quantity dwindled. Elders, kits, and queens. They eat first, he remembers Thistly telling him. Well, they must have already eaten, what with such a small picking left!

And, oh, what to choose, what to choose? His stomach growls, urges him to pick something. Indecision lays heavy on him.

But...

But, if those who need to eat have already eaten... and he's, like, super hungry... and there's all this new food in front of him...

He'll just pick one of each!

The grey tom leans over the hardly-there pile, grabbing a squirrel. And a mouse. And a bird. And, oh! That bird has different colored feathers to the one he chose - he bets it tastes different! He'll take that one too.

Once satisfied in his pickings, Snorlax drags his collection off to the side of camp, settles down, and begins his feast.
​

 

[ThistleBack]

Crackling limbs, a stretch arching his spine from a shift out in the snows hanging out with the camping Snowpaw. Deersong finishing the end of her shift watching their children, it was a day half done for the lead warrior. Ribs subtly jutted but the layers of muscle hid it well. Fibres threaded with training that would never fade.

Thistleback's attention naturally drawn to the latest recruit of his own consequence. The round faced feline snatching up six warriors worth of food before dragging it and plopping their hefty arse down to chew on it.

Thistleback's scowl and furrowed brows relaxes suddenly. A smile spreads his jaws and it cannot be told whether it held coldness or humor. His lips twitch and he steps slowly toward the snow-trail laid by the newest recruit.

" Snorlax. I'm afraid my imagination... is limited to asking what you could possibly be doing? Surely... you cannot think this is all for you " the warrior steps until his massive black paw plants on the squirrel. His tone revealing not anger nor genuine suspicion. It was as though he spoke to his very own apprentice, Quillpaw. A lesson barbed with reasons.

​

OOC INFO REF

• — mobile post !!i love snorlax omfg hes the light of my life
  
  
• 
  
  
  ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
  thirty-three moons
  — Lead warrior of Skyclan
  — taken by
  Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring quillpaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
• 
  
  

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Silversmoke had issues with kittypets for a multitude of reasons, yet, for all their weakness and uncertain loyalties, he'd found some relief that they at least did not deplete the clan's food source unless they could help it. That is what he would have said if not for encountering Snorlax. Wide eyes did a double-take at the mountain of food that the young warrior had retreated with, and at first, the benefit of the doubt was offered. Smokey scoured for the creature's friends, perhaps some elders, but when it was clear that no one was coming to dine with Snorlax, his bewildered maw pressed into a deep frown. He stormed closer, Thistleback's presence did little to placate the anger that the large feline felt. It was not fair for the wildcats to starve because some kittypet decided that they wanted to eat hard-caught food. He looked the tomcat up and down, and upon concluding that Snorlax clearly wasn't being starved, pinned his black-tipped ears back. Silversmoke listened to the lead warrior speak, their tone reminding him of a Queen giving their kittens a life lesson, but the tabby thought it was too soft. Perhaps if it had been an apprentice, but this was a fully grown feline.

"Couldn't you wait until you went home?" He questioned, doing little to hide his vitriol. Every instinct told him to snatch the food straight from Snorlax's mouth, it took great strength to fight against such thoughts, enough to prevent the tom from getting any closer to the Daylight Warrior. "You're never at risk of starving, are you truly this selfish?". The fur along the tabby's back bristled in a neverending surprise, his claws unsheathed as he pictured a protest from the kittypet. More than any snarky comment or aggressive look, however, Silversmoke was truly baffled at what he was witnessing. How anyone had the audacity to horde food in the winter like a rotund squirrel was beyond any realm of understanding to the community-driven tom.


​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

"Yeah, make sure not to choke on those while you gorge yourself. And leave some for the rest of us, dude." Chrysalispaw's sardonic scoff rolled off of loose lips, as easy as the water that flitted through the paved river, yet as sickly sweet as the honey that hung from the hive. His silky-smooth sounds often stood parallel to his sour spells, like a frigid summer. Standing next to Silversmoke (though at a distance from the older tomcat), Chrysalis' tail hung at an amused half-mast, though nothing else on their body communicated any sort of mirth. His and Silver's tones were quite similar, despite their disagreeable demeanors, and yet Chrys' eyes only trained upon Snorlax.

Despite living in Skyclan, Chrysalis never really liked kittypets and daylight "warriors," as though the other felines remained a completely separate species from him. They might as well be, for they would never have the true experience of living with nothing but one's grit. They'd always have their Twolegs to pamper them, to love them unconditionally. Was he jealous? .... No, of course not. The adolescent considered himself a former colony cat before a Skyclanner, as if his pedigree took prejudice upon his affiliation - blood was thicker than water, after all. Still, he had to bite his tongue when it came to such mentalities, lest the scalding scolds of his peers lash at his body, and his social status started to suffer. Not that he really had a reputation to uphold, anyhow, but he liked to think that he did.

Following Thistleback's motions, the apprentice pawed at a gaunt yet gaudy bird, sinews carved from the harsh sculpting of wintry handiwork. The cold tended to unravel the tendon and tear that hid behind the gloss and gauche of a creature, as he had started to notice the change even amongst his fellow Skyclanners. Flipping it over to expose a bright and feathered underside, he sort of understood why Snorlax would want to wolf this all down. It was tantalizing, especially in the wintertime, when the cold attenuated even the concealed ribs and sheltered gut. Damnit, now his stomach started to rumble...

// ic opinions... i must again apologize for him & i love snorlax
​

 

[SNORLAXMOON]

Despite his indecision on what to grab from the fresh-kill pile, he chooses the mouse to eat first. A small thing, it would leave plenty of room for the rest of his meal to be eaten. An appetizer.

The grey tom takes his first bite of fresh kill and, oh, it's lovely. Such a rich flavor - Snorlax doesn't know why his folks don't feed him this instead! Lighttime warriors had the right idea, coming here for food. The kittypet leans forward to take another bite, only to pause at a familiar voice.

"Thistly, hello!" Snorlax greets the black and white tom. He's done everything just as the SkyClanner had told him to, hadn't he? He thinks Thistly will be pleased with how well he's listened, how well he's completed his tasks, and begun to fit in. Unfortunately, he seems to be wrong.

"Surely you do not think this is all for you."

The kittypet blinks, looks down at his pickings. Well. He chose it from the pile, didn't he? He worked hard, waited until everyone ate - as evident by the empty pile. So... why wouldn't it be for him?

"Everyone else has eaten, haven't they?" he asks with a tilt of his head. Thistly puts a paw on his squirrel, and Snorlax frowns. Had the warrior not eaten? "I can --"

I can share, if you want, Snorlax is about to say, before he's cut off by another voice. And then another. Both harsher than the first.

Had Snorlax done something wrong?

"I thought..." he starts, watching as the small one paws at one of his birds. "But... I worked hard. And... everyone already ate. The pile was almost gone. I thought it was my turn?"

Selfish, he's called by the silver tom, his claws unsheathed. Snorlax moves back, tries to put some distance between him and the warrior. He doesn't understand why everyone's so mad at him, all of the sudden. He did what Thistly told him to do. What could he possibly have done wrong?
​

 

[ThistleBack]

“ Thistly, hello ” The improper shortening of his name was hardly worth correction. Only earning his briefest consideration.

Silversmoke sidles up like a cyclone of irk driven scrutiny, ears flattened and spewing forth much more forward than Thistleback’s sarcastic coax of words. The lead warrior flicks a tail, watching the confusion cast over Snorlax’s muzzle. Chrysalispaw’s foot plants, disturbing feathers and mirroring Thistleback’s move. Cold words spill next from the apprentice. A standoff, questions flit the air and while obvious- it seemed the sheltered life had laid a mighty print into this man’s upbringing.

No doubt this was all, disorientating for the lad. So Thistleback stuffed down a lot of his, considerably flinty words with a clear of his throat. Lowering himself next to the prospective warrior, so that they were eye-level. " all of us work hard, Snorlax. " he begins, " not all of us eat. " one by one, Thistleback moves the pile away from the half-eaten mouse carcass with a single black paw.

" This prey, is all from today’s hunting patrols. Intended, but not quite enough. To feed everyone. " he explains. " Snorlax, I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s morning and I’ve been on four patrols between these hours. I also train an apprentice, and then take my shift of watching my children. Once this is divided up, perhaps I still won’t eat till morning " he hopes the grey tabby is able to retain it better, having given his own example.

" It’s okay, dear lad. How else will one learn if they don’t make mistakes? You did quite good today. just keep in mind, the smaller that pile gets… the more potentially edible you are." he jokes toward the end and places a paw on the kittypet’s shoulder. Steely eyes softening marginally. " tastes good doesn’t it? that’s the flavor of the wild. " he offers a mild shift of topic, despite the veil of reality he had verbally settled on him.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
  thirty-three moons
  — Lead warrior of Skyclan
  — taken by
  Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring quillpaw
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
• 
  
  

​