cold as ice ♰ intro

[Mourningbloom]

❝ TROUBLES WILL COME & THEY WILL PASS ❞​

Cold air hit the tom’s nose as he took a soft breath, causing his muzzle to crinkle uncomfortably. Cold. Familiar, but not what he preferred. Mourningbloom was almost built for it, with his long fur and all, but he still felt the temperature down to his bones. Figuratively, of course. Stars, if it were that cold, he would’ve thought he was dead. Taking another breath, he focused on the marsh’s sounds. There wouldn’t be much prey out. Maybe he could dig for a frog or two? No, too much work. Instead, he sat there, in the middle of the territory, brooding. In fact, he always seemed to be brooding, with his expression never changing. A constant sad look, fitting for a warrior with his name. His name. Awful.

Mourningbloom sighed and allowed his frown to deepen, then he began to think. And that's all he did, until he heard something approach. His ears twitched at the sound, but he remained still, sitting in silence until he could see what approached.
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[smogstar]

Long has Smogmaw waded through the shallow pools of self-loathing, self-pity, and self-dispassion. In certain circles, they call it brooding, and it's a term the deputy himself has used interchangeably.

He likes the word. It's preppy, evocative, and really sets an edge to the impression he seeks to cultivate. The epitome of a complex mind is captured in those two syllables, "brooding." Some cats simply wallow. Other cats, they mull. But to brood implies deep rumination—it's a full experience, a layered self-psychoanalysis, and it shows a depth in character and introspection rarely equaled.

One may brood over a great many things. Status. Life itself and its evasive meanings. Intimate friendships that have deteriorated or lovers who, perhaps, were all too perfect and simply a mirage of self-indulgent delusion. Mere examples. Certainly there are ample possibilities, and they change with one's personal history. Regarding Mourningbloom, his knowledge of his personal history is a tad behind the curve, and he can only grasp at fronds to deduce why the younger warrior broods as he does.

Apathy worn conspicuously on his pelt, Smogmaw treads along the snowy terrain on patrol. Frost clings to the cusps of his fur like a glittery net, and he almost looks as though he came down from the night sky (but such a heavenly description hardly befits his outward demeanour).

When he gazes ahead, he makes out an outline. Initially, he assumes it to be Mourningbloom. Closer inspection informs him that it is, in fact, Mourningbloom. A stray slump perched forlornly in the snow. Sad, fickle-looking, tail tucked, and staring blankly. As mundane a portrait of anguish as one can expect.

"What're you bein' a sook over?" he asks, in a tone - while blunt - suggests no real irritation or enmity. His voice always sounds a little puffed-out and strained. "C'mon, join us," continues the deputy, tail idly flicking towards his patrolmates. "Take a stroll and misplace those pesky emotions of yours. Works for me just fine."​

 

[Mourningbloom]

❝ TROUBLES WILL COME & THEY WILL PASS ❞​

His body remained still, ears now returning to their natural state, resting upon his head as the noise of the patrol became louder. No more time alone, no more time 'enjoying' the cold. Paws shuffled beneath him as his demeaner stiffened up slightly, raising his head to acknowledge the glittering deputy. His eyes met Smogmaw's, offering him a nod as a greeting, listening to him speak.

"Nothing important," was the response. Looking over towards the deputy's patrol, he blinked. It wouldn't hurt. A nice distraction from thought. No more. The edges of his mouth curled ever so slightly. "Sure." Even if much wasn't accomplished here, Smogmaw could be right. Somber emotions placed in another space. They could visit another time, another leafbare, perhaps. Or maybe later in the night. Ah, whatever. Mourningbloom stood, the imprint of his resting spot now carved into the snow. The warrior looked ahead, in the direction he assumed they were going, before looking back at Smogmaw.

He would follow behind the other, disappearing into the rest of the patrol. Placing one paw in front of the other, he focused his eyes to the ground, before piping up. "Where are we heading?"
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[SNIPETHORN]

”Welcome.” Snipe meows warmly as Mourningbloom takes the strides to join the patrol. Smogmaw inviting the gloomy Tom was a good idea, it would do one no good to remain idle, but from his observations Mourningbloom had always been the type. Since his time in ShadowClan, so short, the warrior always had a sad look lingering behind his eyes.

”Uh… I don’t know actually. Where are we heading today, Smogmaw?” Curse his ears… how had he not picked up on this information sooner?

🗡️ INFO BATTLE

• » Snipe
  » ShadowClan Warrior (in-the-making)
  » He/him
  » A heavily-scarred chocolate tom-cat with amber eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• » A foe who uses brute strength and hits heavy.
  » Excels in taking opponents head-on.
  » Uses slow but powerful hits to bring them to the ground.
  » Fights to overpower and defeat .
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ]"Perhaps somewhere that has good hunting" a yawn dripped from Snowpaws maw as she joined the others, yellow gaze shifting upon the form of Mourningbloom before dippingbher head in greetings to the other. The cold air nips at Snowpaw's ear and she could wait to get back to camp.

Mostly the territory seemed quiet, aside from the typical noise of a bird or two, even the voice of her clanmates seemed more hushed than that of the silenced world, and at this rate she could not blame others for slipping into those thoughts with how quiet everything seemed to be. "Either way, hope we're not too long, its cold" she grumbled, shaking some snow off of her paw, hoping for an early nee-leaaf so not to deal with the snow any longer.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You've wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

• 
  "speak""Thoughts"
  
• 
  Snowpaw ❄ She/Her, apprentice of Shadowclan, 5 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[smogstar]

Impassive lips coil into a satisfied smirk, if only for a passing moment. No fuss, no protest from Mourningbloom's end, just acquiescence. Orders seldom glide through ShadowClan without snagging on some oppositional thorn. Acknowledging the courtesy given, Smogmaw reciprocates and lifts the weight of his gaze away from the warrior's sullen form. Those who carry a cloud over their heads struggle to bask in the sunlight, this he knows. Though his maw dips to provide an answer, Snipe and Snowpaw first put voice to their shared curiosity.

Nostrils flare and make room for a long-drawn, stuffy exhale—wintry winds show sparse mercy to one's nose. "We're headed in ThunderClan's direction," he begins, words starting alongside his strut. Gait slow, steady, and measured, his sightline hovers rearward above the spine, set solely to ensure Mourningbloom follows. "Not out to the border, though. Dawn patrol mentioned sum'n about seeing a rabbit this way, only the second one spotted this season." Frostbite's fortuitous catch sometime back made for a momentous occasion indeed. Another feast of that calibre would suffice nicely to rouse the clan's flagging spirits. "So, keep your eyes open 'n your ears pricked. I'm sure we'd all like to sleep with stuffed bellies tonight."​

 

[Mourningbloom]

❝ TROUBLES WILL COME & THEY WILL PASS ❞​

With clanmates at his side, he felt a little better, a little more focused on the snowy world around them. He would stay silent still, listening to the others chat about the patrol. Snipe couldn't provide the answer, and at least Snowpaw had a slight idea. An amused look crossed his face as the apprentice complained about the cold, only mentally agreeing with her. Cold. Yeah. Warming up back at camp would be fantastic after this.

His focus then returned to the deputy. A rabbit? Oh, wonderful. It almost made his mouth drool just thinking about it. With Smogmaw's words, he immediately glanced around. He couldn't see anything yet, or smell much. The cold stung his nose too much, but he'd still try. Trying was all he could do. He wondered if it was even possible to catch the thing in this weather - snow, ice, everything considered. It could be fun, a patrol of Shadowclanners chasing a rabbit, but the blue-and-black chimera wasn't entirely looking forward to it. There would be an attempt from him if the chance arouse.
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