no angst dead flowers in the sand .. competition

[lilacfur]

Rosetted fur is dotted with dried bits of mud and speckled with duckweed. Chest heaving deep for breaths of air, the she-cats maw was split with an open smile. Genuine and sincere, the young warrior was having fun in the impromptu match of skill against one of her Clanmates.

On the way returning from a patrol, one of her Clanmates had suggested they could race back to camp faster than anyone there. Of course Lilacfur took the bait, jumping to prove herself among her fellow warriors. If the she-cat was anything it was the proud daughter of their Clan's founder, and she would make it hard for them to forget. The race had been close as Lilacfur tore through muck and splashed through shallow pools of algae-infested waters. In the end they finished with her a mere claws length ahead.

"It was a tie!" She exclaimed, looking at the other cat with the wordless demand to play along. She was in a good mood, they could both say they won. Now with Lilacfur's heart pounding against her chest, her paws itched for more.

"Who's next? I'll bet my odds against any skill." A playful threat thrown for her Clanmates to bite at.
​

[ sad hello's and mad high low's ]​

 

[hitch]

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"Any skill?" Well, that's a bit vague. Rosemire isn't really tempted to take her up on the clear challenge, though; another ShadowClanner might be, but he's muddy and greenleaf has a way of tiring him out, the sun merciless where it fills the sections of open marsh. Mud may deter sunburns, but some of the insects haven't caught the hint and treat him like a walking log, which he might as well be. Point being, there's no skill Rosemire has the energy to clash horns over. "I bet I can burn up faster. That's probably a skill."

His gaze jumps between Lilacfur and her racing opponent she'd tied with. "I assume bragging rights are all you're putting on the line here."
​

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[mottlefox]

What?!" The exclamation comes from a lot closer to the ground than most would associate with Mottlepaw, entirely because he'd flopped over onto the ground of camp as he'd cleared the tunnel threshold and they'd slowed to a stop (it's a lot cooler here than standing up, actually- he might be onto something even if it had been spurred by theatrics). White-patterned sides heave with the exertion of running so far, and as he cracks a bi-coloured eye open to fix upon his old denmate there's nothing but the usual cheeky glimmer that he regards most of his Clanmates with. Attention shifts sideways towards a familiar presence with a - "Rosemire, did you see it? I totally won, right?" - but the pale-furred warrior seems way more interested in taking Lilacfur up on her challenge of any skill.

That's fair, actually. Mottlepaw would probably do the same in this situation. He rolls over as the two warriors converse, limbs haphazard around them in an attempt to stay cool. He hums, turning his attention once more to the elder of the duo, and blinks at Rosemire. "I reckon you could balance on your hind legs longer than Lilacfur can."

​

 

[lilacfur]

A confident nod confirmed Rosemire's echo. Of course she would leave such an offer vague, she refused to keep her options limited! Knowing some of her Clanmates, they might find a 'skill' in something as silly as frog-hopping or trash-collecting, or in this case gaining a sunburn. There were no bounds to their oddities, but she loved it.

"If bragging right aren't enough, Rosemire, we can always barter like adults." Amber eyes squint in amusement at Mottlepaw. She missed sharing a den with him sometimes, the familiarity of their schedules as apprentices falling in line. Now they were lucky to share a patrol together. Hopefully they would pass their assessment to join her again.

"I think Mottlepaw's idea is... safer. It's simple enough for you to do, yeah?" Lilacfur giggled, holding her tongue between her teeth in her own amusement. "And since we've got far more to wager, if you win, I'll take the patrols you like the least."​

[ sad hello's and mad high low's ]​