Dig up the garden, darling? | bugs


[ Tw: Bug/Spider mentions. ]

Go fetch some cobwebs for Dawnglare, be sure to avoid bringing any bugs in accidentally.
Go fetch some cobwebs for Dawnglare, be sure to avoid any bugs.
Go fetch some cobwebs for Dawnglare, be sure....bugs....
Go fetch cobwebs, bring bugs.
Dawnglare.


Somewhere along the way in his idle lucid daydreaming he had forgotten what exactly his task had been or maybe he did remember it and this was a job taken out of spite and vitriol toward a cat he deemed irredeemably bothersome and not worth his time; or maybe he was just stupid. Could be that last one, who knew. With Snowpaw there was a high chance the inner workings of his mind that lead him to certain decisions were formulated entirely based on some intrinsic understanding of the world in a way his clanmates did not comprehend or he was just being a bastard child.
There was a high chance he was being a bastard child, he hadn't wanted to do this but when an older cat requested that you put forth effort to a task you did not say no. Saying no would get him nowhere, maliciously complying to the best of his abilities had much better options for him in the long run. He would fetch the cobwebs, he would even wind them up neatly and tuck them away; he was not so absentminded as to forget the key important item this exploration had been the source of. Did the knight leave the gold upon slaying the dragon? As he continue careully rolling his silken treasures he spotted that one still had a single occupant and he hastily finished rolling his paws to spin the brittle twine into a bundle to investigate.

It was called a spider, he remembered. This one, though he did not know, was often referred to as a banana spider given its bright yellow coloring but he neither knew this nor what a banana even was. To him it was the color of sun-dipped sky, sunflowers bowing their heads, the golden clasps of kittypet collars.

A paw extended out, neatly nudging the webbing beneath the arachnid and he pushed it up to gently goad the spider into crawling onto the offered limb; once it had done so he tucked it close to examine it with narrowed mirthful golden eyes; recalling the strange creature similar he had seen as a kitten with his mother and Batshriek. Its long legs lightly tapped along his fur, almost tickling, as it lazily scooted in place as if stretching. Snowpaw wasted no time in maneuvering the spider to his back where it tried to his itself in the ruff of his thick neck fur. The rest of the insects his paws kicked up and sent scattering were given less quarter, less mercy, and he pawed and slapped them into obedience; rolling beetles and carapaces into long dock leaves to make wriggling green sacks; viciously gift-wrapped.
With his actual task done and his sidequest complete, the hero prepared to make his return journey home. His swords sheathed back into the scabbard of his paws, his pack carefully swaddled in his woe begotten gains-ever stalward he would march forth, mouth burdened and silent by the rolls of webbing sticking tacky to his tongue and the bitterness of leaves just barely hanging from his jaws with weighty occupants.

Snowpaw feared he may drop something if he dawdled much longer, so the moment his pale paws touched the edge of camp he was hurtling briskly forward to the medicine cat's lair and unceremoniously depositing his collection on the floor right at the mouth of the den without so much as a warning or word. Beetles, bugs, spiders, insectoids of multiple colors and shapes all went scattering, scurrying and shuffling about like water droplets spilling across stone in every direction. He watched with an almost giddy delight as they swarmed to corners and clambered up walls.

"Brought you cobwebs, my dude...and some friends." Cause StarClan knew the man didn't have any.

@DAWNGLARE - Not pafp though.

 
His day had been fine, truly.

The sun shined overhead, growing brisker by the day, but not yet unbearable. Those who typically milled around him were less than nusances today. They stick to their own devices, perhaps taking advantage of the sun's warmth while they still had it. He didn't find his mood shifting in any one such way, really. Perhaps you could describe him as content, for once in his life.

And then—

Dreaded beasts. Creepy-crawlies. Shadowy figures. Things of nightmares. Creatures from the depths. Void-crawlers. Skinwalkers. Demons with too many legs, delivered straight to his den by a messenger of all things unholy. His heart stops, his mind draws a blank, the tranquility that had flowed off his back in a watery sheet wipped up into a full-on storm, a torrent of disaster, anger, fear, panic. A thousand little bells ring in his mind—grime, filth, danger, danger, danger. His jaw clenches tight, bile rises hot in his throat, forced out alongside the pending fight or flight response processing in his body.

"Get them a-WAY FROM ME—" he shrieks in a sudden boom of voice. A paw surges forward in a flurry of frantic swipes, but oh, stars forbid he makes contact. A thick, black, plague would surely surge into him in an instant, seep past fur and sink into skin, infect his very insides, his blood, leave him sick and aching, dying without so much as another word, without another glance into silverbell eyes. No, he can't touch them—

Giving up in a matter of moments, Dawnglare skitters backward with speed never once before achieved in his lifetime. They're surrounding him, there's nowhere— he can't— he— She told him, shetoldhim. Daisyflight did this, commanded her devil of a child to wreak havoc upon him. He swears vengeance on her then and there. To hell with what Blaise said, when the moon reached its peak, when he was free of his curse, she would lie gutted at his paws. Paws. Pawspawspaws— there's a spider on his paw.

He bursts into tears then and there, limbs become nothing but a slurry of white static in his attempt to free himself from its grasp. It doesn't— it doesn't— it doesn't—

He collapses, like a figure blown over by the wind. Nothing about it is natural, he falls gracelessly, resigned to his fate. His jaw lies open in a silent scream. If he was the first medicine cat to die, so be it. Mercy upon his weary soul.
 

Your sins weigh upon your soul.

Jackal had come to check in on Sprout since she was still resting and healing, getting better but... Snowpaw, which was quite an odd name had come back holding some gifts for the medicine cats, bugs, whisker twitching he watched the not really there in the head of a medicine cat shriek and dramatically fall onto the ground which, made Jackal roll his eyes, this cat was really one for the dramatics and he worries that he made the wrong decision to bring the kit here.

"I'll help get them out, you're fine uh... Dawnsomething... Snowpaw? Was it? Help with the bugs" an apathetic look on the tom's face as he began to work on catching Snowpaw's little friends on the ground that skittered away frantically trying to make themselves at home in the den but, he did not want this crawlies finding themselves in the nest of his little friend, worrying that maybe one of these small things could be poisonous and he was not going to risk such a thing. Fluffy tail swishing slightly as copper eyes darkened slightly, he did not really feel bad for Dawnglare's panic but he wondered where in the world Snowpaw got the idea to bring in these creatures in the first place but, it was kind of amusing, he will not admit it but he silently did find it amusing that the other would pull such a move.
"speak""Thoughts"
 

Well, it didn't take much to hear the shrieks erupt from the medicine cats den. All you had to do was be within a 100 fox-length radious and you were good.

So in comes little Figpaw, poking her head right into the medicine cat. She doesn't even try to hide the fact she' being nosy. While some may try to remain polite by hiding at the walls of the medicine cat's den to eavesdrop on the commotion, the marmalade tabby placed herself right in the middle of the scene. She finds the medicine cat sprawled out on the ground, a petrified look fixated on a ghost as if he had saw a ghost and- well Figpaw is pretty sure he has before, so it shouldn't bother him.

Snowpaw was here too... and he seemed okay? Didn't seem like he was hurt. It took her a second... until she at last realizes all the creepy crawlies crawling around everywhere. Was that what was wrong? Figpaw knew some cats didn't like insects, Figpaw herself didn't mind them... but some of them were down right ugly and disgusting. She wouldn't mind playing terminator for Dawnglare!

With one quick glance to ensure Butterflypaw was not around to witness what she was about to do, Figpaw giggles and fully enters the den and starts to get to work. Her tiny paws stomp around, squishing all the bugs she could find in her path. Their shriveled up and smooshed bodies were smeared in the ground like berry juice, bug wings and limbs became detached and could be viewed scattered over the ground. Figpaw surely doesn't get all of them, but with joy she eliminates several and... maybe eats one.

One of them just looked really yummy, okay?

//was ninja'd but i dont think my post conflicts anything too bad so im posting anyway!
 
  • Crying
Reactions: Floppie

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
If someone had sat her down that sunrise and told her that she'd be granted prime viewing of Dawnglare crying- well, she would have scoffed. It was a privilege she might even have paid to guarantee. However, stood there at that moment, Daisyflight buzzed with an unsettling sympathy. His, weeping, was sand beneath her paws, a chill wind between her ears. It was uncomfortable to witness. Emerging from the edges of the clearing, the deputy was transfixed on the rattling ink that spilt from her son's clutches, a many-layered look of disgust painted across her face.

The second one of the skittering horrors touched the arch of a den, she stumbled into action. "Children-" Sharp and panicked, her words were indiscriminate. "Why, why... why- are there insects crawling around our delightful camp?" Oh how she loathed the way their glassy bodies stuttered under the direction of Jackal and crunched beneath Figpaw's battering. "When did I raise such uncouth creatures..." Spoken aloud as a joke, the comment fell with more truth than she intended. Her son, the wielder of the problem, and her daughter, the devourer, both in stride with one another in the chaos. At least Figpaw was beginning to dispose of the mess.

Daisyflight cringed back slightly, shimmying to come alongside their medicine cat. Without hesitation a hurried swipe dispatched the closest spider, batting it away from the mahogany tom. He was a foul-spoken wretch, aligning himself with voiceless spirits, but well- he was crying. A little hiss of irritation burnt from her, sparked in parallel with the dramatic flare of her tail. Too many moons spent in the nursery, tuned to the trill of fickle woes, had taught her to respond kindly to the noise.

And so like an exaggerated broom, Daisyflight brandished her tail in a curled motion. The creepy crawlies were spurned from the pair, swept away in a wave of frail carapaces. "I share in your despair but-" A request for aid fizzled from her tongue as she considered Dawnglare's likely opinion of her. There was no point. The touch of tiny, grasping legs on her pelt piqued the flush of frustration in her lungs. Grumbling, the calico could only continue the fight against Snowpaw's uninvited guests alone.
 
Wails from the direction of Dawnglare's lair stirs the young girl from her relaxation. She would assume that Dawnglare's offensive presence had driven another to tears, if it had not been for the voice of another trying to comfort Dawnglare.

Oh.

So Dawnglare was the one crying?

Huh. Must suck to be him, bawling like a kit who was grounded by their mother for everyone to see and hear.

She couldn't say that she cares much, honestly. Dawnglare is a wicked creature. She could say, however, that she's curious as to what set him off...

It's not like she could see the insects crawling about the medicine den's entrance, but her mother's question fills her in on the context. "Insects?" Violetpaw echoes as she pads closer towards her mother's voice, her snout scrunching up ever so slightly as a paw finds a stray insect. It crunches beneath her weight, and she takes a moment to briefly wipe gross bug insides off on the ground.

From somewhere inside the den, she hears Figpaw giggling and paws smacking against the ground. Violetpaw has a decent guess as to what her rambunctious sister was doing. (She did not foresee that her sister would eat a bug, however.)

As her fur brushes against her mother's, Violetpaw looks towards the pathetic whimpers of Dawnglare. "Grown-ups aren't supposed to cry."
 
𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒

The shriek of the medicine cat would cause the normally unhurried she-cat to hurry towards the healers' den with a look of concern on her maw. Spotting the growing crowd, and her own apprentice among them, she would open her maw to ask her deputy what was wrong when one of the gifted bugs scurried past her as it tried to run away from the area.

Bugs? Deersong wasn't really fond of them but she did find it quite funny that Dawnglare had cried over such small creatures but she would walk over to Snowpaw and lightly touch his head with her nose, "Gather your friends, Snowpaw. I'll help you take them back out of camp where they belong."

She would look to the medicine cat then and meow gently, "No need to freak out, brotha'." Her coo would be sympathetic as she batted another bug away with her half-tail, "I'm sure these little dudes are way more scare of you than you are of them." Deersong would hear Violetpaws' statement and she would purr warmly, "All cats cry, no matter the age, ya dig? Nothing to be ashamed of if you don't like bugs."

 
I won't apologize for being who I am
It was the initial ear splitting shriek that caused the cream spotted tabby to shoot to his paws. Wide mint green eyes panned immediately in the direction of the medicine cat den and despite the eerie cry, Coyote is compelled to investigate. Quickly he lopes over, ears semi flattened as he encroaches, drawing ever closer. He slows his pace and gingerly steps into the mouth of the entrance to witness what could be described as a chaotic circus. "What the..." Coyote's gaze pings from one cat to the other, taking in the disorder and turmoil unfolding. Dawnglare lay upon the ground, sprawled out in the most dramatic way possible while bawling his eyes out. Figpaw was grinning from ear to ear, giddily squishing whatever bug she could. Daisyflight was hissing and swatting at the critters as if her life depended on it. Jackal assisted some of the vermin out of the den; while Snowpaw...just sat there as if basking in the anarchy breaking loose. It was a miracle the den wasn't completely trashed by now.

"And they think windclan is crazy...?" The young tom thinks passively, allowing a small frown to decorate his maw. Looking in the direction of the infested wad of insects, various leaves, and cobwebs, Coyotekit used a single paw to bat at the ball of webbing. Carefully he knocked it outside of the den where the remainder of the bugs could trickle out and away from Dawnglare's lair. It would be easier to get rid of the source otherwise the onslaught would seem never ending. His expression then toed the line of disgust as he looked over at Snowpaw. "Dude....you actually carried this in your mouth? What if one of the bugs had gone up your nose or something?" He asked while shooing a stray beetle out.
Tryna throw shade on me say a lot 'bout you