pafp DON'T THINK, JUST GO (leg stuck in log)

[MUDPELT]

// please wait for @CLAYFUR to respond before posting! Also tagging apprentice @FERNPAW


Gosh, he hates leaf-bare! His horribly short pelt is just not cut out for the cold season, and he's reminded of it as he shakes and shivers on patrol. The group is padding alongside the river, heading towards a bountiful fishing spot as Mudpelt chatters on through chittering teeth. "The best gift I've ever gotten was from my son here! Gave me a rock that looks like me. I keep it right in my nest!" He casts a grin and a wink towards the tiny ginger tabby behind him. He cherishes moments like those.

He turns his attention towards his mate's brother who padded along next to him. As the massive tom leaps up idly onto a log, grinning jaws trill, "What about you, Clayf- WHOA!"

CRACK.

A large brown hind paw plummets through a hole in the fallen trunk. A yowl of surprise escapes the warrior as he grips the bark with his remaining claws. Stuck. He's stuck.​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Clayfur is for once a bit glad for his scruffy pelt; when the cold bites, at least it’s dulled a bit by his fur. He isn’t comfortable by any stretch of the word, but at least he isn’t speaking through chattering teeth. Mudpelt looks like he should be miserable, but he’s a resilient tom and Clayfur has to respect him for that.

He’s listening to the chocolate-furred tom ramble about the gift that Fernpaw gave him, a rock left in his nest. Clay’s tail flicks happily, and he chirps out a laugh along with the story. "That’s so sweet, giving your dad a gift like that!" He mirrors Mudpelt’s look back to Fernpaw, grinning practically ear to ear. It’s hard to feel like an outsider when his family is, like, the best to ever exist.

Caught up in his smiling at the ginger apprentice, Clayfur doesn’t realize Mudpelt’s predicament right away. He’s about to respond to the stumpy-tailed tom’s question when he looks over to the other warrior—why has he suddenly stopped talking?—and Mudpelt isn’t walking beside him anymore. Clay stops in his tracks, eyes flying wide with panic. "Mudpelt! Don’t die, oh my stars!" He rushes to the other tom’s side, shifting from paw to paw. What do I do? Uhhh… "Fernpaw, uhh, help?" He paws at the log beside Mudpelt’s leg, hoping to… he doesn’t know. How is he supposed to help? It’s like the log is eating Mudpelt’s leg! "Can you move your leg?"
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[WASPRATTLE.]

Lingering form at the head of it all, it does not... seem appropriate for him to comment. Not without careful thinking, the question lying heavy on his tongue. He isn't judgemental, far from it. But his presence being so new... it very well could seem like it. His lips part with an air of hesitation. Nothing, though, he would like to figure out how exactly a rock could resemble a living thing. In the end, his lips mash together in accepted silence. The topic has already progressed, and...

Sudden scare. A splintering sound and a shout. He turns to see a leg swallowed in a log and a face stretched in panic. Clayfur looks lost, and frankly, so is he. Paws rooted in place, he watches with a slight curl of his lip and eyes narrowed (– meaner look than he means–) Genuine, a confused blink at the toms outburst. "He's dying?" Unlikely, but, to be sure–

ooc translations

• obligatory @CICADASTAR tag awoo awoo
  
• 
  

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[Minnowpaw]

( ♬ ) Minnowpaw had been following behind the fishing patrol in her usual silence. The silver somali looked out over the slowly freezing river with a distant expression on her face. She isn't tuned into the conversation the family is having. But she did feel a tad bit of envy over how doting the father and uncle seemed to be over Fernpaw.

Minnow was in the middle of her thoughts when Mudpelts yelped and the sound of breaking wood would cause the apprentice to nearly jump out of her skin, fur fluffed out and her eyes widened before she saw what had happened. She blinked for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm herself before slowly walking over and meowing in a voice that was barely audible, "C...Can't you just....pull him out...by his...s-scruff?..."

Her ears would flatten against her head as she took a seat nearby, on the off chance that they asked for her help in this situation. ​

( BUT I WATCH YOUR EYES AS SHE; WALKS BY )

 

[Cricketpaw]

His steps were heavy, plodding, nowhere near as graceful as Minnowpaw's but he followed along after her with enthusiasm and with his best attempts to not look like a stumbling oaf; of which he failed considerably. When she broke away to go investigate the yelp he followed then too, though he didn't flinch or give a jolt when it sounded; when you had as many brothers as he did you often learned to tune out sharp noises at times. Maybe that was a bad thing.
His gasoline blue gaze drifted from Rattling Wasp (new guy, very weird, had a funny accent and too much leg) and Clayfur (old soul, mudpelt's brother? put things in his mouth he wasn't supposed to which sounded like a fun game if you asked him) and he wondered why the two older cats were just sort of watching. The sleek somali next to him offered a pretty good suggestion so he added one of his own as well....

"If you...if you need someone to uh-gnaw his leg off....to save his life. I'll do it. My sister says I got a big mouth so I can manage." He was pretty sure that's what she meant by that, but it was hard to tell with Applestem sometimes. Regardless, Cricketpaw was happy to offer his services even if they were a little morbid. He'd never bit another cat before, he hoped he didn't taste good. That would be a whole 'nother problem to deal with.


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[FERNGILL]

Fernpaw was greatly enjoying the familial praise- he remembered how happy Mudpelt had been at the gift, and to this day the tiny tom stood by the fact that he had essentially found a mirror of his father, Mudpelt illustrated in the medium of rock. The jovial air, even frayed by some silent warriors and apprentices, was soon shattered- just like the log his dad's foot had just gone plummeting through! It was a loud crack, like thunder breaking the sky- Fernpaw yelped. And as Clayfur looked to him- him!- for aid, all that he could do was stand wide-eyes and stiff, contemplation dropping from his maw like water. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

Dying- gnawing his leg off- no, surely that wasn't necessary! And pulling him out by his scruff- Dad was massive, they couldn't do that! The minuscule apprentice shot them all an incredulous look, his pond water orbs of eyes flung as wide and worried as they had ever been. "No, no!! He broke the log, right, so what if we make the- what if we break it more, and-" His voice wavered with worry, words tumbling from his tiny maw a mile a minute.​

( penned by pin )​

 

[MUDPELT]

Mudpelt grunts, trying to get a better grip on the log with his other remaining paws. With his claws sinking into the rotting bark, he attempts to wiggle his leg around. "I- I think so," He mews uncertainly, but he's unable to get it loose. That Wasp guy is nearby, and he asks if he's dying. The already panicked tom swings his head around towards him, wide-eyed and shouts, "No, I'm not dying!" He pauses. Am I?! Minnowpaw, the softspoken thing that she is, whispers a suggestion. He'd love if they could try! But...well, he towers over most cats; he's not sure how they would be able to pluck him up by the scruff. If he were a kit, sure, but-

If you...if you need someone to uh-gnaw his leg off....to save his life. I'll do it.

"Woah! Okay kid, stay away with whatever big chompers you got! No leg is being gnawed off!" He yowls in a panic, gaze now stretched even wider. He looks wildly over at his son, who suggests breaking the log, and nods ferociously. Yes, yes breaking it is way better than gnawing legs off! "Yeah! Yeah, do that! Just get my leg outta here!" ​