camp drinking in the lights ✧ eating bugs

[wrenkit]

To any onlookers, it would appear as though Wrenkit had only recently learned how to communicate between mind and body, to have an idea of what they wanted to do and be able to tell their body how to do it. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen small flashes of white, orange, and brown worming through the gorse bush that adorned the top of the nursery. They weren't even particularly sure themself how they ended up in the bush. Limbs and tail flailed about as they tried getting themself out of the nursery on their own, accompanied by a harsh refusal of any help. When the amorphous colors finally emerged, however, it was not a newborn, nor even a kitten younger than a moon. Wrenkit was an entire three moons of age, and their ability to knock into everything and everyone, and barely have a grasp on where they existed in space, was almost impressive. What was even more impressive was how oblivious of it they were.

Wren finally appeared out of the nursery. They shook back and forth once or twice to return the fluff of their pelt, and carried on their way as though this dramatic entrance were an average occurrence. And with that, they could carry on their day.

They were going to... they had plans... and the plans were to...

Hm. Wren paused, the first look of frustration adorning their face. They were going to do something... but whatever it was had seemingly vanished entirely from their mind. They turned around, walking in small circles, looking back at the nursery, then back at the camp, then back at the nursery, then back at camp. Perhaps a visual cue would spark the idea back in their mind. But no, nothing. A small and unintentional growl escaped their throat, as if threatening their own brain. No amount of threats, however, brought the thoughts back to their mind. And so, with a great sigh, they plopped onto the ground beneath them, a puff of dust adding to the flair of drama required for this ruinous moment.

As if Starclan had heard their frustration, right as Wren flopped to the ground, a flicker crossed their path. right in front of their little snout was a creature. Small, skittery, segmented, and with many, many legs. A spider. All thoughts of the thoughts Wren had lost were gone, and now their mind was filled with adoration for this creature in front of them. They studied the spider, counting its legs, noting its color and the variations throughout it (it almost looked spotted, like Wren was), examining its size that was even smaller than their paws. The kit had discovered a sudden, new love. This thing was amazing. After every single detail had been taken in, there was only one detail left unknown. I wonder how it tastes...

Just as the spider started walking away, Wrenkit leapt up to all four paws, and lurched their face forward. With a crunch, they bit the spider, chewed and chewed and chewed, and finally swallowed. It was... different. Nothing like a mouse or a rabbit or a bird. There was much more of a crispy texture, and the taste was much less rich. But, if they were being honest with themself, it was kinda tasty.

And with that, a new question appeared in their mind: What about other bugs?

They'd gained recognition of one spider. But there were probably a whole bunch of kinds of spiders. And they probably all looked different and they probably all tasted different. So Wrenkit had discovered their plan for the day. Eat bugs. Lots of bugs. And the search began.

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• WRENKIT ✩ they/them, windclan, 3 moons
  ⭃ tabico. curious, self conscious, loud, and frequently hungry. npc x npc just a little guy.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by tuna ↛ @sertuna on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He's eaten a few bugs in his lifetime, though predominantly as a child, and perhaps unwittingly while devouring larger prey. He cannot remember exactly what he sampled in his youth, but he knows the taste has never been especially remarkable in any measure. Perhaps he would find other specimens much tastier, but in WindClan, he contents himself with what prey is available, and rarely does he eat for enjoyment, or find pleasure in the process; his favored meal is the staple of RiverClan, after all, and not readily available here.

That may change with Sunstar's latest encouragement. For now, however, there is less freshkill to go around, the moors still recovering from the flames that licked open deep wounds. He does not think it is their suffering prey-source that drives Wrenkit to close their kitten-maw over a spider, though.

"A successful hunt," he says with a touch of warm amusement, as much as he can muster. "Do you mean to find more? Too many may make you sick."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

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[FEATHERSPINE]

WindClan were hungry, yes, but Featherspine believed truly he would rather shrivel from starvation than ever put a bug in his mouth. He barely wanted to get near them with his paws, let alone his tongue, sensitive and used to the delicasies of rabits. Those- those hairy legs, drumming against her teeth... no. No, no, absolutely not. Horrendous, he couldn't think of anything worse. To Featherspine's surprise, though, when yellow eyes darted to Wolfsong, she saw no mirrored disdain in his single eye. Though they were kin... he was consistently kinder than her, she had to remember.

"You're not a b-b-buh... bird," she barked at the kit, shaking her head. Wolfsong's warning had been more gentle, but Featherspine was not offering the same luxury. A surprise to no-one, she was sure. "Though you seem to have the b-brain of one." Most kittens did. It wasn't particularly abnormal, she supposed... but still, bugs were not very WindClan like. it seemed the sort of slimy delicacy ShadowClan might enjoy... maggots, and the like. Oh, he'd rather die.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Like Featherspine, Celandinepaw couldn't fathom holding a bug in her paws, let alone putting one in her mouth! With spindly legs and soulless eyes, the reptant things evaded even the most deft of hands, as though they were born and melded of the shadow itself. Large spiders of cobweb weavings often seeped into the corners of the barn, sinking their bodies into damp and gloomy areas. The moorlands seemed not to have as many creepy-crawlies as the cramped Horseplace, of which Celandine counted her blessings for, but it seemed inevitable that the arachnids and insects would not find a home within crevices and maws of nests and vertices. "Ewww." Celandinepaw could hardly hide the disgust upon her plain tongue, like serpentine lines vermiculating within her words, the sort of sentiment the peppy molly tended not to outwardly express. With wheat-tinged eyes, the apprentice had seen Wrenkit pounce on the spider like it was a bird or a mouse. What got her the most was that Wrenkit seemed to enjoy it, or at least not dole out any sign of aversion. "What's so tasty about bugs, anyhow? They've got no meat. It's probably all bone, or shell, or whatever bugs are made of." The spotted tabby chuckled, verses now emanating an aura of amusement, for she knew the littlest kin must be provided the most grace. They did strange things, and even she was guilty of it. Perhaps the little calico kitten would grow out of it... Perhaps not.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
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  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 10 Moons
  —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[kitecall.]

speaking color is #BBE8EF​

➾ KITEPAW. AND HOW CAN WE WIN WHEN FOOLS CAN BE KINGS? † ☼
𖤓 ✟ —— kitepaw hadn't noticed wrenkit's hunt, but the child does grab his attention as they continue their hunt throughout camp. with the growing group of onlookers gawking and gagging, it's not difficult for the tomcat to piece together what was causing such a stir. "i can't fathom that they're very good," kitepaw says, wrinkling his nose in disdain as he works himself into the conversation. sure, the apprentice had once too been a child. he's chased his fair share of bugs around, and even now and again he'd feel his paws tugging at him with an unknown longing to swat at a passing moth or perhaps a fly that buzzed at his ears. a hunt was a hunt, even if it didn't yield any sort of fruit in its finality. it kept his paws busy as well as his mind, and he couldn't hope for a lot more than that on lazy days where there was nothing else to do. squeamish wasn't the word to describe him, but he'd never gone as far as to put them in his mouth and eat his catch. sometimes he'd crush them underfoot when they bugged him, sometimes he'd let them go and watch them fly back into the air, dizzy and dazed by what they have just experienced…. but never had he the thought to put them in his mouth. kitepaw feels himself cough and drool fouly at the thought of it alone, but if wrenkit had an appetite, than who was he to care? "perhaps we should send them to the elders den. wolfsong, will ticks make them ill?" it was essentially an all you could eat buffet for such a young kit… was it that bad of an idea to kill two birds with one stone?

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• KITEPAW ✩ he/him, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 7.5 moons old
  ⭃ average sized tomcat with light cream tabby markings. he has a white chest and half face. his fur is a medium length and he has large whiskers. his eyes are a light blue.
  ⭃ highly religious, stubborn and hard-working, kindhearted and charismatic, honest, diligent, foolish and impulsive when frustrated, will speak out when something feels unjust.
  ⭃ open to minor and minor nonviolent powerplay / / underline and tag when attacking ⇌ see his bio here
  ⭃ penned by @DOFFERZ! ⇌ doffloppa on discord, feel free to dm for plots. template credit to vayle.
  
  
  
  
  

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