drying out like a histamine | unconventional spa day


"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
The past sunrises had been a muddle, shades of the sun spent repairing camp and recounting each occurrence to those on the twoleg patrol. Now, the activity had simmered to its usual levels- hunting patrols, training sessions and the like. That morning, Daisyflight had awoken with a plan. While grooming beneath the thin rays of the moon the previous evening, the molly had thought on one of the many teachings her old alley-cat cohorts had granted her. One particularly elderly tom, recognisable by ear from his crackled tone and heaving coughs, often spoke of the benefits of sitting beside the thunderpath. He had denoted the practice to be the very reason he could still speak with his ailing throat, attributing the fumes the monsters left behind to be the cause.

After dropping off her most recent catch onto the preypile, a larger than typical vole, she executed her scheme. Soft-spoken invitations were given to a few cats, the calico seeking out those who fought alongside her against the dogs in particular. A way to show her appreciation, Daisyflight concluded. However, not wanting any to miss out, she made a curt announcement before leaving. "I will be taking a select few on a little rejuvenating trip. Any who wish to come along, please do. I hope it can provide a little relaxation."

Pleased, she began the walk to the desired location. The forest felt much safer with Blaze's patrol back in camp and dogs scared off. Pine branches bled their shadowy fingertips along each other's trunks, a shuffling march against the coming leafbare winds. Soon the thrum of the thunderpath made itself known. Looking back at those following, Daisyflight sucked in an obvious breath. "Be sure to take in a good lungful of forest air before we continue. Perhaps it will make this exercise all the more effective."

Once assured that they had followed her advice, she sprang up the rise and towards the boxy hedgerow beyond. Dipping her head beneath the evergreen undergrowth in a decorous movement, Daisyflight led the group to be beside the charred strip. Her chosen spot along the thunderpath had a buffer of grass before the monster's wrath, a comfortable- to her- distance.

Immediately, their noses were smothered with the acrid scent of running motors. It stung the throat, a rush of discomfort meeting each breath. One monster rattled past, setting the air aflame with the cleansing aroma. Only her pelt was ruffled by its passing, the molly sitting demurely atop the ashen grass. "Well- hch- here we are! You can feel it working can't you? The fumes are best for clearing the throat and lungs, the perfect way to revitalise the system."

/ >;) tagging those who showed interest but all are welcome ! @~Deersong~ @HUCKLEBERRY @BAGUETTE. @DAWNGLARE
(this is just a goofy thread- realistic reactions to the thunderpath are totally fine but no monster related injuries please)
 
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Horribly pretentious. Awfully annoying. Terribly irritating, the words grate through his ears. But wasn't that simply Daisyflight? Skyclan's very own deputy, rejoice in the decisions of dearest Blaise, cloud-headed fool, may thunder strike him where he stands to atone for this transgression.

Ruefully, spitefully, he finds himself trailing after the queen. He does his absolute best to take in all she has to offer, if only to criticize her for it later. It's shockingly difficult to make out the words from the mumblings of her jaw. Up until now, he's been trained to blue them, shred them into little more than fuzzy-cut dreams within his head. It's difficult to unlearn, but not quite impossible, not yet. Get a lungful of that forest air, she says, and he wants to shred her until her lungs no longer hold that capacity. Besides, ever since the gathering, he swears all there was is are smog and embers. Just what was she getting at?

And just then, a scent just as wretched breaches his lungs, thunderpath, the scent that still clung to Blaise's pelt like a stubborn tick. Ugly and rotten, and yet she breathed it in like some sort of cleansing miasma, healing vapor in the air. Oh, suddenly things make sense. The smog has infected her poor brain; rotted it into a dull, sickly sort of thing. He smiles, malignant. "Is that why you sound like that?"

[ oh god,,, the fumes turned her British ]
 
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( ) when daisyflight approached the handful of them suggesting they take trip somewhere to wind down, he did not expect to be taken to the thunderpath where the permanent acidic and burnt scent hung thick and suffocating. huckleberry crinkled his muzzle a bit, giving a confused glance at those who also decided to tag along before looking over at the deputy who appeared to bathe in the toxic fumes speaking about it being cleansing.

the passing of a monster causes the tom to tense subtly, pressing slightly against a nearby companion. sure they stood at a safe enough distance from the asphalt but what would happen if one of the monsters decided to swerve off their path and swallow them up under those smooth black paws?

"daisyflight, sugar, i respect ya but i don' think this is what anyone had in mind when ya said this was gunna be a relaxin' trip. . ."
( i hear the wandering streams and the song of the birds )
 

A soulmate who wasn't meant to be

Deersong had been pleasantly surprised when Daisyflight invited her personally to this little outing. The cream and mocha molly had followed the deputy and the rest of the group, though lagging behind slightly as she got distracted by the pretty leaves that were beginning to change colors, the funny crunch that happened underfoot when she stepped on one that had fallen.

She would giggle softly as her aqua eyes fixed onto a currently falling leaf and crouched, giving her hind a little wiggle before leaping and grasping the leaf in her paws before returning to the ground. It was beautiful, half green and half orange as the tree had released it halfway through its metamorphosis. Looking back towards the group, she would blink in amusement as she realized that they were well ahead of her, so she would place the leaf stem in her jaw before walking after them once more, her pawsteps as unhurried as usual.

Once she reached the group, her nose would wrinkle at the rank stench of the thunderpath, but her whiskers would twitch in laughter as Daisyflight did their best to appear as though she was not bothered by it. She would brush past Huckleberry and lightly smile at both him and Dawnglare before offering the leaf to their deputy, as a gift.


"Now now, let's not be Trippin'. Let's just chillax and enjoy the time together." Her whimsical half-lidded gaze would blink slowly in reassurance before turning and walking back over to Huckleberry, plopping down onto the grass beside him and set to work picking some of the longer grasses to make a bracelet of sorts.
 

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
Dawnglare's remarks fell upon her ears like water down a duck's back, rinsed from her conscience the instant they were spoken. That tom rarely spat more than ashes. Huckleberry's reproachful words brought her pause however, the warrior being one Daisyflight listened to often. "You don't like it? It's good for you..." A timidity was brushed across her, ears tipped back in a subtle show of affront. With both toms marking the occasion with distaste, her confidence dwindled. She knew the practice might be less common in the forest folk, but surely it wasn't so bad?

Perhaps it was the thunderpath- Daisyflight might be nonchalant around the roaring pathways, but others weren't. Taking another sweeping breath, as that might calm the heat behind her ears, the molly glanced up the sky-topped tunnel the monsters flew down. Too many nights spent sleeping beneath their still shapes had stripped her of any fear.

"An old tom, Otto, told me about this wellness tip. He lived to a good age, better than most." Between the passing scorch, a pendulum of noise that rang in and out of their ears, she narrated the origin of the practice. Those little mutters of advice had been a treasure in her youngest moons when she lacked the teaching of her parents. It was the only way she had survived.
 
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( ) the shift in their deputies composure after his small feedback had the warrior worrying a lip between teeth, a prickling of guilt crawling underneath black smoke fur. oh, it wasn't that he didn't enjoy the practice, i mean, it was nice being with everyone like this but he just didn't expect their activity to be sitting and bathing in their acidic fumes of the thunderpath. huckleberry shifted a bit in his spot, deciding to settle down onto his stomach besides the mocha molly who joined him earlier who braided the strands of grass.

"well, it's nice ya carried on his tradition. 'm just wonderin' if it's uh, tha best thing to be clearin' our lungs wit the smog?" he mews out, voice coming out a bit more softer when speaking towards the calico. he'd feel much too bad trying to sway the other from trying to change what she's known but the tom knows this probably isn't the greatest thing for them, hell, one of 'em might even get sick.

if that happend, dawnglare, bless whatever it is occupying that strange little man, would probably just look at you and say "good luck" before walking off.


( i hear the wandering streams and the song of the birds )