camp eating sand

Sep 11, 2022
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➵ There's an explanation for this. A reasonable explanation.

The camp is bathed in a soft pink sunset, the day's work done, and Clearsight finds himself enjoying a plump fish dinner. Though newleaf is upon them, many of RiverClan's warriors still look (and feel) like drowned rats after the harsh, wet winter, all skin and bones and scraggly fur and exhaustion. Lots of exhaustion. Consistent access to food still feels like a novelty, so still they work to the bone for whatever they can catch. Some more than others, maybe.

And maybe Clearsight's a little further toward the exhausted end of the spectrum than he normally is, having picked up an extra patrol this afternoon instead of the nap he really needed. Flaxen eyes dull and distant, fighting back a yawn, he leans down to take another bite of his salmon, and, uh ... he misses.

He completely misses. He gets a mouthful of sand. Worse than that he actually chews for a few seconds before awareness hits him hard enough to stop.

What the fuck...?

That isn't salmon.

He opens his mouth. Sand falls out. He stares down at the sand. The sand that was just in his mouth.

"That's terrible," he murmurs, thinking suddenly, obviously, of Clayfur. "There ... were no upsides to that at all." He's not sure if he expected there to be upsides, but Clayfur does it often enough that — well — well. Frowning, Clearsight leans down and licks the sand again, just to be sure. Yes ... definitely terrible.

... uh, he hopes no one saw that.

& we've all got battle scars ✗
 
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Oh, dear. It seems the sand-eater’s mate has taken on his vices as well.

Dusky blue tresses hang heavy with water, bogging down their every movement as they pick their way over to Clearsight. From across camp, they’d spotted him and considered joining him to eat—now, they only join him to mock him. Confusion, disgust, and amusement dance together in Swampwater’s head, unsure of what exactly the best response to this situation is.

Sunspot eyes, heavy-lidded as they are, show no trace of fondness for his clanmate. It is there, of course, but buried deep beneath crusted layers of judgement. He settles onto water-soaked haunches beside Clearsight, straight-backed even as he regards the other tom with questioning eyes.

"Now, what was the point’a that?" The question is laden with judgement—practically dripping with it. Is there anyone in this clan who does not eat the sand they walk upon?
[ BURN THE WOODS ! ]
 

(=^・ェ・^=))ノ彡♡ ”Oh! Blegh!” Darterwing exclaims upon witnessing Clearsight’s accident. Darterwing has never intentionally ate sand before but after a tumble it had certainly managed to get into her mouth before. She can just feel the gritty texture and the unnerving crunch it made against your teeth. Oh… it was just horrible, her lips shrivel into a frown and she sticks her tongue out as if to spit imaginary sand out. Seems like she was real sympathetic right now to what the warrior was experiencing.

Her black fur sways in a slight breeze, she finds herself next to the dark furred Swampwater, ”Good stars darling… should I fetch some wet moss, Clearsight? If you don’t drink you’ll be feeling bits of sand on your mouth from now till moon-high.”
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