escargo | snail eating

[Needledrift]

It is difficult to maintain a healthy weight and physique when one's jaw is permanently damaged, of this Needledrift has been a prime example. Her little frame, once almost round and fluffy, has turned to something almost... skeletal... in comparison. On her best days, she looks half a corpse. It is a problem, a real problem, to be as scrawny as she is when there are other mouths to feed. A warrior cannot provide for their clan if they are not up to par.

She has options. She has always had options. Cats like Heavybranch and Roosterstrut have never shied away from helping her eat, drink, or groom. There were herbs that she had been given - ground up and mixed with water and dripped down her throat - that recovered her strength after the incident - but they would never be the same as hunting and catching your own food for sustenance... but when you only could use your paws, you had to be creative.

Slime coats each digit of her right foot, freshly oozed from the snails she had just crushed. It was a pitiful snack, but one that the blue she-cat could at least make into her mouth by herself. She swiped her tongue across her paw, lapping as best she could and twirling her tongue back to bring the slime to swallow. It was a tremendous amount of effort to maneuver her body to accommodate both the teeny amount of strange food and the unnatural position of her tongue, but she was doing it all by herself.

The thought alone made her want to break out in a grin, if only she could.​

she smells like lemongrass and sleep​

 

[smogstar]

There are those in ShadowClan whose prowess is undermined by functional impairments. One might deem it tasteless to view these individuals as burdens, impeding on the clan's welfare because of limitations that lay beyond their own control. This is a perspective the deputy subscribes to as well, if only to a partial extent. While he cannot deny Forestshade's hunting capabilities, nor Heavybranch's knack for keeping the young ones entertained, hell itself would have to freeze over before Smogmaw trusted either of them to defend the clan's security in battle. Nevertheless, so long as the fresh-kill pile remained abundant and the kits were kept far away from his affairs, the tom was content to coexist with these clanmates, regardless of their personal hindrances.

In a pattern similar to her before-mentioned clanmates, Needledrift faced her own set of challenges on account of an impairment. Rather than being blind or outrageously senile, a condition that Smogmaw failed to understand had rendered her maw inoperable. Being robbed of speaking, biting, and eating facilities is a vexing reality he could not properly fathom, yet he lauds the she-cat's resilience and resourcefulness in spite of it all. That she could survive the past Leaf-bare without succumbing to starvation was a testament to this.

Smogmaw glimpses the she-cat's ashen coat as he bounds across the earth nearby. His gait would pause for the moment, and as he comes to a halt, his line of vision hones in on the gunge held in her paws. Deadpan eyes watch on as she laps at the ooze, though they soon drift to the shards of snail shells littering the soil below.

"Quite crafty, that," remarks the deputy, who draws near on sluggish paws. He stops in his tracks a fox-length away, casting his stony gaze upon the warrior. "Can't say I'd ever think of crushing up snails, Needledrift," he says, "but it seems to do the trick for you."

His rear plants into the ground, and Smogmaw settles himself comfortably, tail twirled over his front paws. A couple of absent-minded licks to his chest tufts were given before he speaks a final time. "Should try frog's eggs sometime," mentions the tom with a sharp exhale, "they're just as oozy, but their taste is sum'n I'm fond of." ​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ Thinking about how some cats have to deal with day to day grievances often makes him think of his own. Though it is a well guarded secret and he has plainly told no one else but his own family. As close as he is with them some of his views are often different. It is because of this that he keeps such a wide grin plastered onto his maw, a strange waltz in his step. His paws carry him effortlessly toward the two, curious of the words that the deputy speak of. His eyes gleaming with a small light of interest as he narrows his eyes on the broken up shells of creatures that had once called it home. He has never taken an interest in eating anything like this and where Smogmaw congratulates the tom of soft colors merely widens his grin. "What did it taste like? Slimy? Goopy? Wiggly?" He really wants to know as he brings himself to sit down and gaze upon the other. His eyes roam over small frame but he sees nothing wrong with it. Most of his clanmates are slender and barely passing at living.

So this encounter makes little impression on his mind. Perhaps it used to be different? He certainly doesn't remember.​

 

[Ravenwatcher.]

So I walk alone down the darkest roads​

---

Ravenwatcher admittingly, could not fathom the thought of not having something that would hinder her in any slight way...besides being on the smaller stature in a room full of cats who could easily smother her just by rolling onto her, yet that wasn't anything as...tough as what Needledrift deals with and, admittingly Ravenwatcher was quite intrigued and impressed by the warrior, she was strong despite her short-comings and with that, she had much respect for the warrior.

Both Chittertongue and Smogmaw had come over to begin conversing with the she-cat over what she had been eating and...the young warrior found herself joining in, looking over at the crushed snails while blinking, surely that did not taste good at all...but she admits, this was smart and she nodded slightly before looking over at Needledrift and the others. "That is quite impressive Needledrift" she said calmly, though she dare not want to know how it felt to eat snails and wrinkled her nose slightly at Chittertongue's question. "Perhaps we could even steal some bird eggs? I'm sure those could be good too" she commented pausing while a slight smirk grew on her monotone features "They'd probably taste much better than...frog's eggs of course" the warrior hummed in amusement.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 05 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple

---

​

Once a kit going hungry in leafbare, maggotpaw is no stranger to eating all manner of things she can get her paws on - bugs no different. She watches in rapt attention as needledrift eats the slimy insects, though not with disgust but rather jealousy -though more prey is available, she actually doesn't mind the taste of the creepy crawlies, and she's never had a snail before. "Crickets taste much better - kind of sweet almost, but also like smoke," she offers to the conversation, though if she finds any herself its not as though she will be sharing. Not without a proper trade anyhow.

​

 

[Needledrift]

She blinks to each of her clan-mates in turn as they arrive, as pleasantly as she can manage while red-hot embarrassment flares in her chest. She had hoped that she'd be cloistered away enough that she would evade attention, evade mockery and jeers and ridicule for her unfortunate predicament. It seemed she had been .... half-right? Though her evasion had lacked any skill or fore-thought, her clan-mates held her in no ill-regard. They were all kind, curious, playful. None of them stare at her, none of them hiss in disgust....

She feels silly for even thinking they would, she realizes quite suddenly. She's known these cats all her life, she's trained with them and fought alongside them. Half a smile creeps onto her lopsided face, the expression a little strained due to the locked muscles where her jaws stayed fixedly parted. A soft hum goes to Smogmaw, a quiet promise to try out his suggestion at a later time. Frog-eggs and crickets, Ravenwatcher and Maggotpaw offer in addition to their deputy's comment. She nods to both, the glint in Maggotpaw's eyes giving her a little boost of confidence. Maybe she would... try to... ask her mentor if they could do some bug-hunting a little later. It could be a tracking exercise!

Chittertongue makes her pause. How to describe the taste and feeling? She looks down her sticky paws. How how how how how.... She blinks - once, twice - before raising her head up again and looking the soft tom right in the eye and placing a slimy, snail-wet paw-pad right on his nose.​

she smells like lemongrass and sleep​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ The tom waits patiently for a response of some kind to his many questions, that smile never leaving his muzzle. Afterall he has never tried to eat a snail before. Only twigs and rocks and rats. All of which are pretty tasty given what is picked but here is a new treat, a new adventure in the culinary arts. So the half blind warrior is ever curious about what it can possibly taste like. Shifting his paws the lilac tom watches as she raises a paw and then places the cold wet pad upon his very nose. The smell is so strange and it seems to make his smile widen even further. Straining the corners of his muzzle and his jaw parts as he feels how cold it is, how we and most importantly the slime. He suddenly cackles as he shifts his nose from under her paw. "Well that is certainly different, hehh. Though I don't think I like the smell very much." It is indeed a slimy thing, mucus and all.​