pafp ever-present ꕥ bug gawking

[LAMBCURL.]

The air hums with a pleasant buzz. The slightest movement in a world that otherwise remained still. Leaf-bare seemed to slow the moorland into a crawl. For once, near-truly, and utterly desolate. The grass lay flat, deadened; and even then, it was blanketed with snow, day after day. A glimpse of the seeds sewn below was even rarer. In comparison, the tunnels teemed, or perhaps it was only the comparison that made things seem that way. But not all bugs would crash between the walls he himself made a home in. No, their own way of life was beyond his imagining, this he knew. He was not one to think the world itself orbitted around him. He himself, was only a small fraction.

Adverse to the deadened ground, adverse to the tunnel; what would provide better reprieve, than the glimpse of open air within their little hollow? They were not so loved by the stars that snow evaded them all together, but beneath the pattering of feet– the hustle and bustle– all powder was eventually stamped into slush. Damp ground it would be then, later to freeze all over again. It was how things were.

And perhaps... only in this brief time could a friend lurking in the topsoil seize their chance to come above ground. Only in this time... a miracle, when the sky is clear as it would ever be this season, and the ground is not so petrified. No, not an easy feat; but a friend prevails, nonetheless. Pale body and beady eyes, a face pokes above the ground. Of course, he knows that bugs dig, but how fortunate was he, to see it breach the surface in real time. Not the warmth this one was hoping for, Lambcurl can near-surely say; but oh, he could not tell, for the way it searched and seize was too funny, too cute! Small as he was, Lambcurl was the closest some of them could ever hope to get to this little one.

Lambcurl smiles at it, pink lips curled; distantly friendly. The far away sheen always prevails, but he is loving, he is kind, he swears it. His friend won't look back, but it sees him. "Oh no, you haven't found it yet..." He prods with pink toes. "Don't worry, you're close..." whether it knew what it was searching for or not. It's expected. It's alright. Many a feline knew not themselves. It was fine. "It's alright..."

[ @HOUNDTHISTLE what is this mf saying!! ]​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

Houndthistle made rarely good company, his strange accent and sort of... acceptance, perhaps, of how the world was and will always be made conversation quite unenjoyable for most with him, but there were a few things Houndthistle did enjoy. The warm sun as it peaked through clouds to warm his pelt, the way the grass smelled right before the rain, and, maybe surprising to some, bugs. He wasn't gaga over the lil creatures, no, but he found a sort of peace with them that he didn't necessarily have with other cats. And as he noticed Lambcurl cooing over something, his curiosity was peaked and he lumbered over, large shape blocking the rays of light from the little dot in the soil's travels as he leaned his nose farther down to peer curiously at it. A smile, true and genuine, pulled at his lips before he came to crouch next to the way smaller tunneler to watch the little bug. "Aren't you a li'l feller... came out after the chill, ay?" He murmured, his words so gentle, so soft that they sounded like a low grumble in his chest, "Gon' getchu some of that grub..."

He liked bugs. Bugs were easier to talk to then cats cause cats thought too much. Bugs were like him. Be safe, be fed, be alive. That's all life was for and that's all life was needed to be. "He's got it figured out." Yes, indeed. To Houndthistle, this bug had everything he needed.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Azaleafrost]

Azaleapaw didn't usually approach her clanmates. She preferred to avoid them, knowing her presence would only earn sneers and scowls. But something was going on over there with Lambcurl and Houndthistle..... Who were they talking too??

Curiosity got the better of her, and she cautiously approached them to see what was going on.

A bug..... They were talking to a little bug.....

She watched the bug go about it's business without a care in the world. Little guy had no problems. No responsibility. Bugs sure had it made. She settled beside Lambcurl and tucked in her paws.

"He knows exactly where he's going...." She said quietly, as if to not disturb their little friend.
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[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

---

What on earth were they all staring at and prattling about? Silverpaw is confused, and a part of him fears that if he got too close he'd be absorbed into their realm of madness. But ultimately his youthful sense of curiosity prevails and it drove him to approach. Yet again he was faced with more unfamiliar faces, all bar one. Was it Azzyfoot? Azzileetoe? Azaleapaw? Tch! Did it really matter if he got it right? It wasn't like he was even capable of remembering the 'paw slapped onto the end of his former kittypet name.

Now that he was closer he could finally see what all the fuss was about; a bug. Really? Did the ferals not know what to do about bugs? Maybe he should show them what to do, and that's what he ultimately decided to do. He aimed to smack a forepaw down upon the insect. "Bugs go squish."
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[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw passes by the small gathering without notice at first, but as Silverpaw goes over and smacks something on the ground, the tabby decides to investigate. He looks on with disgust as Silverpaw's foot is tacky with insect guts; the remains of the creature is scattered into the dirt. "Bugs go squish," he explains to those who had been watching the damn thing with so much rapture.

Weaselclaw chokes on wild laughter. "He's right, y'know," he tells Lambcurl, Houndthistle, and Azaleapaw. "He's done you a favor. Freed you of whatever spell the bugs are putting cats under these days. Now you can get some work done."

He punctuates his directive with a snort and a wave of his tail. "Silverpaw, clean that muck off your paw before you track it everywhere in camp." He isn't afraid of feline blood and guts, but something about the sickly yellow innards of a bug makes him uneasy.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[LAMBCURL.]

Company was sweet as it ever was. They need not agree, no. To share a perspective was something invaluable indeed. But there was no need for such a thought, such a penance. Compromise was not needed, when already, the two of them agreed. Grumbling low... it was a softness the little ones did not need, but appreciated, he was sure. Kind cushioning for what would be to follow. Lambcurl's smile plasters high. Drone that it was, he himself slowly lulls to the sound... The atmosphere is comfortable. Azaleapaw settles close. Tucked in, she plans to stay. And Lambcurl is happy. His eyes water beneath the sun. Did bugs have to worry about the same thing? Dealt with without a care, maybe... Content, staid in their strange monotony. "Oh, oh! He's figured it out..."

The youth ought to learn the state of the world as soon as soon as they could, yes... He certainly does not protest the new face. To the sleek, blue face, he smiles. Smiles still, pink eyes glitter all the same as he sees his forepaw lifted. And with a mighty thump, the wonders of nature are no longer so. Reduced to naut but goop. His smile is a thing in the pass. Pink lips only press thin, now. "Ah-hmm." Not impressed. Not really. What was the point?

Weaselclaw gurgles on his own laugh. Not so funny, not really. Lambcurl regards him with an owlish tilt of his head. Spells outside of the purely metaphorical... should not be a worry. Lambcurl shakes his head. And, "Squish between your teeth would be better. Less mess, more meaning." The waste of a life should not be celebrated. The waste of a life was rare, indeed. And to manage it... Well, he was not sure what to thing. Mere stain on the frozen ground, now. O, Unfortunate.​

 

[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

---

"Yes sir." Silverpaw replies as he looks at Weaselclaw before raising his paw up so he could lick the bug innards from his pads. He didn't mind eating bugs, before he had been cruelly abandoned he had once enjoyed being lifted up by the twolegs so he could catch spiders on the walls and windows. It had been such fun and had always pleased the twolegs. Of course he finds himself struggling to keep track of Lambcurl's words, but he figures he has the jist of it. "Squished is squished, that's all the meaning that matters here. Got any more bugs?"
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