EVERYDAY DECISION — intro

SNORLAXMOON

SNORLAXMOON

SLUMBER
SkyClan 10K
Dec 25, 2022
15
4
3

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The sound of the snow reminds Snorlax of the munching of dry pellets. A meal his folks give him - one that never seems to satisfy the blue tom's hunger, and always seems to leave him wanting more. Boring. Bland. Nothing special, that kibble.

He's watched from behind glass confines, seen it happen on-the-daily. Cats from neighboring homes wandering away, following muddy pathways and disappearing into the forest, only to return to their twolegs later that evening. Doing the same, over and over again. Snorlax didn't get why, until he'd heard talk from those who live nearest to him.

Clans, they'd called them. Groups of cats who live out in the forest, some who live even further from the pines that border their folks' nests. One in particular - what'd they call it again? SkipClan? - allows cats to wander through their land and later return to their folks, something those who'd spoken about them must do themselves. Though intrigue pulled Snorlax's attention towards their conversation, the tom still didn't get it. Why spend your day wandering through mud and pine needles, when you could stay within the warmth of your own nest, snoozing the day away?

However, one key detail causes small grey ears to perk up, and sells Snorlax on the prospect of such a journey.

Food.

Mice and squirrels and birds. These forests - if his fellow neighbors were right in their gossip - were filled with them. A buffet of critters, of new and exciting food for Snorlax to eat. Food he'd have to hunt for himself, of course - something the round tom doesn't have too much experience in. But, how hard could it be? If SkipClan could do it - if other housecats could do it - why couldn't he? Surely, he could find a critter or two and still have enough time in his day to take a nap after his long trek back home, right?

Oh, how wrong he was.

Not a critter stirred within the silent, snow-laden pathways. No mice. No squirrels. No birds. Nothing.

Where were all the critters the other housecats had spoken of? This abundance they were supposed to have? Did SkipClan eat them all? Or did they simply run out - having to wait for someone to refill their food, just as Snorlax did with his pellets?

Whatever it is, he's getting tired. Snorlax reckons he deserves a nap, just for the journey here on its own. Hopefully, he'll find something soon, so he can quicker claim his slumber-filled reward.

​
 


Redstorm had nothing against kittypets, not personally. His own father had started his life out as a kittypet and look at the life he had created for himself, for others, the legacy he left behind. Sky Clan owed their existence to a kittypet. He has seen first hand what they can become. Some kittypets though, they wander into the forest wanting to take prey from their mouths. Selfish is what they were. They had food back home, an unlimited supply, why come and take theirs? He does not understand it.
-
His apprentice, although he doubts they will find anything of substance, is in need of hunting training. Even if they couldn’t find anything surely she could still learn something from their outing. "Part your jaws and drink in the air, what can you smell?" he asks before turning and lifting his nose to the breeze, sniffing. He freezes. "Stay low and stay behind me" he warns. There’s an intruder.
-
With what had happened with Centipedepaw, with other apprentices in other clans, he was in high alert of strangers. He would protect Howlpaw with his life though. The red pelted tom parts the undergrowth with his body, coming to stand a fox-length away from the stranger. His eyes dart to the toms collar, takes in his body shape and he relaxes. "Are you lost stranger? Twoleg place is back that way we’d be glad to show you back home if you need it but this is Sky Clans territory you shouldn’t be here" he says, his tone neutral but his tail flicking back and forth behind him, the only indication that he is on edge.

// @Howlpaw
​
 

As of late there has been so many new cats showing up. Sometimes he wonders at why they choose to leave their warm homes right now and venture off into the cold. It makes little sense to him given the state of things. The thick snow upon the ground and the sometimes chilled wind in the air. With a small huff the warrior tugs his paws against the snow as he smells something. The air is so bitter and it stings his lungs. His eyes wander across the landscape that looks barren and too quiet. At least that is what it feels like at the current moment. His tail sways back and forth and he starts to make his way when he pauses at the sounds of others nearby. A stranger's scent gripping his nose. Smelling of the twolegplace. So strange. The large tom makes his way over and he sees Restorm with his apprentice.

And someone else. With a smile forming on his maw he too makes his way over, tilting his head and letting his droopy ears pull forward once more. "It's quite chilly out here as well, mon ami. Perhaps ot will be better if you do find your way back?" It is said as more of a question. Really he doesn't know if this cat has come to search out Skyclan or not. ​
 
There is mild disapproval in his steely stare, but not contempt, but it can easily translate as both from the white faced tom haloed by black thorns for fur. He pours from the pine canopy, claws grazing the flaky bark as he thuds to the ground.

The pensive warrior studies the rather rounded off shape of the feline, a disfiguration to the proper warrior shape but one that can be fixed while it can keep its well-fed rounded edges, muscle can be threaded into the mix with proper training. With enough descipline, everyone was a prospect of recruitment in Thistleback’s ambitious stare. As a mentor, as a member of Blazestar’s council, a deep hunger to train more warriors stems from the disturbed alliances and lurking rogues.

The trio confronting the stranger is joined by Thistleback who brushes shoulder with Foxgecker in idle greeting.

" unless of course. You were looking for Skyclan. I’m Thistleback. What do they call you?" he laces his words off a bladed tongue. Tone offering a daring mix of consideration, warmth, and somehow also coldness. Unwelcome but intrigued. That was the theme of Thistleback’s grey stare.

​

OOC INFO REF
  • —


  • MqZ0nzd.png
    ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
    thirty-three moons
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan
    — taken by
    Deersong 9.29.22
    — mentoring quillpaw
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    — voice & accent
    — biography･ﾟ✧​
  • bVBPWus.png

​
 

Close on her mentor's heels, Howlpaw follows. She's still getting used to patrolling SkyClan territory. Before she joined permanently she had only really seen the camp, and parts of their territory Blazestar had taken their family. In many ways, it feels like she's starting her training from the beginning or certain parts of it at least. She knew some basic hunting stances and how to track prey a little bit, but that was about the extent of her training. Redstorm urges her to part her jaw and drink in the air, which she does without question. She is about to report back to him on the things she can smell when she can see he's stiffened. He urges her to keep behind him and stay low, and though she raises a brow, she nods and follows suit.

It is only when she scents the unfamiliar scent of a kittypet stranger that she understands what has left her mentor so uneasy. Redstorm, Foxgecker, and Thistleback all appear to speak to the tom and try and discern why he was here. Howlpaw lingers back in the bushes, amber eyes watching to see how the scene in front of her would unfold.​
 
Does she know this one? Yellow eyes squint as she makes her way over, stopping behind the small gathered group of Skyclanners. Sheep had been a daylight warrior a while ago, had just been waiting for her official warrior name while she stayed and helped around camp, so perhaps she had just missed this one? Theres a twinge of guilt, regret that pops up in the back of her mind, oh, she knew near everyone (or at least thats what she liked to boast) back when she had lived with her twolegs. "Hola!" she greets with a trill, a friendly face amongst those in hesitance. Eyes wander to Redstorm, admiring him for a second before she shakes her head, blinking back towards the housecat.​
"speech"​
 

The silence is suddenly filled, but it's not food that places itself before him.

Rather, more cats. SkipClanners? He'd assume such, they all look like their folks have trapped them out of their homes for moons. So many of them. Not a single recognizable face from the twolegplace.

Where were his neighbor cats? Had they eaten them, in the wake of their lack of food? Snorlax hopes not. He'll have to run far away from SkipClan then, and that seems like quite a bit of work to do, in all this snow!

But, oh, it's SkyClan, as one of them says. Redstorm, an odd name for someone who isn't red, nor stormy. Sleepy blue eyes blink at him.

"I was told there's food out here," the grey tom says, tail aimlessly swishing behind him, "And that the... what do you call them... kitpots? The kitpots can come here while their folks are out and catch it, if they want." That's how Skip- no, SkyClan works, right?

They all think he's lost and, of course not! He could go back home whenever he wants! The tom looks behind him, towards the path he'd arrived on, only for everything behind him to look... less familiar than he'd thought. Had he strayed off the path? Oops.

Another introduces himself as Thistleback, and... what are these names they possess? Not a thistle laid on the cats' back! At least Snorlax's name made sense because... because, well, he is Snorlax! Snorlax means him, and no one or nothing else!

"'M Snorlax," the young housecat introduces himself, with his real name that makes far more sense to him than these clan cats and their names.
​
 
" kitpots " he repeats, humor dancing a shifting grey gaze. The grey and white kittypet seemed, perplexed. Such was the expected nature of those wishing to learn about the forest clans by the maw of dodgy rumor.

" Kittypet… as in… a cat whom shares den with twolegs. Not a life I ever experienced, nor will ever. Though, not a life we will judge you for. The other clans however, judge harshly… weak minded fools as they are " Thistleback flexed his legs and takes a slow step forward in proper greeting.

" food is a valuable and lacking source in this leafbare. A dangerous thing to search for in these borders unless you are one of us. " he warns but keeps a kindly even and informative tone.

" Snorlax. If you wish to eat with us. You must also wish to train and maybe one day fight alongside us. This isn’t the twoleg-food den- this is a family. My kits, live in this forest. They do not eat from the furless paws of upwalkers. They rely on warriors- so they survive. " he flicks a tail from clanmate to clanmate in turn.

" We could teach you, but understand- our elders, kits, and queens. Eat first. If there is anything left and you’re sore off your perhaps second patrol, then you eat. " he warns of a harder life. One earned, and respected. Life wasn’t meant to be lived forever, and if it’s easy then you’re doing it wrong.

​

OOC INFO REF
  • —


  • MqZ0nzd.png
    ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
    thirty-three moons
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan
    — taken by
    Deersong 9.29.22
    — mentoring quillpaw
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    — voice & accent
    — biography･ﾟ✧​
  • bVBPWus.png

​
 

Kittypet, Thistly corrects him. Kitpot sounds more correct to Snorlax, but these clan cats seem to speak in their own strange tongues, seem to feel the need to correct him so much in so little time. But, he'll bite, listen to their silly words.

And, oh, another correction - kittypets can eat Skyclan's food, if he trains with them, learns the way of their... family. To fight.

Well, this is nothing like what Snorlax thought. What would be of his nap time, if he was busy training here? If he was busy... fighting. It sounds like too much work, but the taste of new food - of rich squirrels and mice, feathery birds - was mere pawsteps away. He couldn't give that up now, could he?

All he would need to do is learn their ways - maybe walk in circles a few times - and then he could get what he'd traveled out here for. No harm in trying, for such a desired reward. If all else fails, he can just go home.

"Okay," he says, a nod of his head, "Show me the way."
​
 
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