EVERYONE KNOWS — clay & thorn intro

[WOLF THORN]

Afternoon hunts are not Thorn’s favorite—he much prefers hunting in the early morning, before the heat of the land becomes unbearable—but he’s somehow found himself out on one. He’s miserably warm underneath his thick fur, but that’s not even the worst of it. No, the worst is that he’s been paired with possibly one of the worst hunting partners in existence. He’d thought that the two of them could go on a nice hunt together to try and bond—or whatever it is that Thorn is supposed to do with this cat who’s now a part of his family. What Thorn hadn’t counted on, though, was that Clay would be totally insufferable. He’s a terrible hunter; it’s surprising that he’s managed to survive this long, even with the support of an entire group of cats!

There’s only so much irritation that one cat can endure, and though Thorn has never been too particular about his appearance before, he finds himself unable to ignore the tangled, unruly tufts of hair that have decided to stick out along his chest. Licking down the wild parts helps to calm him down a bit, but he’s still radiating annoyance. So when Clay pads over, telling him something along the lines of it’s too bad we didn’t catch anything, he snaps at the smaller tom. "You’re the reason we didn’t catch anything, you useless mousebrain."

Clay, on his part, has the good sense to look guilty. Springing to his paws, the hazel-eyed menace shouts, "At least I’m not rude! You didn’t even want to talk to me! How can we work together if we don’t talk?" They’re face to face now, staring one another down, although Clay wears an expression of amusement rather than anger. He glances around, waiting for another cat to walk by—as soon as the victim is within earshot, Clay turns to face them. "You agree, right? He’s being mean for no reason."
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[ PENNED BY FOXLORE ]​

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[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

"I think you're both full of bees." Tugger sniffs in response to Clay's inquiry. Resolving childish squabbles were not part of Tugger's duties, last he checked. He surveys the pair with undisguised, banal contempt. His gaze travels from Thorn's tufted chest fur to Clay's almost playful grin. They're both distasteful, in his unhumble opinion. A chatterbox and a haggard beast. Tugger resists the urge to box the motor-mouth over the ears.

"You shouldn't need to speak to your hunting partner, learn to read body language. And as for you -" His lip curls as he fixes his dark gaze on Thorn. "Maybe you'd actually catch something if you spent less time dragging your hide through a thorn bush and more time focusing on scoping out nests."​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[yarrow.]

⚘  in character   out of character   character tags   reference

• 
  ── ( ᴛᴀɢs. )  A low hum resonates within Yarrow's throat– though she is not the first to approach, it would seem that she has been here for some time. Long enough, at least, to have seen everything that transpired. And it amuses her, perhaps. That can be seen in how her eyes crinkle, though it is a quiet thing. Distant. "You should be careful yourself, Tugger," she warns idly. "The world is not so easily judged by your own vanity." Mirth sparkles in dull olive, a hint of a joke that she does not restrain. "Perhaps you should look after your own appearance before you speak of another's, in any case." The longer he spent studying himself for perceived faults, the less time they would have to deal with his insufferable tongue, at least.
  
  "Though he does have a point. If you spent more time in search of prey and less time bothering each other, you might have been more successful." She shrugs, as if the remark was nothing more than a passing thought.​
  
  

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•  
• n/a​
•  
• ──── yarrow, eventually yarrowtongue.  cis female,  she - her pronouns.
  ──── approximately five years old,  though age unknown. ages the first.
  ──── sexuality unknown, presumed to be wholly disinterested in others.
  ──── lilac silver ticked tabby with curly fur  and deep,  muted olive eyes.​
•  
• 

 

[HAZE]

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╰☆☆ The silver tabby is not prone to family squabbles. Fighting is not his prerogative; even as a kit, if one of his siblings decided to pick on him or play some prank, he'd roll over and let them get their laughs before carrying on with his day. He supposes not everyone can be that way, though; Thorn looks to be quite upset with Clay, and Haze flicks his ears as he overhears it has stemmed from a failed hunt.

He meanders towards the small group, now to include Yarrow and Tugger. His lopsided smile is a sharp contrast to the more volatile felines' bladed tongues.

"Aw, Thorn, give him a break," Haze meows. His fluffy tail twitches as he speaks. "It's just a mouse. You'll get it next time, no worries."

Just a mouse. He frowns, thinking of Finch, of the marsh cat who'd bitten him. Just a mouse. He shakes his head briefly to clear the thoughts away.​

—PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Clay isn’t at all surprised when the orange-furred tom responds with an answer that isn’t only not what he wanted to hear, but also flat out insulting. Thorn only stares blankly at Tugger for a brief moment, and while the feline who strides over to join them next sort of defends him, she also looks like she couldn’t care less about this conversation.

Cocking his head to one side, the brown and white tom settles onto his haunches. "I’m way better at talking than reading bodies anyway. I’m just really good at saying what needs to be said, and not talking makes it a lot harder tot hunt with someone else." The gray and white tabby who approaches next seems much more agreeable than the first two—and much less strict than Thorn—so Clay offers a bright, toothy grin to him. There is always going to be another hunt to go on. "You get it! I’m glad you agree, at least. We’ll get two mice next time, even better!"

Thorn is much less amused by the trio’s statements. To Tugger, the tom casts a half-glare, continuing to lick at his unkempt chest fur. You’re one to talk, flat-face, he thinks, nose wrinkling in feigned disgust. He doesn’t actually think the other tom looks bad, but the combination of stark orange fur and absolutely no snout is truly comical. But in the end, he finds himself too proud to stoop to such a low as insulting those who are obviously no better, so Thorn shrugs off the comment. "I’d like to see one of you try hunting with him. It’s not so easy," he sighs, exasperation leaking into his tone.
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[ PENNED BY FOXLORE ]​

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[Lionsnarl]

"GIRL, YOU'RE A DIME, I'M A DIAMOND"​

Tugger blinks at Yarrow, a slow and familiar gesture. He is unfazed by the she-cat's words and even idly swipes his tongue over one claw before even thinking to respond. There is no quick-witted retort on his tongue for her. He knows he is the best kept cat in their group, so he disregards the first half of her comment entirely. All he hears is that he is right. He sits a little straighter, a smirk playing across his features.

"I think trying to hunt with either of you would be waste of time and energy." The ginger king sniffs in response to Thorn's lazy excuse of a statement. ​

✦ ★ ✦​