pafp EYES ON THE PRIZE | o, kit stuck in a boot

[moontide.]

IF YOU'RE SO FUNNY, THEN WHY ARE YOU ON YOUR OWN TONIGHT? ✧​

if there is one thing that birchmilk is proud of, is her ever-growing collection. wolfkit had found her dragging in something swinging and shining, and had been curious of what it was. birch wasn't cruel by any means, and found it useless to keep her achievements a secret. so, she invited the child to look at what she's collected so far. she's showered him in riches and gold, trinkets taken from two-legs and kittypets alike. symbols she doesn't understand, and small objects she was able to lug into camp.

"oh! wolf," comes the woman's trill, excited to show him her biggest and most prized steal. a leather boot falls over from birchmilk's timed kick, inviting the smoke-furred tom into its warmth. a smile is plastered wide upon her features, more than ready to indulge wolf in the story of this catch. "this was thrown at me while i was trying to take the two-leg's other paw, and i thought, why not just take what he threw? it took me so long to get it back here though. but isn't it cool!" the molly rambles on, ignorant of what wolf might have been doing. far too busy reminiscing on old catches and impressive stunts.

@=Wolfkit=
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[Wolfpaw.]

❝ and they saw trouble in my eyes ✧°.☀ ———————————— Even with his avoidance to other cats, Wolfkit couldn't help that shiny things caught his eyes and overran his thoughts. So naturally when he had seen Birchmilk carrying something suitably shiny he had started tailing her. Not expecting much more than what she had been holding, but being shown a collection of trinkets that made his tail switch from right to left so quick it was nearly a blur. His grey eyes were wide with intrigue as he quietly looked at all of it, then she showed him the craziest thing he had ever seen.

An old boot, with a leather smell, and a undeniably cozy interior. Wolfkit could hardly keep his tuft ears focused on what Birchmilk spoke of. His grey eyes were fixed on the inside of that boot. It felt like a natural instincts took over his limbs as he started to smash his face into the boot, Birchmilk's words becoming muffled as the darkness engulfed him. He wriggled and fought and eventually was able to turn his body around so his gleeful eyes could keep an eye on the outside world.

[penned by user - [tags☀]]

———————————— ☀.°✧ they were quick to recognize the devil in me ❞ ​

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[Ratshadow]

CALLED TO DEVIL AND THE DEVIL DID COME ✧​

“It may be warmer there than it is out here.” the feline mused as she peers at the two. Ratshadow liked small spaces. Curling up to get all comfy and warm. It was a pleasure she didn’t often find. But Wolfkit was a kit and had all the time for such things. “It’s a rather strange looking thing.” she couldn’t understand why the two-leg would have such a thing. Two-legs were strange and complicated creatures. ​

 

[smogstar]

Maybe it's simply an innate intuition of some sort, but collection-keeping is a habit among many a feline. Smogmaw himself had one, tucked beneath a tree's knotted roots in the further reaches of the territory, though it isn't something he mentioned in casual conversation. In point of fact, his hoard is the result of subconscious temptation more so than good fun, as the tabby maintained the belief that those who have more must deserve more. And he has quite a bit to his name, such as the bones Hemlocksight used to read his future, and the tire he sent Flickerfire downhill in.

Hell, perhaps her head never stopped spinning after all.

There he is, minding his own business, wallowing in his own self-pity when an odd display catches his eye; a hewn-off twoleg foot, with a pair of black eyes peering out from the gap. Intrigued, the tom saunters on over to the group. The object is given a good look-over before he speaks. "A twoleg threw this at you, huh?" asks Smogmaw, glancing toward Birchmilk. He would raise a brow at this claim had he the energy to do so. "Must've deserved it."

He looks down at the article, seeing but a small part of the kit inside. "Is it something we can eat?"​

 

[FERNDANCE]

"Oh yes, you can absolutely eat it," the gaunt tabby mewed to Smogmaw as she strode closer, nodding along to her own falsehoods surrounding the twoleg attire. It was all too familiar, every twoleg seemed to have paws inside their paws, but the outer paws seemed harmlessly detachable, like a lizard shedding its tail to rid itself of a predator. Green eyes widened in fascination at Birchmilk's story, she'd never heard their defense mechanism being used to attack someone before. Her attention wanes from the kitten and the boot, instead finding comfort in the rest of Birchmilk's collection. Ferndance's paws moved instinctively whilst the rest of the clan talked, quietly swiping at a smaller trinket and moving it towards herself in an attempt to steal it. She did her best to hide whatever it was beneath her wiry legs if she was successful, an innocent smile lining Ferndance's maw as she looked up towards the warriors and kittens. It wasn't easy to steal from clanmates, most knew where their belongings were and recognised when things were amiss, but feline urges were not as easily tamed as the warrior code would like one to believe.

Though the conversation may have moved on, Ferndance was reminded of what she'd said earlier about consuming the foot. "Though the kitten might be easier to chew. Twoleg paws are hard and feel like... really hard snake skin. Luckily for us, our prey is trapped. Muahahahaha." She flashes a mischievous glance toward the pair of beady eyes peaking out of the boot, but she made no effort to run towards him and give him a good scare.



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[moontide.]

IF YOU'RE SO FUNNY, THEN WHY ARE YOU ON YOUR OWN TONIGHT? ✧​

when wolfkit had not squealed about how cool and fearless birchmilk is, she knew something was wrong. opening her eyes to spot the little tom, she finds that he is simply nowhere. until she had looked in the very same boot she was rambling about."well!" comes her overdramatic huff, playing up her annoyance. i hope you're comfortable...in MY boot...." she won't drag him out or force him to leave, it isn't too serious for her, but she's not above messing with the poor thing.

soon, an audience grows, and her face turns into a scowl with smogmaw's remark. "i hope you get a boot thrown at you too. i hope it hits you in the head and crows eat you." birchmilk had considered herself a victim when that boot made contact with her. it was a serious over reaction to her initial ploy. her attention snaps when something on her hoarde is disturbed, and birch glares upon ferndance. she will seriously skin that cat. "trying to steal from me, fernie? you know better. now put it back." it was tactless, and obvious. stealing from such a renown thief as birch...she would have let fern take it if there was more creativity behind the thievery. "you can. i don't think you'll be able to eat anything else after it. thing's tough." she's not proud of it, but on some nights when the hunger pains are too much, she just starts gnawing on the two-leg article. it never really helped.

the lighlty-painted molly looks within the boot, eyeing the kit within. "are you coming out anytime soon?" a light question, though she would understand if he didn't. not when fern wants to eat him.​

 

[Wolfpaw.]

❝ and they saw trouble in my eyes ✧°.☀ ———————————— The kit stayed quietly eyeing the area as more cats appeared. They seemingly came out of nowhere since the little tom couldn't see anywhere but straight out. Wolfkit liked Ratshadow's point, it was getting rather toasty in the boot, with his small amount of body heat and his dense coat it was like the sun was warming him. He could see himself falling asleep in it honestly.

But before he could even try to act on such a thought Smogmaw interrupted, making a snide comment at Birchmilk and then questioning if the lovely hiding spot could be consumed. Wolfkit wanted to tell him no, since it was obviously being used but, in all honesty he was a little scared of the rather gruff and unhappy looking warrior. Honestly Wolfkit was timid around quite a few of the warriors, they were all very large and not many of them were overly quiet around kits. Something Wolfkit struggled with on occasion.

As he thought over what he could say back to Smogmaw to discourage an eating of his fort Ferndance also threatened his new found den. He still just couldn't get the retort he needed. Then the conversation shifted and he was now the snack.

His eyes went wide and he felt himself scoot further into the boot, not from fear of course! But, general caution, if he had been hungry these larger warriors must be starving.
"I'll fight back, the boot won't." He said with as much spit and fire he could muster.

[penned by user - [tags☀]]

———————————— ☀.°✧ they were quick to recognize the devil in me ❞ ​

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