pafp FOOTLOOSE | food fight

[FERNDANCE]

The fourth rule of the code was a difficult one to follow when prey flowed from the freshkill pile as if it were a river on a flooded bank. Without the numbers to finish off their overhunted food, plenty of prey had gone stale from the elements, teetering on the verge of becoming carrion. No one had volunteered yet to take it out and bury it and, with the nagging boredom of grown adults stuck in camp like kittens, mischief was ripe in the clearing that morning. Ferndance didn't know how it started or who threw the first frog. As she cowered behind the clanrock clutching a dead frog in her maw, the cinnamon tabby was acutely aware of her heart rapidly beating against her ribcage. Adrenaline filled her veins and her thoughts, determined not to lose the game she'd either roped someone into her (or someone had roped her into). Despite the wild grin that fell onto her muzzle, she kept watch of the shadows that danced on the camp's walls of cats running to and from their hiding places... and cats simply minding their own business, coming back from patrols and the like. The opportunity for targets was endless, but Ferndance just had one in mind.

One shadow was lankier than the rest and it was upon seeing that one that the warrior poked her head out. There was intense mischief in her eyes as they locked onto Batchaser, her teeth gripping down just hard enough to break the leathered skin of the frog caught between them. With a swing of her head, she flung the prey at Batchaser like a discus, aiming for it to hit an unspecific part of his body. She didn't know if Batchaser was already involved or if he was just passing through on his way back from a nightly walk, but to the cinnamon tabby, it didn't matter - he would be a participant whether he liked it or not. Winking at the curly tom, Ferndance darted forwards after her throw, skidding toward a patch of marsh grasses where another contestant had tried (and failed) to throw a bloated piece of freshkill at someone. When she picked it up, she hesitated upon looking in the other's direction, urging him with erratic lashes of her tail to try and fight fire with fire.

@BATCHASER

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[BATCHASER]

Being stuck in camp was.. boring to the long-limbed tom. Of course, he enjoyed being lazy and napping the day away in his nest, but today was dull to him. Batchaser watches his clanmates bustle about in camp, some of the warriors were stuck here, namely him as per usual. Though he doesn't mind venturing outside of camp for his nightly walks, these days it just feels stifling.

He peeled himself onto pale splashed paws, shaking his dark coat out before he sauntered towards the prey pile. When he saw the dead frogs spilling across the prey his other clanmates had brought back, he scrunched up his leather nose. Yuck, frogs. His whip-like tail twitches, barely touching the muddy earth beneath him. He doesn’t like frogs as much, He enjoyed one but that’s enough for him, to choke down the slimy taste that settled on his tongue afterward. He stuck out his tongue down at the dead frogs, that were in the prey pile. He felt like a kit, not wanting to eat anything he didn’t like.

The lanky tom’s muscles tensed as he felt something hit his side. He whipped his head down, spotting the object. It was… a frog? He lets his odd-colored eyes blink, before he looks around for the culprit with a confused sound escaping his throat. Ah, there’s the perpetrator. Ferndance. He quite liked the cinnamon molly and her equally strange acts. Batchaser spots the wild grin on the other, and he looks back down at the frog and then back to the culprit. He lashes his tail behind him, letting his own wild grin spilt across his dark maw, he was excited to let loose for once. The tom shall indulge Ferndance, in throwing frogs at other cats.

Batchaser watches as the cinnamon tabby throws him a wink, before scrambling to a patch of marsh grass. Looking at the other’s tail flick towards him, he nods and hum escape him. He spots another participant try and fail at throwing a frog at another one of his random clanmates. He leans down and grabs a bloated frog in between his teeth by the leg from the prey pile. He trots towards Ferndance, with a slow sweep of his pale-tipped tail. Might as well, join in on the fun. He cranes his neck forward, as he tightens his grip on his weapon for throwing around. He lets out a warble towards Ferndance, as he jerks his head to the side at a random but unsuspecting clanmate.

MOONLIGHT BLISS ˚⊹♡ VIBING WITH THE BATS

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• 

• ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ ( that's one enemy down! ) BATCHASER.
  ✦ cismale ; HE / HIM, fine with gendered terms. ; 31 MOONS & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ warrior of shadowclan | formerly a loner
  ✦ single / pansexual / not actively looking / open to crushes & romance
  ✦ a tall, shorthaired curly black smoke oriental mix with half-lidded odd colored eyes.
  ✦ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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[MIRESTAR]

In retrospect, Mirepurr must have asked for it. They wouldn't think so themself but the mischief-ridden minds of their Clanmates would definitely agree, just to save themselves a bit of trouble. The soft browns of their body are hidden in the shade by the edge of camp, tongue moving between their pawpads to clean them, teeth working hard to get rid of anything that doesn't belong there.

Ferndance and the others' play hardly interests them. Smiles all around in joy, narrowed eyes in concentration- it looks fun, sure, but Mirepurr cannot get past the barrier that a rule warrants. It doesn't feel right to be the one calling the game off so they simply pretend it's not happening.

"We ought to clean that," they call out to Batchaser, seeing the lanky tom hang by the fresh-kill pile for longer than necessary. The amount of frogs... well, it's getting out of paw, even here in their camp and not just the territory. Soon the pile would start to stink. Mirepurr doesn't even want to think of the inevitable: throwing precious food out so that the rot doesn't spread from one to all. Such a waste.

And then, something slimy slaps Mirepurr across the face. There's no way to tell who had thrown it, if they were the target to begin with or not, but it happens. They freeze; paw still in air, tip of their tongue stuck between teeth and visible for all the world to see.

Now how does one react to that?
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[MARBLEPAW]

Marblekit trots out of the nursery just in time to see Ferndance fling a perfectly good frog into Batchaser’s flank. Her jaws part in surprise, mouth widening into an ‘O’, as the thing drips like liquid from the warrior’s pelt onto the ground. The smacking sound it had made resounds through camp. She kneads the ground somewhat nervously—would Batchaser be upset with Ferndance for her silly bit of play? She half-expects the dark tom to spit in her direction, but to Marblekit’s shock, Batchaser lowers his jaws to the fresh-kill pile and grips a frog by its leg. He hurls it at a completely unsuspecting Mirepurr, whose surprise causes him to freeze entirely.

“Wow,” she murmurs; she isn’t familiar with this game, but she wants to participate, should the adults allow it. She scampers toward Mirepurr and paws at his forelegs. “That didn’t hurt, did it? Do you think it would hurt if I threw one at Branchkit?” Her tone is earnest, her eyes round.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Marblekit, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 3 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan kit, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.
  
  

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[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] It astound him that some warriors could act like kits instead of actual adults, and this was the numerous amount of times that made Snowpaw slightly unamused. Ferndance throwing food while Batchaser joined in and Mirepurr caught victim to their disrespect to starclan's gift. Though he'll admit they are overflooding with frogs at the meantime but this still did not excuse their actions. With a soft sigh he moved towards Mirepurr and Marblekit, shifting to move in front of the kit so she wouldn't get hit.

"I'm sure Mirepurr is fine, and don't play with your food, its disrespectful to the ones who blessed us with it" he said lightly before looking at Mirepure who also seemed deeply unamused by Batchaser's and Ferndance's game as he was. At least some here knew to have respect for the things gifted to them even if it was an over abundance of the thing.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You ve wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

• 
  "speak""Thoughts"
  
• 
  Snowpaw ❄ He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 9 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[SINGEGLARE]

*+:｡.｡ "It ain't disrespectful if it ain't food!" Singepaw's cry was the only warning Snowpaw would get before the boy aimed to chuck a frog directly at Snowpaw's face. "Remember when you got kissed by a bat, loser? Does this bring back fond memories of your old mate?" Singepaw cackled. Frankly, he didn't see anything wrong with this activity. The code was made so cats didn't waste food - but none of this was going to waste since everyone here has already eaten (and had second helpings!) Frankly, this way, the corpses would have another use other than to rot away, untouched, thanks to the overabundance.

As he looked around for another amphibian to throw, his eyes would briefly catch on Batchaser and Ferndance. Although he wasn't sure who started this whole fight, he couldn't help but admire his older clan-mates. Now those two knew how to have fun!

*°:⋆ₓₒ Updated 4/15/24

• Interacting with @Snowpaw.
  
• 
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☄ Singepaw
  ☄ Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
  ☄ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
  ☄ NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
  ☄ Shadowclan — Kit
  ☄ Apprenticed to Pipitclaw
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☄ Physically easy | mentally easy
  ☄ Attack in bold #b8312f
  ☄ Can be power played just ask
  injuries: Throat bite, flank scratches, various cutes [pained until 04/03/24]
  

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[smogstar]

Smogmaw must've missed whatever began this food-flinging phenomenon, but seeing the precision at which Ferndance hurled a perfectly fine frog at Batchaser's haunch, the deputy operates on the assumption that the spindly tom had deserved it. But of course, if you give rambunctious cats a whisker's-length, they'll soon take the whole forest. The former lead's example begins to mold the clans' most malleable minds in no time at all; namely, Singepaw. Amber eyes, semi-lidded and lacking vitality, watch on in sheer displeasure while the young tom launches fresh-kill at his clanmate's face. No tact, no control.

Granted, Singepaw provides a rather good reason to smother Snowpaw in dead frog. Premised on the idea that this fresh-kill will go to waste regardless, there is no inherent issue with repurposing it for better needs. StarClan forbid they have a little fun in this swamp, too. The strain in his expression would dissipate in the coming moments, and in lieu of it, an amused pout shaped the contours between his jaw and cheekbones. So long as the mess is cleaned up, the silver tabby finds no need to exert himself over it.

The deputy mirrors Snowpaw's rationale, and roams towards the unaffiliated bystanders - Marblekit and Mirepurr - out of the line of fire. To Smogmaw's great fortune, he doesn't have any flame-flecked apprentices chucking frogs in his general direction, so he is wholly unscathed by the time he eases onto his hind legs beside them. "Y'ain't gonna let him get away with that, are you?" He asks, gaze trained on the amphibious projectile as it tumbles across camp's floor, once aimed at Snowpaw's dear mug. ​

 

[MIRESTAR]

@lilacfur ​

Marblekit's voice is what snaps Mirepurr out of their daze, and at once, they erupt into a fit of laughter. "No, of course not! What kind of warrior would I be if that hurt me?" Some might believe their body is as soft as their heart, but that wide-stanced body can take quite a hit.

They're not quite sure what to respond to the tiny kitten though... would it be immature of them to encourage her to join in? Mirepurr themself is still stuck between joining in or reprimanding Ferndance and Batchaser (or at least they imagine those two to be the joint-culprits). Do they even posses the right to do so?

It's Smogmaw who relieves Mirepurr of this dilemma. He is as nonchalant as he always is, walking through the line of fire without a care in the world, coming out on the other side without a single frog hitting him. It's amazing, really. Maybe that image he has crafted over the many moons of being deputy has turned his fur into something repels embarrassment too, not just water.

The apprentices have joined in too, and at this point, Mirepurr just feels left out. Batchaser escapes their field of vision, so they pick another target... one whose very presence fuels them to act on impulse.

"No, but I have my eyes on someone else now," they hum to Smogmaw. Mischief has grabbed them as if they're a young apprentice who either doesn't know or doesn't care about the rules; they're quick to grab a frog of their own, and they almost grow dizzy with the ferocity that they swung their head with in order to hopefully hit Lilacfur's flank.
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[lilacfur]

Food is meant to be respected, the code declared. Prey is not something to kill as a sport or competition. It's meant to be eaten, savored, and blessed as the stars had allowed their bellies to not feel so empty another day. ShadowClan could feel close to such a code especially so as even in the most bountiful months some still had to miss meals or, in her paws, share with one or two other Clanmates.

She would have never expected her Clan to treat prey like playthings or mincemeat like the vicious rogues from seasons ago, or even the mockery Siltcloud had made during their harshest season.

However, as she left her sisters den for a shared meal, that is what she is faced with. A ripe frog she wouldn't let even her kits near smacked against her side and her eyes snapped to see the culprit. She squinted as amber met blue. "Really?" A steady paw stepped forward and though her fur remained flat she looked terrifyingly serious.

"Are you sure you want to go there?" Another movement of her paw swiped it in front of her and in a swift flick she batted it back at Mirepurr, aiming for it to hit them square on the muzzle.

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• LILACFUR ✩ she/her, 20 moons, mother to marblekit and sycamorekit
  ⭃ lh lilac rosette with yellow eyes (carrying cinnamon, solid), a torn ear and claw marks beside her eye.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by this loser ↛ @gonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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