pafp for he must fly back to his perch and cling || questions

[loampelt]

Loampelt is all sharp eyes. Hazel, they flick about Loampelt without his input. There is something about Bonefang, scars severe enough to expose his inner mouth and so plainly haunted. Loampelt's thoughts have always been ants; today they walk in a single, straightforward line. Loampelt doesn't need to twist to keep up with them or shudder under the futility of attempting to herd them into any kind of order. His thoughts walk in a line and the hill of his head functions as well as it possibly can.

He thump-thump-thumps his curled paw against the ground, his familiar method of getting others to look his way, "Were you born acting theh-theh-this old?" Loampelt asks only once he has Bonefang's attention, "We were probably — thuh-the t-tuh-tailend of your apprenticeship was probably huh-huh-here about the start of muh-mmmm-mm-mine." There is an uncertainty there, room for Bonefang's confirmation or denial, "So what's your—? Y-yuh-you look like you'd m-mmm-melt if someone tuh-told you t-tuh-to lighten up. Fall apart."

It's supposed to be a hunting patrol, but despite with the sun dipping below the treeline and the sky bruising into purple, it's too hot for any luck. Even the mud beneath Loampelt's paws is warm. He's lost interest in tracking prey scents to inaccessible burrows — it could never keep him as occupied as what is present before him. Bonefang is a puzzle for him to sink his teeth into for a while.

@BoneFang ​

tags ∘ shadowclan warrior ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 13 moons​

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[BoneFang]

Icey hues darted from his empty gaze ahead, to loampelts form as the other tom had thumped, than began to speak to him. But it wasn't a friendly, how are you, how's your day- rather, it was... questions. He couldn't Read him though, not that he probably could've if he wanted to. He couldn't.

"Maybe." His tone was flat, though, the other made a scene to attempt to catch his attention, so he wouldn't turn to walk away yet. Rather he would turn to face the other, a slight twitch of his tail.

"I was forced to mature at a young age for my sisters. I do remember your apprenticeship around my late warrior ceremony." His tail twitched slightly, unsure how to avoid too much information from the other tom. He didn't want to think about it. Did not wish to talk about it. But if the man pried, he would tell him. "I have been told that many times. A rough life, leads to rough around the edges- creature.." His voice trailed off, unsure the wording. An attempt at something comical to derail the situation off so serious seeming questions.

"Do you never feel older than you are?" Though, he felt the answer was already answered by the others questions.

// lol sorry, it won't let me change the color back to white. - mobile
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"Speech"
BoneFang - He/ Him - 20 moons - ShC - penned by Deidre.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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the question is one that makes sense. the answers, even more so. as the leader listens into the conversation, they're not torn from their hunt. they can smell a mouse nearby, and they intended to catch it. just as it moves, with a swift and barely notable movement, they pounce and kill it like it's nothing. it is nothing. this scrawny thing was barely enough to feed a full grown cat but... kits could eat off it. it would fill their bellies enough as they felt curious of the different tastes. with a sigh, they drop the creature from their jaws, placing an ivory paw atop it. they look over to loampelt and bonefang with a huff.

"it's never fun to grow up too fast, sure. it hardens one, but... we need not forget how work and play can go hand in hand. or sometimes, taking a day off benefits one more than we can ever think. it's good for moral, you know. to laugh. or smile."

they insist with a grunt, before picking up the prey and burying it for later.

"it will take time to relearn how to be a kit, but sometimes it will benefit you and those around you."
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