camp Freedom Song || relaxing

[TIGERSCAR]

BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS​

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He'd been shut in for the weekend, but at last Tigerscar had returned, and with a key difference from the previous week. The bulky cone-of-shame was a thing of the past. No longer did he have to wear it around his neck! His folks had finally removed it, leaving him feeling better than ever, perhaps. His stiches had dissolved in the two weeks he'd spent healing, and he hardly had a scar where the rogues had battered him. Now, with his signature rainbow collar back around his neck, Tigerscar could finally return to his usual duties in SkyClan. He makes a show of catching a robin before his return, as a means to demonstrate that he hadn't forgotten how to hunt in the two weeks he'd been stuck in that e-collar.

Returning to camp with the small bird within his jaws, Tigerscar drops it upon the fresh-kill pile and takes a seat nearby to begin his daily grooming ritual, quietly waiting to be noticed by his clan-mates as they go about their business.
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[TWITCHBOLT]

Tigerscar's collar was a garish looking device, but at least it was no worse than the horrible... enclosure that his big head had been trapped in for the last week or so. When Twitchbolt caught the daylight warrior's pelt out of the corner of his eye, he was struck with a very distinctive wave of relief. He'd not have to wonder about whether Tigerscar's skull was going to be squeezed off his shoulders and go rolling into the darkness. He'd not have to worry that cone would somehow suffocate him, or snag on something and wrench his neck in just the wrong way, or...

"They finally got that, that... thing off you, then?" Twitchbolt grimaced as he recalled the memory of it, a towering and compressing-looking thing. Like some Twoleg trap or torture device. Daylight warriors had bigger hearts than he, to love creatures who'd have done that to you...​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Slate did not tend to bat an eye when the daylight warriors went days or even weeks without returning to SkyClan's camp. It was always safe to assume that their twoleg masters had gotten ahold of them, barring them from their freedoms for who knows how long. The thought of ownership by bipdeals disgusted Slate and he would rather be dead than be subjected to their control.

Twitchbolt stirred the lead warrior's attention, his amber gaze flicking toward Tigerscar who seemed to be looking normal again. Any longer with that strange device around his neck and Slate would have torn it off himself so he wouldn't have to bear witness. It was less stupid-looking than the rainbow collar, he supposed. "Good. It looked ridiculous." Slate rumbled with a flick of his tail.

The gruff Maine Coon was not intent on staying to chat for long ( when was he ever? ) but he could not help but think aloud, "What're those things even for, anyway?"

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

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  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[TIGERSCAR]

BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS​

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"Sure did!" He beams toward Twitchbolt in swift, cheery reply. "I can feel the wind in my fur again." The brute purrs, clearly delighted to have the bulky e-collar off of his neck. He's quite fond of the spiked rainbow collar that adorns his well groomed form, but that cone had been a cursed thing. He had been denied patrols because of it. He hadn't been able to hunt. If the other clans had seen such a device, they'd have cackled at the very sight of him! One-eyed focus shifts to the similarly massive, long-furred figure of Slate as Tigerscar nods in agreement.

"I think they were to stop me from licking my wounds from those rogues." He considers thoughtfully. "But who knows for sure. Twolegs can be weird, sometimes. We can only guess!"
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[TATTEREDLIGHT]

just because i carry it so well doesn't mean it's not heavy .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His gaze widened, seeing Tigerstar no longer bearing that weird twoleg contraption. The other must be excited, the tone of voice beaming. He chuckled behind a paw, claw tips pressed against tender lips to hide the crinkled amusement. He only saw a few in passing, not nearly as frequent near the endless rows of nests than the brightly lit buildings that smelt of twoleg food, digging through metal bins in search of something to feel his stomach for the night. He hummed, gaze narrowing. I don’t think I’ll miss that. Sure. Prey wasn’t always plentiful, but now he kept his paws busy.

“You’re probably right!” He chirped, grinning at the others in a silent hello. “I’m sure you’re happy to return to normal duties.” He added with a soft laugh, tail flickering. ​

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thought speech​