friends and family make up a fertile wood at heart // grooming/sharing tongues

curlewnose

anything can happen if you want it enough
Jan 5, 2023
53
13
8

"leave those snails alone, they've got problems of their own"

He’d been spending more and more time in the tunnels as the chill stuck to the moors, but now Curlewnose felt the warm air draft into his makeshift den in the earth’s embrace. Closing one eye, the tom tentatively moved towards the light, waiting for his open eye to adjust before blinking. The moors were bright, sky matching the muddy snow on the ground. Curlew shook out his fur, taking a deep breath of cool air, then hacking up brown-tinged saliva. Should probably talk to Vulturemask about that. He then thought of the new medicine cat and his domineering behavior. Maybe it can wait…

Padding into camp, Curlewnose looked around to take in the state of his clanmates. Sootstar’s kits had been born a few nights ago, and now he saw the tiny things clambering across their mother’s kingdom. The sight made the bicolor grin; it was good to see the joyful little kits in such dreary weather.

The tom settled down to the side of the clearing and began to lick the dirt from his fur. After a few days underground, his blue and white coat looked brown. Each stroke removed more grime, and slowly Curlew found himself feeling like a cat again rather than a mole. Perhaps his mother named him wrong and he should have been Molenose instead! He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest as he cleaned more of his fur and watched the newest additions to the clan.

✦ ★ ✦
 

New life at the expense of old, it never seemed particularly fair, did it? Snailpaw held no ill will to the kittens, but knowing what had been lost just before they were born, he couldn't help but feel like they were supposed to be replacements for good warriors, one of which had been a source of inspiration for the tabby. Tired eyes scanned the camp, settling quickly on a tunneler who looked like he hadn't seen the sun in moons. Perhaps that statement was more accurate than they gave it credit for. Curlewnose wasn't someone the tabby knew much about other than the fact that they had Rainpaw for an apprentice. Stars, that must have been easy, Snailpaw had never met a harder worker than their best friend. Their own training had come to a halt again, the promise of their delayed promotion ripped away by another argument about prior events. They gave Curlewnose a nervous once over, and steeling the emotions that'd pestered them for days, they offered the tunneler a contrived smile. "Woah that looks like a lotta cleaning to do!" They exclaimed the obvious, enthusiasm eventually finding their voice. As much as they lamented not being a tunneler nowadays, it at least meant that their fur wouldn't look like that,

Snailpaw hopped closer, their eyes not following where Curlew was looking for fear they'd find something equally as horrific as they had done the other day. 'Focus on what's in front of you. Pretend everything is fine'. There's a twinkle in chronically fatigued eyes as they lift their head, the apprentice reclining on their haunches with the grace of a drowning cat. "Y'know, my ma would've given me some advice in a time like this! Well technically I don't think she would she kinda doesn't speak to me anymore but not the point. Point is if you don't wanna have to clean your coat so much, maybe.... don't get it dirty?" They understood it was advice that Curlew probably hadn't heard before, but they did not sound sarcastic or haughty as they spoke it. There was sincerity in their tone, laced with every inflection and story regardless of how sad or amusing it would be to the rest of the clan. Snailpaw looked at their own fur, less well-maintained than usual, still telling the tale of a cat who didn't do much - they gave their chest fur a lazy lick.




 
Normally they stick to the tunnels, observing the camp from one of the shadowy entrances. They don’t avoid the openness of camp, not truly, but they can’t help but feel exposed with only the clear sky stretching overhead. They’ve been more present in camp as of late, though; perhaps it’s protective instinct that drives the need to keep a blazing eye on all their clanmates, or perhaps it’s hope that they’ll spot any more traitors before they get the chance to enact their treachery.

Today, Scorchstreak watches Curlewnose clean himself, wondering why the tom bothers when they’re just bound to get dirty again as soon as they go back into the tunnels. When Snailpaw offers their advice not to get dirty in the first place, Scorchstreak shoots the apprentice a curious glance. She looks down at her own pelt, flanks flecked with dirt and chest fur streaked with drying mud. For a moment, self-consciousness washes over her, but she shakes it off with a flick of her tail. As a tunneler, it’s not something that can be helped. It’s a shame they don’t have a river to wash off in—the creation of territory boundaries across what was once her home means that she’s been cut off from easy-to-access flowing water, and grooming herself feels near impossible without it.

"Do you mind if I help?" She asks the other tunneler, slinking closer to him. Curlewnose seems a good enough warrior, loyal to the clan and not terribly outspoken. Regretfully, Scorchstreak doesn’t know a lot about him, but it has only been a few months since she’s joined the clan, so she is working on growing closer to each of her clanmates.
[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]
 

While some part of him, buried in the unreachable depths of his bone-marrow, lamented that he was too big to be a tunneller... sometimes seeing the hardships of the ground-dwelling warriors made his grateful for his unwieldy size. Though he was slow and large, he certainly got less much between his furs... only the odd dust-spray or spatter of prey-blood from one of his many escapades. Never ill-groomed, Mallowlark did surprisingly set aside some time to keep himself relatively clean. Some days he missed a little scarlet spot... but recently he had found himself a little more conscious of looking presentable. Well- in the pelt department, at least. Unaware there was anything off about his eternal too-large grin, he'd done nothing to shift that around.

Joining the small group- though, he did not share his grooming 'skills' for anyone else, resolved to keep them for those who were worthy- Mallowlark unceremoniously plopped himself down, a tongue slipping out from between dog-fangs and swiping over one of his night-dipped paws. "Oh, it's too easy to get covered in crap in leaf-bare!" he sang in humorous response to Snailpaw's advice. It was not so simple to avoid getting dirty!
PENNED BY PIN
 


dfkjvp3-d66fda25-9d8d-4dbd-9a5f-d235254b8f50.gif
Departing the nursery after checking in on her kittens, Sootstar plops herself down in a popular social spot within camp and begins to groom at her own fur. It was nothing to outrageous, just a couple of knots created while she slumbered and a few out of place tufts. Nothing like the dirt and grime cacked on Curlew's fur nearby, Sootstar knows how he feels far too well being a tunneler herself. Once she recovered from pregnancy the first thing she wanted to do was dive back in, catch a rabbit, she couldn't wait to be underground again.

She scoffs light-heartedly when overhearing Snailpaw's advice and keeps her maw shut long enough for Mallowlark to get his own words in. "And on top of that he's a tunneler. His job is to rub along dirt walls." She calls over in light humor. Oh, moor runners...!

57376414_z9vtUtAYThkuXA6.png

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )

57376371_qgIErNkkmbCZArJ_6.png
╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 34 moons . pisces. ages on the first
╰ ‣ windclan leader . marsh-born . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former soldier of the marsh group

57376371_qgIErNkkmbCZArJ_3.png
╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like heather and wet dirt , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue smoke . scarred chest, difficult to see through fur . green eyes


57376371_qgIErNkkmbCZArJ_4.png
╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Cunning, brash, fierce, confident, self-reliant, envious & selfish
╰ ‣ finds great difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, usually shows mercy to those she can find sympathy with
╰ ‣ sole key to her heart is loyalty, if you have her trust, she often shows a completely different side of herself. Aggression tends to manifest from her extreme paranoia
╰ ‣ Appreciates titles such as "miss, m'am" etc

57376371_qgIErNkkmbCZArJ_5.png
╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· SOOT CLAW x PEBBLE BREEZE, sister to Pebblenose
╰ ‣ heterosexual. mate to Weaselclaw
╰ ‣ mother to Windpaw & Sootpaw
╰ ‣ mentor to Smokepaw & Coyotepaw
╰ ‣ average fighter . skilled hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.
 
Weaselclaw is back from a brief border patrol -- no, not RiverClan's border, thank you; he's been carefully kept away from that one -- and he feels he's earned a brief rest with his Clanmates. The tabby plops beside Sootstar, who is grooming her own fur. Two of the tunnelers are nearby, Curlewnose almost black-pelted because of all the grime in his coat. The lead warrior's nose crinkles with amusement; he leans to help Sootstar groom her thick, beautiful dark blue fur and makes a pretend grossed-out face as he does so. "If your mate is a tunneler, you get used to the constant taste of dirt in your mouth," he jokes, giving her an affectionate glance. "We moor runners don't have that problem..."

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
Upon spotting a group of his Clanmates - including Curlewnose, which made his heart do a little skip of excitement for reasons he did not understand - Badgermoon abandoned his solo grooming of his scarred chest and trotted over, tail held upright in greeting. He arrived just in time to hear Weaselclaw's teasing remark and grinned a little, appreciating the easy affection between the leader and her mate; for a single moment he tried to imagine what it would be like to groom the grime of the day out of someone's coat, perhaps out of a certain tunneler's blue-patched pelt...? But he twitched one white-tipped ear, dismissing the thought, and continued to rasp his tongue along the pinkish curvature of his chest scars. "I'd take dirt over fish any day. RiverClanners must be miserable to groom." remarked the bicolor tom with a short snicker, his moon-yellow eyes flashing with merriment.
 

"leave those snails alone, they've got problems of their own"

Curlew was surprised by the number of cats who joined him, but took comfort in their company. Snailpaw was first. The tunneler had never seen the young cat so tired. He made a mental note to ask Rainpaw later; the two of them were close if he remembered correctly. For now, he would brush a half-clean tail over the top of their head if they would let him. At their suggestion he chuckled. ”It’s hard to not get dirty when you’re surrounded by dirt!”

When Scorchstreak came along, the bicolor happily took her help removing the toughest bits of mud and grime. ”Thank you very much,” he murmured before gesturing to the patch of mud along her chest. ”Would you like help with that? I find the more mud I get in my fur, the tougher it is to get out.”

Mallowlark and Sootstar’s light jokes cause Curlew to snort in a very undignified way, though no one in the clan would think this cat obsessed with bad puns and rocks was dignified in the first place. ”Personally, I like the feeling of dirt up against my fur! Much better than that damp you moor runners get covered in!” He shot Weaselclaw a wide grin and gave his leader a little wink, tunneler to tunneler.

Oh. Badgermoon’s eyes glittered when he laughed, and Curlewnose felt his stomach tie into knots. The deputy was so handsome, fur slicked back mid-groom. For the first time, the blue-and-white tom felt sheepish about his muddy pelt. His belly felt warm as he laughed at the cat’s joke, and his eyes lingered longer than normal before he continued to remove the muck left behind by the tunnels.

✦ ★ ✦
 
Scorchstreak settles and quickly gets to work, rasping her tongue over the messy, dirty fur in dire need of a grooming. She doesn’t mind it, really; she’s used to cleaning her own muddy pelt on occasion—and she cares for her clanmates. Curlewnose is a capable tunneler, and deserves to have a clean pelt at the end of the day, no matter whether he minds it. "Of course. Thank you," she accepts the tom’s offer to clean her patched fur with a smile.

Scorchstreak listens idly to the conversations around her, content to pay only half attention to the voices of her clanmates as she focuses on cleaning a particularly difficult spot of dirt on Curlewnose’s fur. Sootstar and her mate poke fun at one another for their chosen paths—moor runner versus tunneler, light jests tossed harmlessly at one another. "I much prefer the dirt to the open sky." She looks up from her task for a moment to see the faces of everyone around them, and manages to catch the tail end of Curlewnose’s stare toward the deputy. Her laugh is thankfully muffled by a black paw that she raises to her own muzzle. She isn’t one to meddle in or care about the affairs of her clanmates, but she can’t say she doesn’t find that amusing, whatever it is.
[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]
 
❪ TAGS ❫ — If anyone was going to march over and interrupt a lighthearted conversation, it was certainly going to be Snakepaw. The young tom always seemed to have a snarky comment to make no matter the situation. Even at a young age, he was quite opinionated about things. There were times when Snakepaw managed to relax and enjoy himself, though unfortunately that was not usually the case in the presence of his clanmates. Some of them were outright irritating, and the tunnelers were no different. The brat was still young and quite naive about things, always failing to see why tunnelers were so special. All they did was track dirt all over the nests and run under the earth like moles!

He doesn't say anything at first as he lingers in the background of the gathered group, only listening to what the adults have to say. Snakepaw cannot help but scoff as Curlewnose and Scorchstreak actually claim to like being covered in soil. "Don't waste your breath trying to make being covered in dirt sound enjoyable. It's not." He harumphs, speaking his mind whether his opinion was wanted or not ( as per usual ).

Badgermoon brings up RiverClanners, to which the black tom wrinkles his nose at the very thought of them. Why would anyone want to eat smelly, slimy fish? Yuck! It was a good thing that WindClan secured the best territory out of all the clans, and that they didn't have to get stuck with a river full of stinky prey. "RiverClanners stink. They stink the most, even worse than SkyClanners." And that was saying something, considering that the SkyClanners he's met reeked of twolegs and kittypet slop. He has only been to a few gatherings, which was pretty much his only exposure to cats from other clans thus far, but he could confidently say that RiverClanners tended to stink up the place fast. Ugh, fishbrains.