no angst FROM NEW YORK ⸝⸝₊・rotisserie chicken?!

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Paws follow one another awkwardly; they're too far apart from each other to look anything near comfortable, and the distance they travel is short, making Dimmingsun's return to camp a rather short and amusing feat. His head is bent, and what he's holding desperately within his jaws' grasp is being actively pushed into his chest's fur as to not drop it preemptively.

Despite that big muzzle of Dimmingsun, it seems his "prey" is even bigger. A darkened brown-colored trophy - or StarClan knows if it could be called that, but if it really is food (like its scent is suggesting), then it'll feed a number of mouths. Too precious to leave behind without certainty. The taste in his mouth is a strange one, but so far he hadn't felt the need to gag, so that must be a good enough sign. One might call his trek to the nearby Twoleg camp a foolish one, but he is alive and breathing. Good enough.

"I've got- err, something." Dimmingsun announces to whoever might be near to hear. His prized possession hits the ground with a thump, and he tilts his head inquisitively at it. "Smells vaguely like a bird. Anyone want to try it?"

As if on cue - and because he doesn't want to appear like he's intending to sacrifice someone else's taste buds -, Dimmingsun takes a bite. Chews on it longer than necessary, just for good measure. There are way too many things he is tasting, a burst of color behind his eyelids, each too foreign for him to truly place. At least both medicine cats are close by if he gets poisoned for all his troubles.




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  • OOC -
  • DIMMINGSUN ⸝⸝-- WINDCLAN -- HE/HIM -- 32 MOONS
    ✦ Large golden-brown tom with green eyes.
    ✦ Penned by ˏ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙣 ´
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Sootspot's head tilted curiously at the bird that waddled into camp, shortly followed by the uncomfortable-looking cat that carried it. The grooming of mud-flecked fur was soon forgotten in favour of curiosity, slithering closer, the chimera's nostrils flared as he took in the scent of the strange piece of prey. It wasn't... bad, but it was unique, and caution drove the Tunneler to squint at the chicken as if it owed him money. 'I've got something', the other said, and his tufted ears twitched. "A cunning observation," he rasped with a taut smile upon his muzzle. Dimmingsun recognised it as some sort of bird, and begrudgingly, he agreed. Reclining on his haunches, the long-furred tom shook out the fur upon his chest and ran a quick tongue over it as Dimmingsun talked further. When he finished, his chartreuse eyes found the green eyes of the other. "I will allow you to—" Take the first bite. Sootspot stared incredulously as Dimmingsun took a chomp with reckless abandon, a tail so used to lashing at foolishness stunned into stillness. 'Our medicine cats only prolong the lives of mousebrains...' Shaking himself out of his stupor, Sootspot's mask grew less tense. "Before I indulge, I must inquire about where you found this thing."


 
༄༄ Dimmingsun’s announcement is met with perked ears and narrowed golden eyes, the lead warrior pulling herself from her duties to turn her attention to him. He carries a strange object, and it smells like prey. But it does not look like prey, and that brings concern rising to the forefront of Scorchstreak’s mind. The moor runner’s assertion that the thing smells vaguely like a bird does not instill any confidence whatsoever in the lead warrior—if it is a bird, it is one that has been plucked bare and cleaned quite thoroughly. It does not quite look appetizing to her, but it looks juicy, if a bit pale. Dimmingsun then invites herself and Sootspot, as well as anyone else in his close vicinity, to taste test the strange prey, and Scorchstreak is shaking her head in refusal when the dappled tom takes his own bite of the thing.

Sootspot is quick to ask where he’d found the prey, and the calico flicks an ear in his direction. She, too, would like to know. If it is truly good prey, then perhaps they could find more where it came from. And if it turns out to be poison, then they will know where to keep an eye out for other things like it. "I’m sure Wolfsong will have your hide if this makes you sick," she says, and it is meant as a warning more than anything. Surely the medicine cat would be annoyed more than anything if this were to end up being some sort of poison. Taking a bite without knowing exactly what this prey is… what a harebrained thing to do. But dim is in the tom’s name, she supposes.
 
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"GYEH HEH HEH!"

Shrill and pitched into a tumultous giggling storm the wiry black feline ambled forward and barred her teeth at the plucked and strangely scented lump that was claimed to be a bird, "Maybe it WAS one once, in another life! What, are rabbit too good for you or can you not catch them or something?" Mintshade chuffs, spine rippling into pointed black spikes as she circles and leans her nose down to investigate the catch with the same critical eye she gaze to her former apprentices during trainer; pieces of meat that needed a lot of work. It smelt like food but in the same that grass smelled nice - that didn't mean she was about to go grazing like some braying horse or something. A paw lifted and suddenly swung, darting out to slap the offending mound of vaguely avian-shaped flesh and the air echoed with a wet 'plap' of a noise from her hit.
Far be it from her to agree with her least favorite of all the hellions her sister spat out her backside during her lifetime but Sootspot had a point - where did this even come from? Something had to have plucked this and done stuff to it if it was a bird - how did it go from the savory and humble feathered prey to whatever this monstrosity was?
"Eat it, Dimmingsun. If you don't die then the clan will thank you for your gift. If you do then we'll thank you for taking one for the team and bury you with it." Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

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    Mintshade
    —⊰⋅ Warrior (Moor Runner) of WindClan
    —⊰⋅ She/Her
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ SH Solid black cat w/ acid green eyes.

 
Violetkit was, well, still a kitten. She did not have a refined pallet, wasn't raised on blood wetting her tongue and plucking feathers off of birds the same way that the warriors of the Clan were. She was working on it, though! Violetkit was aggressively unimpressed with the time she'd tried to eat a bird though - who wanted to eat feathers?? It'd been a hard transition off of milk onto meat in the first place - prey was pretty... unimpressive on it's own. Whatever was just dragged into camp, though, THAT smelled SUPER GOOD. Violetkit would no doubt eat a can of cat food left out too, if she had access to it. Raw meat was cool and all but something new was WAY cooler.

The dark kitten dashes forward as Dimmingsun drops the mass of meat onto the soil, slipping between the paws of Mintshade and Sootspot as she blazed forward. "WHAT IS IT?" Violetkit questions loudly, sunburst eyes peering up at Dimmingsun held wide open. "Vaguely like a bird", though "vague" was a bit too big for Violetkit's current vocabulary. Violetkit turns to scrutinize the bird-thing with tightly narrowed eyes, spine prickling. Violetkit's back bows up, turning to her side as her tail arches behind her. The fur along her spine bristles thick, tapping her paws at the ground. Mintshade smacks the creature, and Violetkit spits a hiss as she's startled. Violetkit's ears are reclined back toward the other cats, though she listens to absolutely nothing being traded between adults. Violetkit crab-walks toward the chicken, pupils blown wide. "What's it taste like? Is it good? Is it gonna kill you?" Before she can ask "can I have some" as a follow-up thought, the kitten instead takes matters into her own paws and pounces forward. The puffed up Violetkit latches onto the bird and grabs it between her front teeth, grappling widely against it with her front paws. Her back legs kick, little bunny kicks that shred little scraps of meat off the chicken.

Satisfied with her victory (or perhaps too weak to hang on forever), Violetkit slides down and puffs her chest out proud, snatching a gaping mouthful of meat she'd loosened with her claws. A kicker toy that also fed them, truly a kitten's dream. AND it wasn't messy to eat!! Violetkit chews the tough meat, unbothered by the radical change in texture. Why was it pale white... where was the blood... well! It was good! "I killed it! It's safe now!" Violetkit speaks around the food in her mouth, muzzle held proudly high. She places a little paw on the chicken, aiming to bat away a close cat's own paws. Hey - HEY! BACK OFF! It's MINE." It was hers now because she defeated it in combat, and Violetkit DOESN'T share.
  • no ref yet :(
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    violetkit

    she / her, 2 moon old kit of windclan
    a tiny black molly speckled with red and white with sundown eyes
    snakehiss x berrysnap, sister of rosekit, waspkit, and the estranged privetkit
    full length biography
    penned by izanami / @nullmoons
 

Quietpaw couldn't help but stare at Dimmingsun as he displayed his newest catch. The black-and-white Tom was clearly not the bravest, but he really wanted to trust the warrior about the bird he returned with. 'What kind of bird has no feathers?!' He was horrified but mildly intrigued. Regardless of its unfortunate appearance, the smell filled the young Tom's nose, pulling him closer and closer to the small group of cats. This bird had no head or talons unless some monster took it off.

Copying the caution of the other warriors in the group, he held back from taking a bite.
Voiletkit's fierce attack on the featherless bird had given him a bit of confidence to take a swipe at it. Lucky for the bird, it was now defended by little claws. Who had no plans of sharing. Backing off, Quietpaw turned to the golden cat who found the bird."Who,,took the,,head?" Quietpaw murmured with a frown. He wondered how many creatures would just eat the head and leave the body of such a big bird.

 
"Violetkit, away from it at once." Snakehiss' sharp tone slices the air, directed toward his daughter as he regards her with narrowed eyes. He sees that she has already shoveled the pale, tender meat into her small maw, striking alarm and causing him to swiftly prowl over.

Now, the warrior glances down at the brownish hunk; its smell is foreign albeit not necessarily bad. Still, who knows where Dimmingsun got that thing? "Whatever it is, it doesn't smell of the moors." It was strange prey potentially from another territory or even the realm of twolegs. Whatever the case, his daughter was not going to be interacting with it any further. Stars, what if Violetkit fell ill?

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    snakehiss
    he/him; moor runner of windclan
    long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and multiple scars
    father to violetkit, waspkit, cricketkit, and privetkit (duskclan)
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​