pafp Gold dust woman ❧ Discussing collars

[Florabreeze]

The early morning sun twinkled just out of reach of Florabreeze’s eyesight, the greenleaf heat starting to take its place as the sun rises in the sky. It was beyond dawn, herself and the other daylight warriors had been here for a good few hours. Dawn patrols had returned and the day carries on at it’s usual capacity, she finds herself soaking up the sun while it wasn’t too hot. Her long and thick coat clung to her uncomfortably, even though it was thinner now to compensate for the weather compared to how it is during leafbare it still wasn’t pleasant. She found it better to enjoy the cooler sun now and work while it was hot rather than do the opposite. Momowhisker was nearby, she found herself wondering if he found this weather a lot more bearable compared to herself.

As she steals glances at him to try and figure out if he was suffering in this heat or not she finds her eyes catching on his collar. It was a dainty looking thing, golden in colour and reflecting in the sun at certain angles. Her paw grazes her own collar reflexly as she considers his, hers is just as wellkept in maintenance. A repeating mushroom pattern in design was printed across it, no bells or anything eye catching to it. She was happy with that, in her opinion she was loud enough that there really wasn’t any need for a bell to garner attention of her whereabouts.

Her mind drifts to her conversation with Eggshellbloom, the topic of collars had come up with him. How it felt strange not having it around his neck, he related it to that feeling of void between milk teeth falling out and new teeth growing in. It made her realise how prevalent collars were to daylight warriors and yet she hadn’t heard anyone ever talk about it. “Hey Momowhisker I have a question if you have the time!” She called out cheerily as she pushed herself up from where she sat down.

Settling next to him she nodded her head in greeting, a yawn ghosting on her maw. “Your collar, have you had it for long?” The Maine Coon finds herself rocking on her paws as she speaks, swaying to some invisible melody. “I think it’s really pretty, do you think so? If not do you think you’d ever switch it out for another kind?” Would his twolegs even do that? She could swear that they were sometimes more sentimental about her collar than she was over her own and she's the one who's with it every day. As she spoke she idly wondered what the other daylight warriors stances were on their collars, or former daylight warriors- warriors who were once kittypets, did they also have many thoughts on this?

‎‎ ‎From far away 𖧧 Stays for a day ‎

• 
  @MOMOWHISKER
  
•  
• 
  SkyClan Daylight Warrior⏐ She / Her ⏐ Info
  ❥ A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can.
  ❥ 33 moons old { Ages realistically on the 12th per month }
  ❥ Mentored by Sorrelsong
  ❥ “Speech”, thoughts, attacking
  ❥ Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}

​

 

[MOMOWHISKER]

The Oriental Shorthair, whose soft fur seemingly remained flat even under distress, did not find Greenleaf as much of a struggle compared to his long-furred clanmates. Watching his clanmates, Momowhisker had learned that many of the former kittypets and Daylight Warriors had pelts thicker than a bear's skin, a likely factor that contributed to the disapproval his family felt towards them - there was an otherness to the ratlike tails, wedge-shaped heads and thin hairs that, instead of driving his mother and father to feel inferior, made them feel better in their uniqueness instead. Even attempting to understand the complex caused an uneasy feeling to grow in his gut, large, blue eyes scouting the camp before him as he watched his fluffy clanmates struggle. One such fluffy clanmate began moving towards him as if she sensed his inner monologue, Momowhisker's ears initially pointing upwards in alarm at the possibility. A question was posed, answered with a readily, "Hmm? Oh, of course!" Only after that did it become evident that Florabreeze was no mind-reader.

Instead, she asked about his collar, the weight around his neck he'd grown so used to it was like it wasn't even there. A gold coating sparkled in the sun like a contemporary vampire, with little silver knobs evenly spread across the overly expensive accessory. A smile reached his muzzle. "Yeah, since I stopped growing. I had one before that was like... super gross feeling. Turns out it was too big for my neck, they got one with a snugger fit after that." A blue-tipped paw pointed dramatically towards the aforementioned 'snugger' collar, fixed around his neck like a near-permanent staple of the tom. Its only flaw was making him a target on border patrols, as if none of his attempts to be liked by the other clans mattered because of the accessory. It was hurtful, but not hurtful enough to forsake the collar entirely. He beamed at the compliment, tilting his head to show it off more clearly to his friend. "Thank you! I think so too, it's a little... ostentatious, but I like it anyway. I don't think I'd have another one. It's a part of home I wouldn't want to part from." He blinked, and a momentary lapse of sadness entered his deep blue eyes. He would never be able to accessorise in SkyClan the same way, even a thoughtful feather or leaf would be plucked out of his fur and thrown to the carrion-can before he could even protest.

Momowhisker shook the feeling off, resting on his haunches and leaning closer to the Maine Coon. "What about you? " He tilted his head with a sincere curiosity, even if it was meant to distract from his own thoughts. "Your collar is really cute with those little mushrooms on it. What would happen if your Twolegs gave you like... a black collar with spikes on it instead? How would it make you feel?"

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Something that he and Blaise have never shared with those of their same origin was the fastening of fabric around necks. At times, they were dingy things, able to be snapped with the clasp of fangs and a viscious tug. Others were... lavish, or perhaps whatever the twoleg ideal of lavish was. With technicolors and thick material... able to have you caught on a branch and take your neck with it before it would dare to break... Time and time again, he's seen SkyClanners yearn for nothing more than for it to be off, and he would always pick up the scraps... Ah, right place at the right time. they drape over his paws more nicely that cobweb ever would. The fools that housefolk were, it took denial of the fullest to say they never created anything admirable.

He couldn't afford to long for his own gleaming thing fastened around his neck — perhaps the sort with a sliver of silver, or those other things that sounded like star - chimes when you walked... Because of what they represented, that was. Mother allowed him to speak into floors — not into twolegs, but they had a logic to them, even if it was primitive... Over time, he has sewn the pieces together. He's found a rather prevelent thing that seperates him from from paltry twoleg-folk. grimace casts something critical upon the wayward soul.

" Does it bother you? " he questions, winding his way toward them on spotless paws. The objects of their desire, wrapped snugly round their throats, would be eyed with a keen voracity. A white - and - red tail-tip flickers idly. Claws itch with the desire to pluck them off of the two, themselves... He ponders if Blaise would've ever left, had they bound him like property the way that they do... " That they think they own you so? " A stark difference between those who had twolegs, and those whose twolegs had them...​

 

[Chickbloom]

The Scottish Fold never struggled much with the heat. In fact, his pelt burned more often thanks to anxiety than exertion. When the whelp had his collar removed, he wondered if it would make him colder. There were still a fair few moons to go before he could come to a conclusion, but so far the most noticeable change was the way his fur stood on end whenever the breeze hit his neck.

Yes, Eggshellbloom was still getting used to what Dawnglare would call ‘freedom’. Some nights he regretted it, rubbing his fur against the strap of leather tucked safely in his nest to try and emulate how it felt, but the morning always brought fresh perspective that made him feel foolish. Listening to Florabreeze and Momowhisker today, though, the warrior felt that familiar phantom tightness around his neck.

“I - Uh - I never noticed h-how cute your collars are. Mine was - y’know - just black, but I’d prefer that over s-spikes, personally…” For a moment the boy considered scampering away to fetch it, like the last person at show-and-tell, but decided against it once Dawnglare slithered forwards.

The creepy medicine cat’s words reminded Eggshell of what Kurt had said a few weeks before. Both had a misguided notion of what ownership was, in the warrior’s opinion. “It’s a way to - um, y’know - s-show they care, I think…” The former kittypet interjected, too scared of Dawnglare to even make eye contact, let alone elaborate .​