camp GOOD OMENS / bats


There was the promise of a dark and stormy night peeking over ShadowClan's horizon and Ferndance pointed her nose towards the earth in hopes she would not have to catch more of the stench of moisture in the air. It was different from the damp of the earth, a promise of a sodden patrol and scent markers so faded that the cinnamon tabby would not be able to make heads or tails of the trees. A rare smidge of loneliness danced across the Lead Warrior's features before being buried beneath a layer of seeming indifference. She did not have time to be lonely. With so much time to dance and patrol and sing and make trouble and make amends, it would be ridiculous to sacrifice the fun for a moment of self-reflection. As if agreeing with her statement, the sky answered with a distraction. Dancing across the grey bedding were dark shapes, quick as lightning bolts. Pupils widened immediately into interested orbs. Ferndance darted her head left and right, entering a hunter's crouch from her seated position and trying her best to track one of the shapes.

In a blur, she swore she made out a leathery wing and fat body. It landed on a tree for a blink's worth of time before rejoining its swarm to hunt Stars knows what. "Bats," Ferndance breathed, voice interrupted by the 'eek eek' of the little critters flying overhead. Moons had passed since she had last encountered the creatures; perhaps in a cave; perhaps up a tree; the details had faded like an elder's colours from the Lead Warrior's brain. She tilted her head, brow wrinkled in frustration, as she tried to remember anything about them. It di not take long for the tabby's brain to find a connection. "Mice with wings," she affirmed confidently, her tail curled tightly over her odd-coloured paws. "Or was it voles? It is some little critter who grew their wings after slaying a beast most foul." Silently, Ferndance wondered if mice that killed cats would be the biggest bats of the bunch - even if creatures crumbled like leaf litter, it was no small feat for a little thing to slay a giant. Adamant in her own story, the tabby bowed her head in respect to the frantically flying chiropterans, stifling a giggle at the sudden shift in tone from the squeaking animals - that must've meant they respected her back, right?


 
Garlicpaw plods around camp as if she were soggy and wet. And she is. With GRIEF AND MISERY. Her heart hurts and she struggles through most days now that her mother is gone. She can't stop thinking about it. There's just no light in the world anymore. Her perfect family is no longer perfect. But tonight is different. There are strange creatures in the sky.... She can't make out what they are. They aren't birds.... If they are, they're kind of fucked up.

No, these things have strange wings. What beast has wandered into the swamp?

As she looks up in wonder and confusion, She hears Ferndance speak. Bats....That's what those are? They look.....So strange. Like flying, no tailed mice. She's never seen wings like these before. She thought wings were supposed to be feathered. What a weird creature. And the squeaks! Surely its some kind of flying rodent, right?

Ferndance isn't done speaking though, and says the same as she had been thinking. And to top it off, she says that they defeated some great beast to earn their wings!

She gasps in awe. "Wooaaah...Reallyyy??" Her eyes are full of wonder and curiosity. "Thats so cool!! Does that make them hard to catch??" She asks. Surely such a formidable rodent would make an excellent meal.

She feels blessed to partake of Ferndance's wisdom....She hopes to be just as smart one day.​
 
———————————she/her | menacing ——————————
Bats. She knew cats with the namesake- and oft, they were like birds amongst trees. At least, the one she knew of, anyways. Some guy in Thunderclan with too many jokes to count, oft more then not. Hearing the squeaking caused her to life her vision, watching the rodents with wings flit overhead. A soft breath left her and she padded towards Ferndance, standing next to the lead warrior- a friend, she considered, anyways.

Her vision shifted towards Garlicpaw. A soft smile touched her face. A distraction, something that they all needed, and she was sure those who were direct family of the recently deceased needed it most of all. Orange eyes shifted back towards the dimming sky, where ink-black figures tore across the sky with soft and dim blue as a backdrop. And when she spoke, she sounded like she was somewhere far away. Better times, probably.

"They're hard to catch anyways. They rarely find ground, because they're vulnerable down here and they know it." Scalejaw offered quietly. Her vision lowered back towards Garlicpaw with an amused chuff. "If you're swift enough, and know how to climb, getting them on the end of tree branches is the easiest way." Not that she'd really recommend it, anyways.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].
 

Garlicpaw's enthusiasm and awe were ambrosia to the Lead Warrior. Death had had its cold stranglehold on the marsh clan since Ferndance had arrived, many already acted as if they had one foot in StarClan, it was refreshing to know that grief did not taint the apprentice's mind all the time. She was happy to be a distraction. "Oh yes," she affirmed with an all-too-serious nod of the head, doubt hidden behind an impish smile. Mice have teeth, bats have teeth, it was a good conclusion. By the same logic, that made cats bats and mice lice, but the rules were all made-up and logic was a sham, she need not think too hard on any complications. Scalejaw chimed in to agree that they were difficult to catch and Ferndance found herself without a contrary joke. Hunting was one of her specialties, be it a little rodent or a warrior from another clan, she seldom found the need to mince the facts when it was something she was so passionate about.

Scalejaw refreshed the tabby's memory, her lazy ears suddenly springing forward as old information came to light. She blinked furiously; who between her mama and papa had told her how to hunt such creatures? Both were competent hunters, but the longer she thought, the more she imagined a black shape and a grin that squirmed like a trapped worm. "What you can do little Garlic Patch..." Ferndance started off, a breathy voice taking on a more informative tone. "Is you can find their camp, stand up on your back legs and swat at any that come to and from. Or, if you're confident, leap up and snatch them right out of the air!" Her claws shot out and dug into the mud at her exclamation, tail lashing as if giving warning that she was about to strike. If ShadowClan could find where these flying mice were roosted, then it would solve their hunger pangs rather readily.