GRADE: BLEMISHED ❦ intro / fried chicken

primrosejaw

carnis.
Apr 15, 2024
6
0
1
The world is painfully routine today. Everything is so familiar it makes her back teeth ache; the swamp drips green and ruddy - brown around her, a chorus of buzzing flies and croaking frogs and writhing flesh. The sky sinks towards dusk, bloody red that matches the singed skin along her shoulders and the rabbit tear - tracks down her cheeks, pink eyes gluey with familiar tears from those red rays. Scarred jaws are set in a defiant line, crooked teeth gritted determinately as the patrol stumbles along the edge of the Thunderpath, the air stinking of acrid fumes.

One of them roars past and she coughs wetly through the cloud it leaves behind, lungs aching with the stink in the air. Something thumps hard against the dimples of her ribs and she skitters back, eyes prey - animal wide, tail bushed out to double its size, a mound of tawny - and - white fur spiked behind her. Crowded fangs are bared towards the strange thing and nostrils flare, fur spikes into spires clustered around her shoulders—the thing stinks of Twoleg, of Thunderpath, but also of meat.

Rich, slightly artificial odors waft out from the crumpled brown thing and she aims a cautionary swipe at it, colorless claws rending its strange skin open in a matter of seconds. Out of it spills crusted auburn things that stink of flesh, half - tipped containers of yellow lumps and brown - white smears. Primrosejaw's heavy tail lashes once, twice, and she stares wide - eyed at her patrolmates, trying to figure out what is right to do. What is right to say. She settles for a cautious, " What is that? "

// someone threw some KFC out of their car


" speech "

 
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For what it's worth, Mirepurr really did try to stifle their disgust at the stench radiating from the Thunderpath. They've patrolled on this side (as any other) more times than they could possibly count by now, but the smell here is too strong for their sensitive nose, creating wrinkles along their muzzle as they find themself snarling at it without meaning to. At least Primrosejaw seems to cough in agreement.

They don't see the thing being flung from the opaque side of the monster in time to warn her. Mirepurr almost trips over their own legs as they stand back, heart skipping a beat when Primrosejaw's side is hit. Would it wound her? Their ears press against their skull in preparation for a pained yowl, the dark behind their eyelids already projecting images of Twolegs climbing out of the monster, naked paws aiming to grab her- but none of that ever comes, despite the fuss she is kicking up over the experience.

Mirepurr stalks closer, inspecting not only their Clanmate but the strange object. Strong smells waft off it, too, and they wouldn't be surprised if all this overwhelms them and sends them into an early sleep due to a migraine.

A sniff at a glance tells them Primrosejaw is indeed not bleeding. It's relief enough, but her curiosity is piqued - and Mirepurr doesn't have the answers.

"Do Twolegs eat meat?" they wonder aloud. "Surely they wouldn't just throw out their own food?" Even as they say it, disbelief coats their words. These creatures are strange enough that anything is possible... maybe they're experiencing a burst of food abundance just like ShadowClan?



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  • MIREPURR SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR
    ────── THEY/THEM ✦ PENNED BY KARMEN ✦ 04/15
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[ ༻❄༺ ] Thunderpath scent was never a pleasant one, and Snowpaw doubt they'd ever get used to it, and yet Shadowclan's marshes was full of stench to the point the apprentice tried hard not to scrunch their nose or made it obvious of their distaste of the thunderpath scent. Yellow gaze watch as something was tossed out of a monster's window and smacking Primrosejaw, and Snowpaw almost had to choke down the laughter (because of the thudding sound). Mirepurr and the she-cat were quick to explore while the strange scent wafted her nostrils making her scrunch her face slightly.

"Food is food, I suppose... should we bring this back to camp?" the apprentice prompted calmly before beginning to prod at the weird lumps of meat, wondering how it even tasted like. Or...maybe it was bad, why else would a two-leg throw food out of the monster with little to no care? "Do any of you want to try it?" she prompted calmly looking at the other with curiosity.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw She/Her, apprentice of Shadowclan, 8 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.


Mentor tag @Scorchedmoon ))
 
જ➶ He doesn't even know why he is here. He didn't want to come on this patrol. Truly he wanted to stay back at camp and actually finish grooming his pelt. But now that precious time is being taken up by this menial task. Ugh, he especially hates being anywhere near the smelly black strip of tar that the twolegs house their vicious monsters on. Only because the stench leaks. Vile and untethered, seeping into paws and fur like a leech. It's disgusting and he wants to gag at the sight of it. No, at the smell of it. Dainty paws shift across the muck, easily tracing a path along the driest areas. Unamused olivine orbs glimmer in the coming dusk as he watches the area. "Let's just get this over with as quick as possible, please." He is liable to lose his dinner as he follows a well trained path onlu to jolt back when a monster passes and something is flung at them. His eyes widen and he is quick to put distance between himself and whatever it is.

The smell itself is off putting to him and he looks aghast as Primerosejaw even decides to touch it. "The fact that you'd touch it says a lot. Leave it be. You'll have to wash your paws later." Of that he is certain. Mirepurr gets closer but personally he keeps himself far away from whatever that twoleg food is supposed to be. His muzzle scrunches up then and he shakes his head a little before his gaze focuses sharply on Snowpaw. "Absolutely not! We don't need it anyway, our prey is running just fine and I'm not about to put my mouth anywhere where a twolegs saliva has been. Can we just leave it."
 
had this happened just a few moons ago, they'd had been scrambling to take the twoleg prey and practically fighting over who gets to eat it first. but they're not that desperate right now, that they know. with the frogs hopping and croaking happily, easy prey for the pickings, there was no need to feel so desperate to be fed. and they didn't want to stoop so low as to eating twoleg trash if they didn't have to. they would pass. and they were absolutely going to encourage their clan to do the same. last thing they needed is for them to get sick for eating something unusual.

"not a good idea. stars know what kind of sickness twolegs carry and I would rather not have another outbreak stemming from shadowclan across all four clans because we got a little too curious with their... weird prey."

chilledstar was not going to be deemed responsible for another yellowcough–like disease killing off all of the clans, causing yet another journey. they didn't need that at all. and they certainly didn't want to deal with cats being sick for eating weird things from monsters.

———————---***ALL OF MY FEELINGS ARE GONE***———————---

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  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
    45 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking / looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
❝ TROUBLES WILL COME & THEY WILL PASS ❞

The chimera despised going even remotely close to the Thunderpath, but here he was, standing near it with his patrolmates. Here he was, watching his patrolmates mess with... something. He agreed with Marshroot and Chilledstar - not touching it, not eating it. They were fine. It wasn't to say that he had no interest in the strange food items. They were weird and unique. Squinting his eyes from the distance he stood, he tried to examine them, but to no success. There's no point in examining them anyway, he had clanmates swarming around the stuff currently. "Why would they eat that?" Mourningbloom asked. "It doesn't look safe."
༺♰༻
 
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Chilledstar comes to the rescue, voicing what Mirepurr is thinking but with an air of authority that cannot possibly be overridden. Actually tasting the weird stuff has always been out of the question. Perhaps they'd enjoy the taste and nobody would get sick from it, but there is no point in taking such chances - plus, eating Twoleg food sounds way too similar to being a kittypet. At that point they might as well give up hunting mice and frogs.

"They probably think that about our own food," Mirepurr muses upon Mourningbloom's prompt. Whether those strange creatures care enough about the cats of the forest to notice what they eat is up to debate, but hey.

A pondering gaze sweeps over the territory around them. "Should we... try to bury it? Throw it back to the Thunderpath? If our prey starts eating from this, we all might get sick anyway."



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  • 8Xs7ngd.png
  • MIREPURR SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR
    ────── THEY/THEM ✦ PENNED BY KARMEN ✦ 04/15
  •