her apples are delicious ★ ritual

[Hazelbeam]

Hazel likes SkyClan so far, she has earned quite a number of odd looks for her hat but most of the cats there humor her and she does leave it hanging in camp when she has to go out and patrol or is being taught to hunt so they don't seem to mind it being there as long as she knows when to take it off. At first she didn't like the idea of removing it, but the more she considered the more she realized that some nice shade for her eyes wasn't worth getting it dirty or hung on any foliage while she was out in the woods and so a designated branch in the camp was claimed to hook it over and leave until it was time to go home. Thankfully her hat was easy to put on without her two-legs help even if her ears did get caught under it at times, wedging them into the slots at the top took a lot more effort than she was willing to give so she normally slipped in through the strap and went home to make her owner fix it proper.
Today she is in camp, still wearing her hat, as she had been asked to help clean some nesting and that was a job she could do where the pointed fabric did not intervene. New moss brought in, old moss dragged out, but before she went about putting the new material into dens she figured she might as well make sure it was purified and brought good luck. She did not have any of the odd spices and herbs her two-leg would often sprinkle about but she had crushed some leaves up to toss over the nesting that had a nice minty scent to it. Her next task was gathering enough sticks to form a circle around the bedding, lining them up tip to tip in an awkward ring before finally she stood next to it and clapped her paws together.
"Good times - good times! Only good times! May your sleep be comfy and your dreams divine!"
Maybe it would help less cats get sick too, she could only hope. "...alright...time to make the nests..." Ritual complete, now for the boring part of actually folding and tucking moss into a respectable nest and dragging it back in the dens.​

 

[Dogskip]

Dogskip does not have an opinion on kittypets. They simply have a different method of survival and while it may not be his cup of tea, he does have to wonder what it's like to have a servant that feeds you and cares for you.

He wonders this alongside wondering.... What in the world was Hazel doing.

He's never seen anything like it. He blinks slowly, watching her bless the materials she's gathered with some ritual. His first thought was heresy, but she wasnt putting a curse on them....

So he moves to sit near her, looming over the best materials that have just been blessed.

".....And that's supposed to work?" He asks genuinely.

He hopes so, because as much as he likes to sleep, he often wakes with no energy and from dreams that pain his heart. It would be nice to be at peace.​

 

[edenberry ?!]

It is an intense stare... Unbreaking in its fixation as Hazel moves about to set up her ritual with some new bedding. Sticks all lined up neatly.. .well, not quite but.. .it's impressive to Edenpaw at least. The shape of her mouth moves in recited words, paws moved together in a small noise as if to sanctify it. What an odd little song... so simple. Surely, if she was going through all this effort then, it had to be worth while!

Dogskip does not seem to have nearly as much blind faith in the she-cat as the black and white apprentice does...

Stomping over with a wave of self-assured confidence, Edenpaw came to stop just beside Dogskip with their nose upturned and eyes closed tight. "Well obviously it has to work," they butt in. Winking open an eye to glance at the be-hatted molly, they offer her a small smile before giving up their fake charade of snobbery. "Do you do that for all of them or just yours? Oooooh, actually... can you teach me how to do it! I wanna show the other apprentices later!"

Turning to get a look around camp, they contemplated if they could find a friend right now to share this experience with before looking back at Dogskip, "What about you? You wanna learn too right?"​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

It would be no surprise to anyone to learn that Twitchbolt was, to some level, superstitious. It wasn't even that he exactly believed in misfortune or miasmic, maleficent forces... but he was the type to avoid any risk, just in case. Because there was always that absolutely terrifying possibility- those dreaded what-ifs. And they were not rational. What if walking under a fallen tree somehow disturbed it enough to have it crash and crush him into a paste? What if the sight of one magpie doomed him to eternal sorrow and suffering? What if stepping on a crack in the ground would break the back of his (dead) mother?

Seeing Hazel's activity, her chanted spell, Twitchbolt's expression crumpled into one of one-part curiosity and one-part skepticism It was rather a clashing pair of emotions that reduced his face into a quaking grimace as he wandered over, head tilted. Fending off bad dreams- oh, that would be nice. He didn't have much to follow up the questions that Dogskip and Edenpaw... especially Edenpaw... had asked, and though he parted his voice to say something, nothing really came out. His eyes fell to the ground, where one of the encircling-sticks lay, and he prodded it with a snow-gloved paw. Was it a certain type...?​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[LOSTMOON]

sacrifice , that's what we do for the people we love .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He wondered if seeing a queen ready to pop coming sauntering forward would raise a few brows, but it wasn’t like he cared all that much. Lostmoon never could sit still, waddling around camp to peer into crevices and shout out questions to any nearby warrior when one popped into his head. It was a mundane life, but a lot better than missing his mate and wondering when their next meal would be. He had some little buggers to think about now. It wasn’t just him anymore, but it’d never just been him. Not for a while. Even before he found out he was pregnant.

Blinking, Lostmoon peered around Twitchbolt with a curious twitch of his whiskers. “Whatcha doing?” He inquired, ghostly optics curious. He turned to Dogskip, helm cocked. “Hey! Don’t knock it till you try it, mhm?” He grinned cheekily. Turning to Hazel, Lostmoon hummed, padding closer on aching paws, nose crinkling with a curious chitter. “Never seen something like this before. I’d love to know more if you’re willing! Why this–?” He gestured towards the odd-shaped circle that Twitchbolt prodded. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Hazelbeam]

If Dogskip's sarcasm bothered her at all she didn't show it, turning eagerly to the questions and the enthusiastic apprentice who approached as well.
"I like to think it works! But, well, if it doesn't-then what does it matter?" If it failed then nothing changed and was as it was meant to be and who was she to complain about that? At least that was how Hazel felt about things. Some stuff you could change with effort, other things were as hard to move as a great boulder; lumpen and heavy. Lostmoon asks about the ring of sticks and she claps her paws, eager to explain.
"Circles are important, you know. There's circles in everything, so a circle means something like 'powerful' I like to think." She traces a paw on the ground, digs a little loop into the earth with a scuffed paw and smiles. "The moon is a circle, the sun is a circle, those things are big and strong. Eyes are strong, they see everything and those are also round." She nods, hat flopping with the movement to her lecture that made absolute sense to her but was probably a little jarring to the forest cats. "When I sleep...I like to curl into a circle too. I think it helps." Her blue gaze darts to Twitchbolt, present and silent, and she smiles at him in greeting.
​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Oh, more and more superstitions to add to the pile! He'd become a sponge for them eventually, he was sure. No matter how skeptical he was at first, they always seemed to take hold, becoming some... some little gnawing worry at the back of his mind. "Everything...?" he repeated as if such a fact meant that it was going to kill him, pupils darting all over the place. Circle in the sky, in eyes, in... maybe the way those trees curved, if you looked at it right...

A gaze aquiver shot toward the hat-clad feline, then. "So... theoretically, what happens if you don't sleep in a circle...?" Mahogany features crumpled into a grimace, merely picturing what she might tell him. He was pretty sure he didn't sleep in a circle. No- no way his fur would be so messy if he slept in a neat little ball. He'd have to ask Quillstrike... and maybe request that the chimera force him into a curl while he slept... ​

penned by pin ✧​