no angst HOT FISH POTATO [fishing fail]

[SANDPELT]

ꕀꕀ Fishing with one eye isn’t as easy as it had been before. He’d been a good fisher when he was an apprentice—a great one, even. When he saw a fish he wanted, he almost always caught it. He made his parents proud, and was right on track to be a warrior. Maybe he would have become a warrior early, too. That would’ve been something amazing to hold over Cicadapaw’s head.

Sandpelt has moved on from his injury for the most part, coming to terms with his slow adjustment. He’s… ugly now, of course. He knows it’s irrational to worry so much about how he looks, since his scar isn’t even as bad as Beefang’s—but his parents had always been so proud of how delicate and pretty he’d looked. The picture of a perfect RiverClanner, with perfect dandelion-yellow eyes and a pristine, scarless coat. He catches his own gaze in the river’s reflection, and scowls down at it. When he spots the glimmer of a fish’s scales beneath the surface, his paw strikes directly into the center of his reflection’s face. But when he slings the fish onto the shore, his claws don’t stick properly in the scales. "Wha-" Unable to get a grip on it, the fish is batted back and forth between his paws for a few heartbeats before finally, finally-

The fish flops out of his paws and into the air, droplets of water flying off its scales as it sails in a high arc. A cream paw lashes out in an attempt to capture it again, but—stupid depth perception! His paw falls just short of the fish’s flailing body, and he loses his balance, tail wobbling behind him in an attempt to stay upright. "GRAB IT!" His shout is one of panic as he finally tips fully off balance, following the fish to the ground.

𓇢𓆸 you get on my nerves

• ooc: —
• 
  SANDPELT ❯❯ he/him, warrior of riverclan
  ❀ pretty, silky-furred tan tortoiseshell with one yellow eye. calm and hardworking, but can become snappy if angered.
  ❀ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ❀ penned by foxlore

​

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[FERNGILL]

It seemed a cruel twist of fate that so many Riverclanners ended up with one eye- Ferngill and Sandpelt were one in the same under that group, a fox carving a single mar across the same eye. Sandpelt's injury, thankfully, hadn't set him back as deeply as it had done Ferngill; he was a warrior, and had earned that right. It was that fact that kept Ferngill's attantion away until the tan tom's shout shattered through the air.

Fiery fur fluffed out in spines, a single eye of green searching for danger- and finding, instead, glimmering star-droplets flicking off the silver scaled of a dropped, flopping fish, beached on the shore and very intent on hanging onto life.

Ferngill was rushing over in an instant- the way depth worked was something he'd finally gotten usd to after so long. Grab it he did, though- barely, but he managed it. A paw thumped over is tail, claws unsheathing to make purchase. His fangs gleamed in the sunlight as he moved to bite down on it, stop it moving once and for all- and then it thumped him right in the face. Last laugh, it seemed- Ferngill cried out, but bit down on it in that moment of frenzy anyway, managing just-about.

"Augh, my nose..." he complained, scrunching his face up, feeling the pain where it had smacked him beginning to settle into uncomfortable place. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

Blip . . . blip . . . bloop! A pair of feathery black ears pop out of the sunlit river, twitching as if testing the air for some unheard sound, a sight that's more than a little comical given their size. After a heartbeat, the rest of the warrior's split - toned head follows, wet curls sticking to his forehead as he shakes his head like a dog to clear it of excess water. What's that sound? He tries unsuccessfully to blink the last droplets out of overlong lashes, the tail of the trout in his jaws flapping from side to side as he peers through still - damp black fur, seeking the source of the sound.

Which is how he's privy to the sight of Sandpelt fumbling a fish between his paws as it gasps and flops, silver scales flashing in the sunlight as he frantically bats it from one forepaw to the other. The half - masked warrior snorts bubbles as the fish arcs out of the other cat's paws and into the air in a flip - flop arc, the cream warrior's unsuccessful attempt to follow it culminating in his sturdy form crashing to the ground after the fish with a shout for someone to grab it! Cicadaflight feels his forelegs twitch instinctively and he blinks in surprise, and he'd perhaps give that some more thought, but—

—then Ferngill bites the fish at the expense of it slapping him square in the face, at which point Cicadaflight's fish - muffled giggles pitch up into all - out laughter. The tom's head bobs awkwardly as he struggles to juggle the task of keeping himself afloat with the gravelly laughs bubbling out of his chest—the sight is so comical, he can't help but practically cackle. His blue eye cracks open to reveal the tableau of the finally - conquered fish, Ferngill's scrunched face, and Sandpelt still flat on the sandy earth and he's off again, raspy laughter rocking his chest, until . . .

" Oh, shit! " the warrior manages to yelp through more chuckles as his ( luckily unmoving ) trout slips out of his jaws and back into the river, at which point he appears to flip - flop until his waving legs and tail are visible instead of head, and then those promptly disappear beneath the rippling river as well. A moment passes before his tufted ears are once again the first thing to reappear, this time by the shore, where he then makes his exit and stands dripping next to the two warriors.

" Sorry, you two, " he manages, still chuckling, once he's dropped his own fish (this time intentionally ), " for laughing. " Maybe it's the cool river and the greenleaf sun warming his back, or the last few husky giggles making their way out of his system, or just the hilarity of the whole situation, but he manages to forget for a minute his troubles and the Clan's troubles and whatever the hell his relationship with the tan warrior sprawled on the sand is. So, for once, he doesn't think, just rasps good - naturedly, " You guys okay? "

" speech ( theme week edition ) "

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[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

He'd been lucky the fox that took him beneath the waves hadn't taken his own. The scars that carve up the side of his face make it painful to smile or scrunch up his nose, but beyond that he's mostly intact. His paw's the worst of it. Aching after long treks, tensing up when he lashes out the wrong way. Sparring's gotten more difficult and he knows a real battle'll be just as bad. It's easy to tell where his weaknesses were when they peeled the fur back from his hide. Nobody could miss it. They've all got that in common, at least. Eyepatched and peg-legged, the lot of 'em. Cicadaflight's spared that much, 'least so far. If he took after Smokestar. . . well, his littermate's already far past that. (The thought of the tom makes his chest twinge; he looks away from the young warrior all too pointedly. At least distractions come easily, here.)

With no catch to slow him down just yet, Houndstride doesn't have anything to keep him from laughing. The bark of noise bounces jovially off the riverbank and peters off until he's left with silent chuckles, chest and shoulders still shaking to the point of breathlessness. "Let me see you, let me look," he snickers, lifting a paw to try and turn Ferngill's face. "No blood? No need to tell Moonbeam all about your little adventure?" He drops his paw down and looks between both him and Sandpelt with warm mischief in his eyes. "Well done, the both of you."

𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐓: 𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊.  ╱ ( 𝑬𝑿𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑳𝑬𝑻 ) 〚 03.11.2024 〛 𓆟༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆｡˚ ༝ • .𓆝

• OOC. —
• 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄. HE - HIM - HIS. PRODIGAL WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. ————— mauled by a fox moons ago and has the scars to prove it. though his wounds are healed, nothing can rid him of that pain.  ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
  
  a lean chocolate tabby with lime green eyes. the scars that had once been limited to the bridge of his nose now shatter and expand across that entire side of his face, up to a ripped ear and down to his shoulder and front right leg. it is somewhat difficult for him to put his weight on that paw at odd angles, and he gets grumpy after a long while of walking, but it does not inhibit him terribly.

• "speech"

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[SANDPELT]

ꕀꕀ His collapse to the ground is as ungrateful as they come, more like the toppling of a great tree in a storm than the simple trip of a cat whose legs just can’t keep him balanced. He lands chest-first in the sand, a grunt leaving his mouth at the impact—but when his eye flickers up to where the fish has flown, he spots a familiar ginger tom capture it beneath a powerful paw. Ferngill attempts to bite down on the fish to kill it, and gets a smack in the face for his efforts. Sandpelt watches wide-eyed when the lead warrior finally dispatches the fish, distracted by the sight. Ferngill has a handsome face, despite the injury that mars one side of his face. That wounded green eye doesn’t shine in the same way that his bright, uninjured eye does—but still, Sandpelt finds himself smiling as he looks up at the lead warrior.

Huh… The scar where his own yellow eye used to lie throbs, pulling Sandpelt’s attention to his own face instead. Ferngill doesn’t look bad, so maybe… maybe he doesn’t look terrible, either. But he definitely doesn’t look good enough, especially in comparison to the way Houndstride looks as his entire body quakes with laughter. His attention is drawn to the river when he hears the gravelly sound of laughter coming from the water as well, and he picks himself up at last when Cicadaflight leaves the water, holding a successfully-caught fish and giggling down at him. Sandpelt’s nose wrinkles, dragging his gaze away from the sight—water dripping off of inky black curls, mismatched eyes squinted with amusement, an apology falling from a white-splashed muzzle—with some difficulty.

He pulls himself back to his feet with a huff of laughter, jaw clicking as he flexes it. Damp grains of sand cling to silken fur, and he brushes it off with a delicate cream paw. "It’s fine. It was funny," he says in response to Cicadaflight’s words. Houndstride asks whether Ferngill is alright, tipping his face to get a closer look, and Sandpelt takes the opportunity to offer, "Hooray for a team effort, then?"

𓇢𓆸 you get on my nerves

• ooc: —
• 
  SANDPELT ❯❯ he/him, warrior of riverclan
  ❀ pretty, silky-furred tan tortoiseshell with one yellow eye. calm and hardworking, but can become snappy if angered.
  ❀ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ❀ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[FERNGILL]

Oh, he couldn't believe it- what a display that was, getting whipped right in the face by a thrashing bit of prey! It was typical, really... even after he'd arguably proved himself tenfold, he still found ways to prove he wasn't a naturally talented tom. Thankfully, those who drifted close were dressed with good humour. To see a smile so genuine on Cicadaflight's face was genuinely heart-warming, and well- just to see Houndstride, strong and tall and reliable, greet him with kindness was something that Ferngill could always appreciate.

He supposed, in the end... it all worked out pretty well, right?

Houndstride's marred face bowed to examine his own, and Ferngill tilted his head up with the nudge of the lean tom's paw to help him get a better look. "All good? Stings, but I've had worse," Ferngill joked, winking his scarred eye. Wow, when had he started being able to joke about it? He gave Cicadaflight a glance too, easy smile strewn across his face- "He's right, it was funny." He could laugh along, for all Ferngill cared!

Sandpelt's words widened Ferngill's smile, if that was possible- with a gleaming eye he looked to him, and his tail flicked warmly as he nudged the now-dead fish closer to the younger warrior. "Hooray! We should fish together more often," Ferngill chimed, a very genuine offer. Despite the whack to the face, this had been fun! ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​