pafp I CAN SEE THE BRUSH STROKES // garloom soccer

[GLOOMPAW]

*:･ﾟ✧☁ ⋯ Gloompaw loves freedom. However, she despises the fact her shoulders droop with the burden of a tough training routine, yet the rush of knowing more and more landmarks kept her going -- bare minimum but going nonetheless. When she'd been brought back a moon ago, flea-dirt in her hair and ticks making her frail, it had seemed stupid that she'd braved the wilds before and then was promptly never allowed back out. Now it came at the cost of effort, but it was almost a reward. Of course, this time it isn't, but she isn't worried about it as much as winning.

The mouse was worse than a mossball, but she manages to launch it towards Garpaw in the end. She laughs as a grey paw rolls it, ignorant to the fact this was a disrespect of precious food. The freshkill might've fed a starving kit, but within time it'd be tossed around far too much to be any enjoyable meal. "SCORE!" the apprentice triumphs, though she isn't sure if it's made it far enough past her denmate to really count...

//pls wait until @GARPAW posts!!!! then u can go crazy >:)​

 

[GARPAW]

Despite nearly being the age of a warrior, the girl surely didn't act like it. With the knowledge that her warrior ceremony more than likely already would be held back, she wondered if there really was a limit on how long Cicadastar would hold her back. Regardless of the fact that she acted much like the younger denmates, it didn't entirely bother her all together. Why should she care how others viewed her? It wasn't as if many of them paid her much mind either way. A scowl would cross her jaws as a grey blur flew past her head, wondering what had happened. Or rather who she should prepare to dig her claws into. Uncharacteristically, she would relax as she caught sight of Gloompaw, who seemed to be too distracted with her own giggling and celebrations to notice her return of fire.

"Oh now you're asking for it!" A rare sight to see, Garpaw actually wore a smile across her face, giggling as she attempted to send the mouse flying back towards Gloompaw. If she were successful, she would run towards the "goal", hoping to drive the corpse into it. Did she know better than to play with food like this? Of course she did. Did she care? Not exactly. Garpaw was more than willing to eat it to prove a point after their game had concluded if needed.
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[CRAPPIEPATCH]

Crappiepaw’s eyes widen with something very close to horror as they watch the scene before them. He likes Garpaw, even if she’s a bit eccentric for his tastes, and he thinks Gloompaw is a very nice girl. But this… this is strange. This is a level of weird that unsettled him, truly. "You guys are gross," he says flatly, his upper lip raising in a sneer.

"I don’t think you’re supposed to play with it like that." Isn’t playing with food against the rules or something? Who’s going to want to eat it now that it’s been all over the ground? Crappiepaw isn’t too picky over their prey—it’s all been on the ground before, and they rarely have an appetite anyway—but they certainly don’t enjoy their food to be kicked around.
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[SMOKESTAR]

"This close to leafbare and this is how we treat our prey?" The only reason he was in camp was because he had no choice. Beesong had been insistent and he wasn't about to make the healer's job any harder than it was. He had no way or knowing how difficult the plant matter pressed to his face with the leaf was to obtain or if it was even rare, he just did as he was told and kept it firmly in place plastered over his wounded right eye. Injury aside, he'd not lost his fire or temperament and he stalked forward with a scowl from the edge of the camp upon spotting the 'game' being played. There is a narrow of that lone sun sinking into dark fur, but otherwise he does not act in any aggressive manner; just disappointment and annoyance.
"Crappiepaw is right. We respect our prey." A stern talking to was punishment enough depending on the response, but he was already mentally preparing for apprentice backsass, his time training Iciclepaw had made him all the more patient for the sort of eyerolling passive aggressiveness the youth of the clan often gave when approached with anything they didn't like.

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[GLOOMPAW]

*:･ﾟ✧☁ ⋯ Gloompaw gasps as Garpaw successfully sends the mouse through the goal. As she runs up to it, trying to get to it before it rolls too far, she trips and tumbles all the way, shaking with laughter. Honestly, it is quite morbid, but so ridiculous that the humour of it outweighs any feelings of remorse.

She catches her breath as Crappiepaw approaches, and her head tilts confusedly. Gloompaw doesn't think she or Garpaw are weird at all, just innovative! "It's not gross, it's fun! And how else are we meant to play with it?" It isn't exactly a retort as much as an invitation to play, and she steps back from the now-floppy mouse to allow them to kick it if they'd like.

Most of their onlookers had either cringed or moved away, but Smokethroat voices his disappointment. The storm-coloured apprentice feels shame prickle at the base of her neck, and scratching the itch does nothing to stamp out the inkling of guilt. She frowns now, face still warm from the happiness of just running around, and objects, "It's dead, it isn't offended we're kickin' it around!"​

 

[Bounceheart]

bounceheart ✧ she/her ✧ riverclan warrior (=˃ᆺ˂=)

Daily routine was becoming tedious. One more uninteresting dawn patrol and she might lose it. The worst part was the hours she spent hunting in between sleeping and patrols. Practice was making its' difference on her skills, but she had to work on the patience. Unfortunately, that was half the act. She had become intolerant early in, and decided to at least take a swim. In the end, she did not return empty-handed.. -paw'd, as two fat water vole swung limply from her jaws.

An excitement was evident in the camp from just outside. Ears pricked with curiosity, she shuffled in just a bit faster. Little searching was done before she found the culprits - two apprentices violating prey. As she stalked towards them, Crappiepaw and Smokethroat began to handle the situation. Bounceheart was very set on giving the two a piece of her mind, though.

Coming to a standstill between the two, she dropped her prey onto the ground and glared angrily between the two and said dead mouse on the floor.
"It is disgusting, in fact it is shameful," she scorned. How could they have such little regard for something that died to be fed to them? "Not only have you desecrated a MEAL that could have fed an entire cat, you ARGUE with warriors who feed the clan?" Only a breath separated her next lashing, "Do you know how thankful you would be for that DEAD mouse in TWO moons?" She tilted her head down, glaring at the two in the face. It wasn't yelling, but the displeasure dripped from her tone. "Get out of here. Go hunt and stop being a menace. And take your snack with you." Tail now slashing through the air, she picked up her prey and offered them a paw wave towards the exit as dismissal. Her fur was puffed out, hackles still risen as she slipped away to put her game in the pile.​

 

[GARPAW]

Everyone was so upset and for what? As more warriors gathered, Garpaw found herself rolling her eyes in annoyance. A snicker would break her turned serious expression as Gloompaw tripped, and protested in return to Smokethroat and Bounceheart. While Crappiepaw's comments would go ignored, she still would hear them loud and clear. It wasn't their fault after all. They were only children.

"You act like we aren't going to eat it. Gloompaw's right, the thing's dead. It doesn't care what we do with its corpse." Blinking as Bounceheart stood in their faces, Garpaw wouldn't allow the warrior to get to her. "We're apprentices. You act as if we're incapable of going out to hunt this ourselves." This woman wasn't her mentor. There was no way that Garpaw was actually going to listen to her. "You're not my mentor. Who's to say I haven't hunted today already?"

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[SMOKESTAR]

He was quiet for a moment, his immediate response to the backtalk was to close his eyes and let them finish with it-he'd learned already there was no point speaking just yet because a stubborn apprentice was going to speak their mind one way or another and the lesson could be brought up when they were finished but Bounceheart was suddenly there. The topic of food, he'd realized, was very touchy for the silver tabby and it was more chaotic she'd noticed than had she not; while her anger was well placed and earnest it was not the best method to solving this. It was funny, he used to be of the same mindset that scolding and sharpening his voice would get things done quicker and more effeciently but his time in RiverClan brought a different sort of temperament out of him. Maybe he didn't want to be the shadow apprentices cowered from, maybe he would prefer to talk. His hostility should be saved for his enemies.
The tom's dark tail flicked up, a careful gesture of calm to the other warrior before he trained that lone orange eye on Gloomkit and then Garpaw.
"You're right. It's dead. But it's food and should be eaten only. There are countless other things you could use for your game. That you use prey when there are cats incapable of hunting, unable to feed themselves...it is insulting. The mouse isn't offended, mice don't think. But we do. Some of us came from places-" Already he remembers the bright lights and shadowed corners, the two-leg city build of smooth stone, "-where we were not so fortunate to get to eat everyday."
Smokethroat thinks quietly of how he punished Peachpaw with den cleaning, how so many cats protested it because she made a simple mistake; so he opted to instead let the discussion be punishment enough for now. "There will come a time when you are unable to hunt as capably as you do now and you will depend on the clan. Give these same cats the consideration you would want. Bounceheart, give them back their mouse."
If they ignored him and kept playing with it, so be it, but hopefully the words had some degree of weight.

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