i fear i know what they see [ dawn ]

[sheepcurl]

Lately, she has not been able to partake in much activities with Dawn, her friend from the twoleg place, because they had vastly different positions in the clan. Churro could not muster up the heart to leave her own twolegs, so she had to become a daylight warrior. It didn't bother her at all, especially since she still got to see her friends, especially Redstorm, who she has grown insanely close to. But where lies content also lies unrest, and when she had asked Dawn to go scavenge in the twoleg gardens with her and he accepted for some god forsaken reason, she had taken the opportunity so fast.

She perches on the fence, before the pair were multiple big round oranges, pumpkins, she had heard some other cats call them. Perfect for hunting with all the little creatures they attracted. "You think you can use this for your medicine stuff, amigo?" she twitches her whiskers in amusement, tilting her head towards Dawnglare. "Magical instant healing powers, or something?" though a tease, Churro is genuinely curious, leaping from the fence and sniffing at the spheres with bright eyes.

// @DAWNGLARE
​

"speech"​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The question she proposes is ridiculous. These big, unwieldy things used for medicine? Why, it'd be unheard of, utterly inconvenient, appalling, a detriment; but what if, what if it was merely untapped potential? A breakthrough in the making, the cure-all to every illness, every break, right at their very paws. Bounds— his knowledge has none. There were the occasional mishaps: nightshade, deathberries... (flukes, errors, occurrences that had hot bile pooling in his throat, made his claws itch, itch, itch to tear into thunderclan—) There could be- could be...something here.

He teeters at the edge of the fence vicariously, a paw in the air for the sheer joy and thrill of it all. He stares, down, down, at the big orange blobs, strange sensations that always sprouted in leaf-fall, twolegs plucking them from the earth and placing them in front of their dens (blasphemy, calamity). Just how far were they? He can't quite tell. He's dizzy, spinning, spinning... And her words were always so funny, so strange, made him boil with deep-seeded anger, but in this moment, he could push it aside...There were more pressing matters, just this once... "Mayyybe ♪" comes his reply, an unsteady song, unsteady answer. Vague as the very clouds in the sky. He giggles. "Why don't we find out? Rip yourself apart and I'll spit it onto your wounds ♪"

Nearly does he push her onto the ground, nearly does he forgo any thoughts to care, simply intrigued by the chance to experiment. He does not— if only to maintain a scrap of self-preservation. He would surely tumble after her, were he to do such a thing.​