camp I THINK THE APPLE'S ROTTEN RIGHT TO THE CORE ☆ FISH?

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" We will head back out after taking our meal, " he says as he steps back into the familiar confines of camp, @CRABPAW at his side, both of them river - damp. He is arduous in his efforts to prepare his apprentice for the world that sprawls out before him like a promise, not that he promises any particular cruelty. No, he is simply one who works long hours, and he expects Crabpaw to do the same—an expectation unconscious as breathing, he has not even considered that the ginger tom may not be used to such long stretches between waking and resting. For now, though, they will take a break; he is an old hand at exhaustion, and while he cares little for his own health, he cares very much for Crabpaw's.

" I think you may make another ' first catch ' within the moon, " he mrrows; I think, he says, but what he means is I expect. The soft awkwardness with which he had handled Iciclefang's brood in childhood has given way to the exacting standards Crabpaw's own mother brought Cicadaflight up to. Hesitation when he had snared the minnow in clumsy kitten - paws does not breathe of good tidings, and split eyes glance sidelong at his charge, watching his face for ripples as he might watch the dark river.

" Anyways, I— " he begins, only to be interrupted in a way he would never expect. A fat silver body smacks him squarely on the broad plane of his muzzle, fins slapping between his eyes, with the very dead fish's bony skull thumping against his browbone for good measure before it slides off his face and onto the sand below his paws. Ivory lashes flutter, disbelieving, and pain blossoms out from the point of impact. Unaware of any little ears nearby, he begins, " Ow, fu— "
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OOC : A peregrine dropped a dead fish and it smacked him in the face :)
 

With Crabpaw's mentor named, it has been increasingly difficult to find that familiar ginger pelt in camp. Eveningpaw needs to know everything that goes on in that head of his; what he thinks of the territory, if he likes the lessons he's been given so far, and most importantly: is he satisfied with Cicadaflight? Ever-bold Crabpaw is not always easy to get a hold of. His bright personality easily rivals the more stoic — but not necessarily unkind — traits that Cicadaflight possesses, and knowing such a pairing could grow troublesome to get used to does not require experience from Eveningpaw. Gladefrost has been nice enough, if a bit strict.

"Crabpaw, hi!" Eveningpaw calls for him the moment she sees him. His availability for the day remains questionable, especially with that black-and-white form hovering over him, but she's never been self-conscious about interrupting.

Just before she can either cut Cicadaflight off or decide to wait her turn, the sky attacks. More specifically- a flying fish comes straight for them. "Watch out, Cicad-"

Too late. The scaly body makes contact with a furred muzzle, and Eveningpaw can't decide if the slap really is this loud, or if the absurdity of it all has just amplified it for her. She awaits the reaction without a word, and when Cicadaflight's maw opens for profanity, her eyes grow round...
 

There is something to be said about the moments Robinheart takes to sit back and observe. Ever busy as an apprentice earning her place back, ever busy as a young queen picking up the pieces of her shattered heart, now never busy with the intent to heal. Citrine eyes are watchful over camp - taking in the coming and going of patrols and kitten games and elder strolls. Cicadaflight and Crabpaw are the center show of the moment, their drip drying pelts a testament to the bicolored tom’s training. Robinheart almost calls out to ask how everything went when something silvery fell from above and cut short the words on her tongue with a wet ‘splat’!

The tortoiseshell stares at Cicadaflight for a shocked moment, glances at the fallen fish, looks to Crabpaw, glances back at the fish, flicks her gaze to Eveningpaw, glances back once more at the silver scaled “flying” fish, then erupts into a fit of laughter.

“H-How… How was th-that even possible?!” She wheezes, belly aching in the best possible way from laughing so hard. Of course she feels bad for Cicadaflight and hopes his face doesn’t hurt too bad - she is still deeply caring - but the immediate moment calls for giggles and guffaws at the absurdity of the situation.
[ penned by kerms ]
 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Pale paws drag across the ground, exhaustion pulling at his shoulders in the same way river water weighs down bright fur. He’s never going to get used to the amount of with that Cicadaflight is making him do… but he’s an apprentice now, and working hard all the time is what he has to do if he’s gonna become a warrior. As long as he doesn’t have to kill another fish, then he can withstand it, ’cause he’s Iciclefang’s son. He can do anything. He just has to try as hard as he can. He doesn’t argue when the black-and-white warrior tells him that they’ll be heading right back out after they eat—a frown threatens to mar his muzzle, but he’s also excited about seeing even more of the territory.

The first cat to greet them both as they return to camp is Eveningpaw. "Hi!" He calls out in excitement, mustering the energy to greet his friend with an equal amount of enthusiasm. He misses being a kit, if only because he’d had all the time in the world to play with Eveningpaw and her siblings, carefree and full of energy. Now, he appears frazzled, but he does his best to hold a smile on his face. His attention returns to his mentor as Cicadaflight mentions that the apprentice might make another catch, and finally the threatened darkening of his face comes to the surface as the sickening taste of blood fills his mouth. Thankfully, his mentor moves on from that topic quickly, and starts to say something else. But before he can finish whatever it is he’d planned on saying, something happens very quickly.

WHACK! is the sound the fish makes as it plummets from the sky and connects with every single part of Cicadaflight’s face before popping to the ground. Crabpaw stares up at the warrior for a moment, blinking—completely stupefied. And then Robinheart bursts out into laughter, which drives the boy to let out a short laugh as well. He quickly slams a paw over his mouth, muffling himself until his mentor speaks: “Ow, fu-” Crabpaw’s ears may not be little, but they’re still attentive. He remembers when Cicadaflight had come back into camp with blood on him, but said the other cat looked worse… he’d called the other cat a fucker. Is the fish one, too? "Were you gonna call the fish a fucker? It’s dead now, so you don’t have to." He brandishes the fish in his jaws as though it’s a fresh catch—it’s food for the kits now, and he hadn’t even had to kill it himself!

  • ooc:
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  • CRABPAW 𓆝 he/him, apprentice of riverclan
    𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
    𓆟 mentored by cicadaflight
    𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragpaw & pinepaw
    𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    𓆟 penned by foxlore
 
〕Cicadaflight had been walking through camp and it had been by the fresh kill pile as the black and white warrior was talking to Crabpaw. Magpiepaw was grooming its chest fur idly after having finished a small piece of prey, remains of what they had earlier, and they didnt think much of the pair. Hawkcloud was surely going to have something for them to do today as they would be a warrior soon and they wanted to make sure they were up to par with everything they could need. Every skill needed to be honed in on and they were more than likely going to go out again sometime soon. The spiral of thoughts of what ifs and to dos, the black and white apprentice was zoning out into Cicadaflights' black fur.

Then there was a loud SLAP sound and it startles them, Eveningpaw pipes up shortly before to greet Crabpaw, and they blinked with round blue eyes. The young apprentice wasnt quite sure what happened for a long second as the warrior swore, this silver, dead fish flopped from his face onto the ground and Robinheart from nearby burst into laughter. Magpiepaw blinks and then furrows their brow, about to ask if the warrior was okay as they had just gotten slapped by a fish-

Then Crabpaw speaks.

For whatever reason, the fact the young apprentice swore and said 'fucker' was enough to have the apprentice choke on their own snort. They cough slightly before breaking into a laugh almost, more like persistent snorting as they covered their nose with a paw to stifle the noise. There was no way Crabpaw just said that, the absurdity of the young cat saying such things- only made it laugh a little harder. "Yeah, you dont have to call it names now," They managed between fits of snickers.

  • ooc.” “
  • Magpiepaw —— Apprentice of Riverclan , mentored by Hawkcloud . NPC x NPC . littermate to Gladefrost and Frecklepaw ✦ penned by wolfie
    AMAB Agender Masculine / they/it/ze / 10 months & ages every 23ʳᵈ
    single / Demisexual Homoromantic(femme leaning) & monogamous / closed to romance
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— combat details here / battle notes

    speech, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
    biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  • 57858877_QpMTdTTa199ZmQ5.png

    a longhaired black and white cat with blue eyes. write a short description detailing appearance including necessary information.
 

Were you gonna call the fish a fucker? It's dead now, so you don't have to.

His ears twitched from where he had been weaving a den, head turning towards the situation across camp. Horizonpaw seemed to have missed all the fun- but gathering by how Cicadaflight was near-doubled over with wide-eyes bugging from his narrow face, from how the fish was clamped in Crabpaw's jaws, he could only assume... A long slow breath left him, and green eyes tilted up towards @salmonshade before slowly approaching. When he approached, he was but a shadow to the side of his sister.

Head tilted inquisitive, near dog-like as he slowly put together why Robinheart was wheezing, why Crabpaw was spouting a profanity that Cicadaflight barely started. "From... the sky?" He questioned, and his head is tilting back, looking for the cloud that was going to rain fish. That would be the day- where Salmonshade didn't urge him to fish a little longer, where he didn't have to lug the heavy-as-him prey back to camp damp with algae-stunk water.

"... Weird." He surmises, looking around at the cats still breathless with laughter or bewilderment.
  • "speech"
  • HORIZONPAW he/him, apprentice of riverclan, seven moons.
    SH blue tabby with low white and deep green eyes. he is gangly, with long limbs and a longer tail that give him the illusion of being tall despite being average height otherwise. looks on with slightly anxious but normally happy expressions
    mentored by salmonshade / / mentoring no one
    padding after no one / / littermate to twinklepaw, eveningpaw, and snowflakekit
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.