camp I WILL BE YOUR FOOL — eating inedible things (again)

[CLAYFUR]

Clayfur likes to think of himself as a somewhat introspective guy. He tends to talk through his own thoughts to try annd understand why he’s thinking them. He knows himself pretty well, in his own opinion. So he’s aware of his own impulsiveness, his disregard for danger, all in the name of finding some good food. He also understands his own curiosity—he won’t be satisfied until he knows what that specific thing tastes like, feels like in his mouth.

So of course, when he spots the patch of perfectly-colored algae, sparkling green where it lies draped so gently across the surface of a slow portion of the river—of course he has to try it. And listen. Yeah, it might not be the best idea he’s ever had. Maybe it even ranks among the worst ideas he’s had. But that doesn’t really matter, because all he’s thinking is about just how gritty this stuff is! Like, it’s just water leaves, why is it so gross?

He’s stretched out in a patch of sunshine with the algae braced between white paws, a satisfied smile upon his face. He chews idly at the not-food, savoring it even though it’s a super weird flavor. It’s somewhere between fish and leaf in taste, and he wonders whether that’s a good thing. Oh, well. Until Beesong chews him out about it, he’ll just enjoy it while he can.
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[CICADASTAR]

GUTTA CAVAT LAPIDEM : hes swimming, sharp paws paddling slow towards the far shore. the river was just above the point of unbearable, slipping over slim muscles and through ringlets of bicolored curls that drift ever upwards in the murky blue - grey waters. he’d not much luck in fishing today and it shows in the way he lifts himself onto the pebble - lines shore, dripping water with features set in a firm line. the freshkill pile was waning quickly, what prey was there scrawny and sickly with the oncoming mantle of leafbare. he doesn’t even notice the tabby for a moment, busy dipping his head to lick at the oversaturated coils springing back to life along his narrow chest, ears pinned back in visible frustration. it’s only when he lifts his head again does he spot him — hunched over a particularly flat expanse of stone, seeming fixated on something underpaw. the leader rights himself quickly, perking his ears and forcing any hair of worry from his stance. a soft smile dances upon his face.

“ hallo, clayfur! how’s - “ he’s walking towards him. he’s walking towards him and with each passing, slowing step, the river phantom notices it. a thick clump of moss near his full, white - dashed cheeks, whiskers damp. was he . . eating that? ice - salt eyes stare for a beat longer,“ the hunt . . going . . “ his voice trails off, finally. he doesn’t know what to do in this situation, and frankly, he’d already like to be out of it. cicadastar stares a beat longer, smile lost to a bizarre, visible curiosity, “ is that . . good for you? “ surely not!

− ♱ information visual reference out of character translations ♱ −

• − CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty nine months old, riverclan leader
  − handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and ice blue eyes
  − gay. speaks with a german accent, ages on the seventh, penned by antlers
  
  
• 
• none.

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[applestem]

[ ☾ ]

Considering the circumstances, by all means Apple should not be one to shy away from food. You never know when food might become scarce. The feline, however, was a picky eater. She only wished to gorge herself on the finest of meals and if it meant going hungry for a night so be it. So, when she finds herself staring at Clayfur, watching as the tomcat slowly grazes on a piece of wet leaf, she can't help but feel a bit nauseous. So disgusting! The grimace that perches itself upon her maw is almost impossible to hide. A paw is held to her chest in shock. The very fact that Cicadastar was questioning the man should have been more than enough reason for Clay to spit that horror out! "How absolutely REVOLTING!"

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[FINCHPAW]

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Its not Clayfur pulling a whole swath of algae out of the river that alerts him to the situation, but the shrill, bird scattering screech of Applestem. The pitch alone had his ears clamped down against his head in a way he usually avoided when she spoke out of common courtesy. Cautiously he turns and takes a few steps forward to inspect just what the warrior had deigned worthy of trying to consume this time. The apprentice clearly makes an expression between disgust and concern, before wiping it clean from his face. He then asks Clayfur how he finds it, mildly curious about how the clearly not cat friendly snack choice tasted and felt, but really just attempting to be polite.

'At this rate I wonder if Beesong will have enough herbs to treat the clan through the season.'​

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[DARKWHISKER]

darkpaw doesn't understand the fuss that applestem is making over his uncle's newest culinary adventure. as the apprentice pads over to the scene, he admires the sheer genius of uncle clayfur; eating that green stuff at the bottom of the river? come on, that's an amazing idea! especially now, when the fresh-kill pile seems to be growing smaller by the day. if riverclan ever runs out of fish, they have the perfect guy to turn to for alternative meals.

the chocolate-furred apprentice places his pebble at his paws when he stops at finchpaw's side. "relax, guys! it's just, uhh..." speaking aloud, darkpaw only now realizes that he doesn't know what the green stuff at the bottom of the river is, exactly. he scrunches his face up for a heartbeat, before it returns to his usual dopey smile. "...it's just plants! i'm sure they taste great."

as if to prove his point, darkpaw inches closer to his uncle with wide eyes fixated on the plants within the tabby's grasp. "hey, uncle clayfur, can i try some?"​