IN YOUR HEAD / marsh investigators


Sandra had (unfortunately) approached Soot this morning looking for engagement. The pregnant queen for very good reason (and no fault of Sandra's) uncomfortable around the cinnamon tabby. The blue molly didn't have any sort of excuse to brush her off... so interacting with her she was forced to do for a short while. Maybe she could learn to fake it until she genuinely enjoyed it, who knew.

At least the activity was mildly intriguing. They roamed through the outskirts of the pine forest, a place they once called their hunting grounds that was now infested by kittypets. Being around this land simply made her sad... it was going to be such a waste. She almost opens her maw, but stops herself, Sandra's a kittypet. Huh... yeah, that might just turn this outing sour.

While investigating and poking their nose around, the two did not come here to intentionally stir trouble. Maybe on Soot's end exchange a few bitter words hid behind a sickeningly fake joyous tone... but that would be all. She'd sneak a catch or two if she managed to stumble upon anything without unwanted pests stumbling upon them.

"Their scent fades in this area, haven't been around here for a day at least." She'd inform Sandra, or could she tell that on her own despite her kittypet origins...? Time is probably ticking for them to show up again, especially after the recent... incident. Silver whiskers twitch in amusement as she imagines the scene unfolding.

/ please wait for @Sandra to post first!


It was rather strange to say the least; picking Soot of all cats to join her. Sandra never really spent time with the molly and she wasn't entirely sure why that was. Soot was as friendly as Soot could be, and probably could teach her a thing or two about hunting with those skills. Catching an owl while pregnant! Unheard of! Still, the cinnamon tabby felt there was an underlying uncomfortableness from the blue molly, and she wondered if that was right or if it was just her mind playing mean tricks again on her. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately with most of her interactions; finding that she might annoy other cats or make them uncomfortable.

They were skirting the edges of the pine forest, once a hunting ground for the Marsh Group now reduced to that of kittypets. Though it was always questionable for Sandra whether these house cats meant anything bad or not. While most house cats where docile, lately a lot of them became aggressive. It was so weird, espeically when she knew some of the kittypets they ran into. Being a pervious house cat herself, Sandra wished to keep peace between Marsh Group and the kittypets. How she was going to do that was beyond her and made her brain hurt just thinking about.

Sandra wasn't the best at scenting as of late, having been part of the group for not a long period of time, and she opened her maw to taste the air as Soot mentioned the fading scent. It was stale? Yeah, that was the right word for it, "Strange, you'd think they'd be around more often or do you think we scared 'em off?" Sandra offered a smile and a little chuckle at the thought of them running off the kittypets.
[ I Use To Hear A Simple Song ]

╰☆☆ A high, clear voice as pretty as birdsong rains upon the marsh cats. "We tend to avoid cats smelling of corpses if we can."

If the two mollies looked up into the branches, they'd see Scarlet perched in the curve of one of them, shaded by the thick segments of pine above and beside her. She gives one of her paws a careful lick and scrubs it across her cheek before yawning.

She heard of 'the incident,' some little brat getting his neck chewed by a swamp rat over a bit of prey. Scarlet is not interested in a scuffle; scars are hideous, she thinks to herself, and besides, it's so much more entertaining to watch a fight than it is to have to participate in one.

Scarlet does, however, think Rain is a fool for letting these disgusting beasts continue considering themselves superior. Scarlet can't understand how any feline can stand living in mud all the time.

"Did you come to fight children again? Don't you have any back at your camp you can smack around?" She looks at them idly, blue eyes gleaming with amusement.
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✵ ღ ☾ I'D WALK THROUGH FIRE - When your born into a game of never ending tug-o-war between two groups, you learn to betray your peaceful nature for the sake of your loved ones. Something Indigo had always personally disdained, but had learned to accept.
Much like Scarlet, the point is crouched on a branch, though the tom had been in the middle of stalking a robin when the voices of the traveling mollies caught his ear, only having to look down to see the two meandering about.
He had not been there when Willow had attacked Finch, but word travelled fast, and Indigo had felt something click in his chest, imagining if it had been Viridan or Dew at the claws of that molly.
He stayed frozen for a moment, his gaze gliding upwards as his pupils followed the two, but soon his body moved after them, creeping along the branch until he could go no further.
Scarlets voice is clear when she speaks, and Indigo’s searching gaze is barely able to pinpoint her fiery pelt amongst her cover of pine needles.
Scarlet has never been one Indigo had gotten to know, with her sharp tongue and quick-witted remarks, she was rather unapproachable, she was outspoken though, anyone in the forest knew the tabby’s opinions on Rains decisions.
As another jab leaves her maw, Indigo makes his move. Turning on his heel he makes his way down the tree, landing behind the two Marsh Cats.
His nose cannot help but crinkle against their murky scent, but he forces it to relax before clearing his throat.
Despite his group coming from kittypet origins, he is far from the stereotypes. His large frame giving him an extra boost of confidence before he speaks. ❝ Let’s avoid another fight. ❞ He turns his chin up towards Scarlet, quirking a brow bone. ❝ Why are you here? ❞ Now he levels his head, tilting it ever so slightly.
❝ Speech. ❞


( ✧ ) To encounter this group again, only the Star's could tell him the way his luck was looking. Unfortunately, having to bear with such a stench so often. Soaring over the moon, allowing him such entertainment.

Here he was, besides his groupmates, perched in a branch. Perhaps his climb— had not been as quick as the others. But it was stellar considering it was merely his second time scaling a tree. He had little impressions of the other two, but he already knew just how much of their time they must be dedicated to climbing, busy performing as squirrels rather than contributing to the clan.

Maybe he'd give a pass for Scarlett's laziness, though. Her words are sharp and true. A laugh nearly spills from his throat, but he restrains himself, only smiling instead.

Indigo on the other hand is terribly boring, so quick to chastise, even though he's young. Blinding Star tilts his head. His questioning voice leaves the impression of merely a genuine inquiry—albeit a bit whiny. "Now, why's that her responsibility when they're clearly looking for one?" He looks back to the pair of marsh cats, blinking at them innocently. "Unless... that isn't what this is?"
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    ── ( ᴛᴀɢs. )  A small huff of sound, nearing a laugh but not nearly so kind, draws attention to Yarrow– unlike the others, she approaches them on the ground, her scent muddied faintly by the fresh prey that she carries. It is almost a challenge, to stand before them with this settled at her paws. It is why they'd harmed one of theirs, is it not? Prey. This is nothing more than a vole, but perhaps tempting enough. "You all bicker like littermates," she murmurs, looking up between the three. There is surprisingly little judgement in her voice. It is nothing more than a stated fact. "Such things are impolite in front of company."

    And this company, she knows. It is an old memory, yet cherished nonetheless. She does not speak of her time in the marshes to these newcomers. Not many even knew that she had been one of them. She has been with Rain since the beginning, and perhaps that is enough to erase any doubt of her loyalty in their minds, but she will not risk it. It is not pride alone that insists she must remain above scrutiny. "Soot. It is good to see you again."

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  • ──── yarrow, eventually yarrowtongue.  cis female,  she - her pronouns.
    ──── approximately five years old,  though age unknown. ages the first.
    ──── sexuality unknown, presumed to be wholly disinterested in others.
    ──── lilac silver ticked tabby with curly fur  and deep,  muted olive eyes.
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