pafp IT’S NOT THAT EASY — competition

[CLAYFUR]

There’s a new she-cat in camp, and Clay isn’t sure what to think of her. He knows she’s a former ShadowClanner, and ShadowClan is friends with WindClan, and WindClan is the enemy. Except for, like, Hyacinthbreath; she’s kinda cool and scary. Scary-cool. But the point is, Clayfur doesn’t trust ShadowClan. Their leader is conniving and sketchy—as expected of anyone who willingly associates with Snotstar and her band of feral cats she calls a clan.

He doesn’t think that allowing Bonejaw to just, like, stay here is a good idea. Cicadastar has kept the borders closed for so long, only to open them up to a ShadowClanner? But, as Clay reminds himself, it’s not his place to question the leader’s decisions. After all, the benevolent tom allowed him and Icesparkle and Mudpelt and Lilybloom to join the newly-formed clan, even though they were his enemies not too long before. So he doesn’t oppose the black and white queen’s presence, and especially not while she’s expecting kits.

Clayfur accepts Bonejaw joining the clan, but he still doesn’t know her. Hasn’t even spoken to her once. So when he spots her alone, he scoops up a couple bundles of dried, crunchy moss that Beesong totally won’t smack him for ruining. Trying to act casual, instead of weird and awkward, he strides over to the healer and tips his head to her. "Hi, Bone." His greeting is short, but not unfriendly, and one corner of his mouth is tipped up in a lopsided grin.

"You know, you actually can’t be a RiverClanner yet. You haven’t passed the test… of beating me in a moss-eating competition." As he says it, he pushes one of the crumpled-up bundles of moss toward her, letting it rest in the dirt at her paws. Then he realizes how he’s worded the challenge, and he tries to backtrack. "Well, not moss eating, I guess. Nobody but me actually eats it. But if you can fit more moss in your mouth than me, then you’ll be a real RiverClanner." Hazel eyes glitter with childish excitement, and he holds his breath in anticipation. Nobody’s beaten him yet.

// pls wait for @BONEJAW !
also tagging exasperated bf @CLEARSIGHT
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[BONERIPPLE]

Self isolation is normal for her, like breathing. It's how she was back in Shadowclan. Ever watchful, a silent sentinel. And so far she has not changed since she has come to Riverclan. She feels like she has already pushed her presence on the others enough. So she stays out of their way. She can see that they think she got in soley because of her friendship with their leader. And they would be right. She knows it and she does feel like she has used her best friend, she needs to apologize again. It only seems right. Her tail curls up against her paws as she looks down at them. Shifting and thinking of the nest she needs to make for when it comes time for her to be in the nursery. It's...hard to think about parenthood. She wonders if Wolve is ready. He seems so happy and excited about it. Offering names already. A small smile flutters across her maw at the thought before she suddenly lifts her head to the sound of approaching paws

Blinking those luminous orange eyes of her she stares at Clayfur and the moss that he is carrying with him. Confusion is on her muzzle then and when he greets her she tries to pick a part her brain for his. A name she knows she has heard and it takes her a moment to greet him back. "Uh..Claypelt..?" Her maw twists with uncertainty before she shakes her head. He goes on to talk about her not being a real Riverclanner till she beats him in a moss eating contest. A sour look spreads over her face then and his sudden explanation of the whole ordeal doesn't seem to change her disgust. "I thought the ordeal would have to be eating a fish and actually liking it. Why would you waste moss?" Just thinking of the dry taste of moss in her mouth makes her cringe but she also thinks. She had to carry moss all the time when she was a medicine cat. It can't be that hard.

New fire lights her gaze and she looks to the moss before looking at Clayfur. "Fine, challenge accepted. But if I win you'll owe me a favor."​

 

[CLEARSIGHT]

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➵ By the time Clearsight approaches, they have already begun — he strides closer, shaking on sick limbs, muscles straining beneath blue tabby fur; picturesque RiverClan shine dulled by leaf-bare. (His dip into the river brought him closer to death than he's been in a long time, and his little Gillpaw too; the lingering cold took Clearsight out for more than a day, and even now he's... weak. A bit sick. But he takes care not to show it, lets clanmates chalk the symptoms up to hunger or stress.)

He can't help the startled amusement that takes hold — this is ridiculous — at once, two thoughts: stars, does Clearsight love this man and stars, is this man lucky Clearsight loves him.

"... Clayfur," he says, struggling not to laugh. "Love."

His tone is — fond, amused, exasperated? What is Clayfur doing, he thinks, but he also thinks he knows the answer. "What are you doing?" he finds himself asking anyway, shaking his head, blue-streaked fur ruffling in leaf-bare wind.

Of course his mate's personal taste for the inedible doesn't explain today's scene. Moss stuffed in not just one but two mouths. Is this a... a bonding experience of some kind? Bonejaw might just fit right in after all. Has she a taste for sand? That'd do it.

"Are you two ... "

He tilts his head, continues hesitantly (still choking back laughter), "having fun?"

He adds wryly, an afterthought, "If either of you choke Beesong will have your heads."

// slight powerplay lol hope its aight
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& we've all got battle scars ✗ ​

 

[CLAYFUR]

He’s half-expecting Bonejaw to ignore him completely, or drive him off with a hiss, or maybe even politely refuse his offer. But no, she surprises him by just looking confused and messing up his name. At least he isn’t the only one who’s bad with names! "It’s Clayfur, actually. But you can call me whatever you want! I used to be just Clay, but Cicadastar made us all have names like him." He doesn’t know why he’s explaining it to her; she probably experienced the same thing when she’d joined ShadowClan under… uh, what was the old leader’s name? She’d been Bonejaw’s sister, he thinks, but he can’t recall her name. It probably doesn’t matter too much, and she probably doesn’t want to talk about it anyway.

The she-cat makes a good point, wondering why he’d waste moss when he could just force her to choke down a fish. But he doesn’t just want to tell her to do something while he watches—that’s so weird. And she looks kinda, like, disgusted at the idea of putting moss in her mouth, but at least it’s a competition, so they’ll both be doing it. "It isn’t wasted! I don’t think so, at least. I dunno, Beesong didn’t say I couldn’t use it." It’s not like he took it from the medicine den, either, or anybody’s nest. He just hopes that he won’t receive a lecture for his—as Crappiepaw had called it—buffoonery.

He gives the former healer a bright smile, then nods toward the ball of moss at her paws. "Sounds good, any favor you want! And we can start… now!" He isn’t taking her too seriously, because most cats can’t stand the taste of moss in their mouths, especially dry. Maybe she’ll surprise him, he thinks as he starts shoveling moss into his mouth. It’s not even bad, though! He’d eat Some every day if there was no one around to stop him!

And speaking of his terrible impulse control… "Hi shweetie," he greets the handsome warrior who approaches them. His voice is muffled and distorted by the wad of moss in his mouth, but he manages to grin up at Clearsight. "Havin’ lotsh of fun! Won’t shoke!" He should probably be more careful about choking, but he’s sure he won’t actually choke. Right?
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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