pafp makes me feel alive // "hunting"

Ternfrost.

Ternfrost.

— I'll live by the sword, too
Winds of Change [SHC '24] Frogsplosion [SHC '24] February Prompts [SHC '24] ShadowClan 10K Fall Prompts [SHC '23] Yellowcough [Sitewide Event '23] Bears [SHC '23] Spring Prompts [SHC '23]
Jul 30, 2022
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EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​
maggotpaw | 07 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
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Maggotpaw has always had a strange sort of fascination with Magpiepaw. The boy is weird in more ways than she can count, but somehow sh is not off-put - no, rather she is amused. But fun and games can only take this strange friendship so far, and so today Maggotpaw has decided to see if she can make him useful as more than just another trphy in her collection. Unsettling turquoise gaze narrows onto a matching pair of eerie blue-violet orbs, staring, before she finally speaks. "Hey, the birds talk to you, right?" she starts off slowly. Its not that she necissrily beleives him but... if there are ghost cats living in the stars, just maybe her friend is telling the truth. She gives a swish of her fluffy tail before tipping her head back, one heavy paw lifting to point overhead at a bird perched upon a branch, high out of reach. "Tell it to come down. I want to be.... friends," of course, by that she means she wants to eat the feathery-prey, but really it should be honored to be considered a meal for someone such as herself. What better reason to die than to be her next meal?

// @Magpiepaw
this takes place before the wind event in order to make things make more sense
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"...they talk at me. We are not on the same level." Magpiepaw chirps in reply, unsure of whether he was about to be picked on for his interest in the avians or asked a question he didn't know the answer to, but all the same he's only really amused when Maggotpaw tries to explain she wishes to befriend them. He was a touch naive, perhaps even a little airheaded at times but he was not dropped in the carrionplace just yesterday and he had the sense to know better. The black and white tom's expression does not change but there is a faint hint of amusement to his next words, pitched like bird cry and whiskers quivering with each syllable uttered.
"...and take from you an opportunity to improve your hunting? I would never." He was not offended as some might think over the idea of birds being eaten, while he wasn't inclined to consider them prey himself so long as they went to feeding the clan and were not wasted he didn't really shed much of a tear over their lives lost. They were like cats, dying at times with no real reasoning behind it other than simply that was how life was.
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————— ☾ —————
NOW I KNOW WHAT'S REAL, WHAT'S FAKE
Swankit has grown a bit of an interest in Magpiepaw since seeing them watch him sleep. It's only natural, they think. Most cats don't watch each other sleep, so there must be something different about them. And now, his wanderings (growing bolder by the day) have brought him to a very interesting bit of information. Magpiepaw talks to birds. Just like his dad did... And his dad is very important so maybe the weird apprentice is too. Blessed with bird-speak...

Swankit blinks up at him, quiet voice piping up from where he's stopped his drifting paws. "Ah... I talked to a bird before... But, um, it didn't talk to me." He looks disappointed at this, mournful. His eyes flick to the bird overhead. "Wish I could understand them..." He tried to learn the bird's chatterspeak, but it didn't work. He was a stranger to the dove, speaking a language not his own. His ears weren't right for listening, for hearing the words of the feathered creatures. "The birds must like you, weird cat." Weird cat, said without judgement but with a hint of admiration. He still doesn't know their name, but a repeat of Applekit's words will suffice. He's never really thought to ask.
RATHER SLEEP THAN STAY AWAKE
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☾⋆⁺₊⋆ info ; visual
  • //
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  • SWANKIT named for his pale fur, after his maternal grandmother.
    — he/him. 2 moons.
    — shadowclan kit.
    — quiet and dreamy.

    penned by saturnid.​
  • "SPEECH"
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  • Untitled147_20230514003200.png
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"It's the bugs with me," she trilled softly, reclining on her haunches with a decorum that contrasted the words to come. There was no real reason for the Lead Warrior to be there, a gaggle of apprentices and a curious child were not company one could keep for long, but Ferndance had never minded it. A smile twisted upon her maw as she looked up, blinking slowly at the raucous lot that usually congregated above ShadowClan's campground. Perhaps they were mocking them, any hungry cat that tried to climb would be faced with a fleeing avian before they even had a chance to strike. But, Magpie thought differently, Ferndance didn't know how or why he thought differently, but he did. It was respectable so long as it didn't get in the way of her filling her belly. "If I lean my head close to the earth, they talk, buzzing, telling me all their tall tales about how they saw a flower in the shape of a butt or how they caught Smogmaw eating spiders.... that one might be true.... or not, I might be just kidding." Didn't their Deputy eat maggots? Spiders felt like a step above that, what with their eight wriggly legs and nasty teeth.

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Change your mind​
"I wish to learn what they're saying" quipped Crowpaw as he trotted over, copper eyes glittering as they from the bird to Magpiepaw and Magotpaw before looking down to Swankit who seemed upset that he did not understand the chitters of birds while Ferndance came in and expressed how she could speak to bug which Crowpaw wondered to himself how well that worked out.

"Perhaps we could learn how to speak bird together, eh?" they said softly towards Swankit with a warm smile on their maw before glancing back at the bird that payed no mind to the cats that seemed to watch it from where they stood. The rosetted tabby squinted a bit wondering what exactly the bird was chirping, did it know they were there?​
"speak""Thoughts"​
 
EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​
maggotpaw | 07 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
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Acting her age for once, the girl gives a dramatic pout, frowning a magpiepaw as though hurt by his words. "Tch - but it'd be so much easier," she grumbles, blinking when they're joined by a handful of others. Plumed tail swishes back and forth idly as she listens - completely ignoring swankit in favor of more familiar and likeable faces such as ferndance and crowpaw (though the former clanmate likable is... a bit questionable). She snorts, an amused smirk on her face - "Of course it's true - how else do you explain his personality," the snark comes out easily and effortlessly - really, she doesn't even think twice. "I don't think it's something you can learn," she says thoughtfully. If you cold learn such things, if they weren't starclans blessings, then everybody would. Of course, this is all assuming any of this is true, which she's of course skeptical of, but its an interesting thought to entertain.

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Weird cat, he is called, and he finds the honesty refreshing. He was, he knew it, so did everyone else. That the fact was danced around like danger was almost a little insulting really so when he smiled down at Swankit with squinted eyes it was an expression of proper affection for the cream kit with the bold words.
"I like to think they do." It had been the carrion crows circling his rubbish pile that surely drew ShadowClan to find him before, crying out a cacophony of blistering noise to indicate his presence on what was probably their own freshkill pile of sorts, trash to pick through with sharpened beaks.
When Ferndance arrived and exclaimed her ability to speak to insects he didn't question it once, he knew the pact she held with her own flea-riddled pelt and surely it must be beneficial if she kept the hopping biters rather than seek out Starlingheart to help her rid herself of them; perhaps she was using them for a means of subtle combat, nestled in the warrior's den with her fellows and spreading her black spotted pinprick army across every furred form within range of her. Cruel in a way, comical in others.
His head nods, inclines towards Maggotpaw in rapid agreement to Crowpaw's question and the white-headed apprentice answers for him plainly enough though he still decides to empahsize it somewhat, "It can't be taught. You just have to listen and see if they speak and if they don't, then you'll never know what is said."
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