pafp MASTER OF PUPPETS | falling asleep

[SNAILSTRIDE]

They couldn't remember the last time they'd slept of their own accord. Since Tigerfrost's death, there'd been a legitimate fear of meeting his bloodied form in the plane of dreams, telling them things they already knew about themselves but had been happy to hide so they didn't end up dead. StarClan's emptiness had perhaps been a good thing after all, there were no secrets to be kept from those watching at all times. For now, they tried to avoid the existential crises as best they could with a simple trick: distraction, distraction, distraction. WindClan's apprentices, whose insolence and disrespect were noted but never challenged, had provided them with such a distraction by complete accident when they'd asked Snailstride about the horseplace. StarClan knew who had told them about the tabby's frequent excursions there, not even Firefang would benefit to gain anything from gossiping about his fascination with the tall creatures that lived there. They wondered if they were searching for tricks of how to sneak there, but Snailstride wasn't too keen to share. Instead, their stories were about the horses themselves, beasts of burden whose teeth could crush rocks (allegedly) and whose coats could be marked like a cat's.

"And that's how Spidereater got his name." The warrior concluded one story, their smirk more sincere than it'd been in weeks as they finished discussing the wildest of the horseplace stallions. Their eyes shone with a sapphire intensity as they looked over the crowd, hoping to hook everyone onto every word they said about their favourite topic. It was the second story they'd told to the crowd so far. The first had been about a foal that strayed away from its mother and petted him, the second was about the cobweb destroying stallion whose presence as a territorial equine made it dangerous to enter the pens. Suddenly remembering a tale about the latter, they clapped their paws together, an excited trill escaping them. "Oh, did you know he almost killed me during a hunt once? There was this rabbit and he... reared his..." No sooner did Snailstride begin to sway, their body fell to the floor of the camp. Behind the bundle of fur, it was difficult to see the gentle rise and fall of a cat who'd begun to sleep, nor was the occasional twitch of an eye behind its lid easy to spot unless one was searching for it.

@heatherpaw !!

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[heathermoon !!]

There was something about that morning that had given a slow roll to the day. Heatherpaw had accidentally slept in, having fallen asleep next to his mother's nest after a long talk with her about nothing the night before. It appeared his mentor didn't want to disturb either of them, taking on the tunnels alone this time. It was odd not being beside Robinfang. There was rarely a day the pair weren't side by side to start their morning. Without a gesture or guide to tell him what to do, he joined with a few other apprentices that seemed to be pestering Snailstride.

He didn't know the warrior well himself, but was curious along with the others just exactly what his stories held. He listened, albeit boredly, to his tales of horses and how they earned their names. They sounded like dreadful creatures from the way Snailstride described them. Ornery and sometimes unpredictable, it was strange hearing them all have their own sense of personalities. That brought him to think about the horses, how they lived in herds. Was a herd like a Clan? Did they have their own lifestyle like they did?

His thoughts were shaken from his attention by the sound of Snailstride clapping his paws together. Mismatched eyes focused back on the Moor runner, only to fall in a look of panic when the tom slumped to the ground. There were a few beats of silence before Heatherpaw shouted, "S-Snailstride! I think he just...!" He couldn't say it. He didn't want to, did he just watch his Clanmate perish in front of him? He had looked, even acted, just fine moments before. His breaths began to grow shallow in a panic, backing away from Snailstride on shaky paws.​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ RED MACKEREL TABBY ✦ 7 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[Juniperpaw]

There is nothing better than storytime (other than sparring, eating a fresh mouse, star-gazing, etc.) and Juniperkit always listens with an eager expression. Snailstride is a good storyteller; they aren't as impressive as Tigerfrost used to be, but they are almost as entertaining as Snakepaw's stories. He likes to hear about the Horseplace. In his mind's eye, horses are tall like the deer that sometimes dash across the marshes, just more muscular with long faces like a dog (which he's never seen either, so they are just beefy stretched out cats). Horseplace is at the top of Juniperkit's list of places he wants to see when he becomes an apprentice. Surely he will be the one to befriend the proud beasts, then he will race home to Windclan with a great army to defeat the other clans with.

He is busy imagining how cool he would look on the back of the dog-faced-deer-legged horses when Snailstride trails off mid-sentence and collapses on the ground with a muted thunk, mouth parted and eyes twitching almost imperceptibly beneath their shuttered lids. Startled, Juniperkit is wrenched away from his daydreams and back into the present with shocking clarity. He pauses, glancing to Heatherpaw with a perturbed frown before trotting to the collapsed warrior's side and poking them with a white-mittened paw. "Hellooooooo??" calls the kit, projecting his voice into Snailstride's ear to see if he can get a response. "Snailstride???" Snail can't be dead...right? He crouches down to check that the warrior is still breathing.

Sure enough, Juniperkit can see the shallow rise and fall of Snailstride's chest. Relief floods through his as he turns back to Heatherpaw and the others with a wry smile. "Snailstride must've bored themself to sleep!" Juni jokes, then seems to remember that maybe this is still an emergency. "Should we get Vulturemask?" Is this the sort of thing Vulturemask is supposed to help with? The young tomcat doesn't know much about medicine cats but Windclan's own healer seems to faint a lot and Juni really doesn't want to have two unconscious cats on his paws.​

 

[.SUNNYMASK.]

— A WICKED LULLABYE MAKES YOU CRY IN YOUR SLEEP, BURYING YOUR HEAD IN A PILLOW

THEY'RE GONNA COME FROM EVERY CORNER OF YOUR DREAM FILLED MIND​

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Oh dear, it appears the newly named little kitty may have collapsed from a possibly boring story, causing quite a stir amongst the little toddlers with claws. Wide-eyed with a large grin upon her maw, Sunnymask would bounce her way over, her multi-colored tail curling behind her like a charmed snake as she curiously peered at Snailstride's collapsed form, a laugh beginning to bubble from her lips as she exclaimed, "Ah, the sweet lullaby of unconsciousness, where dreams and nightmares dance together. Bravo, my friend, for stealing the spotlight with a graceful collapse!" Her tail flicks merrily, glancing at the youngin's as they seem actually... worried about the slumbering warrior.

Her large ears perk at the idea of Vulturemask coming over, her smile widening. "Fetch him! Fetch him, fetch him! Surely he will get a kick out of this!" She says, sing-song in her tone. At the very least, she doesn't seem worried, in fact, if she remembered correctly, this was... sort of normal? Nonetheless, it was atleast a bit entertaining.​

 

[cygnetstare]

❝ WE'LL MEET AGAIN ☠︎°.♱ ————————————
Cygnetstare lurches behind Sunnymask like a pet corpse; a bleached-skull gaze leers from over the dual-toned cat's shoulder, grateful for the perpetual tender cloud cover of recent days if not for the excessive gusts of wind. That one long-furred foreleg swings, like the stripped wing of Satan, dull corpse eyes trained on the slumped form of Snailstride. A grating, dirt-choked giggle lurches out of their mouth, funeral music in its scratchy bravado, at their friend's words. Her skeletal frame would be indistinguishable from Sunnymask's own scrawny one if not for the color difference; the odor of grave dirt only serves to add a further pallor to the event.

The chimera's choices rarely seem to make sense to anyone but her and her equally bizarre friend, and as their head bobs drunkenly around the other warrior's like a freakshow display, stumbling and dirt-spattered, this rings true. Blank viscera eyes squint, seeming choked stupid by death, as their maw rises in an unsettling mew, "Vulturemask, Vulturemask ...?" as though they can't recall the medicine cat of the Clan they've inhabited much of their life; a fuse coils in muddy coffin soil and they nod, swaying inebriately. That dark-furred cat they've occasionally seen about camp, perhaps chatting with their compatriot here; Cygnetstare can't recall ever really needing to interact with the cat, having thus far been carefully avoidant of sunburn.

[penned by dejavu - 𓅯]

———————————— ♱.°☠︎ DON'T KNOW WHERE, DON'T KNOW WHEN ❞ ​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀❀​
periwinklebreeze | 11 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Ah - so this is how it feels to be on the other end of such an incident. Blue eyes blink rapidly in surprise when his friend nods off mid-word, and though things are a bit.. strained between them right now, the worry churns nonetheless. He can't even move before someone else takes over, does what he cannot in his momentary fright. "Um... I th-think someone s-s-said he's d-done this before," he says slowly, moving forwards to nudge snailstride carefully with his head. He's... still breathing thankfully, so just asleep and not anything worse. He has absolutely no idea what to do - nobody's ever told him what they do when he faints after all.
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