Mudrackers | moss gathering

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Of all the duties necessary to keep a clan strong and healthy, from hunting to fighting to the tasks usually foisted off to apprentices such as helping elders get rid of ticks, there is none that Snakeblink considers below him. He is a lead warrior; he ought to lead by example in every way he can.

That is not to say he doesn’t have favorites, and least favorites. His dislike for most border patrols is well-documented, if rarely broadcasted, and the thought of working in or near the river always brings some energy to his steps that is usually missing. But this--

He looks down at the mud creeping up his legs all the way to his chest with no small amount of distaste. This he truly does not like. No matter how important it is for them to gather fresh moss for the camp.

”How comes our harvest? Shall we find a little more moss? ” He asks, glancing back at his patrol and the bundles of moss they have gathered and piled up on dry patches of ground. ”I fear that the mud may eventually smother me to death if given the chance, but I suppose those are the risks we take for our clanmates.” His voice strains a little under his attempt at levity, and he ducks down to awkwardly lick some mud off his paw (rather ineffectively).​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely​

ooc. information.

• Patrol w/ @turtlepaw @Gladefrost @EVENINGPAW @splashpaw ! but feel free to join in
  [The amount of mud over here is really gross, so the patrol takes a pause to clean themselves and trade stories]
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 54 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[eveningpaw]

The mud is alive — or so Eveningpaw thinks with no hope of swaying her mind towards facts and logic. Squelch, squelch, squelch, it says with every paw put down and every subsequent raise of it. It's like it is actively protesting against the patrol that treads the gross environment... and if it wasn't for Snakeblink and Gladefrost, Eveningpaw would probably join its rebellion by turning on her heels and finding clean water to wash herself off at.

Alas. The patrol is not yet over; the lead warrior signals for them to stop, and Eveningpaw has to bite back a frustrated sigh, lest the sky falls down on her in sync with disapproval from authority. The age-old question definitely shows on her face though: can't we just get on with it?

"Is- tfhis- efnugh?"

Her attempts at communicating fall short. There's enough moss in her mouth to reach her nose and limit her breathing, and with how much more she presses between her chin and chest, settling down as per Snakeblink's order is not so easy. Eveningpaw lets the cage moss fall to the ground first, before the rest can follow... and it does not take a keen pair of eyes to see the mud flaking amongst the foraged greenery, courtesy of her white chest being stained in the first place. "Oh no..."
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[Gladefrost]

Every step had the mud seeping between her toes and it was honestly... disgusting. The texture of the mud felt weird on her pawpads and stained the white of her coat. She'd collected a decent amount of moss and the moss fills and drapes from her jaws, as she catches a glance at Eveningpaw. Snakeblink's inquiry makes her glance at Eveningpaw, who too has a suffocating amount of moss in her hold. Gladefrost settles her collection of slate of rock settled in the dry earth and shakes her head at Snakeblink. ”I think we have enough moss and mud to keep camp stocked for a while.” She admits as she shakes a mismatched paw, attempting to get some of the mud off before she groomed herself.

It would probably be a good time to take a swim after this and teach Eveningpaw about swimming, and maybe some water combat skills if she shows potential in it. A cold chambray gaze flicks to Eveningpaw who seems depressed about her white chest being stained with mud, and she wants to pat her on the head in comfort (but she too is covered in mud). ”We'll go swimming after this and get cleaned up after we drop this off at camp.” Glade rumbles softly.
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[LOVEBURN]

✦•··········•✦•··········•✦ He watches the mud steadily overtake his dark fur with each bout of moss-foraging, and all the while his thoughts battle for some dominant impression of its relentless endurance. The obvious is discomfort: he doesn't like how it clumps thickly in his fur, and the sight of his pelt —beautiful, starbrushed, combed by river waves— disappearing beneath makes him uneasy. It reminds him of the cats that would see his father's blood uprooted, who may be present in this very patrol, feigning innocence and ignorance to Loveburn's face. But it is not all doom and gloom, kittenish mischief plotting behind his eyes as he takes in his clanmates' faces.

Briefly, Snakeblink's enlivened comment drags him back to such unpleasantries of his shadowy schemers. Would you die for me, Snakeblink? Kill for me? The intensity of his thoughts weighs more heavily than the drying muck plastered to his legs.

He smiles and scoops not moss, but mud into his tilted paw. Chunks of it slop off of the sides, plopping back into the greater sea of sludge. "Chin up, Eveningpaw. We're not so easily defeated by a bit of wet soil, are we?" His grin goes crooked. "A distraction couldn't hurt, though. Say, Snakeblink, you keep your ear to the ground, don't you?" Loveburn's paw flicks and sends a glob of mud flying toward the side of Snakeblink's head. "Have any dirt to share?"

loveburn (formerly lovepaw and starlightpaw) — currently thirteen moons old
son of cicadastar & smokestar — brother to cicadaflight & beefang — he/him
single & not really looking — peaceful/nonviolent actions may be powerplayed
please note that loveburn has persecutory delusions & sometimes personal prose
will make patently untrue assumptions and mischaracterizations of other people.

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