national mossball league | playing


He strolled into the center of the camp, lifting an arm up to reveal the mossball balanced neatly atop the pad of his right paw like it was some kind of trophy being presented for the clan to see. It had been a while since he'd just done something fun, with everything going on and his new duties he did not have much time for nonsensical exercises and silliness, but today that changed. Today he would assert himself and stake his claim to his self-given title of ULTIMATE MOSSBALL CHAMPION. A coveted position he had guarded since he was a kitten in the barn, thought they had called it ball toss and used round rocks to skitter about across the ground, the moorland cats used moss which he favored more because an accidental toss was less likely to hurt a cat if it goes flying in a direction it was not meant to. Deepening his voice slightly to mimic Sootstar's own commanding tone he lifted his head up to make his challenge known, "Let all cats who reckon they can tangle toes with a true mossball playin' legend step RIGHT ON UP AND GIVE ME YOUR BEST!" The ball was tossed up lightly, he let it roll across the ground in front of him before all four long brown legs slid into a partial crouch in preparation to take out the first feline who tried to pick a fight with him. It was all fun and games and he would keep his claws sheathed, but the literal first cat who made a move would be faced with the sepia-toned blur that was Dandelionpaw leaping into them for a grapple to knock them both across the camp in a chaotic tumble.
"His defenses are too great! He blocks the attacker! What will the daring newcomer do NEXT?!"

Ooc;
For my prompt uwu Feel free to be the cat he bodied, if you're a warrior you are free to pretend you let him do it!

 

Ivoryflight had little idea what was to come. Unaware of Dandelionpaw at the moment, she entered camp, walking in his direction to place the bird between her jaws upon the fresh-kill pile. It wouldn’t take long for her to be knocked off her paws, glancing at Dandy with a rather puzzled and almost hurt expression. Once aware of the fact that he was only playing and hand’y meant to knock her over (or the breath from her lungs) she would be happy to join in, fully understanding of the situation. “Dandy! What was that for? What’s going on?
 
He pads into camp after Ivoryflight, letting the pheasant drop from his jaws before he watches with wide eyes as a sepia explodes into the pale warrior's flank and knocks her over. An errant ball of moss skids across camp floor -- a hard-won trophy, it seems.

The tabby hadn't played moss ball as a kit, but he and his brother had had games, sure. Plenty of games. Vole hadn't been particularly good at any of them, always more interested in napping or letting the Twoleg kits pet him, but Weaselclaw recognizes a child's game when he sees one.

He smirks and walks a half-circle around Dandelionpaw and Ivoryflight. "Wow. I was gonna ask to play the winner, but the competition is weak around here," he says with a lofty shrug. He's not one to play games while work is to be done, but he's been on two hunting patrols today and brought back fresh-kill each time. He wouldn't mind a bit of a break, especially an active one.

PENNED BY MARQUETTE
 

"now, who's spoutin' all this big ol' talk 'bout bein' the mossball legend cuz it sure better not be who ah think it is!"

coming in from the right of the trio with a confident stride was none other than shrewpaw who heard the ruckus from where she was previously sat. the chocolate sepia swept a curious gaze over the warriors who were here already, one being her mentor who was the unfortunate victim to her brothers sudden surprise tackle before it flicked over to weaselclaw who looked to be sizing up the others and tacking on how they didn't look that tough to beat.

a scoff escaped from shrewpaw. "you sure 'bout that, old man? i reckon i can run circles 'round you before ya could even blink!" playful challenge oozed from her words, he probably could have her beat easy but the apprentice thrived off challenging others at whatever it may be and if she won, well, that's absolutely free bragging rights that she gets to have and rub in their faces.
[ penned by cobi ]
 

Oh, he'd never known moss ball to be so violent! What a fun game it was for kittens, though as one grew older apparently peace grew a duller option. Two kittens clashing in play-combat was less disruptive than two fully-grown cats, but who cared? It looked like fun, smashing of skulls against ground aside, as Dandelionpaw and Ivoryflight collapsed into a rolling ball. Sidling up to Weaselclaw's side, ever-unaware of distaste anyone may hold for him, unblinking eyes settled upon the pair, soon snapping to Shrewpaw as she spoke up in gruff challenge.

"Does the winner get a prize?" he asked gleefully, night-dipped paws kneading the ground in excitement. He'd be willing to give Dandelionpaw a run for his money if there was something worth his while on the table! Maybe some kind of delicious meal, or a strangely-shaped squirrel-bone... his bar was not high, truly.
[ PENNED BY PIN ]
 

Dandelionpaw is making a racket, all over some moss ball and kicking it around.

Thymepaw is intrigued at first - after all, his brother wants to play, and it isn't all that often that the fawn-point finds himself with the opportunity to play such games. He's always off doing other things - being the one to actually clean out the old moss, for example, rather than kicking it around.

But, he's got some downtime.

Ruddy paws step forward to take up his brother's offer, only for - oh, stars, only for Dandelionpaw to run into Ivoryflight. Only for Weaselclaw - a lead warrior - to show up. Only for Mallowlark - who Thymepaw's sure is probably a nice cat, but whose odd demeanor makes him even more nervous - to show up as well. Suddenly, he doesn't want to play anymore, with so many cats.

But, among the crowd forming, his sister shows up too, and maybe that's alright, if both of his siblings are here amidst the chaos? How bad could it be, really?

"I'm gonna play too," he announces, determination-filled eyes looking towards his littermates. "And... And I'm gonna beat both of y'all!"
 
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Hyacinth didn't enjoy being around kits often- it wasn't because she disliked them, it was mainly because of her own insecurity over if she could hurt them. They were small, tiny, and fragile- weak to sickness and easily kidnapped should their caretakers take their eyes off of them. Hyacinth never thought she'd be a good mother, but she was a damn good mentor.

She watches the apprentices as they cheerfully get ready to join Dandelionpaw's game, fully drawn into the medicine cat apprentice's antics. Hyacinth can't help but let a small little smile grace her face. "Woah there, kiddos. Weasel might be old, but his joints work just fine; with the exception of when they creak like a board." She jokes with a teasing grin, tired eyes moving over to Ivoryflight, then to Mallowlark. This seems like a kits game, but the tom seems excited to join.

"How does one.. Go about this game?"
 

Untangling himself from the pile he had sent himself and Ivoryflight into he gave a laugh and batted at the mossball he'd sent tumbling along the way with him, knocking it accidentally too far where it rolled into Weaselclaw's foot and he shook his head and stretched before standing back upright with a friendly headbump to the pale she-cat's head. He didn't figure the lead warrior would be as familiar with the game as the others were, had never really struck him as the playful type-then again not most of WindClan's older warrior did.
One by one he sees his clanmates poke their heads in, curious and interested in a little friendly roughhousing and he wriggled in place excitedly

"Shrewpaw, ye know ah've BEATEN YE MORE THAN YOU'VE BEATEN ME!" Maybe, perhaps, he really couldn't remember it was so long ago, but he wasn't about to admit that. He turns his haughty smirk from her to Thymepaw where it's softer and more sincere, a curt smile and a nod of the head. He hadn't played with his siblings in so long, it would nice to do so again.
"Yer only prize is the taste o'victory, Mallowlark." And he guessed you could keep the mossball.

Hyacinthbreath speaks, asking how to play and he quickly formulates an easier set of rules in his head than the more complex and kitten nonsense ones he used to go by; something everyone would understand and wouldn't take too long to explain.
"Game's simple like! Whoever's got the mossball by the time-" His tail flicks, gesturing to the shadow of the rolling hills around them that peaked into the center of the camp, just barely touching the freshkill pile, "-that thar shadow goes back to the edge o'the camp: wins!"
He leans forward, turns and sweeps the ball away from the brown tabby's paws back into the middle of the camp, the sun was slowly dipping down-they would be on a short timer, "'Claws sheathed! If ye make me work harder than I already do ah'm gonna be CROSS!" This was meant to be a fun break for him, if he had to patch up cuts cause someone got a little too uppity with the mossball he'd be plucking hairs from them til a bald patch formed.
"GO!"