NEREVAR RISING | haretooth

[FERNDANCE]

Even as the frog's song began to dissipate with ShadowClan's overhunting, the music of the mire still croaked its groaning tune as the dusk patrol continued its search for prey. Mud caked Ferndance's legs from the top of her shoulders to the tips of her toes, her hunt likely didn't need to take her into the worst of her home's waters, but in her excitement to catch more amphibians before they disappeared, she'd taken the most direct path to her marks. Three frogs had already been slain by the she-cat and left buried for later collection, one for each of her youngest who could not yet hunt for themselves. There were more mouths to feed than them, but with the most important cats in the tabby's life taken care of, she felt comfortable taking a short respite. Settled by the edge of a duckweed-smothered pond, Ferndance watched the very centre of it, where a stone jutted out of it as if it were a Clanrock for frogs. She thought the moniker fitting, given the giant toad precariously balanced upon it.

It didn't budge its warty behind even as it spotted the warrior gawking at it, as if it believed the cat would not be stupid enough to hunt something so blatantly poisonous. The toad was... half-correct. Eating things of questionable nutritional value was a specialty of the cinnamon tabby, prodding things likely to harm her was another signature strategy to learn about the many dangers of the world. Natural selection hadn't taken her yet, likely because it feared the lead belly of someone with the self-preservation skills of an egg. Ideas bounced around in Ferndance's head, replaced frequently by others that seemed even more bombastic and revealing. Then, before any could come to light, there was a noise behind her - the squelch of paws, the snap of a twig, something. She felt a shadow at her back and turned her head, wide eyes settling on Haretooth. Excitement thrummed in her heart, a fellow intellectual would understand the sacrifices needed for investigation. Without so much of a greeting, the earnest-looking she-cat mewed, "I want to lick it." A compromise between consumption and observation, enough to taste the toad without risking getting mortally ill. "Do you think it would let me?" Maybe it wouldn't try and kill her if she got its consent.

[ retro to snowypaw's disappearance -- @Haretooth ]

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[Haretooth]

"INDELIBLE IS WHAT I NEED TO SPREAD THE WORD."​

It wasn’t difficult to figure out that a clan-mate was out here. One would need to simply follow the path of destruction throughout the marsh, the paw prints helped as well. Haretooth took great pride in himself for being a decent tracker but even a kit could have figured out how to track down whoever this was. His dutiful sleuthing had led him towards a duckweed-smothered pond. His paws sinking into the marsh the closer he trekked towards it, he grimaced at the hardening mud on his fur but he supposed sacrifices must be made for the act of contribution, his pursuits may even save a life if he considered himself delusional to actually believe that.

It wasn’t particularly surprising to see Ferndance there but he smiled at the sight anyways, he took great pleasure in conversing with her. It was unspoken terms but he would deem her a friend, a fellow scholar, even if her methods were often a little too whimsical and outlandish for his own personal standards. He was hard pressed to find kindred spirits, his methods seen as foolish or cruel by others. That was fine with him, he never expected others to reach that acceptance. He still plagued the camp with his opinions, that was never going to deter him from still committing to his studies.

The she-cat often agreed with him, even contributing to extending his studies and hypotheticals further. He would label her as endearing, though he could never tell when she was completely serious about something or attempting to pull his leg. He applied a heavier pressure to his paws, ensuring the squelching of the mud was louder than it should be, so he wouldn’t frighten her on his approach.

Sufficiently satisfied that she was aware of his presence, the pale tom took his place to sit down next to her. He tucked himself in tightly, hoping to not bring parts of this pond back home with him. “You would ask for permission?” He carried surprise in his tone, an incredulous look given to the warrior. Fangs gnawed lightly at his tongue, applying soft pressure as he considered her question. As usual, he decided to opt into taking her queries at face value, he was aware that this may be a poor choice. However, he was interested to see what would happen, she was correct in wagering that he would understand the sacrifices needed to be given for the sake of knowledge.

“Well, I’m more than content to supervise you in this pursuit.” He decided with a nod, there was that dilemma on if the fat little toad would permit such an act. As he stared at the warted abomination lay upon a rock in what felt like a mockery to ShadowClan he found that the creature would more likely than not be happy about it. Instincts would take its course, he could hardly imagine it sitting very politely for Ferndance to lick it. Yet, he had to admit that he did find amusement in the concept.

“Why don’t you converse with it? Surely since you speak frog you would know what it would be saying.” There was a playful lilt to his tone as his maw splits into a wide grin. He recalls her proclamations of being able to speak a language that shouldn’t be possible. Haretooth wished to see if that was possible at all, if it was then he would be happy to admit his defeat, however, he was sceptical.
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✯☽✯​