pafp NEVER GONNA WIN — guard duty

[CLAYFUR]

Guard duty. It happens to be one of his favorite assignments, if only because it means he doesn’t have to go far from camp. He isn’t opposed to leaving camp, anyway, but the colder the air gets, the more his hip seems to hurt. Shot through with spikes of pain, it makes getting up and sitting down more difficult than ever—and long walks are beginning to become just a bit unbearable. He hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else yet, not even his beloved, because what if he’s a burden? The clan is already under stress, both from the weather and from the other clans. The lead warriors are both not at their best, and RiverClan can’t afford to have another warrior in the medicine den. What if he mentions it to Beesong and is told to stay on nest-rest? There’s no way he’s risking it. So he makes every excuse not to leave camp for very long, while still performing the duties expected of a warrior. This is the perfect task for him.

Well… almost perfect. Because while he enjoys the company of the warrior at his side, he’s not so easily occupied. The chocolate tom is distracted, really, by the sand that he’s digging his paws into—because it’s nice to chew on, even if he’s been called an idiot for eating it. "Loach, you gotta try this shtuff," he grits out, chomping down on a pawful of sand. Of course, he’s still keeping an eye out on the camp, but he’s also keeping an eye on his snack.

// pls wait for @Loachripple !!
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[Loachripple]

Loachripple was dying inside. It was so hard to stay awake when it was so quiet. And with no distraction??? Dude. The cold air and snow doesn't help either. He wants to close his eyes, shield them from the cold, dry air. He wants to curl up and keep his paws warm.

But he was a STRONG warrior. He would not be DEFEATED.

So when he saw Clayfur start crunching on sand...... He wanted in on that.

"No, I've never... Even considered eating sand before." He said.

Which was a lie. He has. More than once.

He looked at the sand at his paws......and took a mouthful.

...........

...........................

He enjoyed the crunch. The texture. The flavor, not quite. But........

"Oh, hell yeah. This is great."

And so, Loachripple was converted to the art of chewing sand. Not that it was difficult.

"I should do this more often."


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[cranecatcher]

TAGS — Clayfur is a good warrior. He's kind, and as far as Cranecatcher can tell, competent. He isn't aware of the tom's struggles with his pain, but if he was, maybe he'd even commend him for toughing it out for the sake of the clan- not that that was healthy, probably. He wouldn't know. He's not a medicine cat. But what he does know is that eating sand is fairly unbecoming, and it's not something he expected to see Clayfur doing. Not to mention Loachfur joining in- did he really give in to peer pressure that easily? He's on his way back into camp from a patrol when he approaches them.

"Wow! This is really, uh, unique. Like, this is a really weird thing that you're doing," Cranecatcher chimes, acidicly amused and cheerily displeased. Two grown warriors eating... sand? Is this what RiverClan has come to? He feels the closest to a WindClanner in this moment than he ever has before. If anything, he'd expect this behavior of kits, but even they knew not to eat what wasn't edible. He doesn't hate either tom, of course, and would never dare dream of making fun of them (oh certainly not), but this is really unbecoming, and he can't stand idly by. "What's up with that? Did you decide you're gonna become catfish instead of just cats?"​

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[RIMEFELL]

The aging warrior is a low-walking shadow among the spires of reeds and lea girdling the RiverClan camp. Not far from his prowling path is muffled chatter, and his long-traveled paws do not hesitate to pivot in the direction of several distinct voices. The scene he finds is this: two RiverClan warriors, names ceremonially bestowed as recognition of their prowess, bending their maws to the sand and supping on it while another warrior shares his disdain with glee. He does not immediately react. His scarred features betray nothing, as emotive as the moon when it is but a faint halo of light.

Then, without warning, Rimefell raises a callused paw and aims a cuffing blow to Clayfur's ear, followed in quick succession by another for Loachripple's. "You would eat anything small enough for your mouth," he says in a scathing rasp to Clayfur, and to Loachripple he merely narrows his stare into a warning. He places distance between them, closer to Cranecatcher than the sand-swallowers. He spares him an unreadable glance, one free of the withering judgment for Clayfur and Loachripple.

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[CLAYFUR]

Loachripple is a good guarding partner, if only because he takes little convincing to start eating sand like it’s their only form of sustenance. The other tom readily joins him in his quest to clear the beach of sand, and Clay’s ears flick happily. "It’sh, like, sho good, right? Crunchy." He’s about to agree with Loachripple, they both should do this more often, but the sound of pawsteps draws his attention to the rosetted tom who approaches them.

Cranecatcher’s tone if thick with distaste, or sarcasm, or something like that. Clay is a bit preoccupied, after all, and the crunching of sand in his ears muffles his clanmate’s voice. "You gotta try it," he says, grinning at the other tom. He isn’t able to say much more, though, because a paw hits his ear, just like his mother’s used to when he would act up.

Clayfur helps, fur bristling in surprise. "Hey!" He hastily covers his ears with both paws, guarding them from any more harsh slaps. The sand falls from his mouth, jaw flopping open like he’s in shock. It takes a few moments—of his brain, like, rebooting or something—before he wrestles his tongue into remembering how to speak. "That’s so mean! But, I mean, if it fits in my mouth…"
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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