pafp NORMAL PEOPLE ᯓ★ SHARING A MEAL

[DIPPERFROST]

The faint scent of herbs lingered in the air as Dipperfrost wove through the camp, a trout clasped carefully between her jaws. The sky above had begun its slow descent into dusk, streaked with the warm hues of fading sunlight, but the evening bustle of camp stirred on. Warriors murmured in clusters, apprentices darted between tasks, and the faint hum of daily life surrounded her. Yet, as she neared the medicine cats' den, the world seemed to quiet.

Beefang sat just beyond the trailing ivy, her silhouette framed against the stone. The faint stiffness in her posture did not escape Dipperfrost's sharp gaze—nor did the faint tension lingering in her shoulders. Still, the lead warrior sat with a certain pride, a presence not easily diminished by injury.

Slowing her steps, Dipperfrost lowered her head to place the trout beside her paws before stopping a respectful distance away. For a heartbeat, she considered leaving the prey and continuing on her way. But she did not turn. "Beefang?" Her voice was soft, steady. "Mind if I join you for a meal?"

The faint plume of her breath lingered in the cooling air as she lowered herself gracefully onto her haunches, tail curling neatly over her paws. Her gaze, calm and unreadable as ever, studied the other she-cat with quiet intent. Beneath the surface, though, lay a thread of something gentler—concern, unspoken yet present. "I thought you might be hungry," she continued, nudging the trout slightly forward with her paw. "And… I wanted to see how you're holding up after the fight with ThunderClan."

The faint twitch of her whiskers betrayed a flicker of uncertainty—concern was not something she voiced often. Yet, here, it felt necessary. Tilting her head, she added, "If you're up for it, we could share tongues. It might help ease the aches." With that, she fell silent, leaving the choice in Beefang's paws.

// please wait for @BEEFANG

( ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ) to the sun, there's nothing higher

• 
• 
  DIPPERFROSTRIVERCLAN WARRIOR; SHE / HER ; SWANTUFT X FINLEAP
  
  

  Dipperfrost is a tall, slender she-cat with a white coat broken by blue tabby patches, a tuft of curls atop her head, and a star-shaped marking on her forehead. Her brilliant blue eyes—one flecked with a yellow starburst—are often half-lidded, lending her a distant, unreadable expression. Quiet and observant, she speaks with purpose, choosing honesty over comfort and control over chaos. Her aloof demeanor and measured composure make her difficult to approach, but for those who earn her trust, she is fiercely loyal. Though cynical and pragmatic, she remains a steady, unshaken presence, ever watchful of the world around her.

  ✦ Difficult in battle + a skilled fighter

 

[BEEFANG]

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ The medicine den isn't unfamiliar to her seeing as she sleeps in the den alongside her mate, Moonbeam, every night and she has gotten accustomed to the sour smell of herbs that clung to both the pelts of either medicine cats and their den. She just hated it when the pungent smell is attached to her like a hungry, festering leech though its in form of the poultice carefully massaged into her wounds that she had recieved from the Thunderclan patrol that had attempted to steal away their Sunningrocks. The sound of approaching pawsteps causes her ears to twitch knowing that its either one of her littermates coming to check up on her or someone there needing to see either Moonbeam or Robinheart, to her surprise... it isn't any of her brothers but the aloof tabby that had once trained underneath Lichenstar and her honey hued eye focuses onto her for a long moment expecting the other molly to simply drop off the prey and be on her way.

It seems that her day is full of surprises today as Dipperfrost asks to join her for a meal and mentions sharing tongues, it causes her pale whiskers to twitch in brief thought though she doesn't allow any of the surprise to bleed into her expression. The offer of a trout is already tentalizing enough and Beefang relents knowing that she should become closer with her fellow warriors, they looked up to her in a sense given how she holds a position of power now and serves in Lichenstar's council "I wouldn't mind." The black smoke says at last patting a spot near her with the paw that seems to be missing a toe and if the blue tabby settles close, she awaits for the other to take a bite of the fish first as one of her ears twitch irritably at the thought of Thunderclan.

"Those rats from the forest have been such a pain in the ass for Riverclan as of late." She says rather bitterly as her snout wrinkles to form a silent snarl that reveals her fangs of what she had been named for and her claws dig briefly into her nest not caring if the moss is torn in the process, "I wish I could've ripped that molly a new one getting in the way of me attacking that damn brute." A brief mention of Scarletdust and Raccoonstripe, she had distaste for both of them but mainly the black tabby and a low huff slips from her jaws as she adjusts position in the nest to be more comfortable. "Once the ice thaws... they'll need to think twice before trying to mess with us again." The black smoke states confidently with a clack of her jaws but she doesn't mean about waging a war but simply that the river wouldn't kill them for falling into it, her tail curls around her side as a sigh slips from her jaws.

𓆩✦𓆪

BEEFANGㅤBIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
✦ㅤtrans female (she / her)ㅤ/ㅤasexual homoromantic, taken by moonbeam
✦ㅤ18 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 10th of the month
✦ㅤwarrior of riverclan for 6 moons
✦ㅤsmokestar x cicadastarㅤ/ㅤolder sister to cicadaflight & loveburn
✦ㅤmentoring roepawㅤ/ㅤmentored by smokestar & houndstride
✦ㅤpenned by BossTaurusㅤ/ㅤmessage bosstaurus on discord for plots!
✦ "speech", thoughts, & attacking ; uses brute strength, fights dirty/unfair, and will end/start fights
a short/curly-haired black smoke moggy littered in several scars, missing a toe on one of her paws, and has a lone amber eye w/low white

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

CICADAFLIGHT

HE/HIM ☆ RIVERCLAN WARRIOR

Evening is Cicadaflight's least favorite time of day. It's the time when the sun starts to sink, purpling the sky an ugly, bruised color. The air sings with the burble of many voices and footsteps as the apprentices giggle between jobs and the warriors settle down to share tongues, prey, and gossip. Little efficiency is left, its vacant space filled by vacant-eyed conversations and the claws-up-your-spine sight of pelts pressing together.

His ragged ears tip back, tufts of unkempt curls dripping beads of water he hadn't bothered to wring out. Temples pulsing with a kithood pain, jaw notched tight and painful against the hard, angry planes of his face, he drags himself resolutely towards Moonbeam's den. Or at least he plans to, until his intended path is blocked by a pair of bodies. Irritation rustles his coat, lifts sodden strands to spikes along his shoulders; his torn muzzle curls unhappily. Out of everywhere in camp, really?

He clears his throat harshly. " Do you always prefer to eat directly in the way? " His meow is just short of a bark, indifferent to the familiarity of his sister's face. Simpering, cooing… he wasn't even free of it in the medicine den, the nurturing clucks of are you okay? His jaw tightens until he thinks it might splinter at its joint. Beefang could clearly handle herself. She didn't need Dipperfrost fussing over her like a milkfed kit, and he certainly didn't need to watch it.

Well, he's not obligated to—unless, of course, Beefang decides it's within the scope of her duties to order him to. He huffs a sharp breath out of his nose and lurches past the two, hoping Moonbeam lingers somewhere in the depths of the den. Otherwise, he'd endured that whole display for nothing.

ooc:

—

accordion

Cicadaflight is a hulking black-and-white tom with tangled, curly fur and heterochromatic amber and salt-blue eyes. There is a jagged scar torn into the right side of his face, and he wears three pairs of luna moth wings behind both ears.

cicadastar x smokestar / brother to beefang & loveburn / kin to many
mentored by iciclefang / mentoring n/a
19 moons old as of 2/5/2025

penned by dejavu

 

[bubbleburst]

〔✦〕Bubbleburst enjoys the number of friendly, familiar faces that she gets to share prey and tongues with on a regular basis. Of course, she tries to at least talk to everyone, but even the personable Bubbleburst often can be found mostly with those she is already close friends with. Like Dipperfrost and Beefang, who just so happen to be already mid-sharing when she finally sidles over to the freshkill pile for a morsel. She wastes no time picking up a rather fat minnow and moseying past them while asking "Do you both mind if I join in?" During a lull in their conversation.

She barely has a chance to settle herself before... Cicadaflight. Bubbleburst would like to think that even though she is closest to Beefang, she gets along with all of Smokestar's children. But Cicadaflight still presents a challenge. She fights back a frown in his direction. Her naivety almost drives her to ask if he wants help with some of the tangles in his coat. "Wouldn't you like to join us, maybe?" Bubbleburst tries lightly. It's a poor shot in the dark, but a shot nonetheless.

sucker love, a box i choose ( no other box i choose to use ) !!

• ooc.
• BUBBLEBURST —— warrior of riverclan , mentoring twinklepaw . mudjaw x breezeflower . littermate to swanpaw ✦ penned by carat
  ✦ she/her / 16 moons & ages every 13th
  ✦ single / bisexual / open to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— not a strong fighter, often prefers diplomacy and strategy over strength and battle skills
  
  ✦ "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a mediumhaired silver marbled tabby with moderate white and blue eyes

​

​

 

[shellpool]

she had returned from her hunting patrol for honey ; humiliating, if she had not done so many times before. a wicked hiccup in her chest leaves her too short of breath as she hobbles towards moonbeam's den, unable to do much more than wheeze and cough her way back to camp for treatment. the trio of mollies go nearly unnoticed as she blearily hobbles her way into the dimly - lit den, trudging by them and towards the stocks where their medicine cat had taught her to seek her usual remedy. her sniffling is enough to let them know where she heads, a constant, breathy snff, guh, snff . . falling from ailing maw when she begins to nose through patches of herbs to find the comb that sits blessedly aside for her.

she is lapping the sweet nectar when the world inally begins to straighten itself out, rheumy vision clearing jut enough to make out dipperfrost and bubbleburst where they warm either side of her cousin's white - speckled flanks. there is a pang, strange and unbidden, upon seeing one of them tucked so close . . shellpool blinks, tuning into their conversation late, head still swimming with the sudden burst of oxygen that snakes its way down her raw throat and inflates lily - pale lungs with a soft gasp. the curled lead warrior is rambling when mismatched ears tune in, talk of thunderclan and their never - ending audacity drifting through her mind like a thick haze. her tongue flicks from between anemic light lips, catching where gold drips syrupy slow along the length of a single pale whisker.

cicadaflight's presence is sudden, barking . . a great, broad stature that imposes a haunting shadow upon the girls and their bloodied meal. his singular icy eye gleams an angry salt blue in the dark. she knows he is angry before it's voiced, the stiffness in sharply - patterned shoulders and the hunch in his spine that seems to curl further each time he encountered his twin. he clears his throat, harsh against the girls tittering conversation. his words, predictably, are venomous when they come ; spat like a dog's flying spittle when it snaps, mongrel - like, against its fraying tether, " cicadaflight. " fluttering vocals are strained, warbling moreso than usual, but still lingers towards the warning huff she'd intended.

cicadaflight held a special place in her fluttering heart, time - greyed memories of his blood seeping through the ivory curls over her shoulder, the warmth soothing her through the sharpest panic she had ever felt. curled at his side after a nightmare, smelling the hearbs that stitched his reedish arms and letting it lull her into a sleep that had been peaceful for the first time in days. she can tell his disatisfaction, the slow simmer of anger the grew within him like a fresh welt, pooling blood at the open gouge over his heart. ever since iciclefang's public humiliation, ever since his sister's promotion to lichenstar's council, he had begun to pull himself into the shadows further and further. her wet eyes lift, still weary with the remnants of her flare up, and stares at him when he shoves forward with something unwavering. something familiar, haunting, carmine dark.

she mirrors him, even more now that she had then. their traumas align, and lichenstar had instilled her with an eye too sharp for her own good . . pebbletail hovers above her, with his title and his mate and their brewing litter. illness curls her spine again into a hunch, and finally, she breaks her gaze away from him to gasp a little, choking on a hiccup as he moves further into the den ( inadvertently, towards her ), " she finds too much trouble . . at thunderclans borders . . to find it here, as well. " she it musters, slowly, quietly, cutting her pupils his way. trouble . . how long would it be until she fell into their claws for the last time, despite her boasting? did he ever think of it, after losing his parents? had pebbletail's incident had only made her even softer?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ₊˚໒꒱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• ooc.
• 
• SHELLPOOL . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓆝 ࿐ SHE / HER, 14☽s OLD. WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN ; HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR. SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS ---------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.

  

  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted eiderdown fur conceals a body worn thin by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is delicately constructed as the rest of her ; heart - shaped, fragile, tendered with warmly shadowed eyes. beneath the languor of lapis - veined lids, her gaze brims a rheumy, rosen tinge — ruddy like a pulsing bruise, curtained with heavy lashes that keep her serenely half - lidded.
  

  LIVING WITH LONGTERM ILLNESS ; always exhibiting the symptoms of a lingering cold, most notably a runny nose and eyes. not contagious unless specified otherwise.

 

[DIPPERFROST]

Dipperfrost settled into place beside Beefang with a measured grace, the trout positioned neatly between them. The dark smoke's acceptance of her offer was enough to satisfy her—even if Beefang's face betrayed little emotion, Dipperfrost could sense the faintest shift in her energy, a subtle sign of appreciation. That was enough.

As Beefang's bitter words filled the space between them, Dipperfrost's tail flicked lightly, her gaze resting on the other she-cat's wounded paw. She had no love for ThunderClan either, and she wouldn't pretend to. "They've never known when to quit," she murmured, voice even. "But they'll regret pushing their luck with RiverClan." Her claws kneaded the ground, recalling the sight of ThunderClan warriors scrambling back into the trees. If they thought RiverClan would roll over, they were sorely mistaken.

Bubbleburst's approach was easy to sense—her energy was always light, effortless, like a ripple across calm water. Dipperfrost offered a small nod of acknowledgment, shifting slightly to make space. "I don't mind," she said simply, though there was an unspoken understanding between them. Bubbleburst was one of the few cats she found herself gravitating toward, much like Beefang, despite their differences. There was something about the company of capable warriors that put her at ease.

The ease shattered when Cicadaflight's sharp voice cut through the gathering like claws through reeds. His irritation was palpable, a storm brewing beneath his already jagged exterior. Dipperfrost's ear twitched at his words, but she kept her expression carefully composed, unreadable. "If the path to the medicine den is too crowded for your liking, you're welcome to find another route," she said, cool and controlled, meeting his mismatched eyes for the briefest moment. She wasn't one to rise to provocation, but Cicadaflight had a way of making his contempt known—loudly.

Before the air could settle, a new sound—a quiet, breathy rasp—drew Dipperfrost's attention. Her sharp gaze flicked toward Shellpool as the pale warrior moved with unsteady steps. A twinge of concern flickered beneath Dipperfrost's composed exterior, though she knew better than to voice it outright. Shellpool was strong-willed, a cat who wouldn't appreciate being coddled, but the way she blinked blearily at them, the faint glaze of exhaustion in her eyes, made something tighten in Dipperfrost's chest. She didn't move immediately, merely observing as Shellpool's gaze lingered on their small group—on Beefang, specifically. Was it worry? Or something else? Whatever the reason, the sight of Shellpool, worn and ailing, was enough to make Dipperfrost's jaw tighten slightly.

She wanted to say something. But before she could find the words, Shellpool's voice—soft, strained—drifted toward Cicadaflight. It was a quiet admonishment, but Dipperfrost caught the underlying meaning. Trouble at the border was one thing, but bringing it into camp was another.

Dipperfrost exhaled softly, her tail curling around her paws as she glanced back toward Beefang. "Sounds like you aren't the only one with complaints about ThunderClan." Her tone was neutral, but there was a faint undercurrent of something more—perhaps a question, perhaps an unspoken thought.

Still, her attention drifted back to Shellpool, watching her for a moment longer than necessary. A quiet thought formed at the edge of her mind, an urge to speak, to ask, but she swallowed it down. Instead, she reached for the trout, taking a slow, deliberate bite, allowing the conversation to flow around her as her mind lingered elsewhere.

( ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ) to the sun, there's nothing higher

• 
• 
  DIPPERFROST RIVERCLAN WARRIOR; SHE / HER ; SWANTUFT X FINLEAP
  

  Dipperfrost is a tall, slender she-cat with a white coat broken by blue tabby patches, a tuft of curls atop her head, and a star-shaped marking on her forehead. Her brilliant blue eyes—one flecked with a yellow starburst—are often half-lidded, lending her a distant, unreadable expression. Quiet and observant, she speaks with purpose, choosing honesty over comfort and control over chaos. Her aloof demeanor and measured composure make her difficult to approach, but for those who earn her trust, she is fiercely loyal. Though cynical and pragmatic, she remains a steady, unshaken presence, ever watchful of the world around her.

  ✦ Difficult in battle + a skilled fighter