camp NOT WHILE I'M AROUND / snake

[VENOMSTRIKE]

( ) tw: for blood/headless snake

Venomstrike had decided to go out hunting and see if he could try bettering his skills since the first time he had stumbled a lot of his clanmates had been there to witness it, he had been quietly making his way about within the moors keeping attentive of his surroundings while doing so. His thoughts muddled as the moor runner huffed quietly not liking how his pelt was a beacon for the sun though there was a small breeze or two currently in the territory so he didn't suffer too much, large paws carrying him to the abandoned badger set for potential prey. There was a specific creature that he was looking for... He enjoyed how bite size and crunchy they were, tufted ears rotating forward spotting a few small stones nearby and spotting exactly what he had wanted. A lizard. It was a small morsel, he's aware of that but maybe the kits back in camp would enjoy the slight crunch that the lizard had even if there was not a lot of meat on its tiny body to begin with.

Lowering his body to the ground, the large moor runner would stalk forward with ears laying flat against his skull before creeping forward making sure that this paws didn't potentially step on anything to startle the lizard. The scaley creature simply basking in the sunlight unaware of the danger from both sides, Venomstrike preparing himself to spring onto the small reptile but stopped in his tracks watching an adder lunge forward sinking its venomous fangs into the lizard. Someone smart would go find prey elsewhere or call it a day. Venomstrike was not that individual as he fixated his yellow eyes on the serpent that was curling around its prey, his thoughts more panicked and the large tomcat began to overthink. What if someone ended up running into this thing and got bitten? One of the warriors, or even the newer apprentices, or... Or... Rattleheart.

Not wanting to risk anyone getting bitten but potentially himself, the moor runner pounced onto the snake using his powerful front paw to hold down onto its head while its mouth was preoccupied and his jaws bit down onto its throat. Its tail writhing for a moment or two before he used one of his back legs to hold it down as well, his heart racing and drumming loudly in his ears not letting go of its scaley neck from his teeth only proceeding to put more pressure until he felt it begin to stop struggling. Venomstrike lifted it up slowly shaking it violently for good measure to guarantee that the adder wasn't alive, ears laying flat on his skull when he had secured a kill. The last thing that the moor runner was expecting was to kill an adder but it was surely a success for today, any other day, he wouldn't risk it or else he would get bit... And...

He tried not to dwell on the thought for too long as it was upsetting, Venomstrike chewing gingerly on the neck thinking that it might be the best choice to get rid of the lizard and menacing head of the adder. It took him him a bit of time to actually do that, large paws patting over a small mound of dirt where he buried the reptiles and the limp, headless body of an adder still held tightly between his jaws as if potentially fearing that it would somehow come back to life and strike at anyone who dared go near the moor runner. Hiding the body away, the moor runner wandered off to catch a few more pieces of prey.

Venomstrike returned to camp with a thrush and the headless adder, his eyes wandering around camp noticing a few curious eyes landing on him though he made a beeline for the freshkill pile dropping off his catch. He had a little bit of pride for himself, he hadn't messed up and potentially saved someone from getting bitten by an adder. Sure, there was bound to be more within the territory but this was one less adder to worry about thankfully. Nervously, the warrior started to flatten down his fur that had risen from that exciting afternoon. ​

( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )

 

[RATTLEHEART]

While Rattleheart had never been a particularly enthusiastic fighter, what he did pride himself on was his better than average hunting skills. It wasn't unusual to find him delving down into the tunnels, a certain determination to his steps as he sought out any of the prey that took shelter underground. There were occasionally days where he and the other tunnelers didn't bring in as much food as the moor runners - stymied by prey wanting fresh air and sunlight outside of the tunnels just as much as any of the rest of them. On those days, though, he simply prided himself on figuring out new routes that would lead him more easily to a catch in the future. This way of living meant that he didn't often have to fuss over the same kinds of threats that the moor runners dealt with. Foxes would occasionally make their own tunnels down into preexisting tunneler routes, and snakes could make their way down to where their patrols often were, but for the most part they weren't a worry.

Which was why, when Venomstrike came walking into camp with a headless adder in his jaws, his frequent companion didn't even register what he was carrying at first. Rattleheart had to squint in the other's direction, a soft gasp leaving his muzzle when he realized what Venomstrike had caught. He was on his paws before he could even really think about it, quick strides bringing him over to the other's side. Immediately his gaze was scanning Venom over, looking for any signs of bite wounds or any other injuries that he would need to call Wolfsong over for. An immediate wave of relief washed over him when he found nothing, his voice a soft mumble. "Mouse-brain, you almost had me jumping out of my pelt." In spite of the tone of his words, he didn't seem truly upset by the moor runner's actions. At least if his actions were anything to go by, considering the way he gently nudged his head against his friend's shoulder.

Anxieties quelled for the moment, he glanced briefly at the small pile of prey that Venomstrike had brought in before settling near his side, long tail settling near his companion's flank. "How'd you even end up with an adder? Especially with all of that other prey?" Rattleheart couldn't imagine that Venomstrike had intentionally gone looking for an adder, considering he didn't know many in Windclan that considered them to be a delicacy. Granted some warriors simply had odd tastes, but he liked to think that he had gotten to know Venom well enough to know what he liked and disliked. While snakes and lizards could definitely seem similar to the untrained eye, Rattle was fairly sure adders didn't quite have the same crunch that Venomstrike liked so much.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, though he kept that carefully hidden from Venomstrike - he didn't want the other to feel self-conscious about his choice of prey, after all.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[WOLFSONG]

── .∘°°∘. ── It is fortunate that Rattleheart's reaction alerts Wolfsong before the sight of the snake can startle him, as well. Any skilled warrior should be cautious of the slithering creatures, whose fangs are known well for the damage they can cause. Death, in the unluckiest of circumstances, and so Wolfsong is glad that he does not arrive at the freshkill pile none-the-wiser. It's possible he would have had a worse reaction than the tunneler; knowing that he now carries kits dependent on his health to one day meet the world— it is bound to heighten his protective urges.

"You have quite the catch indeed," Wolfsong agrees, his sole eye glinting as he pads closer to the prey pile, snaring the headless snake in curved claws. "Impressive." He smiles over at Venomstrike before glancing back down at the snake, heavy where it's draped over his paw. I will take part of it for my meal, I think. To fill my belly with such a vicious creature— perhaps our kits will take it as their own.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 36 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge. — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know— he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel." — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you. — ☆☆☆☆☆ KITTING: He doesn't remember what it was like to be born. Coincidentally, that is the extent of his familiarity with kitting. At least he won't leave you without moral support.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you. — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

The phantom of WindClan cannot say that serpent is necessarily a meal she would call worthy of her palate. There was a roughness to snakeskin that made her tongue curl back in disgust and the sour taste of the stringy meat was enough for her to deign it as crow-food rather than appetizing. Any expertise that was on display was lost on the she-cat as she hyper-focused on her own personal tastes - narcissistic myopia run rampant in her mind during these lay-about hours of the day.

"It is a rare thing to come away from an encounter with an adder without injury. Pray, tell the secret to your success."​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[Badgermoon]

Truth be told, Badgermoon had no fondness for reptiles: the scaly texture ruined the appeal of the meat for him. It was much the same way he felt about feathers, in fact - he preferred his prey furred. Less foreign material to get stuck between his teeth or lodged in his throat. Still, WindClan's abundant sunshine and miles of tall, rippling grasses gave rise to a suite of scaly beasts: lizards, adders, the occasional toad. Some of these were more troubling than others, of course: thus when he saw the distinctive rippling body drop unceremoniously onto the fresh-kill pile, the deputy gave a low hum of approval and fixed Venomstrike with an appraising stare.

"You're an aptly named warrior, it would seem." Badgermoon mrowed after a pause, curling his inky tail around his paws. He'd be interested to hear Venomstrike's account of the catch, as requested by Rattleheart and Ghostwail. And perhaps it would soothe their mighty hunter's nerves, to recount his harrowing morning, as he seemed to be on edge. Wolfsong looks like he's about to eat it. thought the bicolor cat with a flash of amusement - and a profound sense of "better you than me". Perhaps the pregnancy gives him strange cravings, such as for snakes'-blood.​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

Serpentine-like hues draw toward the minor commotion as the burly tabby warrior known as Venomstrike carries a couple of catches back into camp, one namely being a beheaded snake. A morbid fascination prompts the newly-made warrior to arise from his spot and approach the group to see for himself.

The very thought of coming face to face with a huffing, puffing adder again sends chills down his spine, prompting the hairs along his back to slightly bristle. Snakehiss is sure that he could better handle himself now should a similar situation present itself, but those menacing thin-slitted eyes and the slimy-looking, leathery skin that coiled and slithered about... Those things sure gave him the creeps. "I hope this isn't a bad omen." It's a simple jest in reference to his namesake. Snakehiss making an attempt at humor; was that such an oddity?

Well, at least the damned thing was dead. Not only that, but Venomstrike had managed to bring home another kill as well. The older moor runner was an adept hunter, clearly. "An impressive catch, nonetheless." Snakehiss offers a rare compliment, though his features remain largely plain and neutral as he does so.​

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— they are familiar with snakes. the wriggling beasts occasionally caused trouble in windclan territory—not often, thank the stars, but often enough that her mentor had wisely trained her to recognize and kill them. of course, that didn't mean it was an easy task by any means; getting a paw on and teeth in the writhing creatures without ending up with veins full of venom was an accomplishment worth bragging about for anybody. a small crowd had gathered about venomstrike and she approached with interest, squinting eyes widening a touch (not too much, the sun still blazed above) at the headless serpent that's made a home on their fresh-kill pile. the surprise cools to appreciation; one less snake on the earth is one less she has to risk getting into a tunnel, where they would be even harder to deal with.

rattleheart offers both worry and questions to the moor-runner, a sentiment cygnetstare is inclined to agree with—though she would add congratulations. newly released from the healer's den but penned up in camp, the adder is both exciting and impressive. wolfsong arrives as well, seizing the snake for himself; she does not begrudge him it, though she has briefly entertained the idea of eating the thing. for one, she is well aware that she owes him her own life—and for another, he is now the lifeblood of windclan, providing healing herbs for the good of the clan. she will happily leave it to be his meal, to sustain the one who fills their clan's lungs with breath.

one of her fellows in pink eyes and scorched skin arrives, requesting venomstrike's secret, and her own milkweed gaze flicks toward the adder-killer in silent agreement. she, too, would like the knowledge; perhaps she could catch wolfsong another snake to fill his belly, a thanks for her life saved at his golden paws. badgermoon is here as well; it's practically a little party of sootstar's closest soldiers, she thinks with a faint and barely entertained amusement, and he too offers approval and interest. they consider his remarks, nod and offer, "ayuh. it's damned impressive, ain't it? and i'm glad we don't have to worry about it gettin' into the tunnels."

naturally, snakehiss arrives, another cat bearing the name of adders. for him, it's appropriate in a different way, they think dryly. small reddish pupils turn to the black-furred menace (furred, not scaled, unfortunately). how funny it would be if snakehiss himself became a serpent—and how appropriate, they think, though of course they would never wish harm on a fellow windclanner. as long as their clanmates reside on the moors, they are appreciated in her eyes. cygnetstare finally speaks again, offering her own thoughts, "it is indeed. gave me a helluva fright when i first saw it, too. though i've gotta agree with ghostwail—how in the hell'd you catch the thing?"

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: ——
  

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• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 17 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

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[VENOMSTRIKE]

( ) Venomstrike kept grooming down his coat but it was soon interrupted by his dear friend, Rattleheart, and the sound of his gasp being the first thing to alert him of the approaching tunneler. His tufted ears would lay flat against his skull hearing the other call him a mouse-brain, his head lifting up from where he had been flattening the unruly fur and his gaze going downwards to his paws briefly as he managed to mumble out a quiet "Sorry." But his shameful slouch would subside when he felt the smaller tomcat brush his head against his shoulder, Venomstrike letting out a steady breath. Almost a sigh of relief that Rattleheart was, in fact, not truly upset with him though the moor runner could understand how upsetting it could be to see someone arrive in camp with a headless and very venomous serpent within their jaws. He probably would've reacted the same way if Rattleheart had brought in the adder instead of himself just without the mouse-brain bit, he thinks.

When the tunneler asked him where he had even managed to even get his jaws on an adder, Venomstrike would wrinkle his snout recalling that the damned thing had stolen and ruined his original plan of catching a lizard. He couldn't help but feel upset seeing as he couldn't really risk eating the smaller reptile when it had adder venom flowing through its body, he'd get sick or worse. Which he would rather not risk. He was about to answer until he noticed Wolfsong approaching the freshkill pile where he had deposited the decapitated serpent, the large moor runner watching with owl sized eyes as if trying to figure out why in the world the medicine cat would want to eat that than all the other prey on the pile. The thought was dismissed hearing Wolfsong call his catch impressive, Venomstrike taking a moment to recover from his kit-like gawking and offered an awkward but genuine smile.

"T-thank you," The moor runner replies in a rather bashful manner with ears still laying on his head and starts pondering if expecting kits makes queens crave... Oddities such as adders. Venomstrike parted his jaws briefly but shut it within a second, in case, it was a personal question and not wanting to potentially offend Wolfsong since he held a lot of respect for the medicine cat. That didn't stop him from making a mental note to bring more snakes for said medicine cat, he was sure that Wolfsong would likely appreciate it. Even if Venomstrike strongly preferred lizards a lot more than a snake, the cru-

His eyes turned to Ghostwail who seemed curious on how he had caught the snake without getting bitten which reminded him of his loss again. It was dumb really how upset he was over not getting that lizard as a meal. He didn't realize he was glaring at the headless serpent until Badgermoon approached. Right, he was supposed to be answering Ghostwail and Rattleheart's (earlier yet similar) inquiry. "It... It stole my lizard." He began with an awkward yet slightly upset shuffle of his large mismatched paws, "It was distracted so I k-killed it." It was just incredibly stupid luck that Venomstrike had killed the adder when he had or rather unfortunate luck for the lizard seeing as the rest of the work had to be done by the large moor runner. Holding down a writhing snake that could've easily unlatched from one victim to another was not unheard of or something unimaginable.

He dipped his head respectfully in Badgermoon's direction and glad that he could, well, prove himself good of something. Hunting or fighting being a lot easier to do than stumbling over his own words. Which he thankfully hasn't been picked on for... Ears perked up when the newly made warrior, Snakehiss, offered a rare compliment. "Well... That's nice..." Venomstrike giving a curt nod before his yellow eyes focused on Cygnetstare hearing about how they wouldn't need to worry about the adder getting near the tunnels anymore of which he couldn't help but watch Rattleheart from the corner of his eye "Yeah... Last thing we need is a-anyone getting bit..." Ah, there was that question again. In case, the mismatched feline hadn't heard his telling of how he had come across the adder and actually caught it did the moor runner say with a small smile.

"Thankfully... I-It was distracted and I m-managed to trap it under m-my paw to kill it." He answered quite humbly seeing no point in stretching the story or boasting about it, he imagined it to be a noble thing... Killing it to ensure the safety of those around him. That was good enough for him. Although, the sudden attention and gathering group of cats being enough to make the fur on his back prickle up again seeing as Venomstrike was not familiar with this kind of stuff. He offers an apologetic dip of his head and used a few quick swipes of his tongue to flatten the fur down. ​

( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )