camp Now I’m Saving All My Loving (Development, Trying to Remove Collar) For Someone Who’s Loving Me

[Chickbloom]

It was growing tighter, he was sure it was growing tighter. Ever since he’d run from his housefolk, shredding outstretched arms that were hellbent on keeping him imprisoned, the collar around Eggshell’s neck had been constricting him. Some days it was better, some days worse. Talking helped it, speaking with his clanmates seemed to weaken its grip, but in the silent seclusion of night it always came back with a vengeance.

Already restless sleep was constantly interrupted by the feeling that he couldn’t breathe before fitful paws scratched and tugged at the band, always stopping short of any real relief for fear of damaging the trinket. The coward couldn’t take it anymore. He’d wept by himself, cherished his twolegs’ memory with Twitchbolt, and spoke of their shortcomings with Silversmoke, but the tension remained.

It was like their hands were still on him, pulling the strap of leather tighter each day he was away, but Eggshell couldn’t bring himself to tear it off. It was the last thing that connected the coward to his owners. They’d hurt him, neglected him, but they hadn’t always been that way. If the Scottish Fold shredded his collar in anger at how he’d been treated, it would be like disregarding all the good they’d done. Eggshell had so many happy memories with his housefolk, and he wanted preserve that past.

Yes, preservation. Eggshell could honor the past, even if he’d accepted that it would never return. However, he couldn’t do it alone, It would take many paws. Slowly, butter-stained fur made its way into afternoon sunlight. Eggshell was clearly nervous as he stepped into the middle of camp, still a bit uncomfortable with the idea brewing between folded ears. “Um, could-“ His voice was quiet, far too quiet. With a deep breath, the boy spoke up. “Could a few cats h-help me? I want to…t-to take off my collar…” as soon as the words left an egg-battered maw, anxious paws raised protectively towards the band.

“B-But! But p-please be careful. I d-don’t want it d-damaged. I want it - I w-want it taken off the way it’s m-meant to be. I…I want to keep it.” With red staining embarrassed cheeks, Eggshellbloom craned his neck so anyone willing to help would have easier access to the confusing combination of latches and leather.​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Silversmoke had been sincere when he'd called Eggshellbloom a friend, and that the tom's loyalty came with a promise of protection. Despite the awkwardness of his recent apology to the other, the Lead Warrior found himself approaching the other quickly at the call for aid, an eager glint in his eye. 'Yes!' He could've cheered if he were a more vocal cat. Silversmoke crouched and leaned in, teeth bared wolfishly as if preparing to sink into the soft leather. The intricacies (and Eggshell's request) gave him pause, his narrowed eyes hovering over different notches as if they were alien. Enough Daylight Warriors had passed through SkyClan's walls for the tom to have some awareness of how these things worked. Studying the thing that made him uncomfortable revealed... issues with its design, if he pulled and pulled on a collar like that, it would never snap, it would only choke the Scottish fold. "StarClan..." the tom mewed incredulously, his expression stinking. Eggshellbloom was the luckiest cat in the pine forest. "Do you know how dangerous it was to be doing your duties in this thing?! This isn't one of them breakable collars the others wear, this thing'd could've killed you if you'd done so much as climbed a tree wrong."

The joy of shedding one's chain was suddenly swallowed by thoughts of 'what could've been'. What would have happened if he'd aimed for the accessory in a fight, had Eggshellbloom ran through the underbrush and met a particularly stubborn branch? Even if he refused to dwell on the past, his future prospects weren't much better - knowing the collar was different did not help the wildcat uncover how to remove it safely from Eggshell. Shame burned the tips of his ears, belly flat against the earth as he realised the extent of his help came in fearmongering. Reluctantly, he considered the three Daylight Warriors who'd saved the clan (the three left), how they'd once messed with complicated latches to free his clanmates. One of which was so close to giving birth now that he feared even staring at Eggshellbloom's collar would somehow induce labour. That left two other choices, one more likely to be around than the other. "Momowhisker?!" He called the blue lynx point; no answer, still on patrol then. One option remained in Silversmoke's head - he thought he'd moved past petty ideals with the other, but giving him another ego boost almost elicited a wince from the Lead. "Johnnyflame?!"

[ calling for @Johnnyflame's help with the collar! ; silver doesn't know how to remove non-breakaway collars </3 ]

​

 

[Johnnyflame]

MY WORLDS ON FIRE, HOW 'BOUT YOURS?
THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT AND I NEVER GET BORED."​

---

In contrast to Eggshellbloom, Johnnyflame couldn’t imagine a day where he didn’t want to wear his collar. It was not only a declaration of his loyalty to his humans, but it was a symbol of what he was within the clan; a daylight warrior. Such was a status he’d always been proud to flaunt regardless of the feelings of certain clanmates, and there was a proud, spiteful part of him that thought he would continue wearing it even if a time came where he didn’t return to twolegplace- though he couldn’t imagine a circumstance that would cause his loyalty to falter in either direction short of being forced into the ultimatum of choosing one over the other.

Alas though, he knew that wasn’t the sentiment of all cats. Just as he knew that not all twolegs were as kind or accommodating as his were. While there would be those who denied it right to the very end, in Johnnys opinion, the twolegs weren’t all that different from cats- they, too, had their Blazestars and Sootstars; those who were just and kind, along with those who were cruel and foul.

And sometimes a cat couldn’t control who they ended up with or who went bad along the way.

In that sense, Johnny knew he was a very lucky cat to have what he did, and it was also why he couldn’t find it in him to feel much other than sympathy and disappointment whenever a daylight warrior chose to give up their housefolk in favor of the clan- their humans had failed them, poor things. The bobtail could only hope that in such cases there hadn’t been too much cruelty involved, but if there had been, he wasn’t above hunting down said twoleg and clawing them right in the face to claim some retribution for his clanmate- an enemy was an enemy, after all, be they fox, cat, or upwalker.

”Johnnyflame?!”

The patchwork lead had been curled up in his nest for a nap when he heard his name being called- he had a bit before he was taking Sangriapaw out again and he’d wanted to enjoy it relaxing for a change. But alas, duty called.

”Aye, I’m comin’ I’m comin’” he grumbled, getting to his paws and shaking out his coat of loose moss before hastily making his way out of the den, golden-yellow eyes scanning the area for Silversmoke, who had definitely been the one to call him. Luckily they weren’t too far off, glaring at Eggshellblooms collar as if it were personally offending him.

”What’s got you interrupting my beauty sleep?” he huffed at the silver tom in faux annoyance, smirk tugging at his lips. ”You're lucky I need very little of it.”

Gaze shifted to the other tom then, glancing at the accessory around their neck. ”Something wrong with your collar, Eggshellbloom? Had a piece of bark get stuck under mine once and it drove me crazy for half a day. I can check it for you if you like?” he chuckled, sitting to subconscious scratch at his neck with a hind leg.

Designs-wise, the two cats had very similar collars hanging around their necks. Johnnys was a strip of fine red leather with a golden nameplate engraved with his name, and it, too, was closed not with a clip, but a buckle. No bell for him, though- his humans had figured out his taste and tolerance when he was a kit.

---

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[SLATESNARL]

Mangled ears flick as his attention is set on a warrior who doesn't tend to draw attention to himself — Eggshellbloom. Out of the younger tom's maw was something that Slate wouldn't have expected. He wanted his collar off. Huh, what was the occasion? Then again, Slate figures that it truly doesn't matter and that he doesn't really want to know. The most important thing was that Eggshellbloom was finally making the decision to remove that sign of twoleg ownership from his neck. For once, the lead warrior felt an ounce of respect for the former daylight warrior's actions. "I could try. Can't promise anything, though." He swipes a pink tongue over the surface of his ivory canines. They could very well get caught in the material of the collar in the process of removal, but if Eggshellbloom wanted it off, then surely that was a risk that he would have to take.

He looks to his fellow lead warrior ( the tri-colored one, that is ) who is trying to be helpful as usual. It sounds as if Johnnyflame merely wants to check under Eggshell's collar, not help free the cream-patched tom from the wretched thing. Amber eyes flick toward the red branding that circled the daylight warrior's neck as well as the golden buckle that glistened with every movement. If anyone would know their way around a twoleg contraption, it would be him. He had known how to free cats from the cages, after all. "Yours looks like his, Johnnyflame. Any idea how to get it off?" Slate grunts aloud. He had no qualms with yanking until it slid off, but Eggshellbloom probably wanted to avoid that.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Nightcrawler]

Unlike many of his fellow Daylight Warriors, Kurt had never worn a collar - the object had never exactly fit with the theme that the circus had in mind when it came to him, and Kurt had grown up for awhile never even knowing they existed until he'd gotten old enough to move around outside of the circus and had come across loners who had kept theirs. Suffice to say, he didn't have any idea how to help Eggshellbloom remove the leather around his neck, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try and help.

"You know, I have never understood why the housefolk - the twolegs," he tested out the word on his tongue, before continuing, "why they put these collars on their cats. Is it a symbol of possession?" He hoped that the conversation he was making would help relax Eggshellbloom - the tom seemed terribly worked up over the whole ordeal.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• KURT ✩ daylight warrior of skyclan, twenty-eight moons
  → speaks with a German accent
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

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[Chickbloom]

Amber eyes widened - for the first time, not from fear - when Silversmoke approached. It was sappy, but a part of Eggshell was hoping the stern warrior would show up when the call for help rang through camp. It was poetic in a way, the tom who’d trained the whelp in the ways of the forest being the one to aid his transition to wild cat. Of course, it wasn’t likely the lead had the same sappy thoughts.

Silversmoke’s words are a confirmation of that fact. A butter-stained figure shrinks inwards, the whelp wincing a bit at the other’s chastising. Thankfully, Eggshell now knows it comes from a place of concern instead of annoyance. After their conversation, the daylight warrior was glad to be certain of their friendship (even if the other could be a little scary at times). That was why Eggshell stood his ground more than usual this time, bringing himself to look his mentor in the eyes. “I’m - uh - I guess that means you t-trained me well, if I’m n-not dead yet…” The mumbled attempt to lighten the mood came in spite of the coward growing nauseous at the mental image of himself hanging lifeless from a tree, but still he persevered.

Johnnyflame was another cat Eggshell admired, like a look at what his life could’ve been if his housefolk weren’t so busy. The easygoing kittypet’s boldness was one he envied, which only made the boy more grateful for his appearance. After all, Johnnyflame handled snakes without fear. Surely he could help with a little collar? “Y-Yeah, something like that…” The skittish Scottish Fold answered, not really sure how to sum up his remorse for the past. “It - uh - it f-feels…tight…” the perpetually-terrified tom eventually settled on, unwilling to explain it wasn’t just a physical sensation he sought relief from. “I’d rather h-have it off.”

Eggshell’s statement of desire, the urge to free himself of the band, seemed to bring out Skyclan’s specialist in brute force. Eggshell almost took a half-step back as Slate approached the group, stopping himself only by realizing it’d be best if he stood still. When the wall of muscle spoke, all amber eyes could focus on were his razor-sharp fangs. “Um, I-I t-think it’d be better to let Johnnyflame - y’know - l-let him take the lead.” The coward answered, trying his best to be polite. Ever since meeting Slate for the first time at the border, Eggshell had always been utterly terrified of him. The thought of the blunt cat’s teeth and claws so close to his neck sent shivers down his spine. That said, the Scottish Fold was still a complete doormat. “Y-You can h-help him, though. D-Do what he says, and all that?”

Thankfully, a new cat arrived to take Eggshell’s mind off the matter of his throat possibly getting ripped open. The boy wasn’t too familiar with Kurt, but his question was welcome (even if it hit closer to home than the other intended). After considering it for a moment, a soft voice came out of a banded throat. “I-I don’t think it’s for p-possession…at least, not all about it. I t-think, I think p-part of it is about love. They - y’know, my h-housefolk - they loved me enough to w-want to keep track of me, to m-mark me as part of their family. G-Getting accepted into Skyclan…I g-guess that’s the feeling It was most similar to, when I w-wore it for the first time…d-does that make sense?”​

 

[Johnnyflame]

MY WORLDS ON FIRE, HOW 'BOUT YOURS?
THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT AND I NEVER GET BORED."​

---

Ahh, so that was the problem. ”Let me take a look at it.” he said, leaning forward to inspect the collar. It looked simple enough, familiar in the way his own was. It helped that in his youth he’d spent a large amount of time pulling *off* his collars until his twolegs got the gist of what he found to be an acceptable accessory- no bells, bows, or ribbons for him, thank you very much. And so he wasn’t entirely lost when looking a the thing.

”For these ones you have to pull at a very specific spot- yanking just anywhere will only choke whoever's wearing it.” he noted, instantly going into ‘educate your peers in case they need it later’ mode. He’d always had a knack for twoleg things, and while he doubted he knew every trick and function of the collars he and Eggshellbloom wore, he was confident he knew enough to get it off.

”It’s this shiny square here-” he said, lifting paw to carefully run it over the buckle of the collar. ”You've got to pull the material inside it. It takes some practice to do it, but...”

It took some finagling, alternating between precise tugs from claws and teeth as he moved what needed to be moved, but eventually Eggshellbloom would feel the collar growing slack before Johnnyflame tugged it off completely, dropping it carefully at the others feet. ”Voila! A collar-free-cat!” he declared triumphantly.

---

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[Chickbloom]

As Johnnyflame stepped closer, a scrambled-egg pelt shivered in anticipation. Although the coward had just said that Johnny should take the lead, his nerves still held strong. Eggshellbloom would rather no one touched it, so afraid of damaging the last connection to his housefolk, but the milksop knew he couldn’t rely on wind to undo the latched band.

He was scared, amber eyes alternating between being screwed shut and dinnerplate wide every few moments, glancing down to try and catch his fellow kittypet’s movements. “I guess we’re not really fellow kittypets anymore” Eggshell thought with an inward grimace. Would he be a full wild cat after this? The whelp had been staying in Skyclan’s camp for sometime, but he supposed this would make it official. All that was changing was the presence of a strap of leather around his neck, but the boy still felt sad. There was a sense of finality to this, like taking a last look at someone before they were buried.

With the gravitas the tomcat was giving to the moment, he thought - or maybe hoped - that it would be more climactic than it turned out. Instead, with a casual quip from Johnnyflame, Eggshellbloom felt constricted fur finally reveal itself before what the whelp practically considered a body part was laid before him. The Skyclanner took a deep breath, testing the feeling, only for a regretful frown to plaster itself across yolk-stained features.

The tightness was still there.

Granted it was better - much better - but there was still the slight sense that he was being pulled back. A buttery paw went to his neck, ruffling fur that had been flattened for moons before he tried again. Once again, the Scottish Fold felt phantom hands around his throat. Was this a mistake? A soft breeze passed through camp, and the sensation of fresh air against his neck sent fur standing on end. It felt uncomfortable, unnatural. His breathing became faster, and as Eggshell’s resolve began to falter, wild amber eyes looked down to the collar.

“Put it back on.”

Those words, tantamount to running straight back to those that hurt him, very nearly left Eggshell’s mouth. They would have, too, had an anxious gaze that was so focused on the simple band briefly flickered back to the cats surrounding him. Their presence, the words they’d said - both spoken and unspoken - were enough to free the whelp from his moment of weakness.

Gingerly, like it was made of glass, Eggshellbloom crouched and took the collar between his teeth. “T-Thank you, Johnnyflame” The boy mumbled, cheeks gaining a brief coating of crimson as he realized how hard it was to talk with the collar in his mouth. “Thank you, everyone. I-I owe a lot to Skyclan, and I’ll - y’know…y-yeah…” Eggshell was never good at speaking, much less giving speeches. Compounded with how hard it was to be understood with the leather in his maw, the boy thought it best if he stopped short.

Still, they knew what he was trying to say.​