now this is your only plan || tadpole hunt

The marsh doesn't truly wake from its Leafbare-long slumber until the air is heavy with the buzzing of countless biting insects. Betonyfrost's wilted ears flick periodically, both in a half-hearted attempt at shooing the pests and in tired annoyance. The mud beneath Betonyfrost shifts, despite or because she hasn't moved in some time; she watches a shallow pool of green-topped water with an interest normally not found in her. The subtle reshifting of her weight to prevent herself from falling forward into the water, the now-increasing pattern to the flick of her ears: the intensity of her interest has rendered her to nothing more than these scant movements.

Beneath what Betonyfrost understands to be a mild amount of film, the pool is teeming with tadpoles. They move quickly, some limbed, many more tailed, in both varying sizes and shades of gray-brown-black. When Betonyfrost does move, it is to suddenly splash her forepaws into the water in an ill-fated attempt at grabbing one of the tadpoles. It accomplishes little, other than wetting Betonyfrost's whiskers and stirring silt from the bottom of the pool. The tadpoles, perhaps sensing that Betonyfrost is no skilled fisher, or more likely not having anywhere else to go, scatter for just long enough for Betonyfrost to swear and pull her paws back to the only mildly drier land.

"Terrible things," Betonyfrost spits, as if she could scold them into being caught, "You're more useful to me once you've crawled from this—this mud. Fatter too."
shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 30 moons | tags
 
*+:。.。 "Taking a crack at Riverclan life are we?" Duckshimmer would say as graceful mottled paws carry her to Botonyfrost's side. With the recent explosion of life within the marshland, hunting had since failed to feel like a priority. The woman can afford to pick and choose what she hunts, if she does so at all, and today is no exception. She watches, eyes twinkling, as Shadowclan's most beloved youthful curmudgeon goes about her efforts trying to scoop out the frog's spawning. "Things so wily as these perhaps are better caught with two sets of paws, darling?" she offers, sticking one of her snow-tipped hands into the water herself. It's a texture she's familiar with, but the sliminess still makes a shudder run up her spine. She comforts herself as she smiles at Botonyfrost, eager to see if a woman such as her would take kindly to the affectionate term or not, but more importantly if she'll try Ducky's idea. If she plunges her paws into the school again and sends it towards Ducky's waiting limb, perhaps then a few would be unlucky enough to bump into her claws long enough for her to scoop the suckers out? "I've never tried such bite-sized prey before" she muses, not entirely for anyone besides herself as she watches the little critters swim, avoiding her paw.




  • GENERAL:
    Duckshimmer
    DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
    30 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
    Shadowclan — Warrior



    COMBAT:
    Physically hard | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #ffa98f
    injuries: None currently
 

Opossumpaw had been out with his mentor the wizened old Salamanderfoot; the moment he saw a chance to get away without risking punishment he bailed on the old strict tom and scrambled his way over towards the distant now closer shadowed figures of Betonyfrost and Duckshimmer. He didn't mind the more deep areas of the marshlands where pools and small streams were prevalent, he likes the feelin' of a damp pelt and muddy paws there was somethin' real quaint about it. Sliminess built character, it wasn't harmful and he can't help but chuckle seeing the way Duckshimmer shudders at the feeling of the muck on her paws just as he comes up besides the warrior. He peers down to see what's so interesting, and his face crinkles into a cringe. He's seen tadpoles but there were so many of the bulbous weird things, they were creepy with the weird thin tails all splashing around and the like. "Can't believe these things grow into frogs, bleugh nasty lil' things" he pauses shoulders shrugging.

"Well foods food! I'm diggin' in!" ever the shadowclanner willing to eat anything he can get his grubby mitts on, bein' picky was for the other clans with all their uptightness. They were missing out on perfectly fine grub! Instead of swishing at the things with his paws he goes for a more... unorthodox method, he wasn't taught how to catch them so he improvises. His head dugs into the dirty pool jaws snapping more muck then tadpoles it's miraculous that when he pulls out his soaked head a tail of one dangles from clenched jaws.

He looks pride as he hoists it up for the two she-cats to admire.

 
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Misfortune finds Mirepurr today in the form of Betonyfrost. The feeling is an unfamiliar one - the desire to be away from a Clanmate instead of closer still is much different from their usual disposition of a too-friendly ShadowClanner. Her scorching words thrown innocent kits' way still swam around in Mirepurr's mind, unable to let go despite none of it being directed at them. Perhaps it's on behalf of Lilacfur or the kits themselves... either way, they've been finding it difficult to exist in the same space as her.

But duty is still duty. Even with the amount of frogs showering the Clan's marshes, Mirepurr does not consider slowing down with the hunting. It's not to an excess, knowing it'd be foolish to catch so many that they'd all rot away in the fresh-kill pile, but just to ensure nobody has to think about skipping a meal in the evening. Harsh leaf-bares left enough of an impression on them that they'd rather not slack off.

So, Mirepurr approaches the green pool, albeit from the other side. They're uncharacteristically quiet as they listen to Betonyfrost and Duckshimmer, staring into the water and waiting for the right moment. The surface is so murky that there's no reflection of their face to watch warping. Good, they think, less distraction.

Then the slimy blanket shifts. Mirepurr's ears and whiskers twitch in surprise, and when they lift their head, they're greeted by the sight of a triumphant yet dirty Opossumpaw. The tip of his white forehead is stained with green-browns, and Mirepurr cannot find it in themself to wait for it to settle within his fur even if he seems unbothered.

"Great catch," they purr as they approach Opossumpaw. "Although I might've used a different method myself..." A gentle paw rubs along the space between the apprentice's ears, hoping to get rid of the muck.



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  • 8Xs7ngd.png
  • MIREPURR SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR
    ────── THEY/THEM ✦ PENNED BY KARMEN ✦ 04/15
  •  
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Snowpaw's normally white fur was covered in the muck of the marsh, an attempt to blend into the land surround her due to the snow having been long gone. Stubbh tail flicked a bit while her gaze land on the tadpoles and her nose wrinkled in disgust watching the weird things swim about in the marshy muck. Of course Opossompaw wasted no time to lurch himself into catching one of them and she hummed a bit, Smogmaw would be right there joining the tom in catching these creatures if he laid eyes on them.

"They taste better once they grow legs" she stated calmly, but... they might as well attempt to catch some, perhaps their deputy would be quite please to see the group come back with some tadpoles in toe. These things wouldn't last long in the fresh-kill pile that was for sure. With a quick dive and a large clumsy splash the apprentice herself managed to catch two between her teeth before spatting the inky creatures on the marsh ground where they wouldn't sink, disgust on her face. "I'm sure Smogmaw would enjoy these" she stated, flicking her muddied paw not caring where the mud flung.

Yellow gaze gpancing to the others around her, seemingly noticing that Betonyfrost had failed in catching one while Duckshimmer hardly got a lick of mud on her. Mirepurr congratulating Oppusmpaw on a nice catch and Snowpaw just ahrugged looking down at the two she got. Maybe she'll just drop them on their deputy's paws once they return to camp

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw She/Her, apprentice of Shadowclan, 8 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.


Mentor tag @Scorchedmoon ))
 
Sharpshadow doesn't see much of a point to this. The waiting— the lunging. If anything, it was a poor way to disguise your desire to just mess around with some frog-lets. One of them would feed a small kit, maybe. A bunch of them? Good luck, or something. The bigger ones... weirded her out.

He remembers rooting about in tadpole - infested waters alongside Loampelt. Annoying, weird, shaky, but... ShadowClanner Loampelt, even if he didn't quite accept what he had been. It's not as if Sharpshadow had gone beneath the green muck with her jaws unhinged back then to scoop up a mouthful, but even back then, off the cusp of Leaf-bare and without full bellies, it had seemed like too much of a bother. " i can't imagine it's worth it " in reply to Duckshimmer, he mumbles. And it's drastic measures that he takes, to not point out that two different cats sticking one paw into a pond was not two sets of paws. " Frogs are basically just nasty bigger things. " They couldn't pretend that frog's were some kind of delicacy forever, could they?

It's a bit funny, to watch someone like betonyfrost struggle with this, the way she does. What Opossumpaw does isn't funny, it's fucked. He doesn't bother hiding his small sound of disgust. He would root in the trash beside Smogmaw before he swallowed that much swampwater.

It's not a great catch, really. Because whether one meant to say that the technique used was impressive, or the prey itself was, the phrase was completely wrong in both situations. ...But that's what a bummer would say, and ShadowClan had enough bummers already. Struggling to think of anything nicer to say, he cocks his head at the catch.

Snowpaw gives her something to agree to. " Agreed. " And something to spit at, too. " Smogmaw would enjoy the ticks off his own back. " An ugly laugh threatens to tumble out of her maw, but instead comes out as something like a snort.
 
Darling, Duckshimmer says; Betonyfrost's hackles raise at the same time. She's reminded so strongly of Halfshade—always prettier than her, always so casually better, always saying darling—that when her round head whips in almost-confrontation, she is stopped by the sight of Duckshimmer rather than that of a ghost. Trying to catch the tadpoles had been stupid, made even moreso by Duckshimmer making it look so effortless.

"I've caught a fish before," A single fish in all of her moons spent wading through and watching pools. If Duckshimmer was to be right about anything, it was that Betonyfrost was certainly not a RiverClanner. She doesn't want to be one—hadn't wanted to be one until she watched Duckshimmer pluck a tadpole from the water with the same ease as one might swat a motionless stone.

It isn't until Opossumpaw makes his own catch that the vague frustration that had settled over Betonyfrost manifests into something tangible. His face is wet from his catch; he looks proud of himself. Betonyfrost pushes herself up from her crouch, and the motion looks more like she is shoving the ground away. Stupid apprentice—he looks ridiculous as he is. Betonyfrost's own wet whiskers twitch.

"I'm sure he can clean the filth off of his own face," She doesn't look at Mirepurr as she speaks—she instead watches Snowpaw and Sharpshadow. Despite his ascent into warriorhood, Sharpshadow may as well still be an apprentice. "I'm sure there are plenty of things you find aren't worth it."
shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 30 moons | tags
 
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