Large loveable idiot, a bumkin with an atrocious vocabulary- Thistle thinks as he spots the lad. This, in Deersong’s witchy knowledge of auras would probably be the color he most avoids. Thistleback doesn’t know how to exist around sweet southern sultry, that georgia peach attitude if you will. He was a man of coldness and restless discontent- it was with pure rageful jealousy that he saw the large dark tom with a constant peace about him. And fairly decent vocabulary, he adds to himself like the British chav snob he was.

" Huckleberry- are you free today? I could use some extra muscle " he slithers from the log he had been sunbathing on, greasy bladed pelt of thorns dancing over his muscles as he swaggered forth. " there’s a nest of voles to the east … about ten minutes walk- I keep going when it’s empty but " he pauses to look at the afternoon hanging sun. " now should be a good time" he smiles and it’s grimy and daggered. " There’s a pine martin in the area though, might give us some trouble. You look a man that can handle trouble" silver eyes travel the handsome warrior with a studious glint. @HUCKLEBERRY

  • — all the mean things he thinks of southern people is ofc ic-thoughts haha IM a texas bumkin myself so it's ironic

  • — Thistleback | thirty moons | cis-male
    — daylight warrior of Skyclan
    — bisexual | crushing on Deersong
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes. Wears a purple collar with brass clasp.
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( ) thistleback was an interesting character to huckleberry, he didn't know much about this rugged tom besides that he spoke much more fluidly with a proper tongue than he did and that his presence was a one that bore down on you with how this man held himself infront of a crowd. color the smoke a little surprised when the black and white patterened feline approached him asking to lend a paw in dealing with a troublesome martin that lingered around a nest of voles.

huckleberry gave a grin towards thistleback, paws pushing his lofty body upwards into a standing position. maybe this could be his chance to attempt to bond with the other. 'course ah can! lucky for you, trouble happens to be my middle name so that pesky martin won't know what hit 'em when if it decide ta show its face 'round us!" a purr would briefly start up within a slightly puffed out chest before sweeping a bushy tail to beckon his clanmate to lead the way.

( i hear the wandering streams and the song of the birds )