camp ORDINARY AND TERRIBLE ♡ BIRD OF PREY

[mockingbirdcry]

Chilledstar is dead. That's a fact, as loath as some of the Clan might be to admit it . . . but their black - and - white body awaits preparation and burial even now. Though the delicate perfume of lavender and mint clings to Mockingbirdcry's thick white fur, the ministrations required to clean them of blood and suffuse their fur with the pleasant scent of herbs to hide the odor of death hasn't yet begun . . . the queen would deem it an unnecessary practice, but tradition requires it. She'll be present as embalmer alone, bearing no interest in lingering for the burial . . . the Clan's sparse elders and those who loved Chilledstar can carry that out. She would rather not be there to see the visible weakness of tears and grief - cries.

Besides, something else in camp has captured her interest . . . a large bird has settled itself in one of the scrubby pines, its silvered - blue and white plumage stark against the general dark muckiness of ShadowClan's territory. The peregrine's huge wings sprawl across the canopy, presumably in the interest of soaking up the greenleaf sun that so infrequently makes its way in broken and scattered shards to the camp floor. Mockingbirdcry has tucked herself at the base of a tree nearby, one eye on the ever - present group of roving kits, but most of her attention is focused on the bird.

Its cold black eyes . . . the viciously taloned feet over which ticked white feathers drape . . . the sleekness of its sharp - quilled form . . . most of all, its merciless capacity for survival mesmerize the queen, wide dark eyes fixed on the beast under the pretense of watching to ensure it doesn't make off with one of the runt kits. Quietly, she hopes it'll leave one of those great feathers behind when it inevitably takes its leave with empty claws. Mockingbirdcry glances towards the first ( potentially grieving ) Clanmate to approach . . . hopefully they're interested in conversation that's not about the Clan's recent loss. She murmurs, " See it? Quite the powerful bird . . . " she trails off, soft voice carrying well - hidden traces of admiration. She's quick with a hoarse - voiced, corrective joke, " Best to keep an eye on any small Clanmates, hm? "

OOC : —

♡

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[Kestrelsong]

The sight of her mother's gaze stuck in the canopies caught her attention, and it didn't take long for the ever-protective daughter to stride forth. A brush of her dark coat against the stark contrast of her mother's, as a dual-colored gaze eventually meets the sight of the peregrine. After observing the bird momentarily, the daughter allows her capri and yellow-orange gaze to shift onto her mother. ”Mm, look at the talons.” Kestrelsong remarks at the obsidian-toned claws that graced its bright yellow feet that reflected across its neutral-colored feathers. Her heterochromatic gaze flicks toward the predator bird momentarily as her claws flexed in return.

”Do you want a feather from it, ma?” The dark tabby remarks with an owlish tilt of her head, her voice mimicking a question yet would make it true if her mother wished. She sits on her haunches and eventually shifts to a loaf position with her paws resting out in front of her. Her mother makes mentions of watching over Shadowclan's smaller and younger clan mates, which she doesn't particularly care for, but she'd do it if her mother asked. On her statement, the long-limbed feline glances around in search of any potential prey of the great predator hiding in the canopies.​

 

[MARBLEPAW]

"Don't do anything frog-brained!" Marblepaw's young voice is sterner than she knew it could be as she pads up to stand behind mother and daughter. She eyes the bird in question with nervous, flickering green eyes — some of her former denmates are small enough to be seized in such massive talons. "Starlingheart doesn't have the herbs to waste on that!" She looks anxiously from Kestrelsong to Mockingbirdcry, hoping it was a jest.

The bird is magnificent in appearance; its feathers are steely, gleaming low and proud in the sunlight. Marblepaw has never seen anything so dangerous up close. She feels her fur bristling as she whispers, "Should we do something? Chase it away? There are too many kits out here!" Or would drawing its attention toward the group of cats prove to be a worse idea? Oh, she wishes she'd stayed in Starlingheart's den for once...

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Marblekit . Marblepaw, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 6 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by Starlingheart ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan medicine cat apprentice, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.
  
  

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