pafp PALE GREEN GHOSTS \ scrounging

[MALLOWLARK]

Returning from a hunt, Mallowlark dropped a squirrel on the pile. They were certainly easier to catch than rabbits; not having to run for miles for your lunch was certainly a plus of the pine-lands. Adjusting had not been too difficult so far- though the birds that fled to the trees were problems. The small ones, who seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads....

An unblinking scan of the camp lead his vision to land upon a small bird at the paws of one of SkyClan's younger faces... a kitten he could not put a name to. Oh, he'd have to get better at remembering their names! He wondered... in his own failure to catch his own souvenirs, perhaps he cold gain a couple stray bones from a discarded meal. It would be criminal for the offal to go to waste, wouldn't it? Anyone would agree!

There was no malice in his intention as he approached, grin so wide it seemed his fangs might burst through his cheeks. "You're not going to eat the bones are you?" Of course, he was not one to judge a hobby if this one did like to chew on rib-cages, but... well, there were plans for a game brewing in his mind, and he did not want to squander a possibility for the perfect bones.

\ please wait for sorrel to reply!! @Noor <3 SORRY i couldn't find sorrel's account lmfao ​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[Sorrelpaw !]

SORREL — she’s been living on the highest shelf.
Bones were not something the little scavenger had dove into quite yet, her hyper fixation of the day being the glossy feathers that she had plucked from the carcass of her meal. She had only picked a few, of course, not wanting to completely bald her lunch before she began to snack.
Her little pile of black and white feathers were tucked securely under a thick tail as she neared the end, left with only the bones of which she couldn’t chew.
You’re not going to waste the bones are you?
The melodic voice that addresses her is twisted and strained, as if they were about to burst with emotion, the face that she turns her chin up to gaze upon equally as unsettling.
Her eyes do not widen in fear at the pearly whites that bare at her, instead her jaw parts in fascination. Never before had she seen a cat with such expression.
Her gaze drops to the bones to question between her chocolate-dipped paws.
"Hm.. why do ya wanna know, mister?" She replies, auburn eyes flickering back up to him with a curious glint.

"speech"

tags​

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[SHRIMPY BOY]

A surly question catches his ear. Wide-set eyes, as glassy as ever, give the surrounding camp a brief look-see, before coming to a screeching halt on the tom accountable. What with how confusing the clan cats' naming conventions tend to be, Shrimpy Boy falls back on defining clanmates by their actions, or by their lived experiences, or by the roles they played in the clan—and while he'd never spoken to the snow-pelted, black-footed, always-smiling piece of work, he knew enough to be wary. This was the one who'd defected from an enemy clan, the one who'd earned a harsher introduction into SkyClan than Shrimpy Boy himself.

For a former foe to advance so near on one of the kits, it sends off all sorts of silent alarms within his mind. It doesn't take a diplomatic aficionado to know this could go south at any moment. Unsteadily, the chunky tom would unsteadily rise to all fours, before embarking on a cross-camp footslog towards the duo. His posture is defensive, and his eyes remain fixed on the weirdo's.

"Uhh, 'scuse me," interjects Shrimpy Boy, tone seeping with caution. "Why do you want the bones? Can't you get your own?" Perhaps it has to do with his lack of wordly experience, being a half-kittypet and all, but not a lone idea comes to mind as to what use bird bones provided. ​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

A plague upon their camp. Blazestar has all but come to accept the other WindClan refugees as reformed SkyClanners, but this one's presence puts an immediate sour taste on his tongue. The Ragdoll had not liked him immediately upon seeing him, the smile too wide, the teeth too sharp-looking, the eyes unblinking. A demon infesting what little sense Dawnglare has.

Blazestar bristles at Mallowlark approaching Sorrelkit with his maniac expression. Like Shrimpy Boy, he feels as though there has to be ill-intent behind such a face, such a question. The leader comes to sit beside the ginger daylight warrior, fixing Mallowlark with dark blue eyes. "Are you going to eat the bones?" He asks, distaste thick in his voice.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[DAWNGLARE]

Commotion, commotion. When anything happened, SkyClan chattered like birds. Unwanted questions could never quite be avoided. They never quite knew when to duck; when to quit. That familiar chirping bird on the wind draws his attention quicker than anything else would, and a turn of a head points him to all - seeing eyes and kittish innocence. Dawnglare stands with a narrow of his eyes – then flaring into alertness with the register of Blazestar's bristling form, the brute resembling an over-fed porcupine due to what, a smiling face?

His scoff is not hidden as he moves forward, easily slipping into the empty space beside him. The edge in Blazestar's voice is met with Dawnglare's own heavy gaze, mimicry of his very name, and the threat of a heavy a frown. " He will not, " he bites back, tail flipping sideward alongside the lilt of his voice.

It occurs, oh, it occurs, that Dawnglare knows so very little of Mallowlark's common leisures. How he picks apart his food, when he sleeps and rises – a certain sadness churns his stomach, but at the same time, fresh excitement blooms and scratches further in his skull. An opportunity to learn, opportunity now given. What of the sacrifice? What of his so-declared uncaring for them all? He'd be plenty occupied. Pool blue eyes drag across the scene, sinking in the detail; thing more important than anyone here would ever realize. Affection flickers warm, for a moment, but he fails to be anything but discomforted in Blazestar's presence.

Warmth is replaced with uncertainty, creeping question; for clarity. " ...Will you? " is tacked on nonjudgmentally, wide eyes blinking to the tom in question as shoulders jostle against his. It is a thing unimaginable to him, but if Mallowlark were to do such a thing, Dawnglare would certainly be plenty open to the idea. A tongue swipes across his lips, imagining the sensation. It pricks along his tongue.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Charcoal paws wander the camp aimlessly as he goes through the process of re-remembering where everything was located- a few steps here, and the nursery was in his path. A few steps there, the medicine den. His dad's den, the apprentice's den, the fresh kill pile. Once he's done, he finally allows himself to tune in to the sound of people talking- specifically his mentor's voice above the rest. He's babbling to someone, though his tone suggests something close to curiosity. A sharp inhale of breath reveals his father, Dawnglare, Sorrelkit, Shrimpy Boy, and Mallowlark are present. His nose shrivels at the faded smell; Mallowlark was beginning to smell like their medicine den's nests. A look of distaste is hard to hide as he pads over to join the group, sniffing at his mentor's side curiously.

"Who's eating what?" He asks, the talk of bones still present in conversation. His father radiates a smell of irritation, and he knows exactly why- the Moorlander was probably doing something weird, wasn't he? "Bones are good for you." He lies to the black-pawed tom, his voice holding a tone of amusement- obviously joking. Perhaps he wouldn't get it, or perhaps he'd choke on a bone and rot where he lies. Either way, Fireflypaw wasn't exactly picky. ​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

He supposed the questions- both from the kitten and from Shrimpy Boy- were sound in their intentions. Why would they know? Wasteful beings that likely buried the 'unusable' parts of their food... but it wasn't their fault. They knew not what you could do with the rest! To use every part of your kill- wide eyes of silver swept over them, and he parted his grin-curved fangs to speak- only for another voice to speak up. A tom he was not expecting to approach, and- his question brought a bubbling giggle, one that spilled forth even more feverishly when Dawnglare moved close. He did not squander his opportunity for closeness then, greedy as he grasped for a way to express his affection, forehead pressing against the medic's shoulder for a long moment.

"No! 'Course not," he hummed, brightness in his tone despite the tension. It was a certain talent of the Cheshire wraith to slide effortlessly past narrowed glares- that, or he simple did not notice them. Still unblinking, his gaze flickered between the leader and his night-footed son. The apprentice's sarcasm elicited a bursting cackle from the domino tom, leaping from his throat without caution. "They're not," he laughed at the misconception, rowdy brightness in his voice. "If you swallow the pieces they'll- r-rip your guts into streamers! Don't want that," and as he said it, his gaze returned to Sorrelkit. A bit of advice to carry forth into adulthood, that one! A pearl, gleaming iridescent- for her to carry and protect!

His gaze lingered over to the dawn-painted face beside him, and he laughed again as he looked, dissonant melody. Distracting, but- this was an opportunity, wasn't it? Not just to help them all, but to show his pastimes to his mate beyond the skull they had exchanged along with their confessions. "Don't eat them- but it's a shame to waste the bones, isn't it? Which is why I collect them! So if you don't want them..."

Of course, as Shrimpy Boy had suggested, he would find his own should he be refused... but it would be a shame to let these ones be discarded without their final send-off.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[Sorrelpaw !]

SORREL — she’s been living on the highest shelf.
Before the strange cat before her can answer, several others are drawn over by his question.
Their criticism is scathing, but lost to Sorrel as she flickers wide honey optics from one to another, offering each of them a little but eager wave.
At Fireflypaws statement, however, her eyes widen in awe at his smarts. "They are?!" She gasps, her surprise genuine, how wonderful to know! Maybe she could get big and strong like Orangeblossom…
Hopes and dreams are quickly squandered as Mallowlark quickly corrects and says not to eat them.
Yet, Fireflypaw was very smart… he had to be the correct one, right?
Her inward hyper fixation on the subject is swept away as soon as Mallowlark reveals that while he won’t eat them, he collects them.
"You have a collection? Can I see?" She is quick to ask, giving one last look to the bones before her before thinking some more. "If you show me, I’ll give ya the bones!" She hums with a solidifying nod, gathering the bones closer as if she was holding them hostage until the large warrior agreed.

"speech"

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[BLAZESTAR]

Dawnglare's intrusion brings Blazestar's lips into a revealing snarl. He does not emit a growl, nor a single verbal sign of disdain, but the look he gives first Dawnglare and then his ill-gotten mate is poisonous. His existence is a constant reminder of his medicine cat's betrayal, of his first friend in the world's choice to break the warrior code that had cost him his family.

He gives Shrimpy Boy a flat look, realizing the poor ginger daylight warrior may have no idea about the hostilities. Fireflypaw ambles close, scarred eyes unseeing. Blazestar's fury begins to sizzle like cinders touched by raindrops; he gives Dawnglare a final hard look, before pressing his muzzle to his son's jet-black ear in a greeting and a gesture of affection.

"Sorrelkit, I'm sure I hear Orangeblossom calling for you." It's a command, a warning for the little kit to leave the WindClanner and his macabre bone collection alone. He says nothing further, though; he's not surprised a former minion of Sootstar's has a grisly treasure of carrion.

He walks past them all, touching Fireflypaw's shoulder with the tip of his tail before he disappears in the direction of his den.

// out </3​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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