border PANDEMONIUM / EGG HUNT

[Orangestar]

The first thing Orangestar notices as she approaches the Twolegplace border is noise. There's little prey-rustling, which is already a bad sign so early in the day, but the chatter and chirp of twoleg kits has the leader on edge from the moment she hears it. Bright colours flash beyond the pine trunks, Twoleg pelts bright in the sunshine, and SkyClan's leader gestures for the patrol behind her to be quiet.

She doesn't approach the treeline itself, instead taking to the branches a couple of rows back where she would be better hidden. She has never seen this many twoleg kits in her life. They scurry around like oversized ants, squealing in shrill delight (or pain? Orangestar doesn't know which) as they find clusters of the eggs that Johnnyflame had seen the adult twolegs laying about. Some put them into little pouches, or take their acquisitions back to the adult twolegs that linger in groups closer to the fence.

"Maybe it is a ceremony." Orangestar muses. Maybe Eggshell had given them some valuable insight. Some of the twoleg kits cradle the eggs delicately as if they hold something precious, but Orangestar proceeds to watch in horror as one of the older kits cracks one open and begins to eat the inside.

ooc ✧ 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦

• // Welcome to the next part of our Easter event: the egg hunt! The twolegs will begin to move on a little later in the thread, but for now the morning is filled with twoleg kits having a grand old time searching for the eggs left along the SkyClan border!
  
  apprentice tag @Springpaw
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  ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
  " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  
  — single ; mentoring springpaw
  — speech is in #E3B2A9
  — tags | art by pin
  

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[Cherryblossom]

Cherrypaw creeps up behind Orangestar, on the opposite side of Springpaw. A scrutinizing frown curls on her face. "What kind of ceremony looks like this?" she quietly hisses, tail tip twitching. She shoots a glance at Orangestar, the tease glimmering through the criticism. Ceremonies were supposed to be controlled, solemn—SkyClan's leader of all cats should know. Perhaps twoleg ceremonies were always this chaotic, but Cherrypaw finds it hard to believe that such a mysterious sort of creature would have such unorganized rituals. "I think they're just playing a game for the kits. Like 'fetch the mossball.'" She shrugs.

The calico nestles herself deeper into the foliage, light dappling her patchwork coat. Her frown deepens as they witness one of the kits split an egg and slurp down the insides. "There goes the whole thing about twolegs laying eggs," she mutters. Surely even twolegs, as barbaric and vicious as Slate always makes them out to be, wouldn't stoop to eating their own offspring, right? It's Newleaf, so they certainly must have enough prey.

skyclan warrior | "speech." | tags​

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[Chickbloom]

Given the circumstances, Eggshell is probably lower than he should be, but still too high up for his liking, the worst of both worlds. The boy sits on a thick and safe branch, still a bit unsure of his climbing abilities (and in no mood to return to his twolegs with broken bones).

Speaking of, amber eyes swivel over the shouting kits, wincing at every shriek of what was surely pain as they pushed and shoved. Was the ceremony always this violent? Eggshell had only ever caught glimpses from the window of his nest before, and even those were when he was but a kit. Watching it with more mature (but not necessarily intelligent) eyes while out in the open was definitely a different experience.

The coward’s focus is pulled away from the colorful carnage as he overhears Orangestar mutter. A tiny spark of something approaching pride fluttered in his chest at the remark, the thought of the most important cat in Skyclan actually listening to what he had to say sending shivers down his spine.

Eggshell returns his attention to the twolegs, now slightly more sure of himself, and - oh. Oh God.

The skittish Scottish Fold is quick to turn away, all efforts now focused on keeping that morning’s meal in his stomach. So far, the only sound he’d made during the patrol was dry heaving. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the coward feels his senses settle just a bit. He’s still turned around, now flatly refusing to watch any more carnage. If they wanted a conversation, Orangestar and Cherrypaw would have to do it with the back of his head.

“M-Maybe…m-maybe I was w-wrong…” Eggshell responds to the latter, still panting with the exhaustion that came from keeping his stomach in check. “Y-Yeah, I have to be…” There was no way twolegs were capable of that, right? Oh lord, had his housefolk done that when they were kits?

Maybe the boy should be grateful that they were hardly around.​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

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"Twolegs do like their ceremony's." Johnnyflame confirmed, watching the kits scampering and shouting below with a thoughtful look. "Can't say I recall seein' this one, though. Cherrypaws right, it almost looks like their playing some kind of game with how excited they all are, but you don't usually see twolegs kits in big packs like this."

They were social, most certainty, and Johnyflame could recall seeing groups of 4 or five or even more running around in the parks or down the streets of twoleg place, but nothing quite to the scale of this. The only time he could recall seeing more than that in one place he was certain they'd been celebrating something, the entire yard decorated in colorful ribbons and floating things, with all the kits wearing strange pointy hats on their heads.

That had been a special occasion of some sort, he was certain, and this most likely was as well.

"I wonder why they're using eggs though. I've seen twoleg kits do a lot of things to amuse themselves and I can confirm this is unusual for them- seemingly harmless, but odd all the same. Couldn't they search for anything the adults put out? Why weird eggs?"

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[Howlfire]

It is not entirely unusual to hear noise spilling over the border with the twolegplace. However, the loud chattering of the twoleg kits, is certainly an oddity. Padding up alongside her patrol, Howlfire watches in curiosity as the twoleg kits scamper about as they found clusters of eggs. Howlfire had only heard idle chatter from clanmates about the egg a previous patrol had found. Her whiskers twitch in amusement, when Cherrypaw mutters something about the eggs having been laid by twolegs, a suggestion from Eggshell clearly.

"Do you think they're having fun?" Howlfire asked, inclining her head as she watched the twoleg kits. A small twoleg kit found an egg and held it aloft, screeching in what could have been excitement or pain, before scurrying to one of the older twolegs​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchbolt wasn't as viciously against Twolegs as some others he knew, but there was- and would always be- something about them that profoundly unsettled him. The way they slenderly lumbered about, babbling and mewing- and they were too loud, always too loud. Unpredictable and giant- what could be worse than huge, hairless, whimsical things with rules you could never understand.

One of the twoleg kits drew an egg away from their face, a great bite taken out of it... only for Twitchbolt to glimpse that the egg was a deep brown, similar to the colour of his own fur, and... there was residue smeared all around the mouth of the young one. There was a gap in its grin as it made a noise that might have been a laugh- Twitchbolt's nose wrinkled.

"I- I guess..." he answered Howlfire, voice wracked with very clear uncertainty. Johnnyflame's question, too, pecked away at him- for if a daylight warrior didn't know, who would? Why was he asking them?

Muscles spasming in a series of namesake twitches, the biboloured tom stood in shivering, pondering silence for a few long moments. "Mmm- maybe they hate birds or something..." It wasn't a very conclusive answer, or given with much conviction at all. But he supposed this could be some sort of... ritualistic vengeance. The thought sent another shiver pulsing through him.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Orangestar]

It feels like forever that they watch the strange twoleg behaviour, the larger ones calling their kits back when they stray too close to the forest's edge. After a while, though, they begin to cluster in small groups, and depart the fenceline with loud calls to each other and shrill squeals from the twoleg kits as they show each other their prey. They're like patrols, Orangestar muses with a wry wrinkle of her nose. She'd never be privy to the whims of their giant neighbours, but she'd be lying if she said that they didn't ever do things that looked similar to SkyClan. She can't make out a deputy among them, but perhaps it's more like a nursery outing.

"Could be prey." Orangestar echoes her thoughts aloud, gaze flicking to Johnnyflame. "Like how kits use freshkill for hunting practice when we have some to spare."

Cherrypaw might have a point. Is this a strange game of mossball, if it's not a ceremony? Eggshell's sheepish meow suggests that it may be, even if he had been wrong about the former idea. Her attention darts briefly to Howlfire, an unconvinced but thoughtful noise escaping her as Twitchbolt answers first. Orangestar doesn't know if twolegs are capable of having fun.

"... I think they're gone." She announces to her Clanmates after the birds begin to chirp again, flicking an ear decisively. She slides down from the tree, pointing her nose towards the edge of the forest. "We might be able to mark the border properly now."​

 

[Hazelbeam]

————————————————————⊰★★★⊱———————————————————

"My twoleg has a bunch of these in our nest too, I have no idea why! But they are fun to roll around. They rattle weird, I'm not sure birds are inside them? Maybe something else? It smells nice at least." An odd tradition she was not entirely familiar with but it didn't seem dangerous-her twoleg had been doing it only this year, "I think it's a game too."
Games were fine, games meant the twolegs were in good moods so they would be less inclined to be bothered by wandering cats perhaps - maybe she could go and snoop around and steal one of those eggs later to see what all the fuss was about but that was for after patrol. "What if we make a game too? Can hide some rocks for kits to find in the camp! Everyone likes rocks!"

★ such a wonder to be under her spell ———— ★ she's a woman in total control of herself

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  Hazelbeam
  —⊰⋅ Daylight Warrior of SkyClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Black/Blue Chimera w/blue eyes
  - Does NOT wear her witch hat while hunting or on patrol.
  

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[COMETPAW]

"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen anything like this before." Cometpaw remarks as he observes from the patrol, standing there completely oblivious as he makes no effort to hide as the others do. Twolegs were, well, nice. They usually approached him and stroked his fur. Then, it clicked that these cats lived in the wild and had no contact with twolegs. They must have been scary creatures to cats who did not know their kindness, towering with their height and riding in their monsters and all that. So, Cometpaw takes note of the SkyClanners' behavior and ducks behind a tree.

Green eyes peer forth, attempting to decipher the behavior of the humans though to no avail. This "ceremony" was unfamiliar to the young cat, who had really only been alive long enough to know of their leafbare traditions — feasting, ripping up colorful paper, and playing with their version of toys. "They seem happy. They're making happy noises, at least. It must be a game." The daylight apprentice murmured, flicking an ear as delighted screeches and giggling sounded off in the distance.

The lilac tabby turned to the other daylight member, who had suggested that SkyClan try their paw at their own version of the twolegs' egg hunt. Eyes brightening, the apprentice chirped, "Hey, that sounds fun, Hazelbeam! I can help gather some rocks." Surely the others wouldn't mind a harmless game to keep the kits occupied?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐲

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  comet
  
  

  — he/him; daylight apprentice
  — shorthaired lilac tabby with green eyes and low white; wears a gray collar and usually a sweater
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[DAWNGLARE]

He was unlike some of their clanmates that so vehemently detested everything twoleg. Just the same, he was unlike those that joyfully fit their skulls between between twoleg's furless toes. Dawnglare acknowledged their usefulness — he would be a fool not to, when despite their sometimes mouse - like brains, they could errect structures that battled against the very way of nature. They broke down things into nonsense; nothing less than toys. Though he so detested twoleg kits, they at least, had an excuse for their foolhardy behavior. Full - grown twolegs, however, had no such thing.

Dawnglare watches their behavior with eyes slitted. Though this was not the first he has seem of this... it has been some time, indeed. Amongst this crowd, his loftier sense of knowledge was due only to who he was, not where he came from. Between the pelts of Johnnyflame, Hazelbeam, Cometpaw... he supposes also, that pitiful scrap with the twice - over ears, his origin was not something unique.

" Twolegs are always eager to twist something into nonsense, " amongst the speculation, he comments. " I assure you, if we could speak to them... " his gaze briefly flickers to those amongst them that carried a less-than-orthodox name, as if checking to find that they hadn't cracked the code to twoleg speech whilst his gaze had strayed away. If any cat were to ever do so, surely, it could not possibly be by the likes of them. " They would tell us they use eggs to symbolize their love of soil, or appreciation of the number two. "

They linger for long enough to see them come and go... though the squealing never quite worms its way out from his ears. His right ear flicks with every lilt of nonsensical word. Something unimportant. That is almost always what they did. " That is to say: we would not understand it either way. "

Someway, somehow, Hazelbeam finds inspiration in this sight, rather than pity. Rocks are not useful as food, nor as medicine, so as far as he is concerned, they are quite useless. ( Of course, were he offered one on a silver platter, his opinion would be quite different... ) Idily, his tail twitches at the thought of claiming one for himself... but, ah, he is far too busy.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

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• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 61 moons old as of 2.1.24. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest. Delusional and very much stuck in his ways. The death of his closest friend has helped him none, in this
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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