pafp PEACEFUL WATERS | squishmallow

[FERNDANCE]

The Carrionplace was a bastion of treasure just ripe for the picking and few could claim they frequented the place more than the cinnamon tabby. The threat of rats seemed negligible compared to the potential of an otherworldly haul and that day, Ferndance felt as if she had hit the jackpot. Sitting in one of the many black bundles was a soft animal (presumed dead by the cinnamon tabby), sporting skeletal wings held together by thin black cotton and a white, dead-eyed stare. Two white fangs that lacked any bluntness came from the creature's smiling mouth. Upon having some vague recollection of what the animal might be, the warrior knew she had to show someone.

Holding the creature by its plush wing, Ferndance waddled into camp, near-straddling the rotund bat as its corners threatened to topple her over with each new step. It had been a battle that lasted the stretch of the territory, but the quest to bring it home had become a fixation. If she dropped it where it was, someone else may take it and that would've been a travesty. Her eyes scanned the camp, looking for one cat in particular. By now, she'd learned that she would find Batchaser somewhere in camp during the day, unless it was time for patrols, then the smoke would likely find himself elsewhere. Luckily, Mirepurr's call had long past, and as the sun crawled into a later evening, nothing was stopping her from finding the other.

Hobbling closer to him, Ferndance let go of the plush creature right before his face. She stared incessantly before pressing a paw down on it, contorting its face before releasing and watching its 'skin' pop back up. The tabby repeated it a few times until she was certain Batchaser understood that this affront to nature wasn't alive. "I saw this and thought of you." Sure, it was a little moldy, but so was her friend, and that was why she loved him. "Do you want to kick it? I really want to kick it."

@BATCHASER


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[BATCHASER]

Broken rays of sunlight hit the back of his dark, messed up curls. Lounging lazily from his perch, atop a flat chilled stone in the mud-slicked camp. Quietly, observing the hustle and bustle of Shadowclanners doing whatever duties, he doesn't really think about. It's quite a dull day... The bicolored warrior's tail curls and sways behind him as he hums a random tone to himself.

Hm? Oh. He swiveled a large ear toward pawsteps padding closer to him. He withdrew his head from the very nice rock, craning his neck upwards with a blink. From between his curls, heavy half - lidded eyes slide to Ferndance and... the thing she unceremoniously dropped in front of him. It had soft-looking skeletal wings, a dead-eyed stare, and blunt white fangs peeking from its mouth. "Oh." It's a bat... A weird looking one. He watches the cinnamon hued molly press a paw down the creature.

Batchaser's hidden eyes widen for a fraction at the creature, bouncing right back up. So sick. His tail lifts up just a little, stretching one of his legs forward with his pale toes spread to bat at the prone thing's "skin". With a sharpened fanged smile, large ears perked forward as he busied himself in the new entertainment. Just pressing and swatting at the creature who shared his namesake, with his whiplike tail lashing behind him.

He halts in his playing, with a surprised noise escaping his pale splattered throat "...Me?" Ferndance brought it all the way back to camp because it reminded her of him? What a strange conclusion. He stares at the molly, then tilts his head down at the creature in turn. "I like it. I think... this is a wonderful find." He nods his head with a smile. He lets a playful grin spread across his maw, as he lets his free paw swat at his plaything. "I wanna kick it."

𓂃 𝅄᠂ ⭒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ☽ ₊⁺ 𝑯𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑬𝑵 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺 & 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑷 𝑮𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑮𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑮

•  

• temp batchaser ref.

  

• ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ― cismale ; HE / HIM, fine with gendered terms.
  ⸝⸝ CURRENTLY 34 MOONS & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking / open to crushes & romance
  ✦ a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
  ✦ thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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[FORESTSHADE]

Forestshade's sharp ears prick as she picks up the exchange, curiosity causing her head to lift and face the pair of warriors. Ferndance seems to have brought something into camp paired with her animated chatter, and whatever it is, Batchaser likes it, evident in the sound of him swatting the object. She gets to her paws and approaches calmly, her steps steady and deliberate. After all, she has every crevice of this camp memorized; she always knows exactly where to step.

"What is it?" She trills curiously, leaning down to sniff at the intriguing find. By the sounds of it, they're both enjoying it quite a bit. She reaches forward a paw and sinks it into the object, and it engulfs it. "Woah! It's softer than moss!" She recoils her paw in surprise for a moment, only to bring it back and repeatedly sinking it in. "Stinks, though." ​

 

[lizardthroat]

Lizardthroat does not usually bother with the trinkets in the carrionplace. Too many shinies to sort through, much too much illness to avoid. Hunting there is a thrill, no doubt, but on any good day she'd much prefer the borders that have Clans on the other sides of them. Intelligent cats who can bicker with her, should their hearts feel the desire to. Even as Ferndance awkwardly waddles into camp with a bloated beast of prey, Lizardthroat struggles to find immediate care. She presses herself to, if only to satisfy the curious urge she no doubt has.

"Soft? I think I'll take your word for it," the inky-black she-cat hums, ivory teeth clicking together as she looks the carcass up and down. It's awkward looking, its fur not spiny or feathery or slick or - anything. Fuzzy, maybe? Ugly, certainly. "It looks as awful as it smells, Forestshade," Lizardthroat comments after, sitting herself a mouselength away from the distended creature. It bows under the weight of the others and both does and doesn't look at risk of exploding. If it does, she doesn't think any of them would be able to rid the stench from their pelts.​

 

[MIRESTAR]

Ferndance might as well be the Carrionplace itself with legs. Her seemingly self-made goal of always one-upping her previous antics and finds never fails to emerge victorious; with mischievous eyes and a devilish smile, she presents her newest.

How kind of her. It reminded her of Batchaser, she says. Upon closer inspection, Mirepurr can't exactly find fault in such a comparison — bat-like, just like his namesake, and adoringly odd. Ferndance's gift would be heartwarming to see, if it weren't for the soon-upcoming fact... they would form a pair and cause a ruckus. At least it is seldom a risk; the worst so far has been old prey landing in your ear.

"What if it's... a weapon?" Mirepurr muses, hoping to mirror Ferndance's attitude. Her and Batchaser fiddle with the thing, toy-like and childish, but endearing nonetheless. "The stink is going to turn us all into Twoleg-loving kittypets!"

Forestshade dares to touch it; Mirepurr does not. For all they know, the entire ordeal might be an impressive prank orchestrated by none other than Ferndance herself.
​

 

[Gigglepaw]

Gigglepaw knows that her mom is one of a kind, and that a lot of cats around camp had strong opinions on her - but she was mom, and she had taught Gigglepaw that a little individuality never hurt anyone. Even if that included little quirks like bringing back water- and dirt-logged contraptions back to camp from the Carrionplace. Gigglepaw, for one, had never seen anything like what Ferndance placed in front of Batchaser today, and her ears and tail went straight up at Mirepurr's suggestion.

"A weapon!" She gasped, but that idea didn't stop her from drawing ever-closer, sticking her head out to try and get a good sniff of the thing. She was emboldened by Forestshade's actions - after all, if her mentor was brave enough to touch it, surely she had the same courage in her! So she stepped forward and placed a paw gently against the object, jumping back a bit in the seconds after. It was softer than moss, and Gigglepaw wished that she could take apart the thing and use its skin as a nest, if that wasn't too morbid.

"You're sayin' that the Twolegs are usin' this thing to spy on us, or somethin'?" Gigglepaw whispered conspiratorially, looking between the gathered cats. If not for the wicked smile on her maw, one might be forgiven for thinking she was serious.

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• GIGGLEPAW ✩ apprentice of shadowclan, six moons
  → blinks incessantly & uncontrollably.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

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