pafp RAINY DAY & † Tadpoles & prompt

[SHARPSHADOW]

† She is restless as she picks her way through the damp earth. Clumps of reeds brush uncomfortably past his pelt. The only comfort his dead tail could ever bring is that it does not betray his frustration. Low to the ground, she tastes the air with a sandpaper tongue. There is stress in every step, lingering too long. Rainshade would've told him he does nothing because he hesitates, but he can't think of what else he would possibly do.

Then a drop of rain splatters on his nose.

And steadily, more and and more come to dance upon his fur. It's not as if hunting mid-drizzle was unheard of, but he slips out of his crouch all the same. The gentle humidity warms his cheeks. And for a moment, he can only look to the sky, jaws parted ever-slightly. The clouds are the color of his eyes.

She picks her way forward, and the fronds give way to wetland and pools of still water. She casts a shadow over it. Was it shadow, or was it only her? He can see the worry of his brows and the dip of his frown. It wasn't raining so hard, and yet, he already looks like he's swam a fox-length, and then some. The drooping of his ears does not help. Could he truly blame nature?

There are swimming little things clouding the sight of him, like a bug that could swim. Or fish, but.. not. Sharppaw lets the rain slide off his nose as he stares. Unconsciously, she's lifting a paw. It slices through the water, flicking water droplets into the air.

Her paw's are empty, though. Sharppaw can only stare dimly at her dripping paw.

[ @loampaw <3 shes being so emo im sorry. NO SMOGMAW'S ALLOWED!!!! ]​

 

[loampelt]

Rain has a way of stirring something in Loampaw. Not quite a memory, but the echoes of such. A heady gray sky, the feeling of hurry as if Loampaw is being chased at the heels. It is a weight on his crown, or nestled in the groove between his shoulder blades. He doesn't hurry, not in the way his bones want, but he does hasten his steps. The rain is cold and cuts damp lines down his thick pelt; the drops that follow go down these paths without resistance.

But there are tracks in the damp ground, two paws on the left and two on the right, scored down the center where a tail has drug. Loampaw follows at a pace just quick enough to not be a walk, and laughs when he finds Sharppaw at the end of it, hunkered over stagnant water.

"Has anyone eh-eh-ever t-tuh-told you that yuh-you leave tr-truh-tracks like uh-an otter?" Loampaw sits at Sharppaw's side, glances at her concentrated face in profile, and then turns his attention towards the where Sharppaw stares, "I-ee-uh seen th-thuh-these before. Under ice."

Loampaw had thought they were dead. They are lively now, darting in endless circuits without mind for their observers or one another. There are countless moments where Loampaw expects two or more of them to collide, and yet each time they narrowly avoid one another.

"You th-thuh-think we can ea-eat these?" Loampaw leans out over the water and taps the surface with his curled paw. The creatures below scatter in conjunct with the ripples Loampaw's touch had left, then they congeal like gnats in the storm as soon as the water is disturbed only by the steady rain.

Then, an oddity.

Loampaw nudges Sharppaw on his shoulder and then nods out into the water, "That fuh-fuh-fat one there huh-has fucking legs!"​

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tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 10 moons​

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[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepaw follows the otter-shaped tracks Loampaw speaks of, unsurprised to find two dark-furred apprentices soaking in swampwater up to their belly fur. He nears the edge of the pool, paws squelching in the mud, and peers into the water. Little dark shapes dart in and out, clouds of them. Tadpoles. "Why don't you try one and see if you can eat it?" He directs his question both to Loampaw and Sharppaw, his tone almost bored. "Let the rest of us know if it's worth eating."

He tilts his head, following the thick knots of creatures with his eyes. "Can't be too filling, though."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Magpiepaw]

Magpiepaw is following the older apprentices for no real reason other than he has nothing else to do. His mentor was taken from him for the time being for something or another and with little patience to wait in camp for her he had wandered outside and promptly spotted the two looming over a pool in the distance. The dark apprentice lifts his head curiously, white throat flashing like the undertail of a deer on high alert before quickly plodding his way after them so he could not be left standing there within view of any cat who might put him to work.
The description of 'tracks like an otter' has him look back at his own tracks, uneven pawsteps left trailing behind him; the soft imprint of his own awkward gait forever immortalized within the muck of the soft swamp earth or until a fresh rain cleanses them from the surface. What did his look like, he wondered, but his thoughts were lost as the talk of the tadpoles continued and mentions of them being a food source. Were they? He recalled Smogmaw eating a mouthful of these once but given it was Smogmaw it was hard to tell exactly if they were genuine food or the deputy was foolish. It could really be either.
Wide eyes look to Granitepaw as he approaches, goads them into it and taking the challenge himself the awkward young tom dips his head into the water with a sudden lunge and withdraws it just as quickly; splashing dirty liquid everywhere and teeth clutched together tight. Water dribbled from his black lips, spilled between canines and he could feel the writhing mass of tiny squirming creatures in it before open his mouth and hacking them right back up onto the earth at his paws to writhe about. No. He could not. They moved too much and trying to chew them was a chore.
"...you do it." Blue-violet eyes looked to Granitepaw, then back to Sharppaw and Loampaw with no expression.
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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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"worry not, my little tadpole! mama will keep you nice and safe, alright? now, take your time. one step at a time, little one."

rain droplets gently weave in and out of charcoal fur, the gentle splash of tailed little amphibians making an ear twitch. they're not here to bother the apprentices and they hope they don't bother them either. they simply wish to enjoy the rain, to feel it within their long coat, and allow it to cool them from the outside, in. the happy memories of their mother makes them smile as they sit down, tail curling around their paws. the others talk about eating the tadpole, and chilledstar cannot help the laughter that spills from their lungs, at the vulgarity in young loampaw's words.

that's certainly one way to put it, kit.

they shake their head with the thought. they don't wish to interrupt the fun with their words. they're more than okay just listening and watching.​

 

[Ternstar.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 05 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple​

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// tw: gross eating things

With insects aplenty always scurrying about, Maggotpaw has rarely turned her sights to the water for food, not even when she's truly hungry. She dislikes the feeling of dampness upon her fur - soaking down to her bones, setting her fur on end. It's not... unpleasant, if she's being honest, but it's unsettling and strange - foreign. She's never dealt all that well with new things. A gathering of apprentices beneath chilledstars watchful gaze catches her attention, and before she knows it her paws carry her forwards, taking her place beside magpiepaw. Where she belongs. She cares little for sharppaw, but loampaws curiosity and granitepaws challenging words do interest her. Are they edible? Turquoise gaze is utterly blank and unblinking as he proceeds to practically drown himself in pursuit of the wriggling... things, and promptly spit them out. He so easily says that they can have them - and who is she to refuse. A rather feral glint in her eyes, the wriggling creatures are pounced upon before the rest ever get a chance, some swallowed whole and still wriggling, the rest given only a cursory chew. Only once they are all gone does she turn jaded gaze upon the rest and say rather thoughtfully "... they're alright I suppose. Kind of slimy but meaty at the same time,". Her tones is as bland as her expression - utterly unbothered. She kind of wants more - perhaps she can convince magpiepaw to grab more.

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[FERNDANCE]

Shadowing the apprentices a short distance away, the cinnamon she-cat had not been too invested in what they were doing until more and more gathered to where a commotion seemed to be forming. Her head cracked from left to right as she focused on the ShadowClanners, squinting as she tried to ascertain what had gained their attention. Gliding over, she craned her neck over the little ones, her ears twitching with excitement as she spotted little black masses scuttering about in the water. Tadpoles! She had scarcely seen them before, before the groups, avoiding water was a given for no one in her family knew how to swim. Still, she had to wonder what they were doing out in ShadowClan territory, fish weren't exactly synonymous with the marsh-living weirdos. The fat one has fucking legs! Declared Loampaw, and Ferndance had to do a double take at the absurdity of the statement. A fish with legs? Shuffling to the front of the crowd, the Lead Warrior watched as Maggotpaw snatched a few of them up, barely blinking as she waited for an answer, fascinated.

Curiosity soon got the better of the ticked tabby and she leaned near the water, wincing as they seemed to duck away from the shade she cast. She moved back and sure enough, they returned. Like a flash, Ferndance held her breath plunged her head into the water, teeth biting at thin air until eventually, they found something She nipped at one and plucked it out of the water, spitting it to the ground as she struggled to keep the writhing tadpole still. Ferndance squished it between her teeth and began slowly chewing, cringing at the tart taste. They tasted far stronger than the adults of their species and she had to offer Maggotpaw a disappointed look for not preparing her for such a thing. Ah well, perhaps it was only her that tasted something akin to fish. Hunched over where the body of her prey had once been, Ferndance offered a wily smile to those present, a skinny black tail caught between her teeth. Emphasising each word as if giving an impassioned speech, the Lead Warrior mewed. "That is one of the best pieces of prey I have ever tasted in my whole life." Her eyes grew wide in faux awe as if she was convinced it would entice the other apprentices to gorge on the weird amphibians.
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[GRANITEPELT]

One of the younger apprentices, the strange dark one with the unnervingly blue eyes, darts head first into the water, mouth agape. Granitepaw watches with stony interest. From the expression on Magpiepaw's face as he struggles to chew the wormy creatures, he determines the experience isn't a pleasant one. "You do it," he challenges back, and Granitepaw snorts derisively.

Maggotpaw tries them too, unaffected by whatever had squicked Magpiepaw out. Granitepaw says nothing, though, until Ferndance eats them and pretends they are a delicacy. "You all must think I'm frogbrained," he says, and he thinks, but does not say aloud, Like you. He gives the murky water a glance before muttering, "I'm going to go look for real prey. I'm wasting time here playing with minnows."

The gray apprentice can't admit it to himself, but the lighthearted atmosphere has begun to make him feel wildly uncomfortable. It's stirred a sensation he isn't used to, one he can't place, and one he doesn't have a name for.

// out :,)​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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