pafp ribbit ribbit | unknown object

[scorchfrost]

The chill of early evening was beginning to set in as Scorchfrost began a self-appointed patrol. The sun had begun its descent towards the horizon but wasn't quite there yet, lingering an hour or two above the distant skyline. It was, however, low enough to shine directly into his eyes and reflect off the patches of ice nearby, all but blinding him as he made his way to the thunderpath. His eyes were nearly squinted closed as he walked and his head was on the move, tilting in whatever direction seemed to help the most. It may have been a better idea to delay his patrol until the approach of dusk but he'd been feeling too restless to stay in camp. The tree cover helped at times, thicket and thick trunks shielding him from the low cast light, but it thinned and thickened at the most inconvenient spots.

It was perhaps his obscured vision that kept him from noticing the object alongside the thunderpath, he'd say so if asked, but, more likely than not, his attention had just wandered. He hadn't been on a patrol in a while and he was almost overwhelmed by everything around him. He could feel each pine needle beneath his paws, hear the rustle of distant creatures, see the puffs of frosted breath that curled around his barely-there vision. He felt as though today was his first day of spring, a break in the clouds that dampened his thoughts and consciousness. He didn't know how to feel about it, other than at ease.

Scorchfrost tripped over something beside the thunderpath. His paws scrabbled at the earth as he felt himself pitch over, claws digging in with delayed franticness. He hardly had enough time to tense for impact or register that he was falling, no seconds given to possibly save himself, because as soon as it happened, it was over. He had landed.. very gently?

His body, flailing limbs and all, was embraced by the soft cushion of whatever he'd just tripped on. He was too bewildered to be embarrassed. What was this?
​

[ YOU CAN'T BREAK MY SPIRIT ]​

@smogmaw

 

[smogstar]

A self-appointed patrol, and one which sought the deputy's own company. Either it's a brilliant display of initiative on Scorchfrost's part, or a thinly veiled attempt to steal him away for a private outing. The latter concept piques his curiosity the most. What resonance lay between them was solely pegged upon them both being older toms who've seen a lot in their day. Reading between the other warrior's lines proved immensely difficult, however. Scorchfrost kept all his little nuances and mannerisms tightly locked up, confined behind walls of time-hardened stoicism.

Alas, Smogmaw's focus wavers when unable to glean clarity from those around him, and by the time the small-scale patrol comes to the territorial cusp, he's half-expecting to be ambushed by Scorchfrost's real intentions.

It never happens, though. All while the deputy brushes against snowy shrubbery so as to mark his scent, his smoke-hued companion embarks on a divergent route along the thunderpath. So absorbed in his own task and inner ramblings that Smogmaw is utterly blindsided by the commotion stirred up just a ways away. "Scorchfrost? Where are- oh, stars." Head swivelled over shoulder, his peripheral vision identifies some variety of hysterical movement. Rubbernecking towards it results in seeing this exorbitant display, limbs thrashing about as if flailing in deep waters.

His panic is but a flicker before the void; as he draws near, the deputy makes out that it wasn't a wild animal to have sent his clanmate into panicked throes, but rather a pathetic, twoleg caricature of one. Debris from the thunderpath, caked in mud, covered in fine furs. "Is that... supposed'a be a frog?" he asks in a tone bemused, plodding on up and prodding at a stuffed, webbed foot. "This thing jump out at'cha?" the tom then inquires as his gaze landed on the other's. "Or is your age startin' to catch up?" ​

 

[ONYXPAW]

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH — Patrols to the border alongside Avocetfall were far from uncommon for Onyxpaw, especially as she began to carefully refine her hunting skills. She admittedly still hadn't caught anything impressive, but each patrol out gave her a chance to improve - and really, she didn't feel as though she could refuse. How could she say no to heading out of camp, when everyone else around her seemed so desperate for the same thing? It felt like there would always be silent eyes of judgement upon her if she did, which was why she once again found herself padding after her senior mentor, muzzle wrinkling as they grew closer to the thunderpath. She had always hated the smell of it, sharp and burnt and stomach-turning like rotted prey, except spread out all across one flat plain of gray.

At least the burning wasn't the only smell that greeted her today, head perking up when she identified the scent trails of both Scorchfrost and Smogmaw. She hadn't expected them to be out here, her side nudging briefly against Avocetfall's as she tried to redirect her mentor towards them. As much as anxiety tended to plague her in social situations, she much preferred being around several cats as opposed to just her and her mentor - another manifestation of her fears. Doubts drummed up by the actions of cats like Siltcloud and Granitepelt, the exact reasons why few cats dared to venture out beyond camp alone anymore. Not unless they were being foolish, that is.

The sight that greeted her as they grew close was far from anything that she had been expecting, staring at the fallen form of Scorchfrost and the plush creature that he had inadvertently found himself in the arms of. Smogmaw called it a frog, but Onyxpaw found the resemblance difficult to see even as she settled nearby. "What's it for?" Just what purpose could such an impersonation carry for a twoleg, considering it smelled of them beneath the caked on mud? Did they hunt too? She was unsure, although she did reach out with a paw, one sharp claw poking experimentally into the fuzzy side of the "frog." "It's awfully fat for a frog, don't you think...? We'd be eating for a moon if this thing were real..." There was actually genuine humor in her words, a rare visitor that was often blocked out by unease.

CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ✦ IT IS KILLING YOU

• 

• 
  ✧ shorthaired tortoiseshell point and chocolate point chimera with blue eyes
  ✧ 6 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ✧ bisexual; crushing on yellowpaw
  ✧ daughter of monarchroot and sleetjaw
  ✧ shadowclan born; silently loyal to her home
  ✧ difficult to befriend; shy to most except yellowpaw
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

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