rotisserie chicken — pipit

[mottlefox]

It's close to the middle of the day when they set off; an unusual time for a pair of ShadowClanners to be away from camp, perhaps, but there's method to their madness which has yet to be revealed. The sky above is a weird grey-blue that makes Mottlefox think even more snow is going to come by later on, which is just great— he isn't an avid enjoyer of snow (it brings back memories they'd like to avoid) but it made the little skittery things they hunt easier to find when it's stopped.

His tail just about wags back and forth with delight as he turns to face his new Clanmate. He'd promised Pipit a tour, and by StarClan the dark-furred tom was gonna get one! Their plan had to be executed in the daylight, when there was the least chance of foxes, and so that Pipit could see their destinations. Speaking of:

"'Kay. So, what've you seen already?" They quiz him in a singsong as they exit camp, Mottlefox twitching a friendly ear to the camp guards. Mismatched eyes dart back and forth across their adventuring buddy's face. Sharp features like the bird he's been named after, and - he'd noticed earlier - a little bit of Skunktail around his ears. That's cool. It's fun seeing resemblance between parent and kit. Pipit's fur is kind of like a darker version of Forestshade's and while Mottlefox is, like, super duper sure those two aren't related it's interesting to see what fur colours ShadowClan has these days.

// @pipit !! ​

 

[pipitclaw !!]

Adventure is something he has a near bottomless appetite for... and to have been permitted to enter ShadowClan grants new access to a surprising amount of unexplored land. Granted, he had done a little bit of snooping with Snowpaw in tow (she'd been very unwilling to acknowledge his hunting skills) but it was nothing quite so elaborate as a guided tour. Mottlefox was one of the few of the warriors that didn't actively sneer at his rambunctious presence and if Pipit had any larger an ego, he might assume them already his biggest fan. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for the pale feline he journeyed with now, Little Fry (the wild-hearted Basilpaw) had taken that trophy and title already.

A blazing gaze that mimics the warmth of eager tones turns to the odd-eyed one, "You know, I haven't seen nearly as much as I want to! I'm convinced Smogmaw's told the others I'm a cannibal or something equally unsavory," he balks with a practiced sense of dismay-- the truth is that ShadowClan's "playing-hard-to-get" nature was far from boring. "I've seen that dark, hard patch of land at the border... Smoulderpath? Sunderpad? Eh..." The name is already lost in his excitement to learn other, more interesting things.

"I've been seeing that big, weird, gnarled tree-thing when the fog isn't so heavy... haven't gone that way yet but it seems interesting. Heard stories about how a bunch of strangers were living there for a minute? Ya think any of them still linger or is it just ghosts now?" His tail sweeps behind him in an arc of impatient curiosity, jagged teeth revealed in a cheek-aching grin. "Where are we going today? It's much brighter out than usual.."​