camp she looks at me and she's crawling // a spider

leafcrackle

New member
Oct 2, 2024
11
2
3

Leafcrackle emerged from the depths of the warriors' den, tufts of moss still clinging to her wispy tricolor pelt as she'd yet to comb them out with her teeth. The air had a sharp crispness to it that hadn't been there only a few sunrises prior; leaf-fall was settling into the marshlands that ShadowClan called home and the new warrior felt a bittersweet tugging in her chest. The moons she'd spent as a kit in the nursery dragged on, but once she'd reached apprenticeship time just seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. She couldn't believe she was a warrior already. Would the rest of her life pass her by just as swiftly? She felt the need to just... slow down. She wished she could freeze the world around her with a flick of her tail.

Suddenly, the young she-cat emitted a surprised squeak and her pawsteps came to an abrupt halt as a strange sensation tickled her dappled face and chest. Her eyes reflexively squeezed shut as something light and feathery brushed against them and tugged at her whiskers.

She'd walked straight into a spider's web. Unbeknownst to her a large, albeit harmless spider was stuck to her shoulder and its webbing stretched across her frame, mixing with the moss that had been intertwined with her tortoiseshell fur.

"Uh, I think I walked into something..." She announced, raising her voice so it would reach across camp. This hadn't ever happened to her before in the twelve moons she'd been walking the forest.
u9a4dSL.png

Ln9u34C.png


leafcrackle - she/her - shadowclan - warrior - 12 moons - dilute tortoiseshell with white - penned by koi_no_yokan
 

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ Swansong has always been fond of the delicate craftsmanship of spiders. Gorgeous, ghost-pale webbing decorates ShadowClan's camp, strewn across each looming tangle of branches. They glisten with dewdrops in the creeping morning light, and Swansong cannot help but stop to admire them. She lingers near the mouth of the warrior's den, content to watch the spider's work before she begins her own day.

It seems that not all are so attentive, however. Leafcrackle walks directly into the finely crafted web that they had been admiring.

Swansong trails out after her, pale eyes sweeping over the molly's form. She can't help but feel a little disappointed at the loss, but... They stop, noting the way that the webbing weaves in with tufts of moss in Leafcrackle's fur. A tilt of their head, attentive and considering. "Oh, it looks nice on you..." they breathe softly, a pleasant smile curling across their maw. "And you've found yourself... A little friend, it seems..." Eight tiny legs cling to Leafcrackle's frame. It's an odd new home for the little weaver, but the spider doesn't seem inclined to leave anytime soon.

  • 81294824_mjXd5ejx6RrZPyn.png
  • SWANSONG ⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊⋆ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, seventeen moons.
    a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
    dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
    halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
 


Like Swansong, the fallow tabby had little desire to help Leafcrackle with her eight-legged tagalong. The she-cat's call had brought Ferndance drifting closer, her green eyes not-quite reaching the level of attentiveness required for life within the marshlands. Little tippy-taps of the spider's legs inspired her pupils to broaden on instinct, but the desire to hunt the arachnid was placated by a full stomach and a night of restless sleep. Swansong called it a little friend and Ferndance was inclined to agree. She tilted her head closer towards the blue tortoiseshell, trying to determine if she was as alarmed as Ferndance believed her to be. "Your first little friend?" She smiled sincerely, excited for Leafcrackle and, admittedly, somewhat jealous. Her tail-tip twitched as she spoke.

"It's ok... I have plenty of little friends. They can be super itchy—" and not entirely wanted by the rest of ShadowClan. The day Ferndance found a cure for her fleas would be the day that her home froze over. She opened her maw to continue speaking and then, motivated by a new wave of thought, suddenly straightened her posture. "Oh... you must name it. It's tradition." It was not tradition.

 

✧ . Though ShadowClan has changed thrice since his kithood, some things will always stay the same. Through Chilledstar's long reign, to Smogstar's unfortunately short one, to Mirestar's fresh one, ShadowClan's territory — the marshes, the creatures with in it — evolve at a slower rate than that of the clan it houses. Eerienight supposes they can be glad for that, the lot of them: some things can't be lost around here.

Like spiders. Ever-present, the tom's favorite beings to find shared shelter of the marshes. He is grateful for their presence, a light in time of hardship. Others think otherwise, such as Leafcrackle, who now finds herself intruding on one's home, and entangled in its web.

A friend, Swansong and Ferndance call it. " It has chosen you, " Eerienight agrees with a nod. Leafcrackle should be grateful for such.

" Yes, a name, " the tom echoes Ferndance at the further suggestion, before a bat ear twitches, " Friend is already taken. "​
EpC61GT.png
  • 74597010_gbJle40pG2JetDM.png
    EERIENIGHT AMAB. He / Him. Warrior of ShadowClan.
    ✧ . A spindly black tom with unblinking, dark brown eyes.
    ✧ . ??? x ???
    ✧ . Mentored by Spectermask
    ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
    ✧ . Penned by Abri@_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
    ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
 
Last edited:


A friend? What did they mean? She lifted her paw to her dappled muzzle, rubbing away the wispy substance. It then dawned on her what they must have meant-- of course, a spider. She'd often spotted them around; clinging to bark or their webs strung across the thorns that wrapped around the nursery. Some cats seemed to fear them, meanwhile others - like the group of ShadowClanners that had congregated around her - had a fondness for the eight-legged creatures.

She blinked, her honey eyes now cleared of the webbing that had become strewn across her face, before stretching her neck to glance over her pelt in search of the spider before locating it on her chest and raising a white-dipped foot to transfer the arachnid from her upper body to her paw. Her new acquaintance consisted of several, stripe-y shades of an earthy brown. The size alone was a little intimidating, but no one else seemed too panicked, so she supposed it didn't post a threat.

"A name..." She trailed off, continuing to observe the spider as it appeared to wash its face with its lithe legs, not unlike a cat would. Perhaps they were more alike than it would appear upon first glance? "I've never been good with names. Any suggestions?" She inquired, her sight shifting to the surrounding warriors. "I feel a little bad for destroying its home... but it wasn't on purpose or anything."
u9a4dSL.png

Ln9u34C.png

leafcrackle - she/her - shadowclan - warrior - 12 moons - dilute tortoiseshell with white - penned by koi_no_yokan
 
Sharpshadow doesn't think he'd be much of a warrior if spiders sent him screaming... That being said, he wasn't exactly a fan of them, and he, uh... doesn't think he'd be so okay with wearing them as Leafcrackle seems to be. Sharpshadow angles a frown at the little monster. The other ShadowClanners that gather around her seem intent on keeping it at a friend or... pet, or something. She's sure the other clans already picture them as a bunch of spider-havers already. ( Spider-havers as in, owners, wearers... but worded like that, it sounded like a more horrifying version of fleas, huh... ) They've given up fully on shunning the stereotypes, then. ...Not like the three horsemen of the freakpocalypse have ever given a damn. Poor Leafcrackle.

She's going with it, it seems, so make that four. Sharpshadow has never heard of this "tradition" in her life, but whatever. I feel a little bad for destroying its home, says Leafcrackle. It's literally a spider. " I'm sure it'll forgive you, " dryly, he tells her. At this point it felt weird to not play into this... uh... thing. " You better think of a name. I'm scared of what Ferndance would name it. " Only a halfway joke, honestly.