ship in a bottle | two-leg boat

[SMOKESTAR]

Smokethroat had seen these before, once or twice but often times they accompanied two-legs and were filled with the bastards as they drifted lazily along the river. Now. Now it was in their camp or at least perched haphazardly onto the side of it in the river, caught upon the uneven stones jutting from the water. There was a name for this contraption but he could not for the life of him recall what it was call, just that it floated and could hold quite a lot of weight. That it could be controlled to a degree so you were not left to the river's mercy, a fact he found appalling in its own way.
The river was untameable, yet here sat a structure that had tried to do so. It was borderline blapshemous.
The dark tom approached cautiously, steps light and head down and a hesitant sniff was given near the side of it where it continued to bob carelessly in place; whatever two-leg stench once clung to this abomination was long gone. It had been abandoned and then swept away in the rising water from wherever it had been. A rare surge of curiousity struck him then, once he was assurred it was not a trap or ambush, and the warrior sprang upward with a powerful leap to perch himself on the wooden edge of the withered boat.
Boat. That's right. It was some, floating thing called a boat. It's purpose and why it existed was beyond his rational, perhaps two-legs couldn't swim and needed it to even try facing the river. Pathetic, actually.
The dark tom leapt down, the boat teetering slightly under his paws from the movement but remained carefully lodged into place on the shore, his head dropped down to poke about the contents though slim as they were. Some strange two-leg vines, the same ones Iciclepaw had once been tangled in, what looked to be a long stick entwined with webbing, some kind of strange clam-shaped apparatus with tiny pieces of glinting objects inside of it and a two-legs foot.
Smokethroat jumped back in alarm once his single eye had landed on the object and his mind realized what it was; his head bumping onto the flat bridge that cut through the center of the vessel and nearly making him see stars from the force of it. With a groan he settled back on his haunches to rub the back of his head and shake it in dismay.

There was a two-leg somewhere missing a limb. (A boot.)

​

 

[RAVENSONG]

"Hello, Smokethroat." Ravenpaw's scratchy, high pitched voice rang out from behind the lead warrior. He would not comment on the amusing but embarrassing bump the older cat had taken. He did not want to get his ears clawed off today—they were cold enough from the frost-bitten wind.

The apprentice was balancing on the edge of the boat, craning his neck to try to see inside. It was undoubtedly twoleg, nobody else could make such strange structures out of materials Ravenpaw had never seen. He did not want to admit it, but the thought of twolegs made him giddy and happy. The kittypet had not been shaken out of him. "What did you find?" He tilted his head to the side at a ridiculous angle. "Something exciting it seemed." ​

 

[FERNGILL]

Fernpaw, too, made no comment on Smokethroat smacking his skull- only a small, leaping exclamation of "Oh!" as it happened, the incident pulling him over like a fish in a net. Interest sparkled in his bug-eyes as always, but not at the boat itself- no, if he craned his neck just-about-enough he could see what lay within it. Something that glided in the frigid sunlight, pale but there- something shiny. In treasure-scarce months such as these, when something finally piqued his interest it was glorious. Grin glowing upon pale ginger features, the small apprentice had faith in his leap as he scrabbled up the side of the boat.

Faith was scarcely ever enough. He fell the first time, unable to climb upon it- but the second attempt had him hauling himself over the edge, falling into the body of the boat in quite a display. Rather a vast departure from Ravenpaw's tightrope walk. Leaping to his feat, he closed in a little toward the object- the paw of a Twoleg, detached!

Fumbled, a yelp skittered through his lips, harsh as it made ungraceful exit from his maw. His brave step forward was immediately retracted. "Eww!" Harsh exclamation, he bothered not to hold his tongue. It was horrible- what had hunted the twoleg, and left a bit?​

( penned by pin )​

 

[iciclefang]

Iciclepaw follows her mentor along the shoreline, long legs gracefully avoiding the high tide of gushing, icy river water. She's seen the boats before, too, in the distance, but this close, she's impressed with its size and the solid material its made of. Smokethroat scrabbles up inside it, and Ravenpaw and Fernpaw follow -- Ravenpaw neatly, Fernpaw in a clumsy, ungainly mess of tangled limbs.

The tortoiseshell makes a graceful leap, watching with amusement as Smokethroat smacks his head so hard he seems to be in another world. "You can't afford to hit it any harder than that, you know," she says primly, but her expression changes to shock as she sees what the rest of them do.

A Twoleg's paw! Severed! Though her expression contorts, she does not recoil -- instead, the patched fur along her spine spikes. "What in the name of StarClan?" She hisses, composure minimized. "What could've done that to a Twoleg?" She's not heard of a bigger or more threatening predator than one of those cursed hairless beasts, setting their traps and lighting their fires. Even dogs were their companions, their slaves.

She's left staring at the amputated paw, mortified gaze fixated.
​

 

[ashpaw!]

Ashpaw stands unsteadily, wavering on two back paws, before planting her front paws on the boat's........... flank. That's what it must be. She should be scared, maybe, but doesn't know to be; she's never seen one of these before, unlike her clanmates, and there's no scent to clue her in. So she follows Ravenpaw and Fernpaw's leads, curiosity driving her to explore..

"What is it," she says, green eyes wide. She has gotten no information from sniffing it — she turns toward her clanmates, and oh StarClan, they're getting inside it. Swallowing nervously, Ashpaw follows, one big hop —

Oh, it's even weirder inside.

She giggles at Smokethroat's bump and then Iciclepaw's comment, but the air leaves her in a rush when she sees the Twoleg foot.

"What could have done that to a twoleg?"

Ashpaw shuffles in closer to Iciclepaw (and tries not to scream when she realizes their fur is touching!!!!!!!!!!) and whispers, "I bet Smokethroat could have."

​

—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• ooc text goes here
  
  
• - 6 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - "speech"
• - disclosed being physically and psychologically abused by Spiderfall, who was exiled & who then killed her best friend
  
  - temporarily apprenticed to npc pebbleskip due to willowroot moving into the nursery
  

​

 

[FISHFACE]

As a swarm of clanmates takes shape along the fringe of camp, it is only natural for Fishface to conduct an investigation. Slinking across the island on those lanky legs of his, the tom soon gets an eyeful of what's causing the curiosity. A beast of sorts, with a mouth concave-shaped and massive. It does not live, but it moves. Wobble-wobble it went, like a kit learning to walk. Such a silly creature.

He watches on as apprentices leap one-by-one into the monster's maw, following in Smokethroat's stead. It causes him some alarm for a moment, though it at once becomes clear that this thing is asleep. Asleep, or simply waiting for the perfect moment to snap its convex jaws shut and swallow the whole lot of them. He shudders at the thought of it.

As dangerous as these circumstances may be, all of them looked like they were having a lot of fun in the monster's mouth. This is excluding Ravenpaw, who sat outside—maybe he'd have a lot more fun if he were inside. Fishface ponders on that for a moment, before deciding he'd rather join in on the merriment than stay stuck ashore with the sad little boy.

Giving his butt a wiggle, the tabby breaks off into a sprint. To bridge the gap between the coast and the creature's mouth, he would leap awkwardly, all four legs outstretched downwards. He is so relieved when he lands on solid ground and is not swallowed whole. The impact of his landing makes the thing move a little bit, yet he does not worry too much about it.

"This monster probably ate the twoleg," he asserts, glancing to Iciclepaw. "We're in the mouth of it right now. Sometimes, twolegs sit in the mouth to go across the river. This monster must have gotten angry, and swallowed the twoleg whole!" Olive hues become affixed to the discarded paw, which had no ligaments or tendons jutting out from its top. A clear bite from a ferocious beast. "If we're not careful," he continues, "we might be next."​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

A paw rubbed the top of his head as he sat back, shooting Ravenpaw a look with the apprentice's knowing greeting but said nothing as the younger black tom had also held his tongue. As he sat back up proper and shook himself to flatten his fur once more, he heard the shrill voices and thumping of wood as more apprentices, (his own earning herself a sharp look for that joke) gathered to also investigate the scene, and then the pale spotted form of Fishface arrived making some wild decree that earned him a huff of annoyance.
"Fishface, don't go telling them those elder tales. This is not a living beast. It doesn't breath." Monsters when they roared along the thunderpath left clouds of white smoke behind them, indicating exhaled breath-this thing had no such telltale sign of life but if it did then it didn't any longer; it was certainly dead. Whether it hadn't always been or not was of no interest to him.
What did interest him was this two-leg limb that seemed hollowed out as he peered at it from this angle and with a mischievous smile he finally realized it was something akin to a shed skin from a snake rather than an actual body part it seemed; the upwalkers were certainly some kind of mystery and with a rare display of playfulness he sprang forward to sink his teeth into the outer edge of the black foot and sling it upward into the air where it would land closer to the gathered young cats whispering in hushed tones and questioning its existence as a delightful surprise.
He would almost feel bad for it if he was not already chuckling, though poor Fernpaw had made such an effort to get up here only to be met with such a startling display.
​