SING FOR ME I'LL SING ALONG | rta, good mood

[MOMOWHISKER]

"A dooo de dooo, de blaaaaaah," Walking through camp with a spring in their step, Momowhisker found the warmth of newleaf to bring a fresh vigour after a seemingly endless winter. Their muzzle was free from the prey they usually carried, in part, the oriental's singing may have had something to do with the awkwardness of being unable to feed his home. Though leafbare temperatures were over, leafbare luck had yet to leave the point, and likely wouldn't until he could get back into the swing of things. It was always trickier to escape the nest when snow pinned their doors shut after all, and his Twolegs seemed less keen to leave windows open when it made the nest as cold as ice. He was loathed to admit he'd missed a day of three, loathed to admit that he may have been a little rusty, but times were changing. Colour was returning to the earth and the camp, his Twolegs wore less fur than usual - hope, in the face of adversity. Instinct made him waddle towards the fresh-kill pile, and a wince escaped him as he tried to drop empty air onto it. With a shimmy, Momowhisker fled in the other direction.

"Something something...." Twoleg words were gibberish to the Daylight Warrior, he'd only learned the basics: commands, his name, the ever-present 'no' and 'don't lick that'. His Twolegs had used a talking stone to keep them company when it was too cold to leave the house (a miracle he feel would blow the mind of anyone he told) that had shared such birdsong with him. Though the tom's voice was pretty, he struggled to keep to the same tune as the rock. "Your Momo is here~" Was it his name? Or had the rock said something else? A grin stretched across his muzzle, regardless, it seemed to be the most fitting phrase the rock had uttered - his Twolegs had agreed, taking him by the arms and swinging him about as they spoke to him. Pale blue eyes scanned the camp, where he saw a few clanmates watching him from afar. Warmth and shame filled him equally: the attention was nice, the attention was also awful, how sad it was that the two opposites had decided to wrestle at that moment. "I can sing some more if you'd like?" He asked them, wide ears shifting left and right curiously.

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[TIGGERBOUNCE]

"Please do! Singing is so funny. My Twoleg does it sometimes. They sing my name. 'Something something Tiggers something something Tiggers' - and then they'll pick me up and bounce me up and down in their arms. It's a strange ritual, really." Like Momo, Tiggerbounce only really knew a few choice words. Tigger. Tigs. Tiggy. Tiggy-butt. Tigger-boy. Boy-boy. Baby-boy. Baby-butt. Belly-belly-belly-belly (for when they wanted to drum on his tummy), treats, and that was it. But he did like his name-song. speech is in #ffd2d8​

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[Florabreeze]

Singing was common practice with Flora's twolegs. Usually it was when they wanted something, If Flora had been laying on them for too long they would sing an apology before nudging her to move to sit next to them instead. Singing in camp was something that the maine coon didn't expect to hear, she didn't mind that the voice was trying to find it's tune, if anything it was nice to hear a tune at all. Assuming that the cat wanted something due to her association with song she bounced along to take her place next to Tiggerbounce.

“Do you get bounced often?” she asked Tiggerbounce as she chuckled “I'm too big for that but they sing whenever they feed me!” her ears twitched as she gazed at Momo. She had slowly gathered that he probably didn’t want anything but instead was just singing because he wanted to. She grinned at the realisation and gave an enthusiastic nod “please do! I think there should be more singing around here.”​

 

[versacepaw]

✮ Versacepaw has come to feel that there's a certain camaderie between the daylighting members of SkyClan. The trek from home to camp together ( if they wanted to, anyways ) each dawn and dusk, enduring the mild slights from a choice few members of the Clan, and comparing their Twoleg accessories and experiences have become quick habits she shares with her fellow part - timers. As such, when she spots Momowhisker prancing about camp and trilling a tune, Versacepaw bounds over, her own fruitful catch of a plump quail dangling from her jaws—though the dried tears that plaster down the spotted fur on her cheeks had stemmed from that very piece of fresh - kill.

Her Clanmates could laugh all they wanted, but what if that quail had a family? What if it had a bundle of siblings waiting for it to get home like Versacepaw, or a quail - mate and quail - kits like Fantastream? If you asked her, more cats needed to think about these things—but whenever she said that, Asternose cuffed her on the ear and told her to just catch the prey, stars damn it. Today, she's wearing an inescapable gold - and - black pelt over her own pelt—Britney dressed her and her siblings every morning, and these things were harder to wriggle on and off than her necklace—but it luckily hadn't seemed to inhibit her hunt at all, despite her mentor's complaints.

" Hmmf Mmfwhmmf! " she mumbles around the quail, before she gives in and drops it. " My Twoleg listens to weird sounds on this little sun - cube - thing! And on a big lump when she has her Clanmates over to our nest! " Versacepaw mews, barging ungainfully into the conversation. Most of her Twoleg's words were total gibberish—she knew her and her siblings' names and Britney's, obviously, from all her Twoleg - Clanmate - things' yowling, but that was pretty much it. She chirps, " Yeah, sing! Sing! "

" speech "

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[Plaguepaw]

Dark ears twitch and swivel at the sound of singling. While he didn't mind the tune itself he was more so confused that the daylight warriors all seemed to have twolegs that hummed strange words. "Do they do that all the time?" Plaguepaw wondered aloud as he made his way over, forked tail waving once in greeting. Did they not find it strange to be hoisted into the air like kittens to be gently swung about? From what he could recall twolegs were rather tall. It made him envision being lifted by a tiny tree or something.

Turquoise eyes drift towards Versacepaw's odd second pelt with a glint of curiosity. With a polydactyl paw outstretched he aimed to give the gold and black fabric a little tap. "When I was younger my twolegs had something like that too, the sun cube thing I mean. What is this by the way?" He questioned with a tip of his head. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. ​

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ skyclan apprentice / twelve moons old / he/him ┈┈┈┈​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

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Among the other daylight warrior sat the familiar pelt of Johnnyflame. He, too, had been admiring Momowhiskers song from afar, and when the other cat paused upon realizing they had an audience, the lead was quick to offer him a bright, encouraging grin as he nodded alongside Flora and Tigger. "Aye, sing us another, Momo!"

"And twolegs certainly have their own love language, that's for sure." the tom chuckled as he joined in on the topic of twolegs and their odd ways of expressing affection for them. "Does anyone elses act super sorry for like, just having to stand and go about their day? Everytime mine have to kick me off their lap to go do something they spwned like five minutes straight apologizing to me first- like I'm gonna hate them for needing to go eat something." There was fondness in his voice as he spoke, but also a bit of bewilderment. "Sometimes just to mess with them I'll sprawl out on one of 'em just as they're about to stand- their reaction is gold every time."

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[SLATESNARL]

"No thanks. I'm good." Slate rumbles in response to Momowhisker, twitching a shredded ear as he offers the daylight warrior a flat expression. What? He was only answering his question honestly. Not everyone wanted to hear his "singing"; surely Slate could not be the only one.

Not that it would probably matter, anyway. Slate's opinion always seemed to be outnumbered by those of his giddy, happy-go-lucky clanmates — in fact, most of the cats standing around at the moment were daylight warriors as well. The Maine Coon notes this with another flick of his ear, sneering slightly as they share their own experiences with their respective twolegs. Hazy memories of Slate's twolegs prod his brain much to his distaste; the concept of weird sounds sourcing from a box was vaguely familiar to him, though there was only so much he could remember now. Even then, he was not at all keen on reminiscing.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Bella]

The small cream, grey, and white apprentice stretched out in her sunny little spot along the grass. Momo's singing was so cute, like a little bell, which most cats in camp seemed to agree with. Her clanmate's talking about their two-legs song reminds Peachpaw of her own two-legs song. "Dun doo de peachy," she sang to herself, giggling. She wondered how many other Sky Clan cats, like the brown-black Tom, didn't like singing. 'Maybe it's a daylight cat thing' which brought even more giggles to the sunbathing cat. Peachpaw really hoped that Momo would continue, though. "Do you know any songs not from the two-legs ?" She meowed.

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