pafp SNAP WHEN YOU HAVE TO — edible things

[CLAYFUR]

Clayfur often finds things while he’s out on patrols. Plants and interesting rocks and sometimes even twoleg trinkets catch his eye on his trips around the territory, and he enjoys bringing them back afterwards to sort through them in the camp. Today, he’s returned to camp carrying a bundle of leaves alongside his usual small fish.

Some of the leaves look particularly appetizing, but he recalls Beesong’s recent lesson on deadly plants and thinks better of eating them. He deposits the fish onto the prey pile and trots over to the medicine den. "Hi, Beesong," he says, tripping as he steps into the den. He nearly falls flat on his face, but catches himself at the last moment, sheepishly glancing up at the pale brown tabby.

He remembers when they’d first discovered this place, and it’s a bit nostalgic. But for a while Ashpaw and Houndsnarl and Clearsight were all in here, so it’s not all good memories that he’s reminded of. "I brought some stuff for you. Thought your stock might be low now that it’s getting colder." He drops a few leaves at the medicine cat’s paws, hesitant. "I was also wondering if this one is edible?" A white-capped paw gestures toward the greenest-looking leaf, considering how it might taste. He stares at Beesong expectantly, hazel eyes wide.


// pls wait for @BEESONG
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[BEESONG]

Clayfur is not an unusual sight within his den. From bellyaches to barfing, the dull-witted tom always seems to find his way here at least once every quarter-moon. As unfortunate as it is, because Beesong does enjoy Clayfur's company, he has to accept that the chocolate tabby has a shorter lifespan than what is expected of a feline. Blame Clayfur's shit eating habits, but Beesong isn't going to be surprised if, when, he ends up poisoning himself or choking on a rock.

Clayfur stumbles into the hollow, nearly falling flat on his face (earning a snort of amusement from Beesong), with leaves fluttering across the floor. Unlike previous visits, it seems Clayfur has tried to help Beesong instead of hinder them with ailments easily avoidable. Beesong hums. "Appreciate the thought, big guy." They seriously doubt any of the plants are medicinally useful, but it's at least nice of Clayfur to try. It's like Clayfur pointed out; with leafbare on their heels, the herbs are beginning to wither.

Suspicions are confirmed as he begins to nose through the random assortment of leaves. They're mostly useless, however... Some yarrow is mixed in with the weeds. A pleasant surprise for Beesong. The healer separates the useful from the useless, the former much smaller in comparison to the latter. "Thought they were all gonna be nothing more than nest liners, but you keep surprising me," Beesong jokes.

Beesong shouldn't have rolled their eyes when Clayfur asks if the yarrow is edible, because Clayfur thinks everything is edible. But they find their eyes rolling, anyways. "Yep," is their brief response. A part of them is tempted to let Clayfur eat a pawful and figure out the consequences later, but a stronger part of them does not want to clean vomit off of their den's floor. "You won't die if you eat it. You will lose your lunch, though."​

 

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

originally, buck had came to do something no one in her blood was good at. apologizing. since her healing, and sudden freedom, there's been a light guilt following her around for her behavior while stuck in beesong's care. the earthen molly is simply not good with bed rest, not being under a heavy task. she knows that, she is sure beesong knows it by now. they've been kind enough to make sure she doesn't bleed out in camp, and has offered the woman kindness when she hadn't deserved it.

the nervousness that leaves her skin tight and paws unsure slowly fade as she watches the scene before her. clayfur. it's not that she hadn't enjoyed his antics, but at times he seems almost self-destructive. it's worrying. the two smaller figures share the same unspoken sentiment of the tom's early death. "you know we have a perfectly good pile of fish." it's a flat-toned question, eyeing the berry that seems to have clayfur's attention. she truly does not understand it. berries on the occasion are fine, she enjoys them more in the warmer months when her stomach does not know heavily of hunger.

her apology is forgotten completely, and she is slightly thankful for the bumbling clay for delaying the inevitable. she thinks she may be able to dig her own grave before she has to apologize. if she's lucky, of course.
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[CLAYFUR]

Beesong expresses surprise that some of the plants Clay brought for them are actually useful, and the tom straightens up, standing taller than his usual slouch allows. "I’m a surprising guy, what can I say?" He chuckles, grinning at the other tabby. Pride swells in his chest—he’s done something right! But then Beesong confirms that the leaf Clay pointed out is able to be eaten, and Clay cranes his head down to grab it gingerly between his teeth.

The medic continues on, saying that it will make him vomit if he eats it, and he frowns. "Oh… well, which ones can I eat?" He paws through what he’s gathered, hoping to reveal something that the cinnamon medicine cat will approve of him eating. He threw up the other day after eating some kind of flower; he really doesn’t want to go through that all over again.

Buckgait, serious as she is, seems to have even less patience with him than Beesong. If that’s possible. "I know," he says, sheepish, as the she-cat reminds him that there is real food that he could eat. But that's just the thing, isn't it? Real food isn't what he's craving right now. Right now, the green leaves of the random plant he'd picked up are calling him. Beesong's warning gives him the strength to hold back from eating it, but temptation is still there. "Fish is a lot different, though." He shrugs, the only explanation he knows how to give.
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[RAINWHISKER]

The pungent scent of herbs slips into her nose as she nears the medicine cats den, hearing the felines present speak of the herbs Clayfur had brought to Beesong. The tabby was inquiring about which of the plants he had brought back were edible, dismissing the idea of eating actual food with the statement fish is a lot different, though.

Why on earth this guy was so adamant about eating one of the leafy-greens Brook didn't know. The herbs she had eaten during her life time were all bitter, and unless she had to taste one of the foul things she'd stick to meat. "I know leaf-bare is coming... but I hope you don't feel like you have to jump to eating like a rabbit." Brook informs light-heartedly, for this was the only conclusion she could arrive at. ​

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Spoiler: TAGS | 10/18

( casual character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· BROOK, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 23 moons . ages on the first
╰ ‣ riverclan warrior . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former member of the pine group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like fish and river , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue tabby . blue eyes . blind

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
╰ ‣ Observant, reliable, hardworking, overcommitted, humble, takes critique personally
╰ ‣ finds minimal difficulty in relating to others . quick to show mercy, unless her family is at risk of harm
╰ ‣ Doesn't appreciate most proper titles, doesn't feel deserving of them

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC x GRACE, sister to Lightningstone & Stormpaw
╰ ‣ bisexual.
╰ ‣ skilled fighter . average hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

 

[BEESONG]

beesong huffs out quiet laughter, humming a lighthearted approval with clayfur's declaration that he is a surprising guy. that, he is. beesong would even go as far as to say that it is an understatement. but, before the cinnamon tabby could get to that point, clayfur reaches for the stem of the yarrow. the healer tenses, prepared to snatch it from the hungry jaws of the larger. he is not cleaning the guy's vomit a second time this quarter-moon, not if he can help it.

thankfully, their warning stops him short. beesong snorts, rolling the tension from their shoulders. already, clayfur is eyeing the plants again, asking which ones are safe to consume. the healer hums, again, this time a sound of consideration as they shuffle leaves around. until, they pluck a heart-shaped leaf from the pile and nudge it towards clayfur. pickerelweed, if they're remembering correctly. completely useless, medicinal-wise. but perfectly fine for the warrior's endless void of a belly. "knock yourself out, big guy."

buckgait and brook end up finding themselves in the medicine cat's den, both advising clayfur that there is actual food on the fresh-kill pile. beesong shoots them a playful look, realizing a little late that brook wouldn't see it. "hey, don't tell him. there'll be less for us, if he figures that out." clayfur retorts that fish is different, and beesong quirks a brow. "yeah. they taste better, for one." he couldn't understand why clayfur would want to eat plants; most taste similar to bitter bile. but, hell, as long as he steers clear of the poisonous ones and, preferably, the ones that make him regurgitate the contents of his stomach, beesong wouldn't give a shit.​