private stop staring at the ceiling fan ——.𖥔 batchaser

[Wormwatcher]

The moon is only a crescent as if a mighty feline ripped a scratch through the black-blue night sky. Wormwatcher tilts his head back to stare up at it, squinting to see it clearer through the sparse canopy above him. It wasn't by choice he watches the moon and stars, instead he simply could not sleep. It is better for him to sort through his thoughts outside of the den than inside, where it is far too claustrophobic for him to think clearly. Just by chance he found Batchaser outside of the warriors' den too. The laid-back tom wasn't the worst company and Wormwatcher was glad it was him he could sit in silence with after Wormwatcher asked if it would be alright to sit beside him. He brings his angular head down and huffs, condensation bellowing from his maw. In the darkness of night his pale eyes are uncharacteristically bright, they shift from the moon to Batshaser. "Remind me, when the moon's sliver is getting smaller is it waning or waxing?" The chimera knows Batchaser will know the answer, the black smoke's gaze seems to be directed upwards to the night sky often.

One of Wormwatcher's black forepaws flex in the thin layer of snow which coats the clearing, the sight of which causes him to clack his tongue and shake his head. "How can one like the snow? I haven't stopped being cold, not once," he grumbles, shaking his head several times in exaggerated irritation. He normally would not waste his breath discussing such arbitrary topics like the weather but he feels inclined to now, as he silently wishes that Batchaser won't decide to leave him soon. He has been so closed off he'd forgotten how nice it is just to be in conversation or be next to another other.

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something lost and never seen ⋆⁺₊.𖥔 ݁☾⋆⁺𖥔₊.⋆ ──.✦ SOMETHING TAKES A PART OF ME

• 
  @BATCHASER
•  
• 
  WORMWATCHER
  —— a tall, slender and angular 50% oriental shorthair black/blue chimera with low white with pale blue eyes.
  —— shadowclan warrior
  —— he/him ⋆ homosexual (closeted)
  —— 31 moons ⋆ ages every 10th

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[BATCHASER]

Having been slipped free from the gloomy, clustered filled the warrior's den, the long - limbed phantom lets out a sigh. Tilting his head up towards the stretching deep purple and dark blue sky above, hidden eyes peer through the twisting canopy. Floating ever so peacefully in the night sky was the moon, the once full goddess is only but a crescent. Like someone had raked their filthy claws across the patterned surface. The moons servants– the stars twinkling ever so dully.

He is cold. Hungry... His spine is curled where he sits outside of the warrior's den. Batchaser is haunched over to peer down at the powered frost digging it's horrible chill underneath his raw pawpads. A curl pulls upon his lips, ivory teeth clunching together to not actively click clack amongst the quietness of camp. Mismatched eyes, half - lidded in a tired position drift away from his pale - splashed paws, to look at the flakes of snow layered upon Shadowclan's camp like a winter wonderland. Lost in his thoughts, an ear twitches at the sound of approaching pawsteps. The fur along his spine rises, his dark - split head pivots to the side to spot the chimera pelt of Wormwatcher. It was a surprise... the black smoke hasn't interacted much with the other feline. He dips his head in an silent acceptance, he will enjoy the companionship with a clanmate.

When the chimera asks the night - drifting phantom a question. A charming smile graces his maw, letting his angular head point skywards towards the moon. "Mm, perhaps it is the waning moon. Yes?" A dramatic sigh leaves him. "...A tragedy truly." Comes a whispering-smooth tone. He is quite the unchained creature with a strange obsession for the moon. An ache of hunger clenches his insides making his muzzle wrinkle upon his stomachs thirst for food. He hums, head tilting towards Wormwatcher's complaint of snow and it's wretched coldness. Shaking of lean shoulders, and a twitch of his whip-like tail at his clanmates grumbling complaints. He speaks once again. "Yes, it has been... cold for days now. It's brought... discomfort to me, with the short fur and all. Disgusting chill." He snorts at the snow upon his paws, lifting one up to shake the powered frost away from him. Bony haunches twitch where they are settled, where his curled fringe hides his narrowed eyes. The black smoke turns his head to Wormwatcher

"I wonder..." He trails off, staring at his fellow warrior with a tilt of his head. Large dark ears angle forward, listening to the soft chitters of insects in the background. Would it be too awkward to ask his clanmate if he could share bodyheat? ...Perhaps. A bite of a bitter wind, makes his whole lanky figure shiver slightly. Ears angle back towards his dark skull. Oh, how he hates Leafbare and it's wretched entirety.

𓂃 𝅄᠂ ⭒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ☽ 𝙃𝙄𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙉 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙋 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙎

•  

• temp batchaser ref.

  

• ( WHAT ELSE ARE UNKINDLED ASHES GOOD FOR? ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ― CISMALE ; HE / HIM ; CURRENTLY 38 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking — mentoring none.
  ✦ a tall shorthaired curly black smoke bicolor with gold/green heterochromia.
  ✦ thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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