SUBURBAN WAR \ worked up

[EDMUNDSONG]

It was an accident. Really was, but he didn't s'pose the fates really cared whether you meant to do it or not. His path was pattered softly, as ever- silken steps that often led him to prizes. A talent for hunting on the groud, they'd found within themself- skulking with head bowed low. And Edmund really had never considered himself much of a skulker. Never considered himself much of anything at all, really, other than... good. Good cat. But he didn't feel like a good cat now, not at all, not with ... a crunch beneath a clumsy paw and the flare of odd eyes with shock. Don't let it be ...

In the winter, should they even be out? Buzzing around - it was like this one came out specifically to bring him luck, one way or another. Bane or boon.

Under their paw was smeared the pressed corpse of a ladybug.

Edmund's face crumpled into one of horror, the hunt he had been embarking on- mildly successful, there was a mouse buried a few fox-lengths back for later- imediately squandered. "No, no, no no no no..." chuffed under his breath, reaching wobbling crescendo. What was he s'posed to do with the... the little body? "Sorry, sorry ..." And it... she?... was still pressed up against his paw, sadly and undeniably dead.

He could already feel the bad luck seeping through him, creeping right up into his brain. Oh, there had to be some way to fix this! Or- or dampen it a bit, maybe ... "I'll give you a nice burial." Worried-thin promise to no-one in particular.​

penned by pin ❤​

 

[Chickbloom]

Still rattled by Oakrumble's vigil, the usually adept hunter had been blundering his way through the forest today, too worried imagining whatever got the old she-cat was stalking him through the woods. "It's like those rogues a few moons ago" Chickbloom thought with a frown, wondering if Skyclan would ever know a moment's peace.

To cats like him and Edmund, however, peace was an impossibility. Folded ears flicked up at the sound of a million muttered 'no's, distressed whimper on the wind sending the spineless whelp racing forwards. Was it another body? Was Oakrumble not the mysterious predator's only victim? "It really is like the rogues" The baby bird grimaced, blinking away the tears that threatened to overwhelm dinnerplate eyes.

Blinks of desperation turned to confusion, though, as Chickbloom skidded to a halt to find Edmund very much alone, holding up his paw with a worried look on his face. "Did - did you h-hurt yourself?" It wouldn't explain the apologies, but the boy knew stress made one say sorry for pretty much anything. It was only at the mention of burial that amber eyes narrowed, just able to make out the red goop smeared over his peer's paw.

"Oh," Chickbloom sighed with half-relief and half-sadness, pushing more morbid thoughts from his mind for the moment. "I'm - I'm s-sure you d-didn't - y'know - the - the ladybug understands." The warrior stammered, wondering if it would be appropriate to put his tail over the other's flank. Deciding against it, the Scottish Fold began shifting the snow. "A burial is a - a good i-idea. I'll - I can help, if you w-want."​

 

[BLOODBIRD]

Her friend's a real weird one... They worried too much, if you asked her. Yeah, they were real lucky to have her. Somethin' she was known for is uh, being real soothing... Unlike the little mousey padding alongside them, she doesn't assume nothin' bad when they warble. As ever, her ears are animated... Molded eyes keep their wideness; her smile's steadfast. She could hardly even see what they were fussin' over. A ladybug? Eh? Didn't Edmund snap some neck just a moment ago?

Real stupid, the both of 'em. She's not opposed to makin' friends with stupid, nah. The ladybug understands, comes the chirp. She snorts, " Ladybug's dead, birdie. " It peters off into a chuckle, dark and dry. Didn't they have twins jostling round in their sockets? Not the identical sort for Edmund, obviously. " No reason for her to understand what's behind her, now... " Yeah, her next self was somethin' cooler than this, insignificant era outlived... She was still red up there, maybe; or maybe she was some color they couldn't ever dream of seein'...

She crawls closer still. It's reassuring, surely, the flick of her half tail vaguely aimed in Edmund's direction. She'd hit somethin' of his, probably. A snicker passes through oversized fangs. " Don't worry yer pretty little head. Lady wouldn't've cared if I'd snapped yer neck moments before, hehe. " Her pale neck cranes to give her front row seats to the corpse. She snorts. " You look good in red though, guy. " A ladybug burial sounds like one of the most pointless things of all time; not that she minds any.

THEY SAY I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM TRYING ⬪ 𝒜 𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒩 𝒮𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯 / ( 12 . 05 )

• OOC. Oblig shadow tag @DOEBLAZE

• 
  BLOODY MARY ⬪ DAYLIGHT APPRENTICE. SHE - HER - HERS.
  

  A dog-like woman. Large, with bulk in some places, and only lean muscle in others. Elegant at some angles, acutely strange looking at others. Has a longer, wolfish muzzle and gleaming dog teeth near-always on display due to an overbite. Skull presses insistent against her skin. Eyes are almost too - large, and not all sunken in her skull. Has large, tufted ears. Polydactyl, with a curved spine and recently-chopped tail.

​

 

[EDMUNDSONG]

Chickbloom seemed to answer his own question, saving a little bit of time... and staving the worry he'd break a dam, distress warbling in his breath. The ladybug understands, he said, and Edmund looked at him incredulously. No, no- wasn't about the thing itself. Its spirit knew nothing of the fortune it was bound to, probably... it was only a little spot of red, after all. Relentless Snowstorm ... she'd called herself something like that, this morning... came barking forward, and for once he found himself in passionate agreement with her, nodding his head. "It's- yeah, it's not about the... ladybug, its about- everything that saw me kill it! Haven't you heard? Bad luck for... blimey, something like seven moons..." he grimaced. Yes, something like it....

He felt the thump of his friend's tail... thing, against his side, and let out an oof at the impact, even though it didn't really hurt. Was always a surprise, the rough and tumble out here, but ... he could hardly blame it on the forest, when they were from the same place. The beat of his heart, of the war between acceptance of misfortune or finding a fighting chance to mend it, stopped him from fully appreciating Chickbloom's attempt at reassurance. Something about snapping necks did very little to soothe him, and he looked at his, uh, friend (though this wasn't much like what he'd learned about friendship) with an incredulous stare. Was this the beginning of his bad luck, getting ... thrown, or something, by someone who he liked?

You look good she said. Edmund's nose scrunched up, but they murmured a quiet "Oh, thanks," before clashing eyes widened, his own thoughts interrupting him. "Wait- no, no, that doesn't matter!" They were nearly petulant- but took a breath, as they decided to ground themself. "I'll just live with it, I... I'll give it a little grave, and... then it won't spread. I'll spare you all, at least..." A white paw began scrabbling against the earth, clawing forcefully into the cold ground. ​

penned by pin ❤​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Pointless, she agrees with Mary on that one. A burial for… a bug? Did they even think or feel? Did the ladybug even know its life had come to an end? All they did was appear to aimlessly fly around in the warm moons, they did not spin webs like spiders, what purpose did they even have?

There was too much grief in this world already. Why exhaust yourself by mourning for a ladybug?

Edmund assures that it's not about the ladybug, but luck. She gives him a weird look, luck? It was near a foreign word to her. Luck did not exist, the only thing that mattered is your skill and how StarClan judges you. "I don't think you have to worry. I've killed hundreds of ants, most without even probably knowing." She meows, trying to be understanding and not too judgmental. "I've not buried one of them and I've been fine." …Right? She's been fine, hasn't she?

Good StarClan. This was Chickbloom's 'haunted' fresh kill pile all over again; making her question reality. What was it and these kittypets, full or former, having such strange beliefs? At least Mary didn't have any… that she knew of… good StarClan…

Well, at least it shouldn't take long to bury something smaller than her toe.

͙͘͡★

FIGFEATHER . ㅤBIOGRAPHY / TOYHOU.SE
✦ trans female (she / her) / pansexual, single
✦ 32 moons old / ages realistically, every 22nd of the month
✦ lead warrior of SkyClan
✦ Daisyflight x Raven / sire to Sangriaflight, Coffeesong
✦ mentoring Blizzard / mentored by Tallulahwing
✦ previously mentored Wolfpaw, Daisydrop, Oleanderpaw
✦ penned by ava / message av.a on discord for plots!

Figfeather is a bright yellow she-cat with golden tabby markings that swirl across her body. She has big, amber-orange eyes and angular ears. Prominent jowls dangle from her cheeks, rounding out the shape of her face. Her right hind leg is twisted, wrapped in a large, discolored, bumpy scar.

 

[Fireflyglow]

"If you tell them you are sorry, will they hear you? I wonder.." Fireflyglow speaks up softly, tail flicking behind him as he stops by the group. Would She bear witness to the cruelty of cats whom crushed and plucked Her inhabitants? Does She weep when they spill blood upon Her grassy fur? Did She weep when Dawnglare and Mallowlark's guts were spilt upon her skin? He gets lost in the thoughts for a second, before he turns back to the group.

"It will forgive you. A bug dies, another is created in its place. That is the circle of creation and end." He speaks in an odd tone, sounding all the more like a priest preaching a sermon. He most certainly did take after Dawnglare in some minor ways..​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 29 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​