SUBURBAN WAR \ worked up

[EDMUND]

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."​

 

[BLOODY MARY]

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.

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