sunshine on a rainy day - twoleg object

It had been an otherwise quiet walk, with little to note but that of the slowly changing seasons. As the trees changed colour the weather would soon cool, bringing with it early frosts and snows. The otherwise uneventful walk became a little more interesting upon the discovery of a strange, round object nestled in the undergrowth. It might not have drawn Flycatcher's attention, if not for the fact it was bright red and stood out against the natural earthy tones surrounding it.

Although curious about what it was, Flycatcher was mindful to keep a bit of a distance. This object was unknown to him and had a faint scent of twolegs clinging to it. Flycatcher had no idea what it was, let alone whether it would hurt him or not. Raising a paw, Flycatcher gave it a gentle tap, surprising himself when it moved slightly. He would wait a moment to discover that it had moved because of his strike, not of its own volition. When he hit the object again he used a bit more force and it rolled out of the bushes. "Huh," Was all he could say, mystified at the strange round object.

TL:DR - flycatcher found a plastic ball lol

Robinpaw jumps.
Out from nowhere, a rounded colorful object rolls out in front if him. It was entirely foreign to him, and the unknown was something he did not mess with. His spikey fur bristles before he looks to the bushes to find Flycatcher, standing and looking right at him- or at the ball anyways.

The tom-cat forces his fur to lie flat, "You didn't have to roll it right at me." He meows, assuming it was intentional. "I don't want a disgusting twoleg item touching me." He shudders, having a genuine phobia of twolegs. Most cats hated twolegs because they rip cats away from their homes, do unpredictable things... but Robinpaw just felt they were plain disgusting with their weird paws, weird faces... weird skin, weird fur... How a cat could live with one baffled him.

He takes numerous steps back from the ball while talking, scrunching his nose in aversion.


Red. Only in blood and flowers was that colour so stark; funny how contrastive those things were. This thing, though... this could not contrast, for it was neither. Round, perfectly- as the full moon itself, as if a blood-soaked sun had tumbled from the sky. Scrappy seemed... disturbed by it, as if it were truly smoked in viscera. His patchy face wrinkled in distaste, and for a moment Berryheart regarded him with the subtlest light of humour in his imbalanced eyes. Then, his attention flickered to Blue- perplexed was the best descriptor he could find, reviewing this inanimate intruder with great confusion upon his features.

Intrigued unequivocally now, Berryheart allowed himself a few long moments to study the find- and it truly was perfectly, impossibly round. Almost beautiful in its complete neatness, yet disturbing in the same way- as if it had never once been touched, eroded not even slightly by the plights of nature. "Fascinating," he hummed at last, a baritone buried beneath his breath, a wisp in the still forest air. What could be the purpose of something like this- so utterly, completely unintelligible? There was no cushioning, no scent, no sign of life... mystifying were the bounties that this forest continually brought to him. It always ensured he had a new challenge.

Following the ball out of the bushes, Flycatcher comes across Robinpaw and Berrythroat. Much like himself, Berryheart seems intrigued by the object. Robinpaw on the otherhand is decidedly less pleased to see it. In fact, Robinpaw even seems to think that Flycatcher rolled it out to him on purpose. "Sorry, Robinpaw, I didn't mean to make you jump," Flycatcher apologised to the younger tom. "I wasn't expecting it would move so much when I hit it a second time." He admitted with a chuckle.

His green gaze would eventually shift back to the object, which now sat completely still nearby, having come to a complete stop after giving Robinpaw a fright. "What do you think it's for?" Flycatcher asked his companions.

Flycatcher apologizes, the only response the younger tom gives is an acknowledgement with a twitch of his whiskers. Hadn't been expecting it to move so much? It was a twoleg item, surely that was enough to know it'd be unpredictable? But again he doesn't open his maw, he knows better and he has respect for his warriors.

Fascinating. He can't believe the word he hears come out of Berryheart's mouth, how was this fascinating in the slightest? It was gross, and Robinpaw despised it. He hopes they don't plan on keeping it around... and if they do? Hopefully they keep it far, far away from him, and he hopes they don't give it to the children. The last thing he needed was for those buggers to make the twoleg item roll after him.

"Who knows." Robinpaw shrugs, unhelpful, unimaginative, "I don't know what twolegs use most of their trash for..." He's seen plenty of different objects from them by the thunderpath, and it was true a majority of the time he didn't have the faintest clue.

Emberstar shared Berrynose's sentiment. With round eyes she watched the little ball as the others discussed it. It looked so weird. Like nothing else she had ever seen. Slowly, carefully, she put a paw atop the thing. Her eyes went even wider.

"It feels... weird!" she remarked loudly. Moving her paw back and forth, she rolled the ball under it around. It really was a strange sensation. Looking at it move back and forth though, some part of her mind thought of the mossballs the kits in camp played with. A sly smile crept across her maw.

With a quick bat, she sent it rolling swiftly back toward Flycatcher. "Heads up!" she cried out playfully.

Ears swivelled to attention barely acknowledged the depth of the noise, and Scrappy's genius theory... what it was for, who could tell. Twolegs had never been his area of expertise, and he did not particularly intend to bother himself with them. As much as he desired to know all there was, some knowledge was simply irrelevant until the question of it ever dared to arise. Such was the case with this thing, entirely unknown to them now and likely never to be seen again past today. How strange that the world offered these temporary opportunities; to think, if he had not been taking a walk.

There it went, sailing back toward Blue. "It's more efficient than a moss ball," he noted, brows furrowed in continued contemplation. Scrappy's fur still bristled at being even in its vicinity, though Sparky seemed fairly fearless- not that such a demeanour was unusual for her. Perhaps that was its purpose- simply to be rolled, as a ball of moss would be. Peculiar that Twolegs should craft something for such a trivial purpose, though. Such effort wasted on an object with much, much easier crafting methods.