pafp Table manners, what a drag ⤜ name theories

[shriketalon]

Names held meaning in this clan, Shriketalon had picked up on this pretty quickly. Not that names weren’t of any meaning to them before that, they were pretty certain there was some kind of attachment to Shrike other than the bird itself. That being said, they didn’t really bother questioning it, they were curious for sure but they weren’t really in the mood for some potentially pretentious spiel surrounding honour or something. They were bored today though, a lul in patrols combined with a rather wet and miserable day with these random intervals of showers caused activity to be lacking in general. There was plenty of mud to roll around in now as a result of all that rain but they weren’t particularly interested in pursuing that today. Though it was funny seeing their other clanmates take advantage of the peeking out sunlight and temporary dry refuge of weather to splash around in the wet marsh of camp.

As they perched on the sidelines watching with rapt attention they lifted their head to see who else had decided to avoid this particular activity. Wormwatcher stood out to them at this moment, some look of disdain attached to him like his own personal rain cloud. They thought it was pretty funny, like he had tasted some rather foul prey. In the end that is what calls to them as reasoning to go bother him, trudging through the outskirts of the muddy ground that their clanmates rolled into stand by his side. “Not interested in mud wallowing today?” They find themself asking in an attempt of kindling a conversation, not that they needed much to do it. Always a chatty one, if anything it’s a concern when they can’t think of something to talk about.

The topic of names filters into their mind again, Wormwatcher was one of the stranger ones to them. What parent looks at their kit and decides that worm is actually a really fitting name? They had their theories for it, maybe his tail was particularly thin and spindly upon birth, maybe he wriggled too much for his parents. Maybe uh… Maybe he liked dirt and mud a lot as a kit! “So why did you get named Wormwatcher?” There was curiosity for why he was assigned watcher as well but honestly they just assumed that wasn’t so exciting. “Did you like mud as a kit or anything like that?” They pressed a little further on, keeping the tone light hearted but it was clear that they had the concept in their teeth and were not planning on letting go. “Actually, do you know any stories behind any other names here? I have some theories” they refuse to elaborate, preferring to keep the mystery alive for now.

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  please wait for @Wormwatcher <33
  

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• SHRIKETALON || They/them, Warrior of ShadowClan, 29 moons
  ✧ A long haired black feline with low white spotting and hazel eyes. A small tear marks their right ear.
  ✧ Mentored by Nectarsong | Mentoring N/A
  ✧ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ⭃ underline and tag when attacking.
  ✧ penned by Juice ⭃ Ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Wormwatcher]

✧*:.｡. Wormwatcher enjoyed the dreary weather in comparison to the sweltering heat that causes sweat to stick him like pine sap. The chimera has been keyed up since Chilledstar's death and has been strenuously performing any task he could be assigned, juggling different chores so that his thoughts may be occupied. This was all in an effort to quench that persistent, dull thumping in the back of his mind. In spite of his best efforts, there was nothing more for him to do. Wormwatcher was more the kind for wholly wallowing in thoughts and sits firmly on the outskirts of camp, his striped tail curled around a foreleg. His ears are slanted forwards, in an effort to absorb any conversations in his vicinity but his gaze his fixed outwards upon his rough-housing counterparts diving into the mud.

He wasn't surprised to hear Shriketalon's question as he heard their arrival just moments ago and their familiar scent of petrichor. He directs his frown towards Shriketalon and grumbled, "Just groomed myself." Wormwatcher shuffles his hindquarters to make some space for Shriketalon to sit beside himself, unfurling his tail from his foreleg. He wouldn't mind some conversation to keep his mind from wandering to the inner crevices within his mind.

This sentiment is short lived. Shriketalon of course would not know of Wormwatcher's past, due to their rather recent residency in Shadowclan compared to himself, but Wormwatcher is still taken aback by their invasive query. "Loved mud, really my favorite. As a kit, actually; I would shove my littermate's faces when they pissed me off into mud." Like I should with you. He gives a shallow grin to Shriketalon, his tail flicking in the moist dirt behind himself. Violence would not solve anything and Wormwatcher, reluctantly, could understand Shriketalon's point of view-- it would be a harmless question for a majority of their clanmates'. Wormwatcher did not ask anyone of their namesake and no one ever asked him, likely because of the way he spat out his introduction when he had been rescued all those moons ago. Why not find some fun in this conversation, then? Sure, he didn't really have littermates, and no, he was not named due to liking mud but Shriketalon surely wouldn't be the wiser.​

 

[Kestrelsong]

”I would've assumed he ate a worm or something.” Kestrelsong remarks at hearing the conversation between the two, her long tail flicking behind her. A heterochromatic gaze shifts between Shriketalon and Wormwatcher before she rolls her shoulders. Her mother named her for an obvious reason. It was because she resembled the predators that reigned the skies. Shriketalon continues to bombard Wormwatcher with questions and statements, and it's enough to cause her to blink awkwardly. She clears her throat to get Shrike's attention to stop harassing the poor man with questions, ”Keep it up and you'll make his ears bleed from asking him stuff.”

”Why were you named Shrike, hmm? Ya don't look like one.” Kestrelsong would question in return to remove the heat from Wormwatcher and rebuke the questions back in the same direction. Weren't shrike birds like blue and white, not black and white? Why would their parents name them after a bird that looks nothing like them? It was obvious they didn't have any taste, unlike her mother, Mockingbirdcry. They couldn't comprehend giving their children proper names that suited them and probably thought of the first name off the top of their tongue.
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