sensitive topics tell us, o brothers what does not sleep // carrion; pafp

  • Thread starter ► BUNNYPOUNCE.
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► BUNNYPOUNCE.

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♥​♥ RUN RABBIT, RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN ♥♥​
bunnypounce & 25 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler​
It is a strange enough sight to spot the pale figured tunneler above ground durig the day, short though it may be that the sun is awake that evening as it casts reddened rays as it sets, but stranger still is what lies at her paws, just on the outskirts of the thunderpath. The three legged molly balances precariously upon her hind legs, head tipped to the side inquiringly, pinkish-blue gaze widened in awe, rose-tinted nose twitching as the scent all but assaults her senses.

"... what is? hm, hm~? " she asks with a trill, breaking the silence as she speaks to her more slender figured companion. The desacated corpse is hardly recognizable as something once living, so bloated and rotten has it become since it's demise at the paws of the twoleg monster that laid claim to its life. She thinks it isn't feline, too small, too strange... but then again, what does bunny know?

— don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun ♛
  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: please wait for @cygnetstare
    tw/cw: carrion / animal corpse
  • — short and squat albino she-cat with pink-tinged blue eyes and a missing front paw. she seems perpetually smudged with dirt from her time spent beneath the earth, and rarely makes an appearance above ground. bunny speaks in the third person, her voice strangely high-pitched and child-like, and doesn't seem to be the brightest of the bunch.

    — physically medium && mentally easy
    — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    — please attack using [b][color=hotpink]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

♱—— their glassy eyes stare down at the creature curled limp on the ground before them—not a creature, even, simply a mass of worm-eaten flesh and blood long gone sour. cygnetstare's pale nose twitches alongside her companion's, the odor as foul as if not fouler than the disgusting rabbit she'd once uncovered within the tunnels. it smells horrible, it smells of decay, it might make a cat with a weaker stomach gag in an instant—the chimera's mind spins with dark associations, with dark assignments for the scent. it smells like watery marsh graves, it smells like dank and fetid tunnels long gone abandoned, it smells like flesh melting from bones like tallow; it smells of stagnant water, of crow-food, of rot.

the fellow tunneler at her side breaks the vast desert of silence filled only by the buzzing of flies to ask what it is. cygnetstare shrugs, gravelly accent offering an unsatisfactory reply, "couldn't tell ya. damn thing's no more than a pile 'o flesh, now." she pauses, clarifies, "sure as hell don't look like a cat, though." the chimera turns to the side, spots a stick, seizes it in her jaws by its very end. head turned to the side, she prods at the mound of rotting meat with the blessedly long other end of the stick, wondering if this might reveal any information.
┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:
  • ooc: ——
  • 68429653_l9yoWJJD8AifbMf.png
    Click to expand...
  • ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze)
    she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 34 ☾s
    —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan.
    —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim
    —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings
    penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots
  • battle stuff goes here for fights

​
 
"Get any closer to the Thunderpath and you'll be joining them." Criticizing, sharp-witted as per usual, Snakehiss makes a remark toward both the tunnelers. An unamused, half-lidded stare drifts from Bunnypounce and Cygnetstare toward the pile of rotting flesh on the asphalt. He wrinkles his nose, pinning his ears back as the horrible stench of death ran rampant in the air. Good StarClan, was that how the remains of his clanmates would have looked had the clan not buried them? Perhaps less mangled and trampled-looking, at least.​
 

IMG_0990.png

SOOTSTAR ♀​
If the stench of monster wasn’t bad enough, one should be at the thunderpath after the twoleg beasts had successfully hunted. The large creatures killed mercilessly and without thought with their big, round paws.

Monsters never seemed to eat what they killed either, nor did they stop to contemplate what they had done, they continue to race on leaving their victim to rot.

Coincidentally emerging behind the two albino tunnelers, Sootstar’s nose wrinkles. Despite that she casts an acknowledging look to Snakehiss.

”If we waited long enough a ShadowClanner would emerge and take it back to camp as fresh-kill.” She mocks the opposing clan with a sneer.
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It wasn't often that Rattleheart found herself venturing out near the thunderpath, preferring to keep herself far, far away from the vicious beasts that saw fit to hunt there. They paid no attention to what was in front of them or what they crushed beneath their enormous bodies, and the tunneler had heard enough horror stories that she wanted nothing to do with the inherent danger that the path of grey represented. However, checking the borders was an important task no matter what - even when she didn't really expect anyone approaching from that direction. It was because of this that she occasionally dragged herself out to where the thunderpath was, keeping a fair distance between her own small form and it as she made sure everything was clear.

This time though, when she emerged from the tunnels she was hit not only by the smell of her clanmates, but the unpleasant and strong scent of rot. All-consuming rot that burned her lungs and made her cough in disgust as soon as she reached the open air. Rattle was loathe to actually try and find the source, but worried all the same that it could be coming from one of her clanmates. Thankfully that didn't turn out to be the case, although her muzzle was still twisted in revulsion when she saw the thing that everyone seemed so fascinated by. "Ugh... you would think those things would at least have the decency to eat what they kill. Instead we end up with... this." A grotesque pile of meat, something that might once have been considered a living being that had instead been twisted beyond what could be recognized.
​
[ PENNED BY EO ]​
 
"Or the crows, at least," Sedgepaw meows, considerably less high-spirited than he usually is. A paw is pressed over his sensitive nose, unefficiently shielding him from the rotten, moldy stench of...whatever that is, or once was. Viscera has been smeared against the tarmac, a bloody line thinning to nothing a fox-length away from the mangled, slumped form. A raccoon, perhaps. Or an unlucky hare. It bakes under the sun, ruddy fumes bubbling off the asphalt, seeping into the Thunderpath like how the cuts of slate deeper in the territory heat the Sun-Warmed Pool. Sedgepaw's throat twists, and he locks his teeth together, frowning.

He doesn't dare venture too close to the Thunderpath itself, instead eyeing the thing warily from the background with Sootstar and Rattleheart and—perhaps loathe as he is to admit it—Snakehiss. He can't exactly argue with the warrior this time.

Cygnetstare pokes at the fleshy pile with a stick, as unbothered as Bunnypounce is morbidly curious. He guesses that makes sense. Cygnetstare always has that...smell about her. "Should we...do something about it?" he wonders, cringing. Bury it, maybe? He isn't sure if moorland predators might find the smell of death enticing, or as repulsive as they do. Or if more monsters might come to trample the thing more, as they are wont to do.​
 
The strangeness of the Thunderpath monsters never failed to unnerve and confuse Badgermoon. Their impossible size, speed, and strength, their foreign scent and enormous, glowing eyes, and their utter ruthlessness made them feel entirely unlike any other creature in the world. Twolegs' apparent ability to control them only enhanced the upright beasts' power and mystique. One of the most offensive elements of the monsters, in his opinion, was their tendency to slaughter prey with no apparent intention to eat it. He had seen them strike a killing blow with one of their huge black paws and simply race onward, not even pausing to investigate their catch. Sometimes they struck the dead creature again and again, and yet still showed no interest in eating the prey. That meant that, now and again, a scene like this: a rotten heap of mangled meat, unidentifiable as the remnants of a once-living being. Badgermoon chuckled at Sootstar's remark about ShadowClanners before glancing to Sedgepaw. "Let it rot here. Perhaps it'll lure some foxes to the Thunderpath."​
 
Weaselclaw and @HOLLYPAW. are not far behind the other moor runners on patrol. His blue gaze sweeps over the mound of rotting flesh at the Thunderpath’s edge, then to Sootstar. Her remark earns a snort of laughter. “You’ve seen ShadowClan already,” he murmurs to his apprentice. “Perhaps I never told you that they survive off of rats and crowfood, just like that disgusting little pile there, but it’s true.” He sniffs, grimacing at the scent coating his tongue.

Badgermoon suggests they leave it after Sedgepaw asks if the patrol should filthy their paws burying the mass of maggots and worms. Weaselclaw lifts his eyes to the sky. “Surprised there’s no crows here picking at it. Not even fit for them to eat.” He swishes his tail, adding, “For all we know, this could be a ShadowClan cat. Wouldn’t be the first time we found one flattened like this.” He’s obliquely referring to what had remained of Briarstar moons ago.


✧ INFO.
  •  
  • — weasel . weaselclaw
    — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
    — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
    — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Oliver
​
 


☽༺♰༻☾​
"how can they even call themselves warriors," hollypaw wonders aloud with a grimace as she imagines it. no respectable cat ate food that was rotten and mangled beyond repair, nevermind the rats. it was laughable, perhaps she would if the stench wasn't overwhelming her senses so. she could never imagine a moment where she would be hungry enough to even entertain the idea of consuming such prey. the apprentice would pray to starclan for an early demise long before it ever got to that point.
​
 
♥​♥ RUN RABBIT, RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN ♥♥​
bunnypounce & 25 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler​
Bunny is content to watch cygnetstare poke at it, lips curling up into a grin, though it is certainly fleeting as a childish pout replaces it. Her foreleg smacks the ground with an annoyed thump, tantrum like, as she never gets her answer as to what it is - or was, she thinks. Instead strange eyes land upon their leader, and she nods emphatically as a different conversation starts up. It's certainly strange, she thinks, that anyone could see such a sight and decide to eat it, but perhaps shadowclan cats aren't very smart. Or perhaps their mothers had simply not been good, and not told them that such things were not for eating. She voices her thoughts, head tipping to the side - "Maybe they is like kits and is not knowing better, that you is shouldn't be eating the rotten-things," not that it matters much to her - if they want to get sick and join starclan sooner than the rest, well, then all the more prey for the other clans. Right?

— don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun ♛
  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • — short and squat albino she-cat with pink-tinged blue eyes and a missing front paw. she seems perpetually smudged with dirt from her time spent beneath the earth, and rarely makes an appearance above ground. bunny speaks in the third person, her voice strangely high-pitched and child-like, and doesn't seem to be the brightest of the bunch.

    — physically medium && mentally easy
    — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    — please attack using [b][color=hotpink]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
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