camp thank god for charm school .. awkward moment

[hazecloud]

Open spaces weren't so enjoyable anymore. The safety inside the nursery, the closeness she felt to the rooted walls and caked mud, were much preferable over fields. It was still to be seen if when spring came around that the molly would find herself comfortable among the plains of flowers she often spent her time in before. Hazecloud had never thought herself as someone proud to bare scars, always careful to keep herself out of confrontational combat. She was a woman of stealth, looming presence only ever announced if she made it so.

Unfortunately in those mountains it was barren of much coverage, lacking any real protection from the feathered beast that had taken the beauty in an untouched face. Magpiepaw had a wonderful skill in utilizing such little herb supply in desperate times and she knows she should be more thankful to have not died from infection but, her reflection only answered for her lingering insecurities. She had tried to hide it in different ways but none seemed to work very well. Sap and oak leaves were more messy than helpful, sticking to her fur like burrs. Now that moons had passed the wounds did not feel so large as they originally were, but it was hard to ignore the expose flesh that marred her muzzle.

"You never told us what gave you those scars, Hazecloud! It was on the journey, right? You must've fought off something pretty mighty."

It's in good humor, a lure to pull another story from faraway lands. Complimented with the effort of her fight to get back home. In the moment it felt like nothing but a clawed slap on what she had lost. Jaw tight and teeth grit together, the queen narrowed her eyes in a sideways glance.

"What are you trying to say? What makes it look mighty to you?" Her claws tear off the tail of the fish she and the older kits were given to shield her annoyance, trying to enjoy a meal in the brief moment of sunlight before the temperatures dropped again. Her face couldn't hide it, though, the question had hit deep.

//FINAL PROMPT FOR HAZE feel free to be the cat talking to her!​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Every social interaction is an uphill battle for Snakeblink. He has a skill, he thinks, a talent even: if there is a right thing to say he will, every single time, walk right past it, circle it a few times, and then throw himself body and soul into the worst possible alternative. He cannot help but open his big stupid mouth when it should remain closed, and maggots drop off his tongue instead of honeyed words. Part of him thinks he should embrace it and simply become the petty bully his own mind seems hellbent on being, but his heart is set against it: every accidental barb leaves him smarting with the near-physical pain of shame.

It won’t stop him from trying again, though — that is, if anything, half the problem. At least he has gotten better at noticing the signs of his overstepping by now.

Hazecloud’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaws are one such sign, and he winces at the clear displeasure there. She is already… not his biggest fan, but it seems his paws are unerringly pulled towards his mouth, eager to shove themselves in there whenever he tries to give a compliment.

”Well, they seem quite… deep,” he says slowly, eyes taking in her face again before darting away with a cringe. ”Besides, what else could have left a mark on you but something mighty and fierce?” She had been, before her departure, all but scarless: he had taken it as a demonstration of skill, which he lacks, and cleverness in picking her battles, which many scarred warriors do away with at a young age as they chase glory and pride.

A shrug as he grasps for something to make amend. ”I am no great judge of beauty,” he hazards, ”But I do not think anyone would call me a fool for thinking they make you look quite impressive and… handsome?”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 48 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[shellpaw]

hazecloud doesn’t like to go outside anymore. shellkit understands, sort of — it’s cold beyond the sedge - lined walls, and sometimes cats were mean, or worse. she hadn’t stopped thinking about uncle smokestar, his body bent and bleeding maroon into the snow. she thinks of lichentail’s fur, tinged like pomegranate, tinged like nothing she’d ever seen, almost nightly. sometimes not even of her own will ; that trickle of suspicion finding its way into her dreaming moments, plaguing her with nightmares. she knew what it was like to be scared. shellkit didn’t really want to go out after that, either, if she were to ever tell the truth ( she wouldn’t ). takes of the journey were few and far between — as much as she yearned to, mumbles occasional, gentle asks in the night for stories of the mountains, there was a lilt of sadness that kept her from asking again too soon.

she doesn’t mind when he enters, offering only a grateful mrrp for the fish he would drop in front of them. he was a strange presence. the eldest of the lead warriors ( though she would be quick to admit that petalnose was far scarier ), tall and skinny and striped like an adder from all the stories — named like one, too. in all truth, she doesn’t know what was said that could have caused such a reaction. something about mighty, something about handsome. amber eyes drift upwards from pale white - pink meat, the ever - present drip of yuck in her throat leaving her too queasy to take a bite, and moreso interested in why her foster begins to tense next to her. she’d never seen the queen in any way other than she was now, and at first, shellkit does not follow. she traces her eyes from snakeblink’s gaze, all the way to the deep imprints of scar tissue ribboning the mollys form.

and suddenly hazecloud is puffed, agitated in a way that sings offense — in turn, something like anger spurs in the lilac girl’s chest, protective and snarling. a harsh love, an upset love ; she bristles high in the air despite the wind, jutting and thistlelike. she lashes before she hears what he has to say, a solid thump of a stomp against moss to prove her point, ” leave her alone! “ she wails, voice lifting to a raspy break. it’s the air, the thin air, passion tightening her throat. what he says sounds like a compliment, but her brows furrow, looking back towards her foster mother with a glimmer of hardheaded concern at the fringes of her vision before scrunching her nose, throwing her gaze back towards snakeblink. he had a scar — one over his eye, and shellkit was angry. her stubbed tail lashes, ” if you want to — to see something deep, go fall in the river. “ where had she heard that? her brows furrow and despite having only just looked away, she tilts to search the mollys face again, worrysome. no one insulted her.. well, hazecloud was her..

the word escapes the kit’s mind, and for once, it leaves her silently reeling.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i.
  
  
• 
  
  
• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. TWO MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

​

 

[bubbleburst]

"GOT A LITTLE CASH NOW SO THAT SKIRT IS DIOR"​

Bubblepaw often matches her clanmates' enthusiasm for tales of bravery and treachery from the journey. Any chance to hear another story is jumped on by the enthused apprentice. However, her mother had taught her from a young age that while curiosity is okay, there are a few things that are better left untouched in conversation. Among those things are scars.

She's visiting the nursery after a trip to the fresh-kill pile, trying to offer some prey to any queens and kits who might need it before she settles into her own late meal, when Hazecloud's snapped words catch her attention. Snakeblink is backpedaling and trying to justify his question as quickly as its been uttered, but the warrior is already puffed up with anger. She thinks better of trying to get between them, espeically with Hazecloud already as worked up as she is.

Bubblepaw suppresses a giggle, a humorous paw pressed to her maw, as Shellkit all but tells Snakeblink to go drown. "It's okay, Shellkit," she tries to soothe the kit, attempting to keep any semblance of amusement from coating her words. "It isn't very nice to tell people to go fall in the river," she adds in a more serious voice, though her mouth is still quirked upward a bit "Even if they can swim very well!"

​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[DUCKPAW]

duckkit had been asleep when the gentle lull of conversation had taken an abrupt turn to vicous offense. the backdrop of conversation was something akin to white noise; between that and the gentle slurping of the river as it sucked at the pebbley bank right behind the nursery, she had grown accustomed to her audible surroundings, and anything that strayed from quiet small talk was enough to draw her from a deep sleep.

duckkit startled awake as hazecloud raised her voice. she tossed groggy olive green eyes between snakeblink and hazecloud, visually digesting the scene emerging before her. hazecloud seemed tense as she snapped off the tail end of a fish, and snakeblink looked awkward. she wasn't usually one to engage in eaves-dropping, but as a resident of the nursery whose parents kept her on a short-leash, it was hard to avoid as she couldn't physically escape lest she get told-off for daring to set paws in the sunshine. she cringed internally at snakebite's attempts to save face when he had realized his error. "...handsome?" duckkit repeated in quiet shock, not realizing this internal thought had just been aired to all parties of this conversation. she personally thought scars were cool..most of the warriors who had come back from fights wore them with pride, so she too percieved them as something to be proud of.​

 

[hazecloud]

Every agonizing sentence that continued to stumble from Snakeblink's mouth like a newborn foal sent made Hazecloud blink in utter, ghastly indignancy. Something must possess the Lead to somehow always bowl muzzle first into saying the most blood-curdling thing possible. Or maybe it was intentional! Did he enjoy looking like a fool and face the rage of his Clanmates for not knowing when to simply keep his jaws shut? At least that had been an art Hazecloud mastered early, if only she felt compassionate enough to teach him the same.

"I know what they look like." The misty queen answered flatly. Perhaps it hadn't been obvious how she readily retold practically every moment between Fourtrees and the mountains except her attack from the eagle. Or, it simply wasn't clear enough for the skeletal tabby specifically. For how observant he claimed to be he truly needed so many things spelled out to him.

"Handsome." She echoed, half in disbelief and she's confused why at this point, Snakeblink hasn't just left her and accepted defeat that he horrendously blew the moment of redemption. She would actually prefer to face his tail watching him flee than his adder-shaped muzzle. Just as she was open to continue her own retort that may have been poorly suited to say in the nursery she is reminded of it when Shellkit all but squalls before her. Right, she was de-scaling a fish for them and in all her seething she had forgotten.

"If you want to-to see something deep, go fall in the river." Had Shellkit the ability to read minds and never told her?

The reminder is what would calm her nerves as her fur began to lie flat again. A paw delicately reached out for Shellkit, a wordless request to come back to her side. "It's alright, Snakeblink was only..." How could she phrase this in a way that was appropriate? Snakeblink was a lead warrior, part of her uncles council. "Being silly. I'm just not in a silly mood right now." Better than nothing, she could have said he was being a minnow-brained, unlicked kit. But she kept those thoughts to herself.

"To answer your question- it was an eagle." She glanced down between Shellkit and Bubblepaw, a small shine to her eyes as she began to paint the story ahead. "We were beginning to climb down from the mountain after finally finding the lungwort StarClan sent us for. The stone and snow began was just beginning to turn into tall pines and bushes here and there. For the most part, though, all you could see snow and clouds." She tore off sections of the fish to share between Shellkit and Bubblepaw.

"I was trying to hunt a mouse which is a lot harder than it looks when you're used to fishing. We were pretty desperate for anything we could get our paws on, and I was so so focused I didn't notice the eagle circling ahead. It swooped down and before I knew it, I was grabbed by it's talons and lifted off the ground. But I put up a good fight and it ended up dropping me a few fox-lengths away. My friend Batwing helped scare it off so it wouldn't try again while Ferngill and Iciclefang led me to cover."

A grand retelling she would hope would not be requested again any time soon. Her listeners would have to rely on their own memory for now. ​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

The shrill voice of a displeased kit has Snakeblink’s ears flicking back, contrite — young ones tend to lack the discretion of older cats but more than make up for it in candor, and it’s something he can begrudgingly appreciate, what with his tendency to forge ahead without ever noticing quelling looks and warning tones.

”I meant no offense,” he murmurs to the kit, lips pulled into a grimace. Bubblepaw’s intervention is appreciated: bad as he may be with adults, his ability to deal with kits is even worse.
He shudders at Hazecloud’s descriptions of the events that earned her this badge of honor on her face. Snakeblink was home safe at the time; as safe as one could be in times of plague; safer than he would have been in her place, helpless between the claws of an eagle. Stars know he would not have had a friend to save him, the way she did Batwing. He is glad she was brought home safe and sound. Wishes, fiercely, that there had been something for him to do at the time — or, failing that, that he could have held his tongue today.

”Thank you,” he says a little nonsensically, eyes darting away from the scars that earned her his unwanted curiosity. He ought to apologize, but doesn’t know how — the more words he utter, the worse off he is. ”I shall refrain from bringing you bird prey in the future, yes?”

Ears burning, he makes his escape on these unfortunate words before she can give in to the urge to slap him in front of her kits — the queens already dislike him enough as it is without his presence being seen as a bad influence.
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• out! the silly got out-sillied
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 49 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​