the bird & the worm ⸸ migrating birds


They came in a cloud of darkness, shrouding the sun and blocking the sky; a blanket spread and settled over the marshland with the sound of a thousand wings beating a symphony.
"Hello." He chirped upward to the tree cloaked in more feathers than leaves, to the cawing masses overheard of blue sheens and black plumes; rustling in unison like one great avian mass writhing within the branches above. Magpiepaw stood under it, his dark form small and his paws steady and not a carrion bird above took notice of him as they screeched their unholy songs into the wind; cawing and crying of their return. "Welcome back." The apprentice said, head tilted all the way up to expose his white throat, blue-violet eyes shining in delight. His friends were back, they had all mostly gone say for a few stragglers left behind to pick at what the earth had to offer but not the snow had melted and the earth soft and pliant for their beaks to pierce, to dig up worms and whatever bodies had fallen in leafbare and been buried under sleek white. Thankfully, he knew Pitchstar was deeper than they could dig and his effigy would protect him. The birds didn't know, and he wouldn't tell them. His own little guarded secret.

Magpiepaw trilled, clicking his tongue in a rapid click of a noise to mimic the bird cry, his tail stood straight up and trembling as he did so and the crows fell silent in response before screaming back in unison in what he could only determine was a greeting; he smiled, teeth white against his black maw. Good to see you, good to see you once again. Through wire cages he remembered them, circling above, constantly present, in desolute depravity he huddled cramped in horror in the place he was born where cats died as quickly as they were born and each breath labored and longing for release. Seeing them here in ShadowClan, wings spread, free as the birds they were, made him wonder if they guided him here long ago; for it was watching them through wire mesh that brightened his kithood days before the clan, before the forest.
"Earth and worms~" He sang, turning to stomp the ground, "Earth and worms! Dig them up with sharp, sharp beaks! Flap your wings-flap your wings-when dusk comes its time to sing!" The black and white apprentice let out a shrill warble of a sound, a mimicry of bird cry that somehow did not send the flock above him scattering.


[Ooc]
Migration Prompt: Return of birds more heavily to the area.
 



Starlingheart has not yet been alive to see a return of the birds in such big droves. She remembers them leaving, grieving because such a big prey source was flying away before their eyes and there wasn't a thing they could do about it except hope that those who stayed behind would be enough. Anything was good in those days. She hopes they never experience a leaf-bare like this again. Just the thought of having to do it all over, it makes her shudder.

The familiar voice of a black and white cat draws her closer, but when he comes into her sight there is no one with him. Magpiepaw is a strange cat, and she doesn't pretend to understand him, but she enjoyed his company alright. "H-hey Magpiepaw" she chirps in a friendly greeting "Wh-who are y-you talking to?"

 
EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH
maggotpaw | 05 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
Honestly - Magpiepaw only seems to get weirder by the day. Maggotpaw wonders sometimes, why she bothers - she hates most of her clanmates, has no qualms ignoring them or outright avoiding them. But magpiepaw... is entertaining at the least. She's never bored when he's around. And the bugs he's given her help, not that she'll ever admit to being so easily bought. Padding over at the sound of the boys childish voice ringing out, when she realizes there is no one around her gaze instinctively turns upwards. "... it's the birds again," she says to starlingheart, giving the medicine cat a rather blank stare. really - shouldn't the answer be obvious? He'd even said 'wings' and 'beaks' in his weird little rhyme, it's really not that hard to puzzle out.

 
it's the obnoxious squawking and cawing of crows that draws geckoscreech to the scene, ears laying slightly downwards as if it would help lessen the ear-piercing noise they produced. a miffed aquamarine gaze would scan the overhanging branches where a massive flock can be seen making themselves comfortable, flapping ebony wings and clacking beaks as if rejoicing. magpiepaw, a peculiar child from the newest batch of apprentices, is quick to steal the spotlight with his warbling vocals producing a song for the birds who seem to respond in varying caws. good to know shadowclan is keeping up with it's tradition of having the kookiest cats known to starclan.

that or maybe she's getting too old to understand how these kids work anymore.

"won't be long till we see him throwing himself off the branches trying to learn how to fly." geckoscreech scoffs, just how deep did magpiepaw's obsession with birds go?
THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.
 

His stomping ceased, blue-violet gaze lighting up with delight at the sight of Starlingheart and he wandered over with his uneven and jerky steps to come to a stop before the medicine cat, "The bir-" Maggotpaw materialized alongside the healer, or perhaps she had been there the entire time and he only now noticed, either way she answers for him and he nods in enthusiastic affirmation. "They've come back." Magpiepaw says, tone lightly joyous and he turns to gaze upward at the flock of shadows preening above; their screeching tones reminiscent of dying screams, a symphony.
"They say it is no longer cold, they will stay now. Until the cold returns again." It was highly unlikely the birds told them that themselves, more likely the young tom heard some warriors discussing the way avians tended to leave during leafbare and return later and it settled into his mind as loose information to be appended anywhere he liked.

Wide eyes honed in on Geckoscreech at her remark, unblinking, staring, the rosette she-cat's dismissiveness was met without any expression but when he spoke his good cheer faded into a low hush of a whisper.
"When you were a pitiless bag of bones in the throes of ice you would be more light and capable of flight than I."
 
Comfreykit is a daughter of newleaf, and birds are a fact of life. Their songs greet her when she wakes in the morning, just as the rising sun. The dark-striped she-kit toddles close to Magpiepaw, though she's nervous to be so far from the nursery -- is she supposed to be this far? She swallows, instead opting to smile as Magpiepaw sings of earth, worms, beaks and wings. Starlingheart and Maggotpaw confirm that the birds have returned, and it has the strange blue-eyed apprentice in a chipper mood. "Earth and worms, earth and worms," she repeats with a giggle. She likes singing. It sounds so light and happy, as though she's become a bird herself.

Comfreykit looks up to see the sleek ivory-pelted lead warrior's approach. She seems scornful, looking at Magpiepaw and saying something about how he'll try to fly. The she-kit frowns. Surely Magpiepaw wouldn't try to do that. "But he doesn't have wings," she says in a thin voice to Geckoscreech.

What Magpiepaw says next, though, shocks her into silence. She doesn't know exactly what he's talking about, but it's disrespectful, and suddenly fear lances through her tiny body. Ooh, she wants to shrink away! Is Geckoscreech going to be angry with her if she says anything else? Comfreykit studies her paws, pretending she's never seen Magpiepaw in her life. Perhaps that will save her from the lead warrior's ire.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP

"easy, magpiepaw. geckoscreech is a lead warrior for a reason."

chilledstar moved themself to stand next to the rosette, brushing up against her with a quick and quiet purr before moving to look at the birds. they had heard what magpiepaw said about the birds saying they'd stay now that it was finally warm enough for them.

"what else did the birds tell you? have they told you at all about any really nice rocks?"

they lowered their voice, ears pushing forward. they didn't think that magpiepaw actually spoke to birds but maybe the young tom saw some somewhere... they had been on the search for another rock for their collection. a collection that they hid... with only about three rocks in it. none of the others had been good enough. they had to be perfect. perhaps the odd little apprentice had seen some in his search for birds... maybe.
 

Magpiepaw squinted at Geckoscreech as the leader remarked on her status; he didn't fully understand what a lead warrior was if he was being honest. Geckoscreech kept to herself and was crude, Ferndance was loud and boisterous and he wondered faintly if the brown molly was not a kitten in the body of an adult cat at times. There were no parallels between the two outside he would prefer the loud ones company to this spotted molly who mocked him in quiet indifference. Perhaps he was looking at it wrong, Chilledstar liked Geckoscreech so surely she had a purpose. Maybe they were meant to entertain the leader. One loud and one brooding; symbolic parallels with no use other than to keep the leader from smoldering in despair. Geckoscreech and Flickerfire had failed Pitchstar in that regard. Flickerfire paid for it with her life. Geckoscreech would not be far behind then. New jesters for the court were needed; Chilledstar already had a fool for a deputy.

His blue-violet gaze wandered over to Comfreykit and his ears flicked upward in delight as she sang his song as well before pulling away uncertain. He wondered why...
His immediate elation at being asked about the birds favors is quickly dampened by the following question. Rocks? What purpose did birds have to seek out rocks other than perhaps small pebbles with which to decorate their nests? Why would a being so lofty ever stoop so low to the earth as to be aware of the niceties of rubble? They only ever came down for food, to dig for worms, to peck in grass for insects. The black and white tom frowns thoughtfully, "No. They only speak of food and sing to eachother about the weather. Birds have no interest in stone. Neither do I." His dark paws scuffed the ground, "...I like feathers..."