THE CODFATHER / rta, sharing food

[Crawlingroach]

SKY HIGH — //It's been a while but Crawlingroach is finally back!

Sometimes being Mr Bland had its perks. It might make gaining the attention of a potential love interest that much harder, but when it came to evading the heavier of duties it was perfect. To hide in plain sight, it was like a superpower of sorts. A power that Crawlingroach had been abusing for a while. He had avoided being attacked during WindClan's assault by hiding in the shadows, and then he had escaped being called up to defend Sunningrocks. Cowardly, he knew, but he did intend to make up for it in some form or another. Right now he was working hard to hunt down some food for those who were injured and restricted to the confines of the camp.

Luck would have it that he had managed to catch a juicy looking trout, so he wasted no time in touting it back to camp for all to see. Setting it down near a cluster of other cats he then beamed a bright smile in their direction. "Hey guys! Any of you hungry? I got this trout, thinkin' we could share it." He offered warmly as he fidgeted mildly where he was sat. ​

 

[CLAYFUR]

It’s good to see clanmates going about their regular business again, but it also aches. Lily is injured—missing an eye, cooped up in Beesong’s den—and Gloompaw is missing and Clearsight is… gone. And he feels like he’s still not processing any of it. Each time he closes his eyes, he sees the pooling of crimson around his paws, tastes iron in his mouth. Howlingstar, Clearsight—does it even matter whose blood stains his pelt? He feels sick either way, feels like his awareness of the world has shrunk down to only tragedy.

A clanmate, a tom he doesn’t recall seeing in the battle (though, to be fair, Clay doesn’t remember much of anything from the battle) calls out to ask if anyone wants to share his catch, and Clay lifts his head from where it had been resting atop his paws. The thought of eating without his mate at his side still turns his stomach, but he knows he needs to keep up with regular meals. How many times have clanmates told him so? (Too many to count.) So the chocolate-striped tom stands with a soft grunt, trudging his way over to where Roach sits with his catch.

The other warrior looks pleased with himself—as he should be, because it’s a good catch—but Clay can’t manage to dredge up a smile for him. "It’s a nice catch. I’ll share some, thank you," he says with forced enthusiasm, tilting his head to glance back at the other cats gathered around. If a few others join in, maybe it won’t be so obvious how little appetite he has.
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[FERNGILL]

Exhausted from his training, Fernpaw was beginning to get used to the ache. Feverishly had he been working- he was due to become a warrior in twelve moons, wasn't he? And yet- he was still so far behind. He tripped up behind his siblings and every other apprentice his age and younger, no matter how many fish he'd managed to catch by now. Five! Not that he had been counting.

As he strode through the entrance of their makeshift camp, his eyes befell the little gathering, his clay-furred uncle Clayfur among them. Not since they buried Clearsight did Fernpaw think he'd seen a proper smile make its home on the tom's formerly-cheery face... even at the offer of a free meal.

His heart twinged at the sight, and... he felt guilty just watching. Crawlingroach and Clayfur, even if they were friends- well, they'd probably not mind an apprentice's company, would they? Even if he didn't particularly want to partake in eating with them... snacking in groups had never really been his bag. "Oh, nice!" he hummed cheerily, offering Crawlingroach twice the smile he normally bore. "Mind if I have a little try...?" He'd never really eaten a fish that big before, having obviously never caught or shared one.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Lakemoon is a skeptical cat by nature, often teased for it by the only one who was allowed to.
Yet, skepticism is lost to Crawlingroach when he gleefully announces that he has food to share, her mind to warped in her own troubles to notice how chipper he was, how unscathed. All she can see is a warrior dipped in flecks of dirt and pollen, an oblivious sign of a well-worked hunt.
She is nearby Clayfur when the commotion stirs, while not by choice but mere coincidence, she watches as he quietly accepts the others offer, Fernpaw quick on his uncles heels.
"Impressive." Lakemoon remarks with a small nod, not too keen on being the only one there to remain silent.
"How far downstream did you go? I’ll have to check it out."

"speech"

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[Sablemist]

In every situation you give me peace

Curiosity shimmers within Sablepaw's eyes as she wanders over, getting a good look at the olive toned fish. She'd never seen nor tasted one like that before. Just like Fernpaw she was tempted to sample a small bite but a question comes to her first. "Was it hard to catch?" She asks. Periwinkle eyes flicker from speckled scales to ivory face as she awaited an answer. It looked heavy, robust...strong. She could only imagine the fight it probably put up when attempting to capture it. Her haunches lower to the ground as she prepares to sit, alabaster striped tail wrapping around her paws. ​

Don't gotta be afraid because you're in the lead​

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[Crawlingroach]

SKY HIGH —Roach felt heat rush right to his ears as he was praised by Clayfur, Fernpaw and Lakemoon over his catch. It resulted in an even wider smile than the one before, albeit with a pinch of fluster over the kind comments. "Oh-oh it's not that impressive. I didn't need to go far, actually, I just did my usual of hunting around reeds and near bends in the river. Big fish like to hide in such places." He explained as he tried to play it off as if it had been nothing. Whether he would admit to it or not it was Crawlingroach's main skill, hunting in water was what he excelled at. He wasn't a great fighter, he couldn't hunt rabbits, and he was useless with politics! But if you wanted an expert fisher then he was your guy.

"It wasn't too hard, no. Main hassle with trout is not letting it escape your jaws. They are mighty strong! The faster you can toss it onto shore the better. Anyway, please everyone, tuck in! Plenty to share!" He cooed as began to tear chunks from the carcass to pass around. As upbeat as he tried to remain he could still feel that lingering solemn weight of grief over the group, especially in the way it radiated from Clayfur the most. Maybe a funny tale from the past would help lighten the mood... "Hey, Fernpaw, do you remember the swamp monster incident?" Now that was a tale for the ages.​

 

[FERNGILL]

Oh, to be able to catch fish that easily... even now that Fernpaw had the hang of it, he was not quite this successful. And this- this apparently wasn't even impressive! A fish this big, hiding around a bend... everything always sounded so easy when it was someone else doing it. Was there some curse on his paws that brought an ill fate to any task he was performing? When it was anyone else- literally anyone else, every task was just as simple as trudging around the corner. Clamping your jaws a bit tighter. Not getting pinned onto the ground...

The storm that thrashed in his eyes soon dissipated when Crawlingroach looked toward him, reminiscent of an incident that lay many moons in the past, now. Still, at the memory a smile spread across Fernpaw's lips. "Oh, yeah! Smokethroat- hah, he totally thought I was gonna die." It didn't sound funny- and it hadn't been at the time, but in hindsight the way everyone had freaked out as if they were living in a nightmare had been pretty hilarious... ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​