pafp THE DIRT MADE NOT A SOUND — garlic prompt

[Starlingheart]

"Ju-just a little farther - just a little farther n-n-now…" she says quietly, almost to herself as she leads the tortoiseshell tom through the pines. She is going off of pure memory of that day when Twilightfall had appeared before her, had delivered her cryptic message.

Perhaps if she shows Dogfur he could spread the message to others about what it looks like, they could find more patches of wild garlic. At least, that is her hope.

Her whiskers twitch in excitement as her eyes alight on the small white flowers and a purr rumbles in her throat, delighted that she has done something right, that she had been able to find this spot again. "He-here it is!" she exclaims. "St-starclan told me they to-told me it is to be r-r-rolled in and n-not plucked" she informs him. She had passed along the message a couple of times now but it was worth repeating. Who knew, maybe it really would help with hunting.

// please wait for @DOGFUR
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[DOGFUR]

Dogfur dogged behind Starlingheart. Her funny way of interacting with StarClan was a source of great interest to the tortoiseshell, who had been known for making up many things about how their ghostly ancestors lived—or died rather. Could they be called alive if they spoke but their bodies were dead? He did not blame any poor soul who did not believe in such things. It was simply absurd.

Starlingheart's exclamation makes Dogfur's ears perk and he trots over slowly to where the white flowering patch lay near the medicine cat's paws, safe and sound from her plucking white paws. No herb was safe from her. Except this one. Dogfur stared at the plant, noticing its insignificance. The stench was perceptible, but he knew it would be much more if they shred it.

"I wonder what makes them immune to... medicine cat's wrath." Dogfur commented, settling down on his haunches with his jagged whiskers twitching. A cracked laugh bubbled in his throat before he suddenly stopped, mouth agape as a sudden realization came over him. "Though, on second thought, if they are to be rolled, then that is just another pun-ish-ment. I think I would rather be plucked, not smashed and rolled."

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[FERNDANCE]

Ferndance wasn't quite sure of what she was doing there. Lingering like a shadow near where the two had congregated, she'd had a question for Dogfur on the tip of her tongue for the longest of time, waiting for Starlingheart to be out of earshot before she unveiled some giddy thoughts to the tortoiseshell. But, Starlingheart never did leave, instead, she took her friend someplace, told him all about her prophecy, and emerald eyes widened as she was reminded of such a thing. Revealing herself, the mud-slicked molly moved closer to the two, catching glimpses of their white-petalled saviours as she tried to judge their reactions to the garlic. Naturally, their medicine cat seemed utterly delighted, but Dogfur acknowledged how cruel it was to be crushed and the cinnamon tabby nodded along with reverence. "We are the monsters to their Bri—ains. Brains go smash on the thunderpath." Ah, whoops, she would try that again. Clearing her throat, she mewed. "We are the monsters to their thunderpath." She smiled sincerely as if her prior blunder had never happened. Briarstar's death, a constant fascination for the viscera-enthused she-cat, was still a sore spot for many, as she'd learned patrolling out near WindClan's stinky borders.

"I... am a little confused though. Why do we have to roll around in it?" She asked, her head tilted towards Starlingheart. "I never thought our issue was with how we hunted, I thought it was the fact that there was nothing to hunt. How is smelling like..." She leaned closer towards the plant, sniffing it and recoiling in surprise at its pungency. Flattened ears soon popped back up, twisted in opposite directions. "That.... supposed to help us attract prey?" Surely everybody and their mothers would smell them coming. With no mind for herbal knowledge (or much else outside what was familiar), the cinnamon tabby fell back on her haunches, a hind paw lifting up to scratch at a nagging itch on her side.
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[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ Truth be told he has no reason to be out here. The has finished his daily duties and there is nothing left for him to do. Nothing to distract him from the pain of his memories. His maw keeps stretching in an ever present grin because he can not falter. But oh how it tugs and tugs and stretches the skin too tight. Yet here he is and as he hears Ferndance speak about the garlic, the only thing he wishes to think she has only talked about he pushes through the foliage and blinks his eyes. The one with sight allows him to see the grouping of cats and he tilts his head. At the center of their attention is a plant, the one mentioned befoee. Guess this is the garlic stuff. "Is it just for hunting? Or can we use this for...ambushing?" He tries to he positive but he has little faith in what Starclan says. Afterall, no one, not even the other clancats have been kind to them.

Simply sitting along on the sidelines to watch them suffer. What a shame. The small cackle that leaves him is sudden and he eyes the garlic before shrugging his shoulders. It seems sound enough but again, what is the point in rolling in it?​