the mind electric ⸸ nestling


It was a gangly thing, small and furless, nothing like the majestic avians he admired from afar; watched soar upon the winds tossing overhead. Magpiepaw was at a loss for what to do with this creature, ugly and mouth gaping open in a croaking demand for food he did not have to offer. He had never seen a bird kit before, knew they came from eggs but imagined they sprang fully formed; Athena from the skull of Zeus. He raised a paw uncertain, batted at the tiny wrinkled and tufted form of the fledgling and it tumbled over at the faint touch before wriggling itself back upright in boundless determination. Admirable really, to continue screaming for food when faced with a predator such as himself; large and imposing, at least to this small bird. But the apprentice had no hunger for the feathered prey, found his stomach twist at the mere idea of eating something so free. Clipped wings forever, bones to chew on. A slow blink as he refocused on the issue at hand, hard to ignore the bobble-headed creature chittering at his paws and his blue-violet gaze rose upward to the unmistakable sign of a nest wedged within the fork of two sturdy branches. What a durable being to survive such a tumble, he balanced on the tips of his toes and rocked back onto the pad of each paw in a jaunty bounce before glancing back to the camp just behind him; he had only come to investigate the noise, but now he found himself in a perilous circumstance. He could not leave the bird.
If he did not at least try, he would be insulting them, disgraceful, they would sing of his treachery for moons to come. Magpiepaw tilted his head down, picked the squirming and lightly fuzzy bundle within his mouth and carefully avoided wedging it near his teeth in case he was startled into tightening his grip and then...
Then he began to climb. He had never climbed a tree before, had no knowledge or skill on it yet he sunk his claws in with a determination all the same and began a slow wiggle and scoot upward while the infernal cheeping of his parcel plagued his ears.


[Ooc]
Story Prompt #18: 18. A bird has built a nest in one of the trees that surround camp.
 


"TO MEET YOU UNDERNEATH THE MOONLIGHT"

Willowpatch was out on one of her afternoon walks, jaw filled with ferns and fronds and other marshland greenery. More supplies for her crafts no doubt. Her wars would flicker at the sounds of frantic chirping and as if on their own her paws would change direction until she spotted Magepiepaw attempting to clamber up a tree, something wiggling within the apprentices' jaws.

Walking up to the base of the tree, she would lay down her wares and meow up to the young tom, "You practicing your climbing, Magpiepaw? I'll catch you if you slip." Though she had no experience with climbing herself, surely she could at least break the toms fall should he lose his footing.

✦ ★ ✦

 
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Loampaw had never attempted to scale a tree before. Watching Magpiepaw give it a go now, Loampaw cannot help but snort from a space besides Willowpatch, his plume of a tail swishing with interest and his head canted to the side. The bundle that Magpiepaw held in his jaws was far too ugly, noisy, and squirmy to be anything but a baby bird.

"Ya' supposed t-tuh-to eat th-thuh-those," Loampaw scoffs. His first kill had been a fledgling, and the meat had been far softer than that of a grown bird — and here Magpiepaw was wasting the opportunity at a chance for unappreciated heroism.

Then, mischief. Loampaw couldn't climb a tree, not any better than Magpiepaw's clumsy attempt, but Magpiepaw didn't need to know that. The look he gives Willowpatch is stern: don't you dare tell on me, and then Loampaw is stood on his hindlegs, uncurled forepaw scraping claws against the base of the tree to mimic the sounds of his own mock-climb, "Better hurry Magpie-pie-piepaw, 'M gonna catch uh-up and steal it!"​
tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 10 moons

 
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EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH
maggotpaw | 05 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
Cold blue eyes take in the scene apathetically - were it her, she would've crushed the bird between her jaws without a moments thought. Free or not, or even spiritual as magpie seem to treat them, food was food and prey was prey. She hadn't been joking when she'd told him once that should she be without any other options, she'd have eaten him too if necessary. Wouldn't enjoy it - would probably even get sick, but she was a survivor and she would live no matter the cost. Tiny helpless things like featherless baby birds and kits still suckling their mothers milk were weak - there was really not point in helping them unless you got something out of it. She's not sure what magpiepaw will get out of this - other than a climbing lesson she supposes? "... the mother bird is probably going to peck you to death," she calls up, voice rather monotone - though the glint of worry in her eyes betrays her.

 
geckoscreech is apart of the onlookers, neck slightly craned upwards to get a better glimpse at magpiepaw who scales the trunk of a nearby tree with a small chick held gingerly between ebony jaws and if anyone were to peer higher they'd spot the tucked away nest where the hatchling most likely fell out from. any other apprentice or warrior would have killed it in an instant, more prey for the pile but of course this magpiepaw they were talking about. the kid had some deep bond with these feathered creatures so instead of letting it meet an unfortunate death at the paws of another he is now driven by determination to return it to its nest depsite not having much skill in climbing.

a sigh escapes from geckoscreech's lungs, they'll just have to see how this goes because she doubts anyone will sway the child from completing his mission. willowpatch atleast offers assistance in case he falls while loampaw toddles to the base of the tree, raking claws mockingly against the trunk and calling out to his denmate about stealing the bird. what a handful they are. atleast maggotpaw isn't joining in the idiocy of it all but does making a passing comment about the mother bird pecking magpie to death.

"it'll be his own fault if it happens since i can't imagine the mother will be squawking with joy seeing an apprentice with its chick in his jaws."
THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.
 

The best motivator one could give him for his asenscion was the scratching of claws on bark beneath his tail. Magpiepaw did not look down to see if Loampaw's threat was true, took the words sang upward to him as what he deemed they were; a challenge. His speed increased, awkward limbs clutching onto the trunk as he scratched and scraped his way higher and higher, occasionally a leg would kick out under him, losing grip on the trunk and he would slide back down only a few inches or so before regaining himself; if one of his limp episodes occurred now he would plummet. The black and white apprentice reached the first branch, body folding in half as he drapes across it with the still squirming and peeping bundle clenched in loose jaws, wriggling to be freed but the cage of his canines keeping it contained. The young tom's tail whipped back and up, awkward dark paws balancing upon the limb before he turned to latch his foreclaws into the branch just above him to the side, body swinging briefly in the air as he clawed his way up it.
His entire trek up the tree was marked with gouges in wood, bark stripped in places and torn in others; if trees could cry it would be weeping beneath him but trees did not. Birds did. The nest was just next to him as he straddled across the branch, one paw slipping and smashing his jaw into the hard wood and his teeth rattled as he kept his mouth open in response to not crush his passenger.
After a brief moment to reorient himself he rose, balancing back precauriously on his hindpaws to the throne of twig and down on the limb next to him, tucked into the fork between two spindly branches. Inside another loud crying worm-like thing screamed and he ignored it, jaws opening to deposit the warbling naked fledgling alongside its sibling so they could sing in harmonious cacaphony together.
And then the mother appeared, a blur of black soaring past his head and starling him so he leaned backwards to avoid it and fell.
Light as air, the wind rushing up, Magpiepaw blinked once and it was over, his body hit the branch under him and he flipped over it; tumbling into a drop into the marshy shrubbery surrounding the bottom of the tree and landing with a soft thud and a rustle of airborn leaves.
A moment of stillness in his new leafy home before he dragged himself out with a grunt, fur disheveled and bits of leaves and twigs caught in the abyss of black, the apprentice gave a shake so aggressive it knocked him back over.
"I flew." He trilled once, before raising his tail and then sitting down. ".....my tail is bent weird."

 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP

"...what the fuck?"

their voice comes out faster than they can stop it. how in the hell did... magpiepaw manage to get up there in the first place? chilledstar would have never tried— they weren't a climber and they damn well knew that. guess he was brave... or curious. either way, he could have gotten seriously hurt. he was lucky all that happened was that his tail seemed to be "bent weird" as he so spoke out. with a grunt, they made their way over to the apprentice, moving to gently push him up, sniffing over his form before back up. apprentices. always making a mess of things– themselves included.

"you might want to have starlingheart take a look... it's not really a suggestion either."

stars be damned these cats would kill them before any one else got the chance.
 
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It was supposed to be in good fun. Loampaw had meant it to be in good fun, but then Magpiepaw falls like an acorn from an oak and Loampaw can do nothing else but gape and back away, gasping out a startled, "Oh-oh-oooh shit!" and glancing uncertainly at the older cats around him. But Magpiepaw isn't dead. It take him only a moment before he is up again and talking. Loampaw exhales tension from his spine and lets the fluffed fur along his tail soothe — Magpiepaw is fine. Loampaw didn't just contribute to killing him.

"That was s-suh-so cool," Loampaw says with the sort of casualness that can only come from a deep worry, "Ya went wuh-way higher than I-eee-uh could've, buh-but 'm thinking you're supposed t-tuh-to land on yuh-your paws when you cuh-come down. Something t-tuh-to remember for nex-nexcts-next t-tuh-time."

The tail is its own concern. Loampaw's own swishes, nervous and interested.

"Does it huh-hurt?" It looks painful from Loampaw's perspective, but his own paw must look painful to an outsider. Then, "Was that uh-a-a bird that kn-knocked you down? Yuh-you were t-tuh-too high up t-tuh-to..." Loampaw trails off and makes a vague gesture upwards.​
tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 10 moons
 



Starlingheart feels the usual tug in her chest that she experiences whenever she is summoned. A tingling sensation of dread and anxiety that occurs when she thinks of a clanmate, a friend, a loved one, being hurt, of her not being able to do anything about it. An NPC comes to get her, their breath fast as they explain that Magpiepaw had fallen out of a tree, that his tail didn't look so good. She feels her face fall, she didn't know how to treat broken bones. Silently, she sends a prayer to star clan, grabs a small bundle of painkilling herbs and makes her way to the scene.

"Magpiepaw?" she says gently, placing the herbs at her feet when she is close enough "I'm- I'm here" The black and white apprentice had a special place in her heart, she had been the one who had found him as a tiny scrap among a pile of rubbish, she had been only a child as well and she thought of the younger tom as a little brother of sorts. "He-here, eat-eat these, they'll h-h-help with any- with any pain" she says, pushing the herbs forward with one paw. She watches to make sure hes chewed them and swallowed and she smiles encouragingly, despite the pain and the fear she feels about not really knowing what to do.

She would have to swallow her fear ask at the next medicine cat meeting if anyone knew how to treat broken bones.

 

His tumble had earned him a lot of sudden attention, eyes dancing from his awkwardly bent tail to Chilledstar suddenly there and eloquently crude as always. Loampaw asks if it hurts and he blinks slowly, eyes watering but not a tear to be shed. "Yeah." He croaks out, voice strained but the pain was more uncomfortable than agonizing. His entire tail-end was cloaked in an almost uneasy wave of numbness that extended up to his baglegs where the feeling trailed off in buzzing tingling sensations along his spine. Magpiepaw tried to focus on the questions and comments the other dark apprentice was making but a combination of his brain suddenly alight with realization at his discomfort and shock from the fall and Loampaw's own stuttering words left him unable to properly comprehend what was being said. Land on his feet? Bird attacked?
"...the mother was mad I was so close." The black and white apprentice says, jittery toned and words clipping upward as though a question.
It was only when Starlingheart rushed forward, tone gentle and soothing, did he realize he might have really hurt his tail in a terrible way; because surely he should be scolded for climbing so high...right? Though neither adult present at the time had said anything, so he thought it was fine.
Blue-violet eyes widened, the moisture brimming along the bottom of each lid finally built up enough for several tearful drops to tumble down his cheeks and his tone went from quiet shock to shrilly unhappy at the plants given and he took them as told without any of his usual complaints to their sharp bitter scent or odd taste out of a sudden fear.
"Am I going to die?"
 
Comfreykit had been watching from a distance as Magpiepaw had scaled the tree just on the outskirts of camp. She watches with trepidation. Clearly, he wants the bird's nest she can see nestled into the crook of a branch. She's curious about it, too -- about what could be inside of it -- but she can't go further than she has. Kits can't stray into the territory like apprentices can.

She'd often wondered about climbing some of the trees in camp. Another kit had even dared her to do it once, and she'd considered before declining in case she got in trouble. Magpiepaw is doing about as well as she probably would have, egged on by Loampaw.

His descent is swift and dramatic, and Comfreykit gasps shrilly as Magpiepaw hits the ground with an audible thud. Her fur begins to rise. There is panic. Chilledstar is there, cursing, and Starlingheart runs past her to take a look. Magpiepaw says his tail is bent, and though his blue-violet eyes are shining with tears, he does not cry.

"Oh no," she murmurs, her heart aching for him. Her own amber eyes fill with sorrow, tears glimmering on the periphery of her vision. Oh, why'd he have to fall? Why'd he have to climb the tree? She looks at Loampaw accusatorily. If he'd kept his mouth shut, maybe Magpiepaw wouldn't have done it.

She clutches her own tail, thankful now she'd never attempted.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 



She can feel her mind racing, thinking about all the possible scenarios in her head where the medicine cats deny her just like they did Dandelionwish, where they turn their claws on her like they did to her aunt. She thinks of a hundred and one bad ways this meeting could go and she is so focused on her own worries as she watches her dear friend chew and swallow the herbs she had set before him that she almost misses his comment. 'Am I going to die?' he asks and Starlingheart blinks, taken aback. "N-no" she is quick to amend both him and Comfreykit, who is also looking on, fear for her clanmate evident in her young eyes. "I don't- I haven't ever meh-met anyone who's uh who's died of a broken t-tail have you?" she asks, flicking him playfully on the shoulder with her own snow tipped tail. "You'll be okay y-you'll see" she hopes she is right, hopes she can put everyone's worries at ease even if she cannot quite the little voice in her head that screams 'what if you're wrong?' She tilts her head up to the stars and sends them a silent prayer to not make a liar out of her.

 

Among the shadows, Eeriepaw watches the scene unfold with unblinking eyes.

One moment, the prophet is climbing, seeking out a nest Eeriepaw had spotted long before now. One of the bird-kits who'd called it home had fallen out of it, and Magpiepaw looks to be returning it to its home. The ugly, squirming thing - its hard to believe it will one day grow into a true bird, a form that'll house a skull similar to Friend.

And the next moment, Magpiepaw is free of the bird-kit. The next moment, he is falling from his trek upon the tree. Soaring, downwards, straight to the ground below with a thud. Eeriepaw goes wide-eyed, leaping backwards at the sudden movement, the startling scene of Starlingheart rushing towards the fallen apprentice.

Surely, the prophet wasn't dead. Surely, his star-spots weren't fated for the tree he falls from?

Even Eeriepaw holds his breath, as he awaits a sign of life from Magpiepaw. Words are soon spoken, and the tom feels his paws drag him closer to assess the scene. A broken tail, Starlingheart says through stuttered words. Certainly, Magpiepaw wouldn't die from such? Dark eyes get a glimpse of the broken tail, bent in directions it hadn't been before.

"Looks strange," he informs. Strange, but the fortune-teller would live to see another day.