pafp there was never grey in black and white // trading

Maggotfur.

Maggotfur.

give us a little love — we never had enough
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Jul 30, 2022
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EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotkit | 02 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
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As sunlight filters past graying skies over head and through the marshland forest above her, a child of blue and white lay coiled like a serpent upon her perch - a bundle of rock and roots just wide enough for her to perch upon, her limber frame wrapped around and clinging tight, a jumble of awkward angle that certainly seems an uncomfortable pose. But Maggie has never cared much for comfort - to her, it is a strange foreign thing which only kittypets and weak willed kits care for.

Cold turquoise gaze watches shadowclan as she passes the time, an unpleasant grating noise coming from the prize clasped between her paws. Teeth and bone clash with a loud clack as she chews the bone - a rat bone, though she's not knowledgeable enough to know where from. Hunger pains rumble her belly, a soundless ever present thing seemingly trying to claw its way out of her. She pays it no mind - there is no prey to spare, and she is to content upon her throne to scrounge about the dirt for any morsels.

"Tch," she spits, uncaringly watching as the small shard vanishes into the nearby snow, the faint taste of copper upon her tongue from where it had briefly lodged itself within her jaws.

@Magpiekit

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"Maggotkit." It's spoken as an acknowledgement but his tone made it come across as if he was identifying a particulary interesting insect, wide-eyes honing in on the silver and white kitten crunching bones and lurking upon a throne of rubble and waste. The black and white tom kit wanders over, a combination of his wobbling movements and the snow impeding him makes the short distance take far longer than it should as he ducks and weaves through sluch and muck and finally reaches a flat stone surface to climb onto. His nose slams down into the rock as he jerks upward and forward, successfully climbing atop the pillar of granite shards at the cost of his nose hurting slightly. The kit's tongue darts out, licks outward tentatively to the pinprick black speck of a snout at the end of his muzzle as if testing for bleeding and assured he was not dying he finally flicks his tail in front of him; a beetle clasped in dark fur and still wriggling though sluggishly.
"I found a...legs. Lots of them. I don't like the crunch though, did you want it instead..." His gaze unfocuses, drifting past the other kit and he looks sharply to the side with a paw raised stiffly before shaking his head, "Trade. Trade me." Magpiekit should get something out of this too. Yes, yes. To give selflessly was to lose your entire being, one needed to have purpose.

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The kits are doing something funny he can't quite place. He just barely sees it, the flash of white as Maggotkit spits out a shard of bone. It's be impossible to see, like him. Someone would step on it and get mad, like him. And Magpiekit... Magpiekit means business. He always knows what he's talking about. Nevermind how he climbs the rock. Without thinking, "I wan't to trade," comes out. And belatedly, he realizes he's empty-pawed. He hasn't any bones– hasn't eaten yet. Hasn't caught anything yet, neither. He hasn't caught anything in a while. Realizing this, he slumps his shoulders. Dejected, even if his face shows no change. "I don't have anything..."​
 
EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotkit | 02 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
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As the other child ascends to her makeshift throne, she watches in veiled amusement - cold teal eyes giving nothing away, it is the faint upturn of her lips that betrays her. There is something to be said of Magpiekits determination - foolish as it is, she can respect it. She doesn't let the queens boss her about either - not even snailcurl, who tries so hard to be the mother she lost at birth yet falls short in the girls eyes, favoring her own brood.

Blinking slowly, she listens patiently - she's proud to say it's one of her best quality, her ability to sit still and silent and wait out what may come - as the boy stumbles through his offer. It takes her mind a moment to translate from magpie-speak into proper words but when she finally does her gaze narrows. She likes her bones - but she likes being able to eat more. Tail lashes slowly, the only sign of contemplation that slips through her façade, and she gives a purposefully slow look between her bone and the bug. "Hm..." she starts, a though the she has to think about it - as though she has not already decided to make trade. To admit so blatantly, to show her hand so early, would only be weakness - akin to bearing her neck for teeth to clamp down upon for the kill.

She is not weak - will not be weak.

Before she can make a show of her answer, head snaps sharply to the side at a new voice joining them - Ghostpaw's. He wants to trade as well and yet - he has nothing. It's almost funny, her lips twitching faintly as she holds back a scoff. "Nothing-?" she echoes back tonelessly - mockingly. She'd think an apprentice, with access to the outside world unlike herself and Magpie, would at least have something to offer - the value of such a thing undetermined.


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The beetle is still moving in his paws, held loosely so as not to crush it because its wiggling was what gave it proper value. Anyone could get a dead beetle, they were often scattered in the corners of dens or near the edges of camp near the thick briars, but it was the ones still clinging to life he considered much more interesting and if the other kitten decided she wanted to eat it then it would be all the more fresher he supposed. Did bugs rot like other prey did if left untouched for too long? He only heard of the phenomenon briefly, having never seen it and with ShadowClan's starving state he might never do so. His tiny claws tapped along the shiny carapace edges, his head tilting to the side and then jerking back upward in the motion of being disoriented when he felt otherwise fine. His head just did that sometimes. From his lofty perch he sees Ghostpaw appearing as his name, soundless and near invisible in the blanket of snow that enshrouds the entire camp. Magpiekit thinks that he's probably a very blessed cat in this leaf-bare and also in life; to be so star-touched he became a star himself.

"Nothing?" He mimics Maggotkit's comment, but his is more sincere in tone; he regards Ghostpaw with some pity in his blue-violet gaze as if trying to determine what he could do to help but inevitably he comes up with nothing. Unfortunate, but some were beyond help and he only had the one beetle he already promised to the silver kitten. Still, Ghostpaw had a lot more value than he thought. Magpiekit would love to have the glossy white pelt the other held but if that were so easy to trade he'd have already asked for it by now. His nose twitches and he rips his gaze from the phantom back to his trading partner with an impatient stare. She was wasting his time now...

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EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotkit | 03 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple
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Magpiekit grows impatient at her lack of response, and with no other offers on the table she's quick to turn her attentions onto him. As much as she wants to draw things out in a petty show of power, hunger rolls within her belly and she worries that the tasty morsel will be stolen away if she does not make the trade soon. She settles instead for one last imperious glance between her bone and the bug, before giving a heavy sigh and a positively shark-like grin - the epitome of the cat who got the canary. Her smile is not a nice smile, just as she is not a very nice child, a thing of beauty and danger alike. "Alright, I suppose that's a fair trade," she says eloquently, careful to draw her words out in that manner that grown ups do. Just another difference between her ad them she thinks, and she likes it that way. If she's different by design, then perhaps the solitude won't hurt as much.

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Nettlepaw_icon.png
One of the rare times Nettlepaw is spotted in camp and he sits hunched in a corner, observing the younger members of the clan trading... bugs and bones it seems. A face is made, lips pulling back and tongue sticking out in a show of disgust-he hated bugs, they tasted awful plus fleas were a type of bug and the amount of fleas he's had to crush from his own pelt left him distasteful of such creatures-but he was very, very bored. With his nose still wrinkled, he glanced around for something to offer the two children, black paw raised in thought before his eyes glittered with excitement. Quickly leaning down to grasp two wriggling pink creatures carefully between his teeth, Nettlepaw approached, olive eyes glinting with pride at his plan as he sided up to Ghostpaw. Spatting the two worms upon the stone Magpiekit and Maggotkit sat upon, Nettlepaw nudged Ghostpaw softly, speaking matter-of-factly, "That's because it's a combo offer. Two wriggling worms for one of those bones, which by the way, taste way better then the cousin of a flea." The lies slipped casually from his teeth, an easy-going smile plastered on his face, spiked tail flicking behind him as he looked at the two kits expectantly. They were kids, they didn't know left from right, so he felt confident they'd believe what he told them and give Ghostpaw and him one of those bones to gnaw upon.

"speech here"



OOC Tags

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  • Nettlepaw_icon.png

    8 Moons | Angsty | Anti-Authority | full biography​

    General Information
    - NETTLEPAW, Transmasc (He/Him)
    - 8 moons, ages with littermates
    - Apprentice of Shadowclan, clanborn
    - extra info

    Appearance
    Small spiky-haired, chocolate-tabby-and-black chimera with low-white and stark green eyes , reference by me(angelkisses) | 100% physical health, 76% mental health
    - smells like mud, wet-animal, filth, and just plainly gross
    - injuries, if applicable

    Mentality & Interactions
    - INFP, Chaotic Good
    - values family, equity, mercy, and respect
    - finds it sort of hard to trust others but mostly because he's focused on his family and ensuring they are protected
    - fears the thunderpath; has a resting bitch face
    - will start fights / may flee / likely to show mercy
    - skilled in stamina based skills | very weak in strength-based skills
    - attack in underline

    Relations
    BRIARSTAR xx AMBER | mate to [who] | crushing on [who]
    Littermate to Starlingheart, Lilacpaw, Marrowpaw, Twilightpaw, Ravenpaw, Dustpaw | Younger sibiling to Pitchstar, Lichentail, Adderjaw, Hollyfrost
    children, if applicable

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The kits are looking at him... critically. Saying the same words, but they sound kind of different. Not the kind of different Ghostpaw can name, though. The apprentice looks between the both. His blank gaze the same, though maybe, with a hint of worry. Nothing... would be his answer. But was that a bad answer? Would they make fun of him? But he's an apprentice. Kits can't make fun of him. Can they...? He glances toward the ground. And... Maggotkit doesn't like that.

Nettlepaw is here, now. Nettlepaw can make fun of him. Ghostpaw sends him a wary look. (Wary, for his standards...), lips in a slight pout. But he doesn't. Instead, he saves him. Ghostpaw perks up. "Yeah." Insisting, Ghostpaw nods. Nettlepaw is nice. He likes Nettlepaw. He understands about half the words, but he likes Nettlepaw.​
 
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