pafp There's a snake in my boot! | snake in boot

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

How does this keep happening?

Snakeblink doesn’t have an explanation. He feels like he’s been bumbling from one mortifying accident to the next lately: tripping on his own paws, nearly falling off cliffs… And now this.

It started off as a normal day. He went fishing, as one does when newleaf weather makes it so pleasant to swim again. The clan needs fattening up and he is only too happy to oblige. But then he noticed a dark shape in the water and when he went to fish it out, instead of a large slow fish he found himself dragging up some sort of twolegs paw, except… empty? The strange creatures seem to shed their skin like snakes.

Intrigued by this discovery, of course Snakeblink would investigate this hollow twolegs part. He wasn’t a complete idiot about it: he laid it on the shore, sniffed it to check for anything stranger than usual, but aside from a bad smell it seemed innocent enough. And then, of course, he had to go and let his curiosity get the better of him and shove his head in there to see what it’s all about.

He has yet to get his head out.

After a short — okay, not so short — moment of panicked flailing and rolling around trying to get the damn thing off his face, Snakeblink has achieved nothing more than exhausting himself. He then attempted to paw and pull at the thing ineffectively; shaking himself did nothing aside from making him dizzy. He is well and truly stuck. Was this a trap? Is it dangerous?

(Or is he just stupid?)

His last burst of intelligence has been to put himself out of the way of any passerby, shuffling blindly backward until he feels twigs brush against his fur. At least this way he’s somewhat safe from his clanmates’ jeering while he tries to figure out what to do.

He can feel mud drying on his pelt, and his nose stings from the twolegs smell of this hellish contraption. Suffice to say he’s not doing too great and feeling quite sorry for himself.

Then he hears, muffled but recognizable, a familiar and more than welcome voice: that of one of his fellow lead warriors. Flattening himself to the ground, he hisses quietly:

”Psst! Quickly, over here!”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• ooc: @Smokethroat @Cindershade
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Smokethroat could not be more grateful that the river was returned to them, while their camp was still flooded and they had been beseeched by otters over proximity to their own dens, RiverClan was doing much better and for this he was grateful. It was like the tension in his shoulders finally lessened, similar to working out a particularly bothersome knot in the muscle; and he was sure it would only get better once back in their own proper dens away from thise copse where he felt so exposed sleeping in their poorly constructed temporary shelters. Hopefully the river pulled back before the rains began in earnest or they would all be muddy and miserable, but at the very least: well fed. One struggle for another, at least it wasn't snow. He had come to detest the substance, the way it clung to everything and seered the eyes with its brightness, how it melted in clumps and left the entire territory a pit of slush and muck and took forever to fully finish removing itself from their land so they could once again bask in newleafs warmth. Hunting with Cindershade was preferably to anyone else, the rosette molly didn't chat his ears off and only offered conversation sparringly and when the situation arose and he found he gretly enjoyed the company of cats who knew when to talk and when not to. As they continued forward the rustling nearby lead him to pause mid-stride, tail raised and alert and lone sun-colored eye narrowed toward the sound of awkward scuttling around only punctuated with a soft hiss and then...Snakeblink speaking. Smokethroat pushes through the brush and...

He stares. Single orange eye unblinking in incredulous disbelief to the sight before him. It took a moment to even process what he was witnessing and when he did a snort escaped him before he could squash the noise back down. Snakeblink was a mess, one of those strange two-leg pelts slung across his head in the shape of one of their strange and elongated paws and it surely smelled as poorly as it looked, old and worn from many moons of use and then disuse.
Why he did not directly ask for aid if he was stuck became apparent with his hushed decree and retreat and the dark tom glanced sidelong to his equally night-colored companion with his nose wrinkling as he resisted the urge to begin laughing on the spot only to fail in this task. A short, choked chuckle rises up from his throat before he has burst into laughter immediately. The dark warrior didn't often laugh, rarely did anything strike him as funny enough for more than a bemused partial smile but the fool of a tabby bobbling about with his head plunged into some two-leg obstruction and looking more like some awkward deer than a cat anymore had absolutely broken.
"I....SORRY DO I KNOW YOU?!" He found himself asking, blurted out between gasps of air and wheezing that almost dropping him from his stand to a sit.
​

 

[Cindershade]

Prowling along the pebble-laiden shore and weaving through the reeds, Cindershade finds herself once again by the shadowy tom as her hunting partner. She never minds it, honestly she was beginning to enjoy his company more and more. They shared similarities, relishing in the quiet and speaking only when needed. There was no incessant chatter and annoying buzzing in her ears like summer fruit flies, only silence with the gurgling of the river and roar of the gorge in the distance. New-Leaf had been coming along nicely, the promise of warmer weather despite the early morning chill that had burned away hours ago. Sunlit rays absorbed into her patterned coat, soaking up all the warmth along her back while she walked in step with Smokethroat. Her tabby tail swished nonchalantly whilst her head was held lower in conjuction with her jutting shoulders.
They were on their way to a decent hunting spot, both content in their silence when a ruckus of rustling in the foliage catches her ears along with her companions'.
"What the—" The molly begins, her venomous eyes constricting to pinpoint slits whilst her fur begin to prickle along rippling shoulders. If it was prey skittering around, clearly it was either too large to go unnoticed or completely stupid. But—a shame it wasn't, for Cindershade wouldn't have made an awful mixture of a snort and a cough as a voice raised to her ears. One that was all too familiar, and she just couldn't help be revel in this moment. The great Snakeblink, flopping around like a fish on dry land with awkward flailing of his limbs, hidden within the bushes with something wedged on his head. Smokethroat and her stand there for a moment, taking in a memory she'd be sure to remember for her lifetime. There he stood in all his glory, with a piece of a Two-Leg pelt on his head that usually belonged on their paws. A smile pulls tightly along his shaded features, crinkling her eyes as a hardy laugh threatened to bubble up in her throat. She purses her lips tightly in fear that if she even made a move to open her mouth, a squawking cackle would rush from her. But, Smokethroat's own laughter has broken her. Jaws part open widely with howling laughter that followed suit, her abdomen clenching as she gasps for air.. "It sounds like Snakeblink—but this guy....hehehehe— is waaaay more handsome!" She borderline shouts in the midst of her cackling, keeling over finally while clutching her sides.
Oh, how much fun they were going to have some this. The sight before her was a comical masterpiece, but the smell that permeates her nose and throat from the Two-Leg thing has her almost gagging, the stench a mixture of something like stagnant water and the rear end of a hound. She could only imagine the smell inside of it. "Didn't your mother tell you to not stick your neck in places where it doesn't belong?" She chides, attempting to regain control of herself although at this state she was failing miserably.
​

[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[BEESONG]

if there is one thing that riverclan is skilled at, it would be finding trouble. beesong thinks this with a hum as he stumbles across two of riverclan's lead warriors cackling like madmen at their peer... who has a twoleg object adhered to his head. the trapped snakeblink flails around like a fish out of the water, and beesong has to bite down on his own lip to keep himself from bursting out into laughter.

they've seen this particular object plenty of times; beesong's old twoleg would keep a pair at the entrance of the den, and the cinnamon tabby would know that their owner was departing whenever they'd slip the odd contraptions over their hind paws. beesong never understood why their twoleg did the things they did... but at the very least, it was predictable once they got used to it.

snickering, beesong contemplates sitting back and watching alongside the two shadows of the river; but responsibility waits for nothing, not even his own amusement. as the medicine cat, he's expected to help his clanmates in need... even if said clanmate needs help out of a situation so ridiculous it could be from out of a dream. "how the hell did you even get yourself into this mess?" beesong wonders aloud as he takes a step forward, still stifling his chuckling... the crowing of smokethroat and cindershade doesn't make the feat easy, but he manages to be relatively restrained in comparison. "and stop moving if you want me to help... if you smack me with this thing, i'm gonna leave you to figure it out yourself." it's a hollow threat, but he hopes it dissuades snakeblink from flailing around some more and accidentally hitting him.​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Hope lasts about a second; then, Smokethroat and Cindershade start cackling, and his shoulders drop as he realizes he won’t be getting out of this anytime soon.

“Yes, yes, laugh it up, very mature,” he mutters, muffled by the contraption on his head. He swipes blindly and ineffectively towards the sound of their laughter. “If this is what you consider handsome, Cindershade, it’s no wonder you haven’t found a mate yet. No cat alive can meet those standards…” Aside from him, that is.

Frowning within the confine of his own poor decisions, Snakeblink paws uselessly at the leathery protrusion hanging off his face. The smell feels like it’s going to stick inside his nose forever. “I don’t think my mother could have foreseen this,” he adds mulishly. The truth is that Salamander, bless her star-walking soul, had about as much luck getting him to stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong as anyone else; that is to say, very little.

Beesong’s gentle voice comes as a starsent amongst the barking laughter of those other two. Snakeblink turns their way, burden swinging wildly as he tries to face the right direction. He cringes, freezing on the spot: he hopes he didn’t come close to doing exactly what Beesong warned him against. It’s hard, staying still with that thing still on his head; it’s making him claustrophobic. “Apologies. Please… Please help. Quickly, before anyone else comes back. These two are bad enough as it is.”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

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