pafp These Petals Never Fade, They’re Fake, || Lost Collar || The Face of a Phony

[Chickbloom]

// @jellypaw ♬ but no need to wait!

Chickbloom was many things. He was a coward, a crybaby, a doormat. These were aspects his peers in Skyclan were used to seeing. That scared, jittery disposition was a common sight in the forest, like scrambled eggs bubbling from the heat of a pan underneath them. Today, however, there was a different side to the whelp. Today, he was angry.

“Where, where-“ Chickbloom half mumbled, half shouted as he searched his nest for the umpteenth time; careful, precise movements having given way to frantic tearing and clawing some time ago. “W-Where’s my collar?!”

There was one spot it could be in, and yet it wasn’t. The last memento of Chickbloom’s time as a kittypet, the final reminder of when his housefolk cared, it was always tucked away safely in his nest. The skittish Scottish Fold never left the warriors’ den without making sure it was there, yet when the whelp woke up that morning it was gone. As quaking claws tore his bedding to shreds and tears rimmed amber eyes, the target of his anger shifted.

At first Chickbloom was angry at himself, furious that he was able to lose what was most precious to him. He still was, but now it was obvious that foul play was involved, that ire turned toward his peers. If it wasn’t in his nest, wasn’t in the warriors’ den, then there was one explanation. One of them must have taken it! But why? An anxious brain, so often turned inwards, now took to concocting conspiracy theories. Could it be Slate? The stern warrior had never liked him. Or maybe Silversmoke, with some insensitive scheme to toughen up the tomcat. It could even be Orangestar herself, regret at giving the whelp a full wild name driving her to revenge.

Chickbloom tore away another chunk of moss as he swept his gaze around camp, wide eyes narrowing with suspicion and anger. Anxiety forced memories of every embarrassing action to the front, every unintentional and overanalyzed slight. That time he took a mouse from the prey pile another cat was going for. The day where he interrupted another warrior’s hunt. The incident where he accidentally interrupted someone while they were speaking. Everyone had a motive, so everyone was a suspect.

The baby bird padded over to the first cat he saw, for the first time quaking not from nerves, but rage. “W-Where is it” Chickbloom hissed. “I know you stole my collar, s-so give it back!” ​

 

[SLATESNARL]

〔✦〕Despite being born into the same pampered and perfect world as Chickbloom, Slate did not view the life of living under a twoleg master as desirable. He never had; a stubborn kitten he'd been, determined to live outdoors and travel wherever the wind took him. So, the Maine Coon simply did not understand the significance behind a cat's relationship with their human; they'd tie ridiculous ribbons around their necks or color their pelt unnaturally, and most commonly mark them as a pet with a collar. Slate used to have one himself — it had been neon green with an annoying little bell dangling from it. Somewhere out in the city, perhaps underneath a dumpster or in a landfill, it was now discarded and forgotten. So, to see a cat like Chickbloom marching up and frantically interrogating him over such a useless item was utterly puzzling to the lead warrior. "And why would I want that damned thing?! Calm yourself down, now." The charcoal-pelted tom snaps back in defense, amber eyes stoking with a growing fire. That's what he was freaking out about? An accessory? Stars above. Chickbloom sure had his priorities straight — holding onto a symbol of twoleg ownership and subordination was pretty important to him, it seemed.

Now, who in the clan would want Chickbloom's collar? SkyClan did not have an issue with thieves, and obviously if a trespasser had broken into the warriors den overnight then someone would have noticed. "You must've misplaced it. Collars don't just sprout legs and wander off." The Maine Coon snorts with a lash of his tail. Whatever the case was, he wasn't very interested in helping to look for the thing. He doesn't know why Chickbloom would even want to hold onto it in the first place.

oh no, ive said too much ( i havent said enough ) //

• ooc.
  
• SLATE —— lead warrior of skyclan , mentoring coffeepaw ✦ penned by beatles
  ✦ cismale / he/him pronouns / 40 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ single / bisexual & monogamous / closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— hard combat difficulty & weak to agile, quick fighters / will start fights, will kill if necessary
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a scarred longhaired maine coon with amber eyes. a large, 20lb tom with thick locks of fur. his chest and underbelly is ruddy from sun exposure. notable scars decorate his face and his ears are both torn with one being folded over.

​

 

[oakrumble]

ᯓ✧ Of course, Oakrumble never had been ceded such an object as a collar, nor would they ever dream of having such a symbol on themselves. Oakrumble never would have allowed such a thing put on her as that represents ownership over all she does. But, Oakrumble understands the purpose of sentimental objects, she herself is a sentimental creature-- she has a little stash of bones in the forest, remnants of her favorite meals. Her heart pings for the whelp as Chickbloom confronts the first soul in his eyesight about the whereabouts of his collar, that soul being Slate who most unfortunately was not the most sympathetic towards such an issue.

"Right." Oakrumble heaves herself up onto her lofty paws and saunters over to the wee little bird and Slate. She approaches cautiously at first, still debating if this was something worth getting involved in. After all, it was likely for the better Chickbloom's collar was missing, Oakrumble knew how difficult it could be but once she had let go of attachments to her past, it was like a weight had been released from her and she could begin forging a new path in life. Her ears prick upwards and her pace quickens as she hears the underlying aggression of Slate's suggestion of the collars whereabouts. She shuffles quickly to Chickbloom's side and swipes her tail reassuringly over the young tom's back. "It must be somewhere around here." She casts a glare at Slate before continuing in a softer voice than usual-- still unusually gravely but an attempt nontheless, "We will help you find it." The quicker they find it, the less opportunity for a full blown meltdown, a sight she did not want to be in such close vicinity to and something she knew could isolate Chickbloom from their clanmates for many moons.

She guides Chickbloom off to the side of any main pathways within camp with a stern press of her shoulder, her eyes flickering over her shoulder to signal that Slate should follow. Hopefully they could understand the pertinence of assisting Chickbloom, it would be less of a headache for him if they could find a way to prevent Chickbloom from being doomed to endless moping. "Well? Where was the last place it could have been? Who would know where you stashed it?"​

 

[Owlheart]

It seems that there never really is a peaceful day in SkyClan, not in the sense of there was always a threat around every corner but it seems that mornings were never treated in a gentle respect. The fragility that was when everyone would awaken and start their day, thankfully it was later than when everyone woke up but she would still like a quiet day. Owlheart was spending her morning maintaining her nest, making sure that no bedding needed to be replaced and weaving new feathers in. It was unlike Chickbloom to cause a commotion, paws stop what they're doing and she finds herself rising. Curiosity leading her to the confrontation between him and Slate, the accusation caused her eyes to widen slightly, more so than their usual wide state.

It seemed unlike Slate to steal something? He was pretty nasty at times to daylight warriors, at least he used to be? He was still pretty gruff with them but it seems that he's mellowed out about it compared to memories she held of him when she was younger. Even if he was still mean spirited sometimes he usually just said it rather than resort to something so childish. He thinks so too, her ears flatten at the sharp tone the lead warrior uses. “We don't need to shout” she interjects as she looks between the two, running her mouth before she can catch it. Ah, guess she's involved in this now. Her eyes seek Oakrumble, hoping that she would have wiser words to say compared to her own.

“I'm sure Slate wouldn't steal something so important to you. I hope no one would do that” she grumbles the last part to herself, already feeling disappointed in whoever may have done this. Hopefully no one had, yet she has seen how careful Chickbloom is with his collar so it seemed unlikely for him to misplace it. “Let's look around at everyone's nests and see if maybe someone got mixed up?” She adds on to Oakrumbles offer of looking around for it. Owlheart was more than happy to help out, it set her nerves aflame to see someone as placated as the buttery tom be so angry. The sooner the collar could be found the sooner his nerves would be calmed which in turn would calm herself down greatly.​

 

[jellypaw ♬]

—————————————【 daylight apprentice | 7mo | emptypilled 】————————————

【◈】Jellypaw was an amount of many things, taking the cover of any role her games of pretend required her to be. She could be the hero, the detective, the sneaky warrior; there was no limit to what she would play at and today, she was made the thief!

The warriors den was a goldmine of treasure with many of her Clanmates being sentimental creatures. Chickbloom's collar was once such item, and so when the tom parted for his patrol and the den had emptied aside from the stray napper, Jellypaw took the opportunity to grab the collar and hide it somewhere else. Somewhere safe that he could never guess to look as she had covered it with a string of ferns and tucked it as far as she possibly could from the thorn branch that extended into Orangestar's meeting perch.

The toms reaction is much as she would expect when losing a precious item, it seemed she really hit the jackpot in her choice!

"Hmm, so defensive!" She hummed suspiciously towards Slate as though the tom hadn't been shouted at in accusation. Jellypaw joined the other warriors and stood tall, a knowing smile on her maw. "Let's interrogate the suspects, Chickbloom! Who did you last see in the warriors den before realizing it was missing?" Truthfully, any of them could have spotted her while she was gone. It wasn't easy to sneak around with something like a collar hanging from her jaws.

[penned by beatae].

​