tree of life ꕥ offering

[LAMBCURL.]

[ takes place after this thread though it's not necessary for context <3 ]

His trek had been successful, more than he'd dreamed. Home, he had returned, a poisonous sprig in maw, surrounded by friends; burning warmth in his chest. The bud is held carefully. It had to be, if he did not want to keel over so soon. There is curiosity, there... how quick the juices could kill. Things Vulturemask would be interested in too, would he not? Another experiment in order then... He may volunteer. Always, he would, but he should deliver it, first...

That is his only intention. To deliver, to assist. But his paws had dragged, tired, from the territory-wide trek. He had taken Sunstride's advice, nestled himself somewhere warm... Oh, company would have been nice, but he'd been much too late...

And he startles awake at late dawn, a thread of drool wetting his lip. His bounty still rested at his feet. To them, he scrambles then. And he worries– would its effects be lessened, the longer it stayed from its parent? Not ideal, oh no. What would the use be, if not to see and experience? Hurridly, Lambcurl grasps it again. Pink eyes are wide and glassy as he searches the clearing. There, yes. "Hello. Hello..." Quiet talk, further muffled; it'd be a wonder if Vulturemask hears him at all. But oh, he tries. And he sits. And the bounty is dropped at the healer's paws. "Water Hemlock." Simply, he says.

Only now does he notice that the color is not quite right. Gently yellow, the peeking blooms. Lambcurl's head tilts, just slightly. His smile drops into idle contemplation. Staring, now; and then, his eyes lift to Vulturemask's "The smell does not kill, I found out." Worthwhile discovery; he tells him.

[ It's yarrow </////3 @VULTUREMASK but not pafp! ]​

 

[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon tried not to judge. Really, he did! He felt often that he had no right to judge anyone's harmless quirks or abnormalities; wasn't "normal" subjective, anyway? After all, SkyClanners thought having kittypets in their Clan was normal: clearly, the term lacked any universal meaning. This being said ... there were a few of his Clanmates whose intense strangeness he could not help but note and whose character he could not help but question. Lambcurl was among them, for his appearance if nothing else: pink eyes, a rabbit's half-tail, and a startling white coat. His demeanor didn't help, either: bizarre sentences, worm-munching, and now, apparently, herb-fetching. For a heartbeat the broad-shouldered tom wondered if he had missed something, somehow - had Vulturemask appointed an apprentice? And was that apprentice Lambcurl? But - no, no, surely not. He wasn't that out of the loop. Badgermoon's yellow eyes tracked the older tom as he approached their medicine cat with a single stalk of an unfamiliar herb between his lips and deposited it at Vulturemask's feet. His eyebrows lifted at the mention of a killing smell. "Does the rest of it kill?" he inquired, a little more sharply than he had intended to. Concern displayed clearly on his bicolor face. It was in his mouth! Did he carry a poisonous herb in his mouth?!​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

It was a good thing that Lambcurl hadn't broken his legs. Mallowlark quite enjoyed the company of a fellow snow-blob, though where he had small dots of black fur strayed about Lambcurl was spotless and paler than he. Looking at everyone the same, Lambcurl often tended to join in with what humour Mallowlark had decided to apply to the situation, never recoiling- that, he appreciated. With all of the strange looks often tossed his way, even from the eyes of friends, it was fun to have someone around who did not do such a thing.

Hearing the fray of Badgermoon's sharp incredulity, Mallowlark's eyes snapped open, soon comfortably fixating upon the scene. Ah- it was that poison Lambcurl had picked up, wasn't it? Apparently poison, anyway- Mallowlark was no plant-master, despite Dawnglare's regular company. They never tended to talk about plants, often preoccupied with carving the sky in twain...

The deputy's comment pulled a laugh from him like a thorn from a paw-pad, sudden and spilling. "If it did, he'd already be puking up his innards," he instructed, certainty residing in his voice even through the veil of permeating giggles. ​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

Another gift to the medicine cat, first prey from Silverpaw, now a plant from Lambcurl. It made sense to gift Vulturemask so often, Harrierkit believes. If he was a connection to StarClan, maybe gifting him was also gifting the stars? He contemplates this for a few quick moments before trotting over, taking note of the albino tom’s words. The smell does not kill, I found out.

Smells can kill? His ears fold, you’d think the smell that sometimes came from his litter-mates and other kits in the nursery would kill then. Sometimes the den reeked. How do you know when a smell would kill? This concerned the kitten, but it didn’t seem to concern the adults present.

He grows near, giving Mallowlark a weird stare as if trying to decide what to think of him. His mother, Sootstar, clearly was not pleased with this Tom often… Harrierkit decides to keep his distance for now, lacking any feeling of contempt or hatred for the time being. Was not to say his parent’s opinions of others did not rub off on him, though.

”Smells… can kill?” He asks, head tilting.​

---

Spoiler: TAGS 🪶 02-23

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, male — he / him
╰ ‣ 2 moons . pisces. ages on the 14th
╰ ‣ windclan kit . believes in starclan

╰ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells of the earth and dry grass , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue and brown chimera . average sized WindClanner . yellow eyes

╰ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Chaotic neutral
╰ ‣ self-reliant, loyal, disciplined, direct, impatient, unsympathetic, judge mental
╰ ‣ finds moderate difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, but typically displays mercy

╰ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· WEASELCLAW x SOOTSTAR, sister to Windstrider, Sootchaser, Moorkit, Adderkit, Bluekit & Cottonkit
╰ ‣ nephew to Mintshade & Bluepool
╰ ‣ sexuality unknown
╰ ‣ apprentice to TBD
╰ ‣ poor fighter . poor hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

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[VULTUREMASK]

It was far too early in the morning for him to have to deal with the stupidity if his own clanmates. Why on earth would he want poison?. What exactly was he suppose to do with it. A deep tired frown was upon the medicine cat's maw as he had turned to face Lambcurl and his not so appreciated gift. He did take notice that the 'hemlock' was yellow and he did think he remembered it to be a different color with his lesson about poison with Dandelionwish. But honestly the plants had almost been withered away so how was he suppose to really know how they looked when they were freshly bloomed?. For as far his knowledge went this could as well be water hemlock.

" Why would you.....?." give that to him for?. What on earth was wrong with this ones brain. There was so many insults he could come up with to say in that very moment but he decided a different approach, rethinking his words a bit. After all there was an audience around him now and Vult was like he already had stated to tired of this so early in the morning. " Great thanks, finally i can commit murder my longtime dream." He said with clear sarcasm although his voice was as dead as a rat.

Mallowlark said something smart for once when he answered Badgermoon stupid question which just added to Harrierkit's own curiosity. The medicine cat would let out a heavy sigh. " No...you're fine as long you don't eat it...i think." he had to tease in hope to scare his clanmates a bit being pretty sure it was safe as long they not eat it although since Lambcurl had hold the hemlock in his mouth...he was not sure how much time this one had left. " Well...if you survive this Lambcurl you earn the title of being the luckiest cat alive." and the dumbest.



​

 

[LAMBCURL.]

Does the rest of it kill? To the deputy, Lambcurl blinks. So he had thought, anywho. So he'd been told... Unmistakable, was it not? The pale blooms... Warning from the cursed. And as he was not, never to be seen (Gone, presumably, and not without purpose), it would make sense, had he carried such deadly knowledge with him...

Along with Mallowlark, this one nods, smile placid. The words spelled no falsehood, and neither did his form. He was no ghost, not yet, even if he was pale and watery as one. Though it dawns on him... Dawns on him that he is indeed, living. And its wonderous in this moment, so that he may deliver his gift. But was it really, when the gift itself was not doing what it was supposed to? His face falls, and his stare is blank. Stuttering look. He goes cross-eyed to the plant in his maw.

That stare would then turn to Harrierkit, little one of the Miss. Lambcurl mimics him with the twist of his head. Honest, certainly, "I had thought so..." He sounds far away. Of course, that answers little, but he need not strain for an answer their own medicine cat could give. He knew now that this one could exist in peace, were it not consumed, but that does not mean the same applies to each and every little wonder...

And this dream of his... "Oh." A happy coincidence, it seems. He does not further question. After all, he was not obligated to answers. For a reason, he supposes, and he nods. "Of course."

He had not thought he would die today. Last night, he had; but not today. "I was careful," he tells them. Besides the residue, all is intact. Not a petal gone, not a leaf wounded. He had thought the key was to ingest, not to taste. His eyes squint in the daylight; a watery pink drag to the ground. "Is it not the plantstuff...? Is it the taste...?" Well now they would know, anyways. Content, he sits, and he waits.​