VICIOUS CYCLE ✦ SEASONAL CHANGES

[MIREPURR]

@Snowpaw. ​

They say everything is connected in one way or another, and that remains wholly true for nature itself. Nothing happens without consequence. You cannot take without giving something in turn, or you'll get something taken from you, too.

The marshes are decisively humid today. Leaf-bare feels like forever ago, invisible and forgotten under the strong rays of the newfound sun. Cicadas come out to sing; greenery returns to the landscape with vigor; algae sticks to the surface of the water. That last one sticks out like a sore thumb with its intensity. Mirepurr rejoices in the lack of mud squelching beneath their paws as they traverse the nearest bog, but lessened wetness means the water has drawn back from its usual spot. At least it's not to the point of alarm yet.

Algae is nothing new: it comes with the place, always lazing about somewhere. It's the striking vibrant color that really catches Mirepurr's eyes, and just how impossible it is to see their own reflection... considering the layer of sticky green that blocks the liquid underneath. A stark reminder of past moon's troubles, of the never-ending battle of culling the number of tadpoles. Their work is driven deep into the marshes. Stripped numbers has led to something akin of a strike.

Mirepurr moves their gaze skyward then, past the canopy of trees and towards the endless blue. All the storms responsible for overpopulation has harshly affected the crown of trees... but they remain blessedly strong, new growths already visible to make up for the damage.

What a chain reaction this whole newleaf had brought.

"How long until we beg for more frogs?" they ask whoever is close enough to hear, but it's not truly a question by definition. Mirepurr already knows the answer; if it means no more abundance of predators, then they know ShadowClan would rather go several lifetimes without seeing a frog ever again.
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[Haretooth]

"INDELIBLE IS WHAT I NEED TO SPREAD THE WORD."​

The frog song was sorely missed in the next chapter of ShadowClan’s lifespan, the choir from the cicadas were droning. Their chittering wasn’t nearly as invasive, yet it was grating all the same. The bonus was the lack of mud on the ground, Haretooth’s paws could be spared the messy torment for a beloved period of time. The humidity wasn’t desired but he would be miserable if there were only bonuses to such weather, everything needs to have a down side.

Haretooth was exploring, trying to enjoy the difference in texture. Mirepurr’s voice caused his pale head to perk up, long limbs striding towards the warrior. The question they pose rips a laugh from his throat, rather shrill and violent, akin to a bark. A gaunt paw is brought to stifle his laughter, straightening his posture as he raises his tail in greeting to the warrior and their apprentice. “I will never beg for more of those blasted little amphibians” he decides with a snort, the warrior would much rather starve than have to be face to face with a toad.

“Do you enjoy the warmer weather Mirepurr or are you in favour of it when it’s cold and wet?” He wasn’t too sure what weather he personally favoured. There was merrits to when its wet and cold, as much as he despises the mud when rain comes around it brings forth new life. There was a very real possibility that under this heat there would be more death, wherever it be from lack of food, the heat itself, minimal water. The possibilities were endless and he was eagerto see what the change of weather would bring forth.
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✯☽✯​

 

[++Waspkit++]

Too young to know frog song or the lack thereof, Waspkit was happy with the silence - that was, before some really annoying elders came and started waxing on and on about something or other. Missing something? How could they miss something? Everything was so new there wasn't enough time to get used to all of it yet! Peering up, the kit is meet with even tones and statements that sound like boring old cat speak. The older cats never had much fun around here, always talking about prey and weather and Chilledstar and feelings when they could be talking about being cool! Well, she could be old and grumpy- and cool too! She could show them how to be old!
"What ar' we yapping about?" In her best elder voice the molly struts up to the group of grown cats. She plops herself down with a dramatic huff. "I just got back from hunting those dang Thunder Clanners and their dang Orangestar. I don't want nothing more then ta hunt something interesting like -frogs." She stuttered a bit over the new word, it felt odd in her mouth. They sounded like foxes - were they the same? They had to be! Why have them be named something similar if not! "Ya know, when I was you're age the frogs used to hunt us - with the foxes." She nods, feeling very cool.

✧ Out with lanterns, looking for myself

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  Feel free to be annoyed at her lol she is just clueless to the max
  
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  — A black and white molly with a short tail that ends in a point and amber eyes
  
  — 3 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
  — child of NPC and NPC :: sibling to Owlkit, Shadowkit, and Pitchkit
  — Shadow Clan ; loyal to Owlkit, Shadowkit, and Pitchkit
  — Not hard to befriend ; trusts easily
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

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[smogstar]

A bright-eyed and fluffy-furred optimist might go on to say that ShadowClan has returned to normal in the days gone by. Frog populations dwindled underneath surplus levels for the first time in several moons. Beneath the scorching sun, footpaths throughout the territory widened as floodwater receded. Algae and scum replaces amphibious eggs at the crest of boggy banks, and for the most part, ShadowClan's territory was left free to resume its slow return toward equilibrium. But normalcy, in itself, remains an unadulterated illusion in the swamp. As it always has, and as it likely always will. Something will veer this clan off its course before long.

Conversation stirs just off yonder, close enough in proximity for the deputy to seize every word, yet too far to investigate without coming across as eavesdropping.

Smogmaw wills it upon himself to kick aside the mossball he'd been lapping at, and draw near like an unassuming creature out for a mid-day stroll. For the sake of a cat's own curiosity, and all. Not a whole lot of curiosity abounds in the face of smalltalk, but all the same, anyone worth their weight ought to interact with their clanmates.

It is Waspkit who garners Smogmaw's attention at first, though only for a paltry moment. Rather quickly does it become apparent that the kit's merely regurgitating phrases plucked from older cats' mouthes. While the tom would be remiss to expect profound conversation from a newborn, surely the little one could consider something novel to say. "ThunderClan's led by Howlingstar, little one, but I believe you," he remarks through a plastic smile, giving the kit a flick of the brow before his focus finds a more captivating pinpoint.

"Difficult to find any of the swamp's weather pleasant," he adds, addressing Haretooth's query meant for Mirepurr. "At least there's no flies when it's cold, though." On the other paw, no flies means no frogs, and no frogs means no fresh-kill on the pile. Oh, blast it. He'll fret over that when the time comes in six or seven moons.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

there is only two things in life that's guaranteed. two things. change, and death. death brings change and sometimes change brings death but that was the only thing anyone could count on. but... change wasn't always a bad thing. with greenleaf came more different types of prey. they'd gotten a handle on the frog problem but not without a tiny bit of guilt in their stomach. they wonder if they will be begging by leaf fall for more frogs and don't even get them started on the harshness of leafbare. they csn say what they wanted now but truly they'd be praying to the stars for even a single croak from the frozen over swamplands soon enough.

"hm. i think that i could do without the damp heat that comes from living here. but... having prey for once is nice. espeicslly when its more than just frogs."

they love frogs just as much as the next shadowclanner but even they have had their fill. truth be told, they might have easily killed a cat for a juicy and plump hare.

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---​

but i'm so blue✧ i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you

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• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 46 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
  — mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

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[BATCHASER]

The Frog populations has been greatly dwindled. Beneath the scorching sun, the bicolored warrior was… tired. More so than usual. The marshes are humid today, The choir of cicada songs are chittering away, algae sticks to the surface of the water, and such. Overall he rejoices with the lack of mud, he mixed with the feeling of mud– he likes it but he also dislikes it.

Batchaser slowly blinks, as the long-legged tom layed on the ground of camp without anything to do. He could take a nap, but that’s already his favorite pastime when he isn’t awake and bored out of his mind. He is glad that there is a lack of mud on the ground. But the bonus is the summer season- With Greenleaf around there are new types of prey to hunt. He lifts his head from the ground, spotting his pale brother experimenting with the ground texture. A large ear twitched, as he gave up on laying on the mud-less ground.

The lanky tom raises onto his paws, and with a shake of his pelt, he saunters after his little brother like a wispy shadow as the other moves. Perking up as Mirepurr’s voice reaches his ears, he lets out a snort as Haretooth lets out a shrill laugh commenting on frogs. "Yuck, frogs. I’ll never beg for any of those hellions." He’d rather starve than ever eat a slimy frog or forbid a toad. Disgusting. He sits next to his sibling, curling his tail around his paws, as he listens to the conversation like a silent spectator.

THE DARLING MOON ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ HIDDEN EYES AND SHARP GRINS

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• ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER. ╱ shadowclan warrior.
  ✦ cismale ; HE / HIM, fine with gendered terms. ; 31 MOONS & AGES EVERY 10TH.
  ✦ pansexual / not actively looking / open to crushes & romance
  ✦ a tall, shorthaired curly black smoke mix with gold/green heterochromatic eyes.
  ✦ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
  ✦ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✦ smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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[HARRIERTEETH]

જ➶ There is an amused smile playing on her lips as she listens to the banter. Though the start is bittersweet given the struggles that Shadowclan sometimes had with their prey. The strange frog explosion they had was a blessing and a curse all wrapped with a nice bow on top. She is not a picky eater by any means but the continuation of the same prey definitely made her stomach do flips and frog is one of her favorites to eat. Something about the legs is just so good. A soft hum plays in her throat then as she allows herself to step over to the ground. The woman softly dips her head in greeting as she sits down and wraps her tail around herself. Suffice to say she is infiltrating the conversation with a simple ease as she blinks her one good eye. Angling herself so that she can see all of them, well at least most of them. "I wouldn't mind praying to Starclan for frogs when we need them. It was simply too much before." She muses gently as she tilts her head up just slightly. A little smile pulls at her maw when it comes to Waspkit and she chuckles. "Sounds like the frogs and foxes could understand one another."

If that truly ever did happen she is sure that Shadowclan would not have a great time. A soft sigh leaves her maw then as she turns her head up to the towering trees and the sky above. "I hope it doesn't get too hot. It's warm enough as it is and my fur is too thick for it." She hates the heat anyway and always has given her long and thick coat of fire. But the queen still remains hopeful of the future and her clan.​