pafp WHIRLING IN RAGS | reminiscing

[FERNDANCE]

All clans except SkyClan were disappointingly unhappy with outsiders, but within the past few moons, ShadowClan had invited so many that Ferndance couldn't recall who was clanborn and who had roots away from the marshlands. It had never been a massive bother for her, it had almost become a symbol of hope this past half-moon, that if one clan could tolerate strangers, then perhaps, a clan across the river could too. She could never know for certain, but optimism muted the grief that had consumed her heart since the day Snowypaw disappeared. That dusk, after most of the patrols had returned for the day, the cinnamon tabby had found a feline with the aforementioned foreign roots, a sibling of Chilledstar. The offer of sharing a large frog had been a quick excuse to settle down close to Shrike, the amphibian already having several nibbles taken out of it along the outskirts of its belly. Ferndance watched them with wide eyes as she slowly chewed on squishy meat. Normalcy was what she craved, the normalcy to be weird and wonderful and beautiful and free, but the past was a creepy crawly that didn't quite want to disappear. Perhaps if she thought even further back, she wouldn't have to bother them with memories of her daughter.

"I used to be a rogue like you, you know..." she spoke through her chews, mouth half-full of viscera. She nodded her head as if predicting Shrike to say 'oh really?', even if they said something completely different. "It's true, my family of eight used to travel around all the territories, stopping for a little bitty bit of time before moving on to the next patch. We'd make all sorts of friends, like... there was this one loner, she was a tiny little thing with a stubby tail and two bottom teeth that jutted out. One time, we worked with her and she was able to convince a deer that she was its baby! It was the cutest thing in the world... save for the deer itself. It looked like a deer, but it barked like a dog." It had been the smallest cervine she'd ever seen, perhaps, somewhere in its family tree, it had crossed with a dog. Head tilted at the idea of the genetic anomaly, Ferndance swallowed the piece of frog almost absentmindedly, blinking at the tautness in her throat from a bite too big for comfort. Letting out a tepid mew, Ferndance asked, "Have you met any strange deer?"

@shrike
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[shriketalon]

Shrike found themself making eye contact with the deceased frog that had been offered as a shared effort. They couldn’t particularly say they enjoyed eating them but food was food and they had never been a picky eater before so why would that change now? It was an awkward exchange, whenever they’d look to speak with Ferndance they’d first instinctively look at the frogs eyes then dart around that. They weren’t sure why the warrior had sought out to speak with them in particular, but they were glad. Shrike was a rather social creature, they craved conversation and sought the company of others which was hard come by during sombre moments like this.

They suspected that this was the same for Ferndance, whenever they saw her she had seemed to be chittering away. They assumed there was a flare for the dramatics with her, they were half certain that she was the mother of the kid that was missing from here. A subject like that wouldn’t be touched on though, not from them. Instead, they were happy to play the role of distraction, the shared frog was a mere conduit for that opportunity of distraction. Their ear flicks at the mention of the warrior next to them being a rogue once, their head visibly picks up as their attitude in kind perks up due to that curiosity they held from one simple statement. Shrike had many questions but they had to first make sure this wasn’t some nonsensical joke “No way! You’re just trying to be funny” they were in disbelief, the idea for some reason was shocking.

Ferndance held their enraptured attention, though they were cautious that she may just be making it up they were willing to even hear about a fantastical tale about stubby loners convincing deer that she was kin. The warrior seemed pretty genuine about it? That and they supposed it was a weird thing to make up. “Do you have any other stories about your time as a rogue? Apart from a cool loner who was fake kin with dog deer” they snicker at the idea, trying to visualise what that creature would have even looked like. There was something interesting about hearing these tales though, would that same interest be held if they knew from the start that she had origins as a rogue? They didn’t really care to think about that for too long, letting themself get distracted by her question.

“Mm, nothing like that, I think I would remember a dog deer!” They tilt their head to look up at the sky, trying to recall memories of their youth, stories that either parent had regaled them. They couldn't recall anything like that, until they see a wayward tree branch twist wrong in the corner of their eye, bringing forth a memory of a story that they could actually tell.“Oh! Actually, speaking of deer, I have met a strange one. I saw a real scary one as a kit. I snuck away from ma and the others to try and see if I could see my dad. It was super dark, I think the moon was covered in clouds or something? Anyways, I ran into a deer. But it was like all bloody and weird, its antlers made it look like it had decided to go on a rampage and lost! Half of the antlers were peeled, it was gross, I’ve always wanted to see another one of those blood deer again. I want to make sure I wasn’t just making it up because I ran back to ma so quickly that I didn't take a super long look at it!”

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‎‎ ‎┌── Black sheep ⤜ Come home ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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  OOC.
  
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• Shrike│Bio
  ⤜ They / Them, Loner , 27 moons {ages on the 1st},
  ✧ A long haired black feline with low white spotting and hazel eyes.
  ✧ Jagged x NPC
  ✧ Speech, #ad744a, thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ✧ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Halfsun]

For Halfpaw, being born anywhere outside of the five territories that made up the forest in which she lived in was inconceivable. She can fantasize about life in the other clan's well enough, she had had her paws in a strangers camp when she was a kit, after all, but beyond that? She is left to wonder. It's why when she overhears Ferndance speaking about her time spent as a rogue she stops to listen.

The cinnamon molly spins a tale of deer that are dogs, of cats that pretend to be deer and for a moment, Halfpaw indulges in childish whimsy, allows herself to feel awestruck for a fraction of a second before her cynicism kicks in. "No way that actually happened!" she says to both the warrior and the stranger, Chilledstar's brother. "You two both sound like elders right now" her voice is teasing, but she doesn't mean it in a way that is meant to hurt them, its just... c'mon! What deer was stupid enough to think a cat was it's baby. And that's not even mentioning the blood deer! Maybe Shrike had just had a bit of bad prey that's all..

( ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ) no fake friends, forced smiles, or favors

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• 
  HALFPAW SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO APPLEPAW, ASHENPAW, SWANPAW, GARLICPAW, THORNPAW AND LAURELPAW
  

  A fluffy she cat who's fur is half cream tabby, half blue tabby split by white. Her eyes are two mismatched shades of blue, with one being a light icy blue and the other being darker in color.

  ✦ Easy in battle + still learning how to fight
  

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[smogstar]

Smogmaw does not know Shrike, and in the context of a cat's life beyond the clans, Smogmaw does not rightly know Ferndance either. Both have spent significant percentages of their days in a world fundamentally different than his. Rogues and loners lead chaotic lives, which lack the structure, consistency, and hierarchy native to clan cats. They are able to define themselves at a much freer pace, but they will never know what their next moon will entail. Here, it'll probably be warm, and there'll most likely be prey on the fresh-kill pile. Smogmaw's come to a point where he appreciates that option more than all else.

But to be able to define one's self however they so please, abide by whatever moral standard they ascribe to, and be answerable to no one except for themselves, Smogmaw fathoms the great appeal. How effortless it'd be for either Ferndance or Shrike to spew utter dross and weave an elaborate story around it. Their clanmates'd be compelled to believe it—absent of proper proof or reason to doubt it. This alone is a central factor in the deputy's unease with the newly-admitted ShadowClan cats. How can a listener tell fabricated narrative from transparent truths when the story is told the same?

Whether it's protective paternal instinct or a begrudging curiosity, the tom plods a hare's leap behind Halfpaw. He halts the same distance from the two clanmates sharing a meal. The dubious look worn initially melts into a dry chuckle after his daughter's remark, and a smirk manifests as he envisions Shrike and Ferndance old and decrepit, begging for a change in bedding. "I can see it," he meows, stepping closer. "It doesn't make much sense for a deer to just... lose its antlers. Maybe it got in a fight? I think six or seven of us could try hunting one down to see how easy it is." ​