YOU CAN’T BUY THIS FINENESS ♕ prompt, dressing up

[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
Briarpaw had seen it before- cats decorating their pelts with oddities, feathers, petals, and twigs galore.
In truth, the apprentice had been tempted to do so once or twice herself, to add a fleck of spice amongst an otherwise bland appearance. Yet, despite the temptation, the adolescent often turned her nose up when given the opportunity- she was working hard to create a crystal-sharp image of herself, adorning her pristine coal pelt would only contradict all of her hard work.
Today’s patrol is weighed heavy by the presence of apprentices, her peers. Briarpaw doesn’t mind all that much, a deep and dark part of her actually enjoying listening in to the idle chatter of her denmates in comparison to the adults quietness.
Hey, look over here!
The chirp is enough to drag hazel hues from a wavering scent trail, a shiny bundle of light pink half-covered by swampland a big enough anomaly to draw her over.
The other apprentices prod at the strange material, its crinkling creating a sharp noise that prods obnoxiously at her ear drums.
"Look inside of it." She chimes half-mindedly, a forepaw reaching for the dirtied blooms that the pink stuff wrapped protectively around. Instinctively, Briarpaw looks upwards in search of where it could have come from. They were nearby the Thunderpath… perhaps a monster spit this out?
It was so beautiful, though.
When Briarpaw blinks back from her train of thought, the blossoms have all but been picked clean from their wrapping as apprentices began to weave them into their chest fur and behind their ears.
I heard Riverclanners do stuff like this to get all spiffy in new-leaf. One hums, placing a small bundle of white flowers behind their ear. Giggling at the unspoken implication behind their words.
Briarpaw’s head tilts, they did look quite nice with the blooms in their fur. Perhaps…
Before she can finish the thought, there is a snag behind one of her large ears. You try it, Briarpaw!
Instinctively, the apprentice hisses, only catching a splash of crimson before it is secured upon her head. Forcing herself to relax, Briarpaw lifts a forepaw to touch the soft petals, only grimacing for a moment before turning to the nearest apprentice.

"Well, how do I look?" Her words are dead-panned, her icy exterior refusing to thaw despite her genuine curiosity.

"speech"
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• a patrol stumbles upon an abandoned bouquet near the Thunderpath, most likely a soured Valentine’s Day gift. Feel free to be the apprentice that put the rose behind Briars ear / the one she turned to!
  
  Spoiler: prompt

  Many cats in ShadowClan like to collect odd baubles and some of these look nice tucked in fur, perhaps dressing yourself up a bit might get you more attention.

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[Sweetpaw]

————————————————————⊰ʚ･ɞ⊱————————————————————

Sweetpaw smells the flowers long before he hears the shrill cry signalling attention near where the scent was strongest, he bumbles along after the others though he makes sure to keep another apprentice between him and the nearby thunderpath just in case; although they have gotten very good at recognizing the difference in terrain and the sharp putrid and oily scent of the hard ground that rumbled with monster paws. His ears swivel as he listens to the others shuffle their paws and poke and prod at what was probably just a bunch of flowers as far as he could tell but the fluffy black apprentice couldn't be sure until he heard the faint giggling and whispers of 'here, put this on' and the spreading smell of the floral arrangement dispersing in various directions; his clanmates' distinct whiffs mingling with the aromatic aroma. To his surprise one of them even dares to attempt to drag Briarpaw into it judging by her unamused hiss and he shows his teeth in a grin as he creeps closer and nudges his nose into the remnants of the odd crinkling thing that held the flowers to begin with. A single one is picked between his teeth and he lifts it up to his head behind his ear; he can not tell what color it is or even if it matched his fur - maybe it looked ridiculous, but it smelled nice and that was enough.
How do I look? He hears his sister ask and not one to miss the opportunity to make the joke himself, he raises his head up in her general direction with a mischievous glint in his blind eyes, "I don't know." His voice bubbles like a gentle stream, "Probably wonderful though."

ʚɞ ･ﾟ･ sweet like honey - little yellow bees ʚɞ ｡･sweet honey nights & golden honey days

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  Sweetpaw
  —⊰⋅ Apprentice of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ They/Them
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH Solid black w/golden eyes (Is Blind)
  

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[SCREECHSTORM]

Screechpaw isn’t one to carry things other than mud — and maybe bugs — in his fur, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t entertained the idea of accessorizing before. There’s been plenty of times where he’s thought about weaving the feather tucked away in his nest somewhere in his fur. Probably at the base of his tail; he thinks his night-shaded treasure would look best there.

But anything past that, the tom thinks would look absurd on him. Some of his clanmates might be able to pull off the look of multiple accessories, of flowers twisted into fur as if they’d sprouted from the cat themself. But any of that on him? There’s not a chance he’d be able to walk through camp without a strange look or two sent his way.

The patrol’s discovery only stirs his curiosity further, a bundle of flowers tangled in something crinkly. He looks to Briarpaw and Sweetpaw as they near, as other apprentices surround the strange piece before them. Some move to weave the petals into their fur, but Screechpaw stands back, watching the scene unfold. It’s when they divert from decorating themselves and move on to Briarpaw that the tom moves forward with a snort to inspect his sister and the new accessory placed atop her head.

How do I look?

Pretty, almost. Though Screechpaw won’t admit it, the flower’s soft features bode almost well with the sharpness of his sister’s face. Sweetpaw is there to compliment her anyway, even in his lack of sight.

“ She looks stupid, “ the apprentice tells both of his siblings, though his words are weighted with teasing tones. He moves to the flowers next, scooping up a few in his maw before haphazardly placing them atop Briarpaw’s dark fur. “ You needed more. “

With a crooked smile on his face, he moves to place one on Sweetpaw next — though he knows his sibling won’t be able to see the flower, Screechpaw thinks he’ll appreciate the aroma clouded over him, the silky petals along his fur.

“ Perfect, “ he tells the blind apprentice, because the blossom fits him, just as it had his sister. He can admit it to Sweetpaw, at least. One more flower remains out of the ones he takes, and he hesitates, before moving to place it atop his own head. “ Now, what about me? How do we think I look? “​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  SCREECHKIT ‣ SCREECHPAW
  ── Apprentice of ShadowClan
  
  ── Forestshade x Vulturemask
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A black/red tabby chimera with mismatched green eyes.
  ── Mentored by Chilledstar
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

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[ASHENFALL]

˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 "Stupider than the other two, I think, but not awful." Ashenpaw pipes up his assessment of Screechpaw's appearance as he pads in to intrude on the cute family moment had by Forestshade's triplets. There was plenty of junk that spawned on the side of the Thunderpath, it was part of the reason why he detested patrolling it so much. But usually, there was nothing more interesting than a smushed-up and disgusting animal corpse to be poked at with sticks along the black path of death. This was perhaps one of the most pleasant things he'd ever seen crop up here, Briarpaw was quite the lucky duck.

"Maybe if we stick the petals to our noses it'll block the Thunderpath-stink..." He suggested idly, muzzle twitching unpleasantly at his verbal reminder of the sharp stench pervading his senses.

YOULL ASK WHAT CAN I DO? ⭒☽⛧☾⭒ AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw
  — ftm transmasc. he/him. 11mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
  — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
  — all ic opinions!
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — sig by nya, fullbody by antiigone, sticker by saturnid
  — penned by eezy
  

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[APPLEJAW]

Applepaw finds that she has paid her pears less and less attention as of late, more concerned with the future than she was with the present. Who would be left, by the time she reached warriorhood? There to stand by her side, when Chilledstar looks down upon her. There to join her on the outskirts of the warriors den, where she'd go from top of her rank to t he very bottom once again. She thinks that it'll be easier, if she does not pay so much attention now. If she does not look to keenly to the faces she grows up to, she may be less disappointed to not see them follow her into the warrior's den.

It's a call to attention, Briarpaw's word. One that she does not turn to with eagerness, but does not shy away from, either. She can do as she's told, even if what she's told is from a peer. Simply to look; simply to listen. Applepaw looks at Briarpaw for the first time in a little while. Last time, it had been to speak on the nature of fathers. That, she had not minded as much as she had expected to, and the same thing is true now.

" You look lovely, Briarpaw. " It surprises herself too. Maybe she felt like she needed a real answer, to top off Sweetpaw's I don't know, and Screechpaw's simultaneous tease.

It's extra, what Screechpaw does, and Applepaw watches his ministrations with an unimpressed look. Now, what about me?

Stupider than the other two... " Agreed, " she says plainly, when her brother chimes in. Maybe if we stick the petals to our noses it'll block the Thunderpath-stink... " Poor Sweetpaw would have only their ears left, " she comments.

one track mind, one track heart ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  
  

• SHE / HER

  APPLEPAW.
  ༊ APPRENTICED TO GRANITEPELT CHILLEDSTAR OF SHADOWCLAN.
  ༊ ELDEST SISTER TO SWANPAW, ASHENPAW, AND GARLICPAW ( halfpaw, thornpaw, laurelpaw )
  ༊ currently 10 moons old as of 2.12.24. ages every 17th.

  ic opinions! she's mean <3

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[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.

Her brothers replies to the half-sardonic prompt are just about predictable, Sweetpaw’s earning her blind sibling a soft bump with her forepaw against his shoulder, just before the raven apprentice is showered with more of the half-flattened blooms.
“Hey!” She grumbles, though her tone lacks the biting nature of a genuine protest as she’d aim to give Screechpaw a light shove, not bothering to conceal the amused roll of evergreen optics.
“You look like you’re ready to be the prettiest apprentice in the clan.” The elder sister snorts, half-heartedly giving her patchwork littermates flower a faux-swat.
Normally, she would refrain from such a playful display- but here they were, covered in bits of vibrant foliage and genuinely having fun- who would she be to not let herself enjoy it, at least a little bit?
Ashenpaws input does not go unnnoticed, but Briarpaw’s attention doesn’t fully turn to the other until he pitches his idea.
It’s smart, Briarpaw would give him that, but her luke-warm nature would only extend so far, and she offers a placant shrug.
You look lovely, Briarpaw.
The sound of Applepaw complimenting her earns an abrupt change of focus in the ebony adolescent, optics steadying on her denmate for a lingering heartbeat, looking for a sign of insincerity or mocking.
There is none, and Briarpaw looks away, back down towards what is left of the crumbled bouquet, caught off-guard by the stinging of flush that simmers under night-shaded fur. Hm.
“Thanks.” She finally chimes, lamely. Still recovering from her singular, fleeting moment of being caught by surprise, Briarpaw almost misses Applepaw’s last comment.
“Hey.” Not bringing her gaze back up to meet Applepaws, it is a merely ghost of a warning, only cued by the subtle flat-line of her tone. Singling her brother’s blindness out in what was merely light conversation, that was only permitted for Sweetpaw alone- or perhaps her reaction was simply an over-correction of her earlier falter. Nonetheless, Briarpaw wouldn’t hear any more of it.
"speech"
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