YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES — prompt

[COYOTEBITE]

Her exhaustion mixed with the pangs of hunger had caused her to pay less attention to her surroundings recently. What should have been quite obvious to her this morning unfortunately was not, and would set the tone for the remainder of her day. Unknown to her, the kits had been playing the night before, mixing together a combination of ingredients to make themselves a poultice, pretending to be medicine cats and leaders themselves. Unfortunately for Coyotebite, they happened to leave the mixture right in her direct path to the fresh-kill pile that morning. "For StarClan's sake!" Cursing to herself, she raised a paw as she watched the mixture of mud and leaves fall from her paws into a soupy mess inside camp. Fur prickling with aggravation, she hoped that the kits responsible would soon enough show their tails so she could make them clean it up. Should another warrior fall victim to the mess, she'd be unable to stop herself from laughing at them falling into the same misfortunate as she had.

// prompt: fallen leaves mixed with mud
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[nightbird]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ nightbird had nearly tripped over the playing kits the night before, and although she wasn't too sure what they had been up to at the moment it was quite clear now. mud and leaves mimicked herb poultices she had grown familiar of. stars, she hoped they hadn't been chewing them like berryheart did.

kitten spit or lack thereof, coyotebite found herself victim to the leftovers. cursing as wet mud and crushed leaves fell from a raised paw. the lead warrior sidestepped the mess, as much as coyotebite's brought an amused grin to her maw she was not keen on finding herself in the same position. "how unfortunate is that," she mused, tail sweeping as she lifted a clean paw to drag over her ear. "don't worry though, it's a good look for you. let me know if you need help covering the rest of your pelt." dangerously, a white paw hovered over a patch of mud just to show how committed she was to making sure coyotebite looked her absolute best.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎┌── OH, I'LL CUT YOU DOWN ⋅⋆⋅ FOR I KNOW YOU ARE WEAK ──┐‎

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  NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, twenty-eight moons.
  ⭃ a small black smoke molly with a single white paw and pale silver eyes.
  ⭃ mate to raccoonstripe / / mentor to tba
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Marigoldpaw]

Marigoldpaw was more playful when he was younger, though he still spent most of his time in the nursery. Even as he gained more freedom with age, he still preferred to keep to himself most of the time, or hang around elder cats. Playing games could be fun, but he found that unless someone older was present, he couldn’t enjoy himself fully. Maybe it’s because they tend to be more patient with him, or he just doesn’t understand others, so finding the comfort of someone you look up to was a given. Not that it matters much now, as he’s too old for that.

His point is reaffirmed as he furthers his way in the camp towards the fresh-kill pile, and sees both Coyotebite and Nightbird caked in mud with leaves mixed in. It’s obviously a concoction that some kits made in their free time, and he doesn’t get the appeal in the slightest. Pretend to be a medicine cat another way… Well, at least it was only their paws that were coated, and they got some slight amusement out of it. “Better Coyotebite than either of us. Maybe it would look nice when it dries,” Marigoldpaw taunts, a sly smile following for a brief moment. “But really, you two should go clean that off.”​

 

[WHITELION]

make peace with your broken pieces .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It seemed no one was safe, having witnessed the sight of Spiderlily muttering mischievously if some pour being had fallen victim to the kit’s poultice. He had scolded the other for such a thought, but amusement bled through his tone. “It seems I owe Spiderlily.” He mused, shaking his helm with a light-hearted chuckle. He had spoken then, betting on clanmates, but even he couldn’t help but find it amusing. “A few strokes of wet moss are wonderful in getting the grime out of one’s fur.” He commented. “If Nightbird does not add more, of course.” He glanced at the other.
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thought speech​