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Post by Redpaw on May 27, 2023 7:22:07 GMT -6
 The marshes were warm with the sunlight that filtered through the tops of the trees, and there was little paws that bounded along through the wet ground with a fluffy tail sticking up straight behind them. They where a rather small feline, with rounded paws and a rounded face, and their red tabby coat was layered with mud from the marshy ground beneath them. They panted slightly in their excitement as they looked back for a ticked tabby coat, " C'mon Burn! You're so slow!" The crow was playful and filled with a giddy giggle in response to themselves. They had invited the rather grumpy apprentice out for a bit of hunting, but their expedition seemed to be lack luster as they were still empty-pawed. A green skinned being escaped white paws narrowly as the red tabby bounced forward after it before huffing as it slipped beneath some tightly wound roots. Emerald hues moved back towards the other figure that had been following them and they gave a smile, " Seems like these frogs are very slippery," They mused with a chuckle at their own lame joke. Redpaw then turned back to what was at paw, and crouched to the ground slightly in anticipation before leaping at a beetle that was crawling along the root of a tree. The young apprentice laughed loudly at the scramble of the bug and then let it go into the muddy ground without much more issue. Suppose they should check some where else for frogs? It would seem their area was empty now with their bashing around. Speechwordstagged |
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Post by burnishedpaw on May 28, 2023 16:31:47 GMT -6
by the cracks of the skin, i climbed to the top
i climbed the tree to see the world it was strange here. “c’mon, burn! you’re so slow!” tease peeking pink past their lips, the cat known to him as redpaw flashed a grin back at him. the sun was caught in their teeth, winking white and wild; their laughter climbed high to knot gold in the air. silly sun-sprite, all dewy doe-eyed innocence, all soft-sprawling limb and thumping rabbit-heart; light skipped in the watery swirls of their pelt, skimmed the careless, carefree cant of cotton-cloud tail as they bumbled bumblebee after frog. this was the sort that’d get eaten up quick back where he’d come from, their soft sweetmeat breast torn open to expose that red raw quiver of heart, chewed up and spat back out all black and filthy and worm-eaten, an apple hollowed at its core. tar would seep sticky between their teeth, pool behind that sweet-singing tongue so tender to mirth. their pelt would gleam with light nary more—instead, in their eyes bitterness would burn. burn; burn for burnished. burnished—ah, that was his name now, no? but this one called him burn. not burnishedpaw, no—he was stripped naked. he shuddered, skinned of his name. burn, nicking his name to nickname. burn. “seems like these frogs are very slippery,” chimed wind-chime the voice of the one he still followed. they were happy, and happy to show it—such was evident when they jabbed that silly joke at him and tossed themselves giggling after a beetle. why was he even here? he was dragged out of a nest lined downy with sleep, forced to come out here under the blistering sun. he could’ve dug his heels in, snapped his teeth. that twitching ear—a nick in that wouldn’t be hard to make, a nick for his nickname. besides, it’d teach them about the cruelties of life. life wasn’t all open paws and mouths laughing wide open welcome. it was never that. “slow?” he trilled, drew the sound out thin between his teeth. “my dear fellow, slow is a concept unknown to me. why! the sinuous strike of the darting serpent, the fleeting flight of the dancing hare—such is embodied within my stride, my stride that divests time of its wings and drinks it dry of its vitality. whhyyyy, i am time itself, given a novel and improved form—” he halted. flicked back his memory to a few heartbeats prior, a moon, two moons. two moons back, he’d spied cats picking at wriggling black. he never was brave enough to chance the half-rotted, ribs wrenched ajar like gaping teeth, flies bristling along sunken, shrunken sides like disease. he saw the squirm of off-white sickling flesh and fled. hunger could gnaw his flanks a while longer; he’d lose all the meat in his belly if his teeth cracked dry over shell. picky, they’d used to call him, shaking their heads, eyes shadowed in twilights of disappointment. picky, picky. you won’t last long, akakios. not in the wild, not like this. us rogues must eat what we get. we can’t afford to choose, akakios. we’re not like colony cats, cats who live off each other and the fat of the land. these lands are plucked dry, stripped to the bone; and we are alone. you too shall be alone one day. we cannot sustain you forever. learn to eat everything, akakios. you’ve no other choice.two moons back, he’d drunk from rivers slopping thick. the taste of dirt still clung to his tongue. “f-frog,” he said, falteringly. his heart thudded in his chest; his paws rapped against the peat. “ah, er, redpaw, was it?” a snatch of breath: “redpaw, dearest redpaw! refulgent redpaw! resplendent redpaw! sun in your skip as it is in your smile! i understand that you must be... a tad excited for our outing…” the cats he was used to had holes for eyes, their smiles like skeleton leers. that was what hunger did to you—it gouged out your eyes and clawed chasms between your ribs. but these cats, these eventide cats, these eventide cats with their heads swimming in star-shine and their dreams constellating in their eyes—they tipped their chins back and let you slit their throats. you didn’t see dreams glimmer like this, rope in great glittering knots in milky streams like stars at night. you just saw weariness smearing muddy beneath eyes, carving at the bliss-fat in cheeks; and watched hope quietly strangle itself, neck wrung in strings of dimming stars, as they scowled and moved on. perhaps it was the abundance of prey—he’d never seen rabbits plumper, mice fatter, flanks fed flush on the sweet green grass that crisps these meadows. perhaps it was the air, fine and fresh and flowing with redolence, fluty notes of water-vole. perhaps it was the companionship slung around the shoulders of these cats like the slap of tail against flank rippling laughter. whatever it was, he’d never been safer, warmer, more well-fed than this. he still wasn't sure if he’d stay. “but. frog. hunting? i mean, they can’t be all that appetising, right?” finally, he’d caught up—flanks heaving their fatigue, burnishedpaw trotted forwards with lolling grin and swaying tail. these cats were more lenient when you approached them with smiles—growls and grumbles did little here. “surely an individual possessed of a palate as…” tongue pressed between teeth with a click and a hum, “celebrated as yours must agree?” |
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Post by Redpaw on May 28, 2023 17:57:13 GMT -6
The young apprentice laughed at the other with a loud sound, and playfully swatted at the toms' tail as they moved away from them with something about a too defined of a palette for frogs, " I mean we don't have to eat 'em of course, we can just play with them," Redpaw offered instead of them catching them for food. Frogs were a little stringy with little meat on their bones, but it also was just fun to chase them down into the mud! Wasn't Burnishedpaw having fun? The red tabby cat looked up at the taller apprentice rather curiously before looking around for a moment, " We could also do something else! I know frog hunting is- harder to do when the ground is wet...which it always is- but thats besides the point!" Redpaw rambled onwards about the idea of something different to do. The young cat had been born outside the clan and brought in as kitten, but they had known Burnishedpaw for a while now. Or well knew of him more than knew him as he had come to the clan no more than two moons ago, and Burnishedpaw wasn't one to talk about themselves. Redpaw had been nothing but a wriggling bean when he came to the clans and was taken in by Shiningdusk. She passed of age a while ago now and he sorta missed her sorta didn't. It wasn't like they had been close like most children are to parental figures. She had been older, sickly, and had just had kittens that passed themselves. Redpaw was just sorta there so he wouldn't die, they never bonded or nothing. He kinda wished they had, but also at the same time- what was the point? She passed away shortly before his fourth moon birthday. " Maybe we could go do some training or something? I know I could use battle practice!" Redpaw crouched playfully with a smile before bounding forward a few paces towards the ticked tabby apprentice. Speechwordstagged |
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