Squishy icky yucky. At least if you went too deep into the mud. The area where Shrewstep stopped was pleasant enough to stand on however, carpeted as it was with nice, thick moss. Shadowclan moss was always thick on account of how moist the air was, but this area had a particularly fine color. Turning to face his new apprentice, he mewed This is Darkwater Mire! Kind of icky squishy if you go too far into the middle, but there're plenty of frogs around here if you fancy munching on a few of those! He wasn't a big frog guy himself, but he could see the appeal if you wanted something between fish and standard flesh.
Sometimes you'll see squirrels about, but you do want to be careful at night because a few owls live around the area. Now this might be a concern more for him than Shadepaw, given his small size, but an owl could definitely nab a small cat. A large enough one could probably swoop him away if he didn't kill it when it came down, and so large birds always gave him the willies. That wasn't how he wanted to die, no sirree. He was doing quite fine on the ground, thank you very much. Any questions? he inquired, before turning to trot towards Grotto. They could walk and talk. @snowflake.
Shadepaw Pure black pelt; dark mackerel markings; amber eyes
She/her || 6 moons || ShadowClan Apprentice Agatha Kitty - Silver Tongue - Shadow Fiend
Mentor: Shrewstep • Post Count: 8/100 • Profile • Bio
Icky squishy was an understatement. Shadepaw stepped over large wet patches and winced as her paws squelched in the mud. Honestly, why would Shadowclan decide to make their territory in the marshiest place? Ah well. She'd just have to get used to it. Thankfully, though, Shrewstep stopped in a fairly mossy area, free of wetness. She gazed at her surroundings with sharp eyes. She would see all of her territory, learn all of its strengths and weaknesses. She would become so familiar with it she could do almost anything in it. That was her goal. She would show Clovepool that this tour wasn't a waste of time, that it was useful. Shadepaw was determined to make the most out of this. It was difficult to impress her mother, she knew. But that wouldn't stop her from trying. She twisted one ear in the direction of her mentor, acknowledging his words. This part was good for squirrels. She turned to look back at Shrewstep, though, when he mentioned owls. She had heard tales about owls before. She'd have to be careful at night here. It seemed it was time to leave. She followed Shrewstep in silence, slightly behind him. Questions... She could ask questions, learn more about the territory. She didn't really have any questions, couldn't think of any. "I don't know," she muttered, traversing around a particularly large puddle.
letting silver eyes roam over the dead bird now that it was. well...dead. rookfire was busy taking in details, the lack of small dark feathers at the birds beak, the light grey to black transition at the tip of its beak, the slick look deep crimson blood was giving its blueish shining feathers, when roachflare suddenly appeared next to him, holding a mouse of all things, (what happened to the birds?) "oh hey look, its a rook, like you". not to say rookfire would let that stop him from attempting to flay and then eat the thing, but it did get him thinking. the cannibal, gone or still lingering amongst innocent clanmates, did they feel any conflict ever? did they never stop to think. never..question the urges? it wasnt like rookfire eating a rook, the rook was very clearly a bird whilst rookfire was supposed to eat birds, but two felines..one dying for food? well that was just wrong. not only, or rather, not specifically, because others said it was wrong, and theyd mourn their lost loved one, or else any fight theyd ever had would be immoral, which wouldnt and coulnt accept as such, every fight fought and every battle won was liberation, a necesarry step to ensure freedom and peace. there was nothing immoral in surviving. bloodthird, starclan had given them the need to sink claws into flesh, be that other cats or prey, and rookfire was not one to deny nature, though, if that nature meant killing those supposed to be allies and friends, it couldnt. it simply did not work. there could not be society without restraint, every win came with a lesser lose, at least one cat walks away from battle harmed and at least one cat has to supress society altering urges to thrive and survive in a concept of living that has presisted over the moons. it simply couldnt be wrong. it was meant to be. they were blessed by starclan, at least those who hadnt been fools in their living days. and they were supposed to survive. he was supposed to live not survive. riverclan had been surviving, shadowclan was living, and if it got to the point of a harsh winter, deceased clanmates and a lack of prey entirely, rookfire would not blame anyone for choosing survival instead of pointless death. replenish the living off the flesh of the dead instead of leaving their earthly bodies behind. it wasnt wrong. there were things rookfire could very much accept without feeling bad, without going against his own morals, and this very specific context of cannibalistic behaviour was one.
with his thoughts a bit more sorted and slowly bleeding into the pleasant buzz of everything else going on, rook nudged the dead bird into a better position, leaving it on its back, head back and wings spread out to the sides whilst heat bled from the body. he hadnt done all that much damage so..he could try flaying it. it sure wasnt a squirrel or looked similar to one but.. it was worth a try. though, specifically the wings were worrying him. how much flesh would there be within and how the hell was he supposed to get it out?
the throat sounded like the best spot to start so rookfire drew his claw along a high spot on the birds neck, drawing down to its right and left wing and attempting to pull the skin down as best he could. getting stuck pretty early on, the enforcer made the decision to make one cut from the birds lower stomach up to the throat one he had made, now able to open up its body enough to somehow, with a lot of aimless digging around and accidentally piercing skin, he managed to seperate muscle from skin for one of the rooks wings, before making one wrong move and having the thing fold in half, thin skin barely supported by feathers now decorated with a large tear.
the enforcer sighed, giving up on this fruitless endeavour and instead getting to gathering some of the rooks feathers to take instead. "didnt work all that well, lets eat" rookfire hummed, nodding towards the prey in an invitation for roachflare. he didnt like eating out of camp, but he didnt really have a choice this once, he could hardly bring back a half torn open bird to feed the clan, itd turn into crowfood before anyone got close to it. but it was nice at least, rookfire liked birdflesh, roachflare was pleasant company and the speckles of sun breaking through thick foliage warmed his pelt nicely.
Re: Darkwater Mire
