PAFP Camp I DON'T BLAME YOU | dealings

[Magpiepaw ★]

He'll learn your face by heart

BUT YOU'LL BE IN BLACK & WHITE IN HIS EYES

He was acutely aware of his mentor's 'deal' of sorts with the cinnamon apprentice; everyone was really. Even Magpiepaw knew about how she had absolutely devastated the herb stock and while before he might have not given it much thought now he had the knowledge of its importance, of how difficult it was to keep those plants gathered and secure, maintained safely to be used in emergencies. What Fleapaw had done was nothing short of a death sentence, but truthfully he didn't like her being forced to replace them with no real understanding of what was necessary, what they looked like and how safely to harvest. Cicadabuzz had their methods and ways, he knew not to question his mentor but it was beginning to look like Fleapaw would be an elder by the time she had paid her debt and there was no rule stopping him from also benefiting from this arrangement. The black and white kitten stepped unsteadily forward, cutting off her path to the medicine cat den with wide violet eyes as he took in the clump of plant matter and dirt in her maw, "Those are weeds. Those are useless, you will dirty the den."
His tail flicked as he half turned to gaze inside, wondering if his mentor was present or out wandering the marshlands before honing back in on Fleapaw, "You do a poor job. You only make them angry. Bring me along and I will review your findings, I will check them first so you do not waste Cicadabuzz's time. "
While still learning uses and applications, he was familiar enough with the herbs currently in their stores to recognize potential and importance even if he was still struggling with a few of the names - his eyes would better note what was needed and more importantly he could get out and about the camp more often and easily if he could have accompaniment.
"...in return you can bring me treasure from the junkyards." Sparkling, shimmering, strange little bits and baubles, he wanted to go and collect them himself but he couldn't and it was terrible. "...or you can keep rolling in the dirt and continue to be eternally bound to herb gathering."

Ooc- @F l e a p a w

In the flick of a feather, he flies to your side

MAGPIEKIT

— kitten of shadowclan
— He/They
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— Solid black w/low white & blue-violet eyes.
— Has 'wobbly cat' syndrome.
#9272ee

 

[F l e a p a w]

-

Another day spent pulling thorns out of her paw pads and picking bitter plants that left her mouth tasting like shit. So it was real hard to imagine that some cats chose to do that stuff.

Fleapaw reeled back as a wriggling black mass stepped into her path—Magpiepaw. Cicadabuzz's know-it-all protégée who was—frankly—just as much of a weirdo as they were themselves.

The disheveled cinnamon apprentice peers past them into the medicine-den. Was Cicadabuzz out right now? Good. "Dammit…" She whips her head back and flings the weeds over her shoulder. She stares at him with weary eyes as he ruthlessly berates her. Weeds—useless—dirty. Like, wow, where did she ever hear that before?

The medicine-cat was just as critical in their assessment, but given the choice, she would prefer the chewing out to come from Magpiepaw rather than their mentor. The offer to help takes her by surprise too, until a catch is stitched on. Well, maybe she's glad for it. Better to know what she's getting herself into. "So lemme get this straight." Fleapaw sighs. "You'll help me get the right herbs if I get you... junk?" Yikes, he really was a weirdo… but Flea supposed she should've been the last one to judge. She liked strange crap too—bones—mainly bones. She still really missed that cat skull Timber tossed...

"Hmm that's a toughie, be enslaved to that freak for eternity or dig up junk for their shaky little henchman…" Fleapaw didn't know whether to be pissed off or just impressed. No surprise that Cicadabuzz picked them out of the ripe crop of clowns that made up their little circus.

He was right though. The herb search wasn't going any better for her than it usually did, and Flea didn't see that changing anytime soon. Truthfully, she'd already resigned herself to being indebted to bug-eyes till the day she died and probably after that too. "You already know my answer, but is Cicadabuzz gonna be cool with you helping me?" Not that Fleapaw cared what they thought. Cicadabuzz also told her she had to go it alone, but she'd taken some help. What they didn't know couldn't hurt.

And I'm not cool, and I'm not smart

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

And I can't even parallel park