Open The Farm You always said how you loved dogs - protecting the pasture

[Dusty]

✯

indent Dusty enjoys these late afternoon walks though the far pasture. They serve a practical use, of course. Ensuring the property is free of intruders and interlopers does a good deal to soothe Dusty's nervous mind. But enjoying the atmosphere of the evening is a rewards in and of itself.

indentIn the winter, of course, it's a bit less pleasant. The sun goes down early, so the walk is made under the cover of inky darkness instead of soft twilight. With no sun to warm them, the fields are struck with an intense chill, the chirruping of bugs and frogs replaced with the howl of the wind. Usually, Dusty would make her walks this time of year a bit shorter, not wanting to risk frostbite, but tonight she's spurred on by an anxious knot in the back of her mind. It's too cold for me to smell, but im sure there's something out here.

indent It's not until she's a ways from the main barn that her worst fears are realized. Even against the sting of the cold, the scent is unmistakable. There's a dog out here. It's not one of the affable barn dogs either. The shadowy silhouette in the distance is small, not much bigger than a cat, but it makes Dusty's fur stand on end anyways.
"Go on, get! You'll pack up and leave if you know what's good for you!" Dusty hisses. If she's lucky, she can scare off the assailant without a fight.

indentThe bark she receives in response dashes all her hopes. The dog begins dashing towards her, muscles stiff with predatory intent. Fuck.

"Dog, there's a dog out here!" She hollers, praying to whatever lies beyond that there's someone else within earshot. There's no way she'd be able to shake of the assailant without help. Despite her best efforts to evade, the dog manages to catch up with her, ramming it's shoulder into her. "I could use some help out here!"

 

[BUCK]

"Dog, there's a dog out here!"

Never a tom who remained stationary in the barn all day, typically a presence who could be located anywhere around the farm, Buck happens to be within earshot of Dusty. Ringing out even louder in the crisp, evening air is that of a mongrel — an angry, slobbering beast who was not a resident of the Horseplace. The workfolk's dogs were pebble-brained but they would never go howlin' and chargin' mad at one of the barn cats. This was a stranger, a threat.

It would be a lie to say that Buck was fearless, even if it seemed like it. He often faced danger head-on, often recklessly and without a care, but raw terror still coursed through his veins and spiked his adrenaline all the same. The tomcat's philosophy was simply to confront his fears, not avoid them.

He'd gladly jump into the fray and tussle if it meant that his fellow mousers would get out of this fight alive.

In the nick of time, the rugged chocolate tabby comes racing right for the mutt. It's nearly gotten Daisy, snapping its drooling jaws with a feral bloodlust. "Over here, shitbreath!" Buck hollers, springing off his hind legs and aiming to hook his arms around the dog's backside. He sank ivory daggers into its skin, dragging them down and hopefully offering a momentary distraction before he jumped off and landed opposite Daisy. "That's right, eyes on me!" The loner snarls, a rare ferocity gleaming in his molten orange hues as he keeps light on his paws, backing up in an attempt to create distance.

Where was some backup when they needed it? This mongrel needed to be driven off quickly!

𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ✹ . + ˚ · 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒

• 

• 

  — buck / 26 moons / he/him pronouns
  — loner / barncat
  — sh chocolate tabby w/ orange eyes, bite marks on left foreleg, nick in left ear & scratch on right side of lip
  — click for tags

​

​

 

[Swiftwatcher]

SWIFT OF THE BARN

Ear flicking at the alarmed cry, Swift's head shot up, worry tightening in his chest. That was Dusty, and she was screaming about a dog. Panic surged through him as he bolted upright, his sharp eyes darting toward the barn. Where was Sweet? Hornet? Honey? His fur bristled, fear and determination mingling as he dashed forward, away from his place of rest, heading straight for the source of the commotion. The barking grew louder, closer, fueling his urgency.

His gaze locked on Dusty, wide-eyed and panicked. And then there was Buck, already charging into the fray, fearlessly closing the distance between himself and the dog. Swift's ears flattened against his head as he pushed himself to move faster, determination driving him to intervene. Leaping into the dog's proximity, he landed just shy of his mark as the dog made a sharp, unexpected turn.

A sudden snap was followed by a sharp jolt of pain shooting through his tail. A startled yowl escaped him as he spun, lashing out instinctively. But before his claws could find their mark, the dog whipped around, its beady eyes locking onto the three cats now standing against it.

" Off! Off you go, blundering buffoon! " Swift hissed, his fur fluffed to twice its size as he faced the canine. His eyes blazed with defiance despite the throbbing in his tail, his stance firm and unyielding. The barn and his family were behind him, and he'd be damned if he let this dog anywhere near them.

I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I'll be the bright, in black that's making you run

 

[scamp]

Unable to find a playmate, Scamp was stuck entertaining herself for the afternoon. With the sun having already abandoned its post for the day, she knew better than to roam too far from the familiar area surrounding the main barn, lest she draw the ire of the older mousers and their stern scoldings. Scamp settled for a precarious game of balancing on one of the crumbling fences, each gnarl and gap in the wood challenging for her still-developing reflexes.

Tail straight back and ears pressed low, Scamp's entire focus narrowed to the cautious press of each step taken. Dusty's shout, loud and urgent, shook the kitten's attention immediately. Scamp lurched, paw missing its intended destination. She fell ungracefully, the bottom of her chin smacking a lower slab of wood on the fence before she reached the ground as a heap of gangly kitten limbs and dark fur. Warm iron bloomed in her mouth, her tongue a casualty of her unplanned tumble.

Spitting out blood, Scamp didn't let injury deter her as she took off, a mottled meteor speeding towards the barn. "Dog!" Despite her wounded tongue, the kitten's shout was loud, breaking through the late afternoon quiet blanketing the barn. Dodging rusty buckets and abandoned tools, Scamp kept up a steady chant as she raced into the old wooden structure. "Dog, dog, dog, dog!"

It wasn't the first time the kitten had been present for an errant canine. The mousers kept a watchful eye on the younger barn cats, ensuring they were prepared for the unusual occasion where a neighboring farm's creatures dared to wander too close. The importance of running straight home and spreading the warning had been firmly impressed in Scamp's mind. Finally clearing the threshold, Scamp went straight for the loft ladder, scrambling up a few wooden rungs before taking her perch. Panting, Scamp surveyed the barn with wide olive eyes. Was anyone else around to help Dusty outside?

___________________too many rules ⋅˚˖𓍢ִ໋ i'm too curious___________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• SCAMP sher/her, barn kitten, four moons.
  ⸙ shorthaired smoke torbie, olive green eyes
  ⸙ copper character

 

[Dusty]

✯

indent Dusty is knocked to the ground by the impact with the dog. The snow softens her landing, keeps her from getting hurt, but it also makes it harder for her to get back up on her paws. As she desperately tries to regain her footing, she sees Buck arrive, latching onto the dog's back and distracting it before it can land a devastating blow on the now vulnerable Dusty. Swift darts in soon after, striking towards the dog and getting his tail bitten on for his trouble. Dusty is overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the two tomcats. If she was left to fight on her own, she surely would have died, meeting her end as this mongrel's plaything. With the extra help, they at least had a fighting chance.

indent But more help meant more risk, too. It's not just her own life she's fighting to defend, anymore. Buck and Swift had risked their hides to save hers, and she's not about to sit still without repaying the favor. Leaping back into the action, she moves to flank the dog. If she can get it to turn it's back on the tomcats, they would be left with an opening to attack.
"Come and get me, idiot! Face to face!" Raking her claws down the dog's shoulder as she passes, she manages to catch it's attention and turn it away from Buck and Swift. Dusty stands her ground, puffing up and hissing to keep the focus on her. Attaboy. Now I just need for the others to follow through!

✯

 

[cowboy]

(★) the rallying cry of scamp reaches cowboy's old ears and he gets to his paws, quite spry for the old man he paints himself to be. "keep yer friends away, kiddo," he tells the young cat before scrambling past him and down the ladder, claws out and tail held high. pounding out into the afternoon sun, the man finds the action quickly, dual-hued gaze locking on the familiar shape of his granddaughter as she fluffs up her fur, squaring up to the hound with buck and swift in tow. "dusty…" cowboy grumbles under his breath, gritting yellowed teeth as he sprints towards the commotion.

the dog snarls at the cat, slavering jaws open wide. usually, the presence of a farmdog is not a problem - the twolegs of the horseplace train their beasts well to leave the mousers be. this one must be young, new, or stupid. "idiot beast!" cowboy growls out, an orange and white blur as he hurdles over the fence, joining his earthen granddaughter in her face off. dusty lashes out, claws hooking into the creature's shoulder. it turns to confront her and cowboy is there, claws flashing in the dull sunlight, raking over its ugly muzzle.

DEEP GREENS AND BLUES ★ ARE THE COLORS I CHOOSE

• // " #6c8886"
• 
• COWBOY ★ HE / HIM, BARNCAT. 100 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  an orange tabby tom with low white and one gold eye, and one blue eye. short silky fur reminisces flame and rye, darker ginger tabby stripes slicing through the lighter tone. splashes of white are strewn across his face and body, a snowbank covering the flaming base of his coat. his eyes are odd- one crystal blue, the other sunshine golden, peering with a slightly lopsided look.

​

 

[Merry]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

As usual, Merry lounged comfortably in the hay loft, sleeping off a good morning of mousing and checking over the barn. Half buried in a comfortable hole in the hay he'd dug out, it was cosy amidst the chill, and he was more than content. It seemed like it'd be a peaceful rest until a pained and repeated yowl and scratching of someone scrambling up the loft startled him awake; his eyes shot open, heart racing as he realised it was the tiny voice of a kit crying out about a dog. Jumping to his feet, he looked around and noticed the tiny smoke-coloured kit cowering and panting on the ladder. "Hey, hey lil buddy it's okay..." He comforted gently, bowing his head down, grabbing the kit by the scruff and lifting her up to the actual loft floor, placing her down and gently licking the top of her head, trying to comfort her; but quickly the bitter, coppery smell of blood wafted into his nose, cringing as he bent down to take a closer look at Scamp. He noticed the blood trickling down her mouth, humming sorrowfully for the kid. "Now that's gotta hurt... Don't you worry you're lil head now I'll help with that nasty mutt an' I'll get Sparrow to give you a paw with that bleedin'. You stay up here 'til I come give the all clear, you hear now?" He spoke softly, making sure the kitten knew the severity of the situation.

With a shuddering sigh, he walked from the kitten at a brisk pace; he could hear the commotion of yowling, hissing and barking from outside, putting a sickly feeling in his stomach. "Goldy's gonna have my head on a stick for gettin' in on this fight but I ain't lettin' my folk get hurt." His walk turned to a run, calling out for those who can't fight to hide, telling the kit and apprentices especially to go up the loft if they can. Before leaving the barn, he stumbled into Sparrow, who seemed to have just stirred awake from his own nap with that telltale yellow furball of a friend they kept around. "Now there ya are! Get up that loft with some cobwebs. There's a lil fella bleedin' something nasty. Maybe any other of yer fancy plants too, gonna be some blood for sure, and I'm not sure who's it's gonna be yet." Merry huffed, gently pressing his head against his smaller friend, "An' before you start yer grumbling I'll try an' come back in one piece.". He called out, running past Sparrow, flicking his tail.

As Merry finally broke free of the barn, the fight was more than in the swing of it. 'That's a helluva lotta blood...' He cringed as the smell wafted over him, seeing the beast staring down Dusty as the much older Cowboy launched into the fight. 'How that old feller got it in him still, I ain't got a clue, but I ain't gonna let him fight this thing on him lonesome.' Following suit, Merry raced to the fence, jumping up the fence, having to take a moment to ready himself, for how he prided himself in fighting, climbing never came naturally. Stalking along the side of the fence, following the beast as Cowboy clawed at its face, blindly stumbling towards Dusty, Merry's ears pinned back as he pushed himself from the fence and unsheathed his claws and latched onto the dog's upper hind leg. He let out a low growl as he made sure to rake his claws deep into the mutt's flesh, determined not to let go until it tried to run. That thing would have a hell of a time trying to launch another attack if it was tackled by multiple cats. He just hoped Swift and Buck would catch on soon and pile onto the thing, the cats out numbered this beast and it was their best shot to protecting the barn.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• ooc - @Sparrowpaw pspspspsp
• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat -> Future Skyclan Cat
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[Sparrowpaw]

———————————— The sun hesitates more on each evening's darkening ✦

For the bitter wind whistling through the barn that morning, Sparrow found solace in the warmth of a dear friend, bundled together in their corner on bedding Sparrow meticulously pieced together for him and Chick. When Sparrow managed to drift to sleep, Starling's bedding was empty, for wherever their sibling had found themself that day, he hoped they were safe. They were nervous, likely irrationally so, about the state of the few they held close. To the point they had started fiddling with plants and herbs around the barn, figuring out if some things helped with pain or maybe something to patch up scrapes. They weren't all too skilled, having some very basic plants they'd cobbled together the understanding of after asking around the older cats, most of which told them they were fretting too much, if anything bad were to happen the twolegs would help them. 'We barn cats are strong.' they always said, but Sparrow couldn't trust their words; there was always a nauseating fear of being useless if something were ever to happen, especially to those close to them.

That's why when stirring awake to the muffled sounds of yowling and... Sparrow startled upright, amber eyes wide with fear. He cringed as Chick stirred slightly but breathed a shaky sigh as he remained in his slumber. Starling's bed remained empty from before they fell asleep and that aggravated the fear pitted into their stomach. With careful paws, they left the secluded corner his circle called their home, ears pinning back as the sounds of a scuffle grew louder, heart thumping even with sleep still heavy in their mind. Which was startled from them further as the cinnamon and gold blur came into view.

"Merry?" they began, before getting interrupted by the older cat, half-barking orders, it took a moment to register that there was an injured kit around, their eyes widening. This wasn't some cruel dream. Sparrow felt panic weaken his paws, but with a gentle bonk from Merry with a reassuring smile, they nodded and slipped back to their den. Grabbing some moss and the tiny bundle of poppy seeds they'd collected; cobwebs were abundant in the loft so it wouldn't be hard to grab any for bleeding. He was grateful in that moment Chick's fur blended in with the hay, if that mutt out there got into the barn he'd be safe, at least that's what they were telling themself to avoid panicking too hard.

With everything they'd need grabbed between their teeth, Sparrow skittered to the loft ladder, they were never use to climbing up here, opting to stay on ground level, but if a kit could then they sure as hell could too. It was a struggle, and they really hoped no one saw them, but they made it up the ladder in one piece. Looking around, they spotted the little thing shaking with a thin rivulet of blood dripping down her chin. He sighed, grateful it seemed like it was probably only minor, but at least the kit could use some water to rinse out their mouth and a little company after the . Trying to keep calm, they walked to the side of the kit and, much like how Merry did, pressed their forehead gently against the kit. "How you feelin'? Scamp if I'm rememberin' right?" He picked up some of the moss and placed it in front of the kit. "That blood ain't gonna taste too good now, is it? Clean ya muzzle off. Just ya mouth you hurt or anythin' else I gotta worry 'bout?" Sparrow purred, trying to remain calm as if he wasn't nervously scanning Scamp to make sure she wasn't hiding anything.

——— Like grief and sweet memory,

Wildflower and barley. ———

• 
  Sparrow(paw)
  ✦—Barncat -> Future Skyclan Apprentice
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A longhaired tortoiseshell with amber eyes and protruding canines.
  #bf4916

 

[Flicker]

She wakes with a terrible start. Fur on end and a shuddering pit in her stomach, Flicker flares to her paws, ears twitching as she gazes around. A ferocious sound carries in on the wind, faint but clearly present. Snarling. Howling. Dog. Dog. There was a dog outside. Not incoming, not close. But close enough. Her chest was burning, and Flicker forced herself to exhale, hard. I need... I need to... Her instincts were all jumbled, fighting one another as she fumbled down from her perch. She landed rigidly, jarring her shoulders. Her muscles were clenched so tightly she couldn't even wince. It's fighting. How many? How many... of us are out there?

Did they need help? Surely they must, it was a dog. For all her moons as a loner with her family, Flicker had little experience in a fight, and none with anything the size of a canine. Where's Goldy? Does he know what's going on? The calico wasn't sure which outcome she preferred. A sudden chant pierced the air, pitched high with a kitten's shriek. Flicker felt the air freezing in her lungs once more until she saw the child rocket into the barn. She was yelling a warning, not a final cry. Scamp was intent on her mission, darting past Flicker and up the loft ladder without hesitation. The sight of her broke the older molly out of her paralysis a second time, choking out another breath as she followed Scamp up to the loft.

Merry was there, looking startled but ever calmer than Flicker felt. His words blurred in her frazzled mind, but she caught Sparrow's name. Then the tom was off, leaping gracefully down and disappearing toward the commotion. A copper tang stung Flicker's nose, and when she glanced down at scamp to get a better look she noticed the blood. The poor thing hadn't made it back to the barn completely unharmed.
"Merry- Merry's right, you know. It's okay. The rest of them won't let that creature anywhere near the barn," she meowed, hoping to soothe herself as much as the kit. When Sparrow arrived she took a small step back. Slowly her thoughts were beginning to settle, enough to realize where she should be. I should be with Merry. An' the others. I should make sure all the kits around here are safe and in the loft. An' then I should be out there.

A tremor had infected Flicker's muscles now. The stress of remaining endlessly tense was getting painful. She tried to relax, to shake out the tension even as her body screamed that it was her lifeline. She looked out beyond the barn, hearing the chaos whisper beyond. The calico was dead certain she was going to throw up. I... I can't. I can't go. Fighting when danger came upon you out of nowhere was one thing. Never in her life had Flicker gone toward a known danger. She looked back to Scamp, tenderly treated by young Sparrow. Her ears twitched as the rest of the barn grew alive, youngsters hauling themselves up to safety, some of them calling nervously for their family members. For the first time that day, Flicker felt something other than cold fear gathering in her chest. I can't go to them. But... I can stay here. If the worst happens, I'll be here. With the fire of a purpose greater than herself kindling some warmth into her body, Flicker turned back toward Scamp and Sparrow.
"If there's anything more you need, you tell me an' I'll get it," she mewed to the young healer. To Scamp she blinked softly with kind, determined eyes. "We're safe here. The dog won't get anywhere close."

 

[Swiftwatcher]

SWIFT OF THE BARN

" Attagirl… " Swift nodded in approval as Dusty drew the yapper's attention. Small but mighty, these cursed creatures... They were loud as thunder and just as relentless. Their bark could rattle bones, but their teeth were worse if one asked him.

A low growl rumbled in his throat, but he lashed his tail, forcing himself to stay focused. His tail throbbed where the dog had landed a hit, but he ignored it. More cats were arriving now, alerted by the sharp cries of a fleeing kit, Scamp, if he recalled correctly. The little one had done well. With Cowboy and Merry joining the fray, the odds were now stacked in their favor. If the mutt had any sense, it would cut its losses and run. If not… well, that was its own mistake.

As Merry lunged, sinking his claws deep into the dog's flesh, Swift bared his teeth and darted forward. Merry's jaws clamped onto the dog's hindleg, tearing into it, and the yapping turned sharper, more panicked now.

Good.

One more push, and this beast would tuck its tail and flee. And if it had any shred of wisdom, it wouldn't return.

I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I'll be the bright, in black that's making you run

 

[Sparrowpaw]

———————————— The sun hesitates more on each evening's darkening ✦

Sparrow was a little embarrassed to have not noticed the molly at Scamp's side, Flicker if they recalled. They were focused on checking over the poor kit, reassured it was nothing more than a flesh wound of their tongue. 'Prolly chomped down on it in the scuffle, poor lil thing.' They wondered to themself, but out the corner of their eye, they noticed Flicker, body quaking as she glanced between them and the door, probably just as shaken by the dog. They couldn't blame her; it's one thing being those blindly self-sacrificial cats ready to jump on a slobbering mutt to save the rest of them; it was another when cats like the three of them were defenceless. Sparrow was never all too good in a fight; sparring with cats his age never went well, and they always felt embarrassed for it. It's why mousing and learning plants was their go-to instead, opting out of play fights for their own sake.

But instead of lamenting their own woes, Sparrow gently headbutted Flicker's side, a kind gesture not often seen from the reserved tom, a comforting gesture. "Thank ya' plenty, 'm not sure if we're gonna need much else. 'm hopin' those lot-" He jerked his head to motion to the open barn door, where the barking grew more frantic, panicked. "I mean sounds like they got everythin' under control, might need more cobwebs but 'm hopin' they're all gonna come back in one piece.".

Sparrow hummed for a moment, thinking how many times Merry or Goldy or any of the older clan cats had come to save everyone's hinds from all sorts of goings on around these parts. Merry had gotten them out of more than one out-of-hand spar, so they continued, quiet but almost content. "Best we can do when we can't be parta the fight is give a helpin' paw to those who can." They shrugged, gently and affectionately ruffling Scamp's head, too, trying to keep the mood light even in a dire situation. "I think we're doin' a mighty fine job holdin' down the fort in the meanwhile." Sparrow nodded, like they'd managed to convince themself as much was the truth, and maybe it really was.

——— Like grief and sweet memory,

Wildflower and barley. ———

• 
  Sparrow(paw)
  ✦—Barncat -> Future Skyclan Apprentice
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A longhaired tortoiseshell with amber eyes and protruding canines.
  #bf4916

 

[Dusty]

✯

indent When Dusty swings around to face the dog, she isn't expecting to see Cowboy there with her. After she taunts the dog, she looks towards her grandfather.
"Peepaw!" She cries, usually confident voice belying the underlying panic. This is no place for an old cat! He'll get himself mauled! Dusty is unable to scold Cowboy before the dog is yipping in pain. Merry and Sparrow had taken the opening she made, clinging to the beast's back and biting at it's legs.

indentNow is the time! So long as the thing's eyes are off me... Dusty's eyes once again slide towards her grandfather. The dog's attention is mostly pinned on him, for the time being. It would be the perfect opportunity for Dusty to sneak in a last finishing blow, but she's hesitant to leave Cowboy to fend for himself.
Head in the game, girl! The longer this fight goes on, the bigger the chance is someone gets hurt. Lets get this over with! Shaking off her doubts, Dusty quickly slips out of the dog's line of sight, only to emerge from his blind spot and latch onto his neck with a crushing bite. It's not nearly enough to kill, but it sends a strong message. The dog flails, quickly throwing off the cats attacking it. With it's tail between it's legs, it flees out towards the far pasture, to back wherever it came from.

indentDusty takes a moment to catch her breath. Had anyone been injured? She moves to step towards the others, but is rewarded with a sharp pain in her shoulder. Right, she had been injured. "Damn dog." Dusty hisses. "Musta tweaked somethin' when he knocked me over." A small injury, all things considered. They had been let off easily, this time.

✯

 

[Merry]

—————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

With a hard thump, Merry landed on the floor as the dog tossed the yowling cats off of it. Dusty had launched a hell of an attack on the beast, and it finally relented. He had left their home alone once and for all, he hoped. He dragged himself to his paws, breathing heavily; the metallic tang of blood laced his lips, licking it away. Merry couldn't tell who it was, the beasts or his own, from landing hard and nipping his own tongue, 'Lil' scamp probably did the same.' He hummed; thankfully, Sparrow and the other cats still in the barn would have that covered.

Speaking of, Merry's gaze scanned the cats; a small handful ran headfirst to the thing. He quickly noticed Dusty grimicing, that beast was trying to track her even in a blind rage, he cringed and hoped she wasn't too injured. He padded towards her and the other cats, speaking up. "Are y'all okay? No one's too hurt 'm hopin'?" He looked at Dusty specifically, watching her face as she tried to move. "Careful there, ya' need help back to the barn? Pretty sure Sparrow got some poppy seeds if that shoulder bothers ya' too much."

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat | 24 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46