all of a quiver [c]

The wounds from their tussle had already scabbed over by the time Nettleweaver guided Asmodeus to a more pleasant part of ShadowClan’s territory. He didn’t mind the marsh himself, but the hard pact dirt did make life easier, even he had to admit. “Better?” he asked, twirling to face the rogue. “ShadowClan isn’t all ugly.” he winked, bouncing along the usual pep in his step. Their fight was certainly nothing more than a dull ache, perhaps it would even be fully healed by tomorrow’s moonrise. A frown tugged at his maw, rogues weren’t welcome on ShadowClan territory, and while their encounter had been brief, Nettleweaver had greatly enjoyed his company. As his mismatched gaze flitted beneath the tree tops that frown only grew, the sickle of the moon was visible. His clanmates would be waking soon, perhaps already on patrol. Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hiding from nonexistent hail storms tonight.

dice roll bc i can’t leave this page and i’m not sure if this is required for a pre planned topic

The warrior sniffed the air, dreading the scent of home in the wind. Tonight it seemed Leopardstar and Sablestrike were feeling lax. Maybe they just didn’t want to over hunt a certain area. Whatever the case, Nettleweaver let out a happy chirrup at their negligence, now he could indulge himself more.

The member 'Midnee' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Invasion Dice' :

Asmodeus followed after his new friend, not minding the minor wounds left on him from their playful tussle earlier. He wanted to share in the love of Shadowclan's territory with Nettleweaver... but something about his paws slipping and sliding on the wet earth every few steps made it hard to do so. He was no Shadowclan cat, there was painfully obvious. It wasn't long before he purposefully stepped in higher parts of the ground, actively looking for something that might resemble tufts of grass among the mud and the fallen leaves from seasons passed.

"I'm sure it will be very lovely, where ever you're taking me. Whenever we get there." He said with another grunt as his paw slipped. How did anyone walk on this? Asmodeus nearly ran into Nettleweaver, having been paying such close attention to where his paws were going. It was then he realized, with a slightly disgusted expression, that Nettleweaver was talking about here.

If this is pretty to a Shadowclan cat... I dread the day I discover what is revolting to them. He kept that thought to himself at least. He spotted a root that formed a fork in the ground above the mud. He wasted no time stepping over to it and stood on it, thankful to feel at least something solid under his paws. "Well..." He said with a sigh of relief before his dark amber and bright yellow eye landed back on Nettleweaver. "I certainly enjoyed our game in the trash pile more, but if this is what makes you happy, I won't dampen the mood." He flashed a grin, though if this place got anymore damp it may as well have been the river.

Nettleweaver poured at the sour look on Asmodeus’ face, though he could hardly blame him. This place was less than ideal and as a cat that wasn’t of ShadowClan descent maybe he just didn’t appreciate it for what it was- mostly solid ground. His eyes swept over Asmodeus form apologetically, the rogue had managed to cake himself in at least half the mud the marsh contained. He’d heard the squelching noise of him struggling to pull his paws out from the vice like grip of the marsh, but he hadn’t realised how much of a struggle for the older cat it had been. For a cat with such a temperament, the white tom had figured he’d at least know a thing or two about navigating mud, alas he did not. “Do you want me to teach you to walk on the mud better?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow ”It is such a shame to see your beautiful covered in so much muck.”

the fluffy warrior smirked, feeling the tom’s eyes resting on his form. His teeth flashed as the smirk fell into a more genuine smile, matching the one Asmodeus had thrown him. “I find the smell of pine more pleasant than crowfood personally, but to each their own I suppose. Maybe next time -if there is one- you show me your favourite haunts. It’d be nice to see more than ShadowClan without breaking some sort of code.”

At the mention of being taught to walk in mud better, Asmodeus smiled slightly, thinking it was a joke or a tease. But no... Nettleweaver actually seemed serious. Once the realization hit him, Asmodeus nodded. "Definitely if there is a better way... I am willing to learn it. I'd hate to have to be moving quickly and snap an ankle in this." It was a genuine concern. Whatever he could learn from his Shadowclan buddy, he would put to good use. He'd be here often, more than likely. This was place, while the territory itself was not to his liking, was otherwise turning out to be interesting and fun.

"My favorite haunts? I haven't been here long, but the abandoned part of town is nice. I am still learning the area. As for where I came from originally..." He chuckled, a noise that hid his distaste for that place at this point. Too many cats knew him. He had too much of a reputation there to have any fun now. The same thing would happen to this place in time, but for now... he was just going to enjoy what it had to offer, be it killing or other kinds of enjoyment. "Not much to see."

“Well, I’ll just have to come and find you when i feel like a tour… Perhaps we can have a rematch?” crooned Nettleweaver, idly circling Asmodeus. He paused for a moment in thought, imagination wondering. He was so caught up in his games that he nearly missed the fact the rogue wasn’t actually from anywhere near here. He must have met so many different cats, found out so much. Asmodeus was a plethora of secrets right for the plucking, he just had to crank him open. The white tom’s gaze drifted back to him. “So, you’re not from round here? I suppose that explains somethings, must have been a lot less boggy around those parts.” he took several paces back, towards the less solid parts of the territory “Okay, now pay attention, Asmodeus.”

Nettleweaver stood on the marsh, pushing down on it, letting himself sink slightly. He was already beginning to have regrets, but his pelt was already filthy enough from their prior tussle- what was some mud? “When you’re on the mud you need to be weightless. Stomping around only sucks you in.” mewed the warrior, wading around uncomfortably for effect. He pulled his paws free, the mud releasing them unhappily. Carefully, he readjusted his position, making his stance smaller and spreading his paws out wide. His actions were slow and deliberate so that Asmodeus could see what he was doing, normally this was second nature to Nettleweaver. “Make yourself smaller, keep your paws flat and disperse the pressure. When I watch you walk you take long, heavy, measured strides. It is how you would walk anywhere else, but the marsh demands a short pace.” To prove his words, he began to pace back and forth before returning back to solid ground. “You try it now.”