Honestly, what kind of sick joke is this? Snowpaw and Orangepaw leave his life at about the same time and it's the absolute worst of the two that has the gall to make it back. Peachpaw wonders if he's one of the only cats mourning someone's survival of the plague. Then he wonders how easy it'd be to go over and trip Orangepaw up.
Don't. He sniffs. It's not worth it. It's not and he knows it. It's just that he's particularly cold and in a particularly tight mood and Orangepaw is over there moving like he's Starclan's gift to the forest per usual and—
"Orangepaw." Ah, man, how did he get over here? Hadn't he been hating from a safe distance away just now? Peachpaw looks annoyed, both at himself and the ginger apprentice. What is this supposed to be, some kind of belated welcome back but please go actually die now type thing? Is it supposed to be anything at all? He'd moved over here without really thinking about it, but now that he's gone and opened his mouth he has no idea where to go with this. What had he been thinking?
He—
Oh.
"Did you ever...happen to see Snowpaw, much? When they took all the sick cats away?"
Orangepaw's ear twitched when he heard his name, turning his head to see...
Peachpaw.
He hasn't seen this guy in ages.
Not siiince... the apprentice den collapsed, if he remembers right.
Peachpaw asks about Snowpaw.
Hm.
He's actually... he doesn't know how to answer this, for once.
"I saw her around the last tike I saw you, so... no, I never spotted her at the sick camp, though if I did in the later part, I may not remember it too well." He kinda shrugged "Bumblestar didn't say she was one of the dead ones, though. Maybe she just... left? Or got lost? Probably something better then dead."
The way he said it made it sound like he cared less than he did.
He does care, but he doesn't spend too much time thinking about this stuff.
Mostly, he thinks about stuff related to himself, and he doesn't think that's bad, so he doesn't think the way he talks will be a problem.
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"when I'm big and strong, I'm going to be the best leader ever! or...was it the best warrior? yeah! i'll be the best of whatever I am!"
╔═══*｡❅*⋆⍋✧ ✦ ✧⍋⋆*❅｡*═══╗
Hollykit of Thunderclan (she)
7 moons old
╚═══*｡❅*⋆⍋✧ ✦ ✧⍋⋆*❅｡*═══╝
☾☽☾☽✿❀✿ she padded to a tree and huffed, sliding her claws out and jumping on it, she began to climb only to slide, she began training by herself...she was curious about climbing...as she got higher, she could see the top, the tree was on the very edge of the clearing, her eyes twinkled brightly as she got to the top and looked down. she squeaked when she saw how high she got. "oh- oh no- how- how do I get down...?!" she clung to the branch she had climbed on, her eyes widening in fear, how...why...when- "no no no..." she swallowed, looking around. how...how... she began to wail in fear, she wasn't sure what else to do... ✿❀✿☾☽☾☽
(open)
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please @ me when mentioning any of my cats or me please ^^
When was the last time she'd eaten? She didn't know anymore. Her stomach was cramping with the hunger, but between her not being able to keep prey down and the lack of prey that ThunderClan even had, she simply didn't eat. Her friend had been haunting her day in and day out, tormenting her with words of violence that she didn't know how to contain anymore. Some days she felt like the was foaming at the mouth just to sink her teeth or claws into something, and other days she was fine and could block it out. Today was not one of those good days though. She needed a distraction. She needed a way to get this itch of death away from her.
Treetiger was laying towards the side of the camp, digging her claws into the hard ground intermediately. Her empty gaze was fixated on a dark shadow looming not too far away from her. A shadow she knew her clanmates couldn't see. As long as she stared at it, it wouldn't get closer, though. She'd learned. She'd adapted. She stared at it. That same blank stare that creeped many cats out. One that she used on Spiderthroat to get his attention from time to time. Deep down she knew this entity was bad, but she didn't want to be alone anymore. It was her friend. She turned a blind eye to the toxic thoughts and actions it took to control her. This was her normal.
This was her friend.
While struggling to deal with her thoughts and friend, she left herself vulnerable to the clearing. To a kit, this was a prime target for hunting practice. Distracted and not moving. A twitching tail acting as bait. Treetiger would be unsuspecting.
Peachpaw's ears turn, angled back and dropping as his irritation mounts. Of course. He needs one thing from Orangepaw and the guy can't even manage that. He hardly even looks like he cares and it's so easy for Peachpaw to just decide that he doesn't. Even easier for him to recoil with a sour scoff, nose crinkling derisively
"Figures. She was sick, you know. And she liked you, she thought you were her friend. The least you could have done was look out for her."
His tone is low, venomous. In an awful way he's relieved; selfishly, Peachpaw knows he would have hated Orangepaw even more if the other tom had been looking out for Snowpaw the whole time. There's no way Orangepaw wins, here.
"And if she went missing with that sickness then she's probably dead by now. We just don't have a body to bury. Way to go, Orangepaw. Some friend you were to her."
Orangepaw's ears flatten as Peachpaw continues to speak.
So this is how this conversation is going to go. Great. Fantastic.
He can handle it.
"I am her friend." Orangepaw states firmly, trting not to show to much aggravation "Hard to look out for someone when I was delirious with that stupid disease the whole time. But what would you know about it? You were lucky enough to be perfectly healthy."
Now he was just trying to egg him on, Peachpaw had said something Orangepaw didn't like, so he was going to say things Peachpaw didn't like back.
He should probably walk away, like a smart cat would, but Orangepaw is... to prideful. "Do you doubt her so much that you think she's dead?"
Definitely a little far, but Orangepaw doesn't care how far his words go, because he has a tendency to think he's better than... well, everyone.
"I was lucky. What of it?" It's basic consideration for the dead that keeps him from voicing the cruelest little thought that occurrs to him, then—the impulse to sneer and insist, no, not lucky, just better than you. He wants to have another sharp edge to dig at Orangepaw with, but he's not about to risk his hide with a such a stupid statement. That he thinks it at all already has his ears hot.
"Yes! I do doubt her! Because I'm not an idiot! Really, Orangepaw, you think a cat could survive like that alone?" He snaps, nubbin tail twitching angrily. "I think the wrong apprentice went and got lost and died. If I were really lucky, it'd be you rotting Starclan-knows-where."
Cloudedpaw sat alone, in his usual grumpy mood. He tilted his head up, squinting as his amber eyes met the sun. Blech. He muttered, looking back down at his paws. When he looked up, he met the gaze of a ThunderClan warrior, Jayheart.
{ @Winterwatcherwof - Jayheart }
Orangepaw's expression is practically aghast.
The fact that someone hates him, especially this much is so shocking to Orangepaw.
Seriously, he could tell Peachpaw was always a little irritated with him, and he found it funny.
But with Peachpaw's words, the realization of just how much Peachpaw disliked him fully dawned on him.
Okay.
He can play this game.
The tabby quickly fixes his face, trying to hide the fact he was even shocked in the first place. "Well I'm so sorry that I got the cure while she vanished." Orangepaw said sarcastically "I'd be happy if she returned, but right now, she's not here. So you can get over it and stop throwing a kit-fit. I can't help the fact that I didn't go off and die like you want oh so terribly."
If Peachpaw hates him, he can handle it.
He'd much prefer to be adored by everyone, but he can handle being hated by one cat.
Even if it is a bit of a jab at his pride.
Re: ThunderClan Clearing
Re: ThunderClan Clearing
