The black and white tom shifted, stretching himself up and sitting across from Newtbelly to meet his gaze. Owlthroat’s ears tipped slightly back, flicking. He thought carefully before he spoke, picking and choosing the right way to phrase his mind. Tensions were high, it wouldn’t be good to frighten the tail off of Newbelly when there was stuff to get done. He needed his prodigy ready and amped to perform. He wasn’t even sure if that was in his former apprentice’s nature.
”Boring, but we do what needs to be done”, he huffed loosely. His thoughts were drifting about in his head like clouds, morning pondering always seemed to infect his brain. ”These walls aren’t for nothing Newtbelly, steady yourself”, he could sense the tortoiseshells awkwardness in the way he shuffled in his seat. The bulky tom went silent for a moment more, hesitating again, a long pregnant pause.
”I want you watching my back when the storm hits”, it was thrown out aggressively as a command. His deluded mind elevated Newtbelly onto a pedestal. Perhaps his trust in him was misplaced but he followed it up with a sardonic smile none the less. A flash of his crooked fangs. Then looked away, the plan for the day was straightforward. Focus on the heavy lifting, despite his inflated ego even he knew he was better placed helping the heavy lifting and ongoing building. Hunting was never a strong suit of his, but it didn’t stop him boasting about it whenever he managed something. The others couldn’t know that now could they.
Maintenance of his appearance was top of his list, scorn the other cats and create an image for himself akin to intimidation itself. His stature helped. Fighting and his intellect was all that he proved any good at in reality, it wasn’t even broadspread intellect. Just a conniving mind fit for strategy and charm. He reckoned it's how he made it so far, if he didn’t have his claws and his size then what did he really have.
[@sleepyyjax]
Newtbelly - he/him - 13 moons
Restlessly, he flicked his tail. Maybe Owlthroat was right, but he didn't like it. It felt almost disapointing, he'd been so excited for his warrior life, but he felt little difference from his apprentic days. Despite this, he trusted Owlthroat - he seemed respected, plus the clan never appeared to doubt his strength. As long as he can be like him, he thought, the clan would realise he's not some weakling. His leaner stature wasn't ideal, but if he grew more agile.. Maybe he could outlast a much stronger cat.
Stiffly, he shuffled again. He didn't think that's what his former mentor meant at all though. Though the young tom was eager to throw himself out on the battlefield, Owlthroat didn't act like he shared that same excitement. Tedious chores like rebuilding the camp felt pointless when there were more interesting things going on. Yet the voice he placed the highest value upon disagreed.
Such a long pause was startling for Newtbelly, he worried that maybe he'd upset the burly tom - simply the concept of that was terrifying to him. However the words he was met with were maybe the opposite? He wasn't sure. Expectations, at least. Unsure of what to say, he straightened out his slumped posture. "Yes, I..." He trailed off, a little unsure how to meet the tom's gaze, but a little encoraged by his possibly misplaced smile. "You're right." He was a little lost for words, but greatly appreciated the advice. He stood up and stretched a little, gazing towards the den exist. "I might head out? There's a lot to do." He commented, hoping his acknowledgement of his workload would maybe... Reinforce Owlthroat's trust in him?
He nodded briskly watching Newtbelly shuffle. The young tom still had a lot to learn, a long way to go before he proved himself. But he believed he would in time. He himself had come an awful long way since his apprentice hood, proved himself in more way than one.
Newbelly was committed to the clan it seemed, something Owlthroat was glad he had instilled in him. Shadowclan would always look out for their own, no matter what. Even if Owlthroat had his own agenda, deep down he wanted Newtbelly looked after.
”Very well”, he sneered. Raising up himself to get on with the day and the tasks ahead. Shaking off the morning’s tension his bushy tail flicked out.
”Keep your head above the water Newt”, Owlthroat meowed, without malice. A cool unclouded statement, with that he slunk out of the den. Dust trailing behind his paws.
Status: unmotivated, will be away from da website couple times. will reply/qoute late if i can
Gender: genderfluid, He/she/they
Bump Policy: 20 hours
Posts: 13
Re: ShadowClan Warriors' Den
Dandelionshade || 23 moons || she/her
Walking in the den, she silently passes by a few warriors that were there to her resting spot. Dandelionshade took time settling onto her nest. And would groom down little hairs that's poking out of her golden fur. Her eyes took a glance of the surroundings in this den before she'd close them to rest peacefully.
| Silverlark | 18 Moons - ShadowClan Enforcer
Shadow Fiend - Inactive | Just a Scratch - Active | Beefed Up [Tier 3] - Inactive
A wide, gaping yawn escaped the young enforcer as he attempted a stretch, instantly swearing with an intensity that would have no doubt brought a very stern glare from his mum when he was younger as he realized his mistake. No no! Stupid, stupid! He couldn't be doing moves like those. His wound would reopen again and he wouldn't be allowed to the RiverClan raid. Actually no, scratch that. He was already not allowed to the RiverClan raid... which... hello? Why?! So he was bleeding. That was fine! That just meant the RiverClanners couldn't do anything worse to him than he already had gotten from their previous battle! It made perfect sense to him!
Unfortunately, Mosster did not agree, and whether Silverlark liked it or not, the medicine cat was much, much smarterer than him... so he supposed he could stay put. And sleep. Even though he was bored out of his mind with how much he had to sleep already. When was he going to get better?! Stupid minks with the stupid bites and the stupid outnumbering him and beating him up before running away like cowards. No honor, hmph!
Through his less than pleasant thoughts, the tom missed out on the young visitor the den had until it was too late, a bird dropping right in front of him. Verdant eyes growing round in surprise momentarily, the silver throated warrior stared down at the feathery prey mutely before turning his attention to the feline speaking to him, rounded ears perked up with interest. Scrunching his nose, the stocky cat narrowed his eyes momentarily, trying to place this apprentice - he knew she was an apprentice, at the very least - when suddenly- Aha! He knew he'd seen her somewhere! This was Squirrely, Whisk's apprentice, yeah yeah yeah!
At the recognition, the enforcer's frown changed, a beaming, open mouthed grin taking its place as he replied, "Yo! Squirrely! I'd love to, I'd love to, yeah? Want me to take those feathers off first? Can make nest materials and makes them fluffers easier to chew on, ya dig? How's training going, eh? Bet it's fun, bet it's fun. Whisk? Awesome fighter, yeah? Saw her take down a fox all by herself one time, gave it the ol' one two. Come to think of it, I wanna try fighting her, yeah? Good spar, good spar. Though... maybe later. When moving doesn't make Mosster glare at me."
A booming laugh escaped him as he spoke, the memory of the healer's glare at his opening up his neck wounds yet again suddenly seeming quite hilarious to the easy going tom. White dipped toes wiggling excitedly, he gave Squirrelpaw an expectant look, a goofy grin on his face as he gave her some room to speak. When he'd been younger, he had dominated conversations entirely, barely leaving a word in for whoever he spoke with. His mother had corrected that in him, letting him know that others might want to speak as well. And - gasp - he would have never been rude like that if mum had told him sooner! Look... look... If someone didn't let him have a word in? He would have a few words with that cat, mmhmmm. With his claws and teeth. So now? Now he made sure to pace himself. Especially around friendly friends like Squirrely here!
@furrensic [Squirrelpaw]
| Sorry. Squirrelpaw has offered to feed him and talk to him. She has now been elevated to the rank of friend as far as Silver is concerned. |
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Lightningstorm is WindClan's current medicine cat.
She has a semi-closed den policy.
SQUIRRELPAW she/her. 12 moons. small russet molly with brown markings and yellow eyes.
[ chill of death ]
squirrely? well, that's a first. squirrelpaw's pretty sure she's never been given a nickname until now. well, unless grousepaw leaving off the -paw in her name counted. upon him agreeing, she lets out a breath she wasn't aware she'd even been holding. jeez, silverlark sure looks intimidating - well, that is, until he smiles. and so, she sits down, stiff as a board.
at his offer to pluck the bird, her mouth draws into a straight line, eyes widening slightly. is..that a good idea considering his wounds? wait..he's not a kit!! argh, well, erm, it seems like he wants to pluck them? I'm not sure, she frets. she has very little time to worry about it, giving a quick nod as silverlark switches the subject to training. then, 'whisk', who she thinks is safe to assume is mistlewhisker.
he's very talkative. it's a tad overwhelming, but it's definitely better than someone who's equally as quiet. she'll gladly let him carry the conversation as long as he likes. she gives nods of acknowledgement to make it clear she's listening despite her lack of eye contact. she instinctively leans back in response to his thunderous laughter. nothing personal!
"training...is..fun, yeah.." squirrelpaw affirms with a nod. stressful, but she's lucky to have a good mentor like mistlewhisker. "she - she really..took down a..f-fox..?" she doesn't doubt it for a second. she's not sure if she's upset she missed such a thing, or happy she didn't have to witness it. she can't imagine how..bloody it got. uhrghh. and, wait, silverlark said he wants to spar with her? he's confident (or perhaps squirrel is just scared, most likely the latter.) "that'd be..in-interesting," she murmurs, silently debating who'd win said spar before shaking the thought away.
"did...did mossfreckle s-say..how long until you're...better..?" she inquires. by the looks of it, it seems silverlark got beat up by the minks instead of the other way around. realizing this, her frown deepens.
| Silverlark | 18 Moons - ShadowClan Enforcer
Shadow Fiend - Inactive | Just a Scratch - Active | Beefed Up [Tier 3] - Inactive
At the paw's nod, Silverlark's eyes shine, white dipped toes wiggling as he reaches over for the bird, carefully plucking each feather with expert care. These would be excellent toys for kits as well as nesting material. As much as the enforcer didn't eat birds on the regular - preferring the delicious taste of toads and frogs, yum yum - he always enjoyed making sure no parts of the creatures they ate went to waste. As much as his memories of his first mentor had been tainted with time after the previous enforcer had upped and left him, abandoned him like every tom he'd ever held in high regard seemed to do... he couldn't deny the wisdom in what he did manage to learn from Shadowfur. Sure, there was moss and sticks to build nests, but unless other materials were used to further reinforce those nests, you'd be going through moss and sticks faster than they could grow, and that would cause problems, yep. Besides, he liked building nests. His mum had always been happy to see him at work on them. Or rather... happier than when he was destroying them for extra parts or as awesome fighting practice. Snort.
Even as he worked, however, the chatty tom kept his eyes on Squirrelpaw as she spoke, rounded ears perked as he offered another giddy grin. He hadn't been worried about her training, truth be told. Why would he be? Whisk was awesome. She wasn't like Shadowfur and Shadefrost. Those two had been useless mentors, but the stocky warrior had learned in time that he had just been unlucky. That most mentors were actually really really good! Obviously, Mistlewhisker would be among those. And here, what was this? Was Squirrely asking for details on the fight? Well, if it was up to the silver throated enforcer to regale this paw with tales of amazing exploits done by his friend, who was he to deny her? Heh heh.
"Oh yeah yeah. Gave the fox the ol' one two, yep yep. Don't think she was too used to it at the time. Not like, super trained to fight foxes, ya dig? Took way more hits than I would have imagined, but she gots it done, and yous know what? Gotten loads better too, mmmhmm. Goes all KER-POW on enemies now. Don't even know what hit em when she's done with 'em. That's why I wanna fight with her, ya dig? Wes gots to stay sharp. Challenge ourselves, yeah? I took a beating with them minks. Got outnumbered, yeah? Took down three of 'em, the others ran away before I could kill anymore... but I still went down. So! So. I want to go up against good, strong opponents, yeah? Keep my technique smooth so I can help out more in fights," Silverlark chattered away as he clipped away at the feathers, taking a pause as he tried to rid the tail of a particularly stubborn one without damaging it, noting how pretty and long it was compared to the others as Squirrely asked about his condition.
Finally the feather relented as the gray tom wrinkled his nose, tongue stuck out as the feather clung stubbornly to it. Annoyed by the fickle thing, the enforcer batted at his face multiple times, spitting as he did so, slowly slobbering the plume he'd been so hell bent on removing as intact as possible. It wasn't until he had saved his mouth from the fuzzy article that he crossed his eyes, as if making sure it wasn't hiding on his nose before he offered the apprentice another grin, this time mightily pleased at no longer having a feather to contend with. Plus! Bright side! He could now refocus on Squirrely, seeing as how the bird had been plucked away. Victory!
"Mosster? Eh... Eh... Not sure, not sure. Not until after the raid, nope. It seems I keep accidentally reopening my wound. Yep. 'parently I'm just not careful 'nough, ya dig? I don't really go feeling any pain until it starts burning a little every now and then, and then I have to like... be paying attention to it. Or it's already bleeding again," he meowed, a booming laugh escaping him once more.
"Hope it's soon though, ya know?" Silverlark continued, his gaze softening slightly as he spoke. "Gots to keep training my apprentice, Flashies. She's a good paw, yeah? Real smart smart. Much smarterer than me, mmmhmmm. I'm sure she can manage just fine without me, but I'm her mentor, yeah? That means I need to be there for her, not resting in some nest just cus I might bleed out or something silly like that, ya dig?"
Oh, dear. It seems a timid little admirer has finally plucked up the courage to wander this way...
Mosquitokit pokes his head into the fallen tree trunk, whiskers on one side scraping a moss-eaten wooden edge. He's crumpled into an amateur crouch, bottom too high and paws too awkward as he creeps around the bend and then plants himself down right there, a copper-eyed shadow at the den's mouth. His pulse thrums hummingbird-quick, though by now he's gotten better at ignoring that discomfort.
He just—wants to see, is all.
The warriors' den is so different compared to the nursery. There's no lullaby-sweet milkscent here, no soothing murmur of mothervoice and kittenbabble. Mosquitokit's enthralled at the...the practicality of it all. He can't imagine ever fitting in here, ever seeing this place as his day-to-day, but he supposes there's plenty of time, yet.
Like a giddy superfan, the black kit wriggles forwars a few paces, just hoping to catch a glimpse of some warrior or other doing...well...uh. Warrior things?
He's sure he'll find out soon enough.
[ FEEL FREE TO ENGAGE OR TO NUDGE HIS NOSY SELF OUTTA HERE ]
He's been down a while. I hope he's doing okay. . .
Quiet paws led him to the Warriors' Den. He's managed to hide the rock he was carrying around from the clan outside the den. The rock that barely fit in his mouth and honestly, he looked a little ridiculous trying to hold it between his teeth. No one needed to know. No one needed to ask him what he was doing. This was for him to know. This was for Silverlark, if Silverlark could figure out it was him doing this.
He better appreciate this. . . my dignity is on the line
Hawkbite grunted lightly as his cheek brushed the den's wall. He'd taken to the sides, although he didn't listen to his whiskers and thought he could get closer than he could. This was merely to avoid stepping on tails anyway, no need to be sneaky, yet.
Although, the sneaky moment came up quickly as the nest of Silverlark came into view. Hawkbite gave the den a quick glance before deciding it was safe to emerge from the shadowy walls. Once more, silent steps crept him closer. Then, with a gently plop, the spikey, misshaped rock tumbled into the nest Silverlark claimed. Content with that, Hawkbite would attempt turning towards his own nest and awaiting the reaction from his fellow Enforcer. Whether he would successfully get away with it or not was up to Silverlark.
Surely, this would perk his spirits up? The kid seemed like he might need it after all this time.
| Silverlark | 19 Moons - ShadowClan Enforcer
Shadow Fiend - Inactive | Just a Scratch - Inactive | Beefed Up [Tier 3] - Inactive
What was this? Only the most glorious of news! Stupendous! Awesometacular! The bestest ever! And any other number of super big words that the young tom did not know. Because? Because! He could officially do stuff! Mosster would no longer be dragging him by the tail to the medicine cat's den for him daring to move! Well... there were some cave- cavo- things that he had to keep in mind... like... if he reopened his wound he was in trouble, but as long as he took it easy? Victory!
So of course the tom had done the first thing that had come to mind when he had been given his freedom! Looked for Flashies! Because he was a good mentor, oh yes. A proper mentor. And he was going to make it up to his apprentice for putting up with his being down for so long. Had to get back on top of her training. Couldn't have her lagging behind because of him. Nope!
But then it'd happen. He... hadn't found her. He couldn't see her anywhere. Could find her scent, but not her. It wasn't like her to just leave, and it hadn't seemed like she had been on patrol, either. This wasn't the first time this happened. Cloves had vanished on him too. And he was nervous. Because... his mentors disappearing on him? Ignoring him? Making fun of him on the day he'd lost his mum? Yeah sure. They were crowfood. He didn't care. But his own apprentices? He'd been trying so hard... wanted to make sure they knew he was there for them and super proud. So why did they keep disappearing on him?
Sulking, the tom slowly made his way back to the warriors' den. His good mood was gone. Tarnished by this discovery. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he just hadn't looked hard enough? But he was paranoid. It seemed like things didn't really ever go his way, did they? Ever since he was a kit. He thought it was others before... but during his down time he hadn't been able to help himself. He'd started to wonder if maybe he was the problem. No one had gone to say hi while he was down. Which you know... made sense yo. They were busy! But... but then this? It twisted his stomach. Made his insides queasy. Because what if he wasn't meant for ShadowClan life?
He was entering the den when Silverlark spotted him. The familiar tabby coat that had become synonymous with one of his favorite cats in ShadowClan when he was younger. When he was still a Mousepaw. He meant to open up his maw. Say hello. But then he noticed how... weird the tom was acting? Hanging round his nest and leaving a... a rock? It was silent. Super sneaky footwork, mmmmhmmm. The enforcer was impressed. But he didn't get it. What was up the rock?
It took him only a moment to figure it out. The silver throated warrior was not very knowledgeable in many things in life, his brother having taken the brains in the family... but he knew one thing for certain. He knew gifts. He had been making gifts and handing gifts and just gifting everyone since he was a round, soft fuzzed, gray ball of fur. And this? This was a gift? Was it? Was it for him? Of course it was! Silly, silly! Hawkbite knew where he slept. Which meant that this was a gift to... to... um... To give him something as rock solid as he was! Yeah! Because! Because! Minks didn't matter! He may have almost gone down, but he was still here! Like a rock, just crushing through life, heh heh!
"HAWKSTER!" the tom boomed gleefully, in such dire need of some glimpse of love and positivity that he instantly convinced himself this was the only logical conclusion as to why Sir Bits was leaving a rock in his nest and promptly rushed towards him, barreling in for a massive, crushing badger hug.
@SuspiciousMindz [Hawkbite] | @Blazimations [Flashpaw]
| Saw Flashpaw in a patrol, so I am not sure if you are no longer shelving her, Blazimations? If you are, feel free to ignore this mention, as it's just to make sure Flashpaw isn't around in camp for longer! If she is though, the lad wishes to see her so please feel free to have her have noticed him looking for her and calling her around camp! He would have been a loud lad. |
__________________
Lightningstorm is WindClan's current medicine cat.
She has a semi-closed den policy.
Re: ShadowClan Warriors' Den
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