Mintkit smiled. The feel of Sunpaw’s tongue across her ear was tickly, and felt fun! She knew Sunpaw would be nice! “I was wondering! What kinda stuff do you learn in your apprentice training?” she asked brightly. “Is it fun? It looks fun!” Mintkit’s smile grew bigger. Mintkit bounced up and down with excitement. “Will you teach me some?” she asked hopefully.
It had taken some time for the appropriate actions to be taken when both herself and some others were assigned as guards the previous meeting; though the name was self-explanatory, being briefed on its details was quite pleasant, now being assured that she wouldn't look like a workless fool just sitting around if her eyes were located on camp and it's entrance be it day or night, silently sitting guard from the shadows of her position. And it seemed that today an apprentice she believed to recognise as Midnightpaw seemed to have had a similar thought; night had fallen and Sleepypaw had found herself restless within the new territory, for the first time since becoming an apprentice not sleeping beside Miss Grandmama in her den. It felt strange, she missed the older molly's presence but did not want to burden her grandmother further when she already seemed so occupied, especially with the move and worry of twolegs.
As such, as a true first for the youngest of the two apprentices, Sleepypaw had decided that standing guard within the dead of night would do. Someone had to ensure no twolegs found this camp, after all, and had to call the alarm if anything was amiss. But she hadn't expected the company, not having realised when Midnightpaw had joined her or if the apprentice had already been there. It left a silence she could only describe as palpable and awkward on her end, unsure what the common courtesy was in these situations; was she supposed to greet the other apprentice? Talk to her? Be friendly with her (how is one friendly)? Or ignore her? Never look her way - oh, it was too late for that, as soul-piercing eyes had taken a short yet slow glance towards the fellow guard completing her duties, an air of curiosity. What had brought her out here at this hour?
Wildkit ran out of the nursery and over to the fresh kill pile. She grabbed a huge bunny big enough for two cats. Wildkit picked it up, walked over to a sunny spot, and waited for her friend to share the bunny.
@kenjaku
Quietpaw
Shadowclan apprentice
Purrks: Mind reader(permanently active) and Shadow fiend(inactive)
48/100
The apathy that had took over Quietpaw was beginning to shatter. Something more...powerful was breaking through. As much as she would have liked to, it was becoming harder to ignore everything that was happening around her. It wasn't her choice but she was beginning to feel strangely...angry. Not annoyed or irritated as she usually was, it had evolved into full on rage. Why, you ask? No idea. Maybe because she'd finally realised how absolutely terrible the cats around her were. So she did have an idea, and that was a lie. *Sigh* How utterly infuriating.
Or another theory, perhaps the apprentice was in a bad mood and had the time to explore her mind so deeply because it was raining and she hated the apprentices den so she her fur was getting all soggy and she was going to get a cold? Yep. Perched on her favoured rock post snd barely sheltered by the thin leaves of the tree above her from the falling droplets. This was terrible. Flattened ears and slow flicking tail were to show that Quietpaw was most certainly bothered by the weather. It was just dreadful.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 The Dancing Bird
The weather had been less than ideal for most, but Owlthroat enjoyed the rain. Its cool ambience always left his bitter mind peaceful. The warrior's den was packed out in weather like this and it cramped his style, he’d ended up tucked under a thicket at the edge of camp. Out of sight and earshot, there was much to contend with at the moment. A blathering, harebrained new apprentice he despised. A killer still on the loose, and with all that he still was coloured green with jealousy over missing out on the fight against Riverclan. His black and white patched fur was mostly dry under the thicket, save for the occasional trickle of water which ran through the leaves.
Inky black patches gleamed as they covered his back, slicked down in parts due to damp. Chill, clearly present in his bones despite his thick fur. The day was drawing in and he’d have to move into the den, it was what it was. Raising up stiffly, he shook out his tail and began to saunter forward. Another perk of the rain meant his usually oafish sounding movements were muffled. Stealth never had been a strongpoint, he envied those who slipped through the shadows like a second pelt.
There were a lot of things he envied.
Owlthroat’s towering mass wandered its way across the camp clearing, the ground was soaked. Churned to mud underpaw where cats had clearly been coming and going throughout the day. Brown splatters quickly painting his white underbelly. Then a young cat caught his eye. Quietpaw was it? He wasn’t sure at first and thought about minding his business but as always curiosity bested him. The tom took a step forward and became assured in his past judgement, it was Quietpaw. He’d seen her around camp a couple times, never making a habit of talking to apprentices. Black fur plastered with rain, hardly being sheltered by the thin leaves above her. Another cat plagued by idiocy.
”You’ll make work for Mossfreckle sat out here like this", the abrasive snarl slipped from his maw. Quickly drenched ears now flattening to his skull, mirroring the apprentice before he spoke again, "Move it."
Fallowkit stood outside of the nursery, taking it all in. They had been in the new camp for a while now, but he still wasn't used to it yet. He missed his old den. He missed the old smells. He missed everything. He sighed. Padding over to a sunny spot. Laying down, he closed his eyes. He soon fell asleep...
Twilightkit missed the old camp, but she loved the new one. So many new things! She jumped around the clearing. She just couldn't get enough of the smells.
BOTH ARE OPEN TO INTERACTING WITH OTHERS, BUT YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP FALLOWKIT TO TALK TO HIM. TO TALK TO TWILIGHTKIT, YOU HAVE TO CALM HER DOWN.
__________________
¨Dont pretend the past never happened, Lionblaze. Its like my shadow. Always following me¨ Hollyleaf in The Last Hope
Mangroveheart is Rootclan's medicine cat! Find her here!https://warriorcatsonline.com/forums...33#post1593933
VM me to become a BeAn.
Mudslide
She, Her\Warrior\14 moons\Shadowclan
"I miss the yellow. I miss the yellin' and the shake downs."
· · ─────── ·· ─────── ·
Three? Oh stars above, Dawnstar was pulling her tail. "Crud." She sneered, pushing herself up to her paws, her ear flicking for Roachflare to follow. Was she about to leave camp? No. Wasn't that obvious? She was blindly walking in circles, thinking.
If there needed to be permission, then there needed to be a good reason to even go out in the first place. Mudslide could spot a few cats right now who didn't seem to be doing anything, Bitternpaw for example. He looked like a sac of flour just waiting to be blown away. But Mudslide didn't know him, she didn't want to know him.
The tall she-cat suddenly halted, her eyes blinking slowly. "I've thought." She confirmed, just in case there was any confusion about her sudden pacing. She looked around, her marbled ears catching the sunlight. "Beetles?" Mudslide requested excitedly. She turned to face her friend, her head tilted downwards. "Wanna come?"
Mudslide loved beetles, and she would die on that hill. Shadowclan wasn't really known for it's insects but they sure did exist. Or at least they used to, back in the marshes. Even if they couldn't leave, not at the moment anyways, then they could at least look for something. Easing Roachflare's nerves was all on her mind at the moment. Well, that and beetles.
mud stood up and with her went the warmth and comfort, leaving roachflare exposed to the harsh breeze that had made its way through trees and bramble and ruffled soft tortie pelt. realistically, roach knew this was an exxaggeration but being this dependent was harsh and painful, so it might as well be true. like this, he felt vulnerable, weak...he needed orders. a place to be, a place and plan to execute orders, something to sink off white claws into and colour them deep red. splatter tri coloured pelt with crimson, stain white patches of fur a rusty brown, and let metallic tang overwhelm his senses. distraction...distruction... they werent allowed to attend any battle he knew of anytime soon, couldnt leave camp, he was without orders and faced with vulnerability.
bi coloured eyes followed muds sleep, tall form move in irregular circles, low light shining on his best friends silky brown pelt and highlighting every bit of dust and moisture in the air.
familiar tall form halted, roachflares tail had curled around his left hind leg with something between simply seeking comfort and aiming to shrink his already smaller than average frame into nothingness. "ive thought" mudslidee began, and earned herself a low humm for that information (or was it a realisation?). beetles. she wanted to look for beetles? roach couldnt quite believe dawnstar, mistlewhisker, or any enforcer would let that pass as a necesarry trip. and who would they take anyway? if it was muds intention to get alone time this might be a not so smart plan, though, he probably wouldnt openly state his opinion as such. "'th who? (with who) he asked, head tipped to the side slightly and he could briefly feel the air and debris shift around light whiskers, before the warriors focus returned to his friend who looked like she thought very very highly of this idea. but what he he know anyway.
[ now that i read this written out for the 3rd time it might be a teensy bit dramatic ]
Quietpaw
Shadowclan apprentice
Purrks: Mind reader(permanently active) and Shadow fiend(inactive)
49/100
What now? A grumbling warrior? Stars, she couldn't deal with this. Quietpaw gave a mere glare in response to the snarl that came her way. Make work for Mossfreckle. Oh, yes, a case of the sniffles would be such a bothersome burden for their medicine cat. Plus, it wasn't like Mossfreckle needed to work at all, it wasn't his job or anything. Sarcasm. The language she was most fluent in.
Who did this cat think he was, telling her what to do? No matter how harshly this random warrior spoke she would not budge. Seriously, her grandmother was Dawnstar, this cat was about as intimidating as a kit to her. Rain drenched fur thoroughly ruffled now and cyan hues narrowed to slits, Quietpaw didn't move an inch. A silent challenge to the black and white warrior's authority. This would definitely end well.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat received nothing but a mere glare in return to his challenge, blue eyes reflecting in a silent challenge as they fell upon his own piercing yellow. His urge to send the apprentice scampering back to her den hadn’t been born from sincere care of her wellbeing, more the overwhelming curiosity of why she sat drenched in this weather. But nevertheless his statement rang true, she would catch something out here whether that be frozen stiff bones or whitecough. Now the challenge had been made it wasn’t exactly something he could back off from. A mixture of pride and keeping up with his false pretences that he always had the clan’s best interest at heart. Wouldn’t be good for his image to hear him sulking away from the challenge of a cat less than half his age, nor in his nature. A small matter had quickly swelled up into a much larger one.
He bristled up his fur and closed the distance between the two. The atmosphere quickly souring as a scowl lined his face, he needed to instil a touch of fear into her. Reinforce his status quickly. The hulking cat built up his presence, puffing out his chest. ”Ever heard of Whitecough?” It wasn’t a snarl this time, his playful lilt didn’t match the scowl that still plastered the lines of his maw. ”Starts off with a sniffly nose, tightness in the chest. Not pleasant but bearable.” Owlthroat paused, dragging back memories of his own sickly mother and littermate. ”You get lucky it goes away, if not. It grows like a parasite, worming its way into your lungs, leaving your muscles weak and unusable.” Another pause, he was winding himself up, hitting his own sore spots here. Inevitable with a brain like his. ”Death doesn’t come quick, it comes slow. Sometimes even drawing breath, only to realise there is no more air. Through thick, sour fluid left in your chest.” Emphasis was put on each word slowly, daringly. Not pausing to think if he’d gone overboard or what he was saying was completely factually accurate, he was young when he witnessed it.
This young cat knew nothing yet in his eyes, nothing. Clearly not how the minor can grow into something twisted and sucking. It was unforgettable how his mother and brother had died, gasping, writhing, biting for a chance to live. A blurry memory in the shade of kithood, a building block of who he had became. Manic glints shone through his widened eyes as he bore them into her.