Gracklepaw
13 moons || ShadowClan Apprentice; Former Loner || 73/100
. . .
Gracklepaw turned to his side as another apprentice approached him, presumably ThunderClan from the scent. His suspicions were further confirmed as she commented about it. He didn't take much offense to the jab at his scent. ShadowClan did have that odd marshy scent. Or piney, he guessed. Their territory has moved and there wasn't much marshland anymore. When he'd first joined the Clan he had thought the same things. It was also ironic that recently Magpiepaw had also commented on how his "weird loner scent" as she called it had faded.
"I don't smell like ThunderClan because I'm not from ThunderClan. I'm from ShadowClan. I used to think the smell was weird too. But I'm used to it by now." My name's Gracklepaw by the way." He replied to the ThunderClan apprentice. He had to stifle a laugh at the expressive look on her face. He didn't want to be rude to the cat he just met, but her gaping jaw was quite amusing. "Is this your first Gathering?" He asked with a smile.
Eyes wide with uncharacteristic curiousity (the only reason it was uncharacteristic was because Kestrelpaw had been suppressing it for the past three moons), the ThunderClan apprentice soaked up her companion's words like a sponge. "Ew. Yucky, ShadowClan. Just so you know, ThunderClan is way better." She accentuated these words with a firm nod, as if that made her right and whatever he said on the matter instantly wrong.
She paused, however, at his next words. He... agreed with her? He used to think the scent odd also-? Wait, what was she saying, of course he agreed with her. She was always right after all. Glancing over at the apprentice - Gracklepaw, Kestrelpaw narrowed her eyes suspiciously. No way, he'd stolen her bird name! Hmph! Fine, she supposed she wouldn't hold it against him. Not his fault he just didn't know.
"Mine is Kestrelpaw, duh." She huffed, and then puffed up indignantly at his other question. No way was this her first gathering! She wasn't some sort of newbie! "Nuh uh. I been here... before." She informed him ... but admittedly, Kestrelpaw had barely paid attention to anything except her father, and then had gone home early.
__________________
❝ Leaving them feeling betrayed.
Breaking the bonds that you've made. ❞
The siblings lingered near the back of the Seastones, casting leering, judgmental glances at the other clan cats. They loomed like colossal shadows, stark black against the moonlit gathering, towering ominously like vultures awaiting the end. Every full moon, they assumed this sentinel-like presence, more akin to bodyguards than guests at a social event. Yet, if one watched closely, one might catch them in rare moments of mingling—either with each other or with any brave soul daring enough to approach.
"It's hot tonight." Loonfoot grumbled, his voice a low mumble as he lapped at his white-speckled legs in a futile attempt to cool down. He ignored the fact that his sister's coat was twice as thick as his own.
Midnightchirp side-eyed him, her cold blue eyes gleaming subtly. Loonfoot was large, sure, but compared to her, he was merely a cub standing next to a mountain. "I oughta sit on you." she threatened, the words delivered with a deadly calm that lacked any hint of a smile.
Loonfoot met her gaze, testing the waters. Midnightchirp was usually serious, her demeanor a stark contrast to the sweet, bubbly persona their mother, Nightchirp, had embodied. She bore her suffix in honor of their mother, yet lived up to none of her warmth. He found this contrast amusing but stifled his giggles, knowing better than to provoke her openly. They locked eyes for a few tense seconds, the silence thick with anticipation, until Loonfoot finally broke it with a disbelieving scoff. "Yeah, right—oOF!"
In one fluid motion, Midnightchirp sat on him, her massive form pinning him effortlessly to the ground. Her long, lazy tail dangled at his nose, and Loonfoot's struggles beneath her were muffled, his pleas for release absorbed by her thick pelt. The heat was stifling now, twice as oppressive with her weight bearing down on him. Midnightchirp smirked, a rare, inward chuckle echoing in her mind. That'll teach him.
Lostspark had recently made it a habit to linger at the corners of Gatherings, safely enshrouded in shadow, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to pester her, or those who judged her for stepping down from Medicine Cat Rank. Not that it bothered her much - she had done what was best for her, for ShadowClan, and additionally fully trained Mossfreckle before she'd stepped down and rejoined the Enforcer ranks, so ShadowClan was not bereft without her.
Now, she watched from her corner, her clouded amber eyes - supposedly meant to be blind - all-seeing, resting on her mother. Dawnstar was a formidable figure, and ten times that of an opponent. She would be fine, no matter how much Lostspark's instincts gnawed at her to edge closer, so she could put the first cat who looked at her mother wrong in the ground. Pushing these decidedly unproper-for-gatherings thoughts aside, the scarred grey Enforcer turned her attention instead to the crowd. With RiverClan missing, it was strangely peaceful.
Peaceful enough for two cats to be tussling (of sorts), Lostspark mused as her gaze latched onto the pair. Odd, to put it simply. Merry ShadowClanners. Okay, Lostspark supposed it was not that much of an oddity, and she was certainly not judging them - not all had a life as gloomy as hers had fashioned out to be lately - but it was still... intriguing. Midnightchirp and Loonfoot, if she recalled correctly. Siblings. Kin of blood, if she (mostly her roleplayer) assumed correctly.
Unfettered curiosity prickled at her pelt, and the heavily scarred female found her paws already moving, soundless against the ground, the graceful movements of a shark gliding through water after scenting blood.
[ Shadow Fiend Inactive ]
Safe to say, Lostspark may or may not have given her newfound companions a fright as she emerged from the shadows, glassy, supposedly-blind eyes turned towards them. "Tussle later." She spoke after a moment, voice a low rumble. "WindClan and ThunderClan are not our allies, regardless of any peace treaties under the full moon." Lostspark would definitely break any treaty if the Queen of Mean - Dawnstar - was put under risk, ever the dutiful bodyguard.
__________________
❝ Leaving them feeling betrayed.
Breaking the bonds that you've made. ❞
Lostspark had recently made it a habit to linger at the corners of Gatherings, safely enshrouded in shadow, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to pester her, or those who judged her for stepping down from Medicine Cat Rank. Not that it bothered her much - she had done what was best for her, for ShadowClan, and additionally fully trained Mossfreckle before she'd stepped down and rejoined the Enforcer ranks, so ShadowClan was not bereft without her.
Now, she watched from her corner, her clouded amber eyes - supposedly meant to be blind - all-seeing, resting on her mother. Dawnstar was a formidable figure, and ten times that of an opponent. She would be fine, no matter how much Lostspark's instincts gnawed at her to edge closer, so she could put the first cat who looked at her mother wrong in the ground. Pushing these decidedly unproper-for-gatherings thoughts aside, the scarred grey Enforcer turned her attention instead to the crowd. With RiverClan missing, it was strangely peaceful.
Peaceful enough for two cats to be tussling (of sorts), Lostspark mused as her gaze latched onto the pair. Odd, to put it simply. Merry ShadowClanners. Okay, Lostspark supposed it was not that much of an oddity, and she was certainly not judging them - not all had a life as gloomy as hers had fashioned out to be lately - but it was still... intriguing. Midnightchirp and Loonfoot, if she recalled correctly. Siblings. Kin of blood, if she (mostly her roleplayer) assumed correctly.
Unfettered curiosity prickled at her pelt, and the heavily scarred female found her paws already moving, soundless against the ground, the graceful movements of a shark gliding through water after scenting blood.
[ Shadow Fiend Inactive ]
Safe to say, Lostspark may or may not have given her newfound companions a fright as she emerged from the shadows, glassy, supposedly-blind eyes turned towards them. "Tussle later." She spoke after a moment, voice a low rumble. "WindClan and ThunderClan are not our allies, regardless of any peace treaties under the full moon." Lostspark would definitely break any treaty if the Queen of Mean - Dawnstar - was put under risk, ever the dutiful bodyguard.
Midnightchirp & Loonfoot of ShadowClan
Midnightchirp eased herself off Loonfoot the moment Lostspark materialized from the shadows, her cold blue eyes briefly meeting the scarred Enforcer’s before settling back on her brother. With a curt nod that seemed more an act of acknowledgment than apology, she muttered, "Fine," her voice as steady as ever.
Loonfoot, still rattled from both his sister’s pinning and the abruptness of Lostspark’s appearance, clambered to his feet. He brushed the dust from his fur with an irritated flick of his tail, embarrassment simmering just beneath his pelt. The startle had jolted a newfound respect for Lostspark into his core. "Right, sorry Lostspark," he mumbled, casting his sister a sharp sideways glare.
"Good point, too," Loonfoot added hastily, trying to recover some dignity and perhaps win Lostspark’s favor. Uncertainty prickled at his chest fur as he spoke, his cheeks warming. He shook his pelt, a feeble attempt to disguise his lingering embarrassment. "We prefer not to mingle with the other clans for that reason. Hence, why we are back here."
Midnightchirp remained stoic, though she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at her brother’s ineptitude around authority—a flaw he had possessed since birth. She found it weak and embarrassing, but tolerated him nonetheless. He was, after all, the last of her blood. "Mhm," she agreed lowly, her gaze drifting toward the chattering crowd. Small talk was a mystery she had never cared to unravel. Fortunately, her brother managed such interactions with ease, even if he was a complete mousebrain.
As if synchronized with her thoughts, Loonfoot, having regained some composure, took a seat and glanced thoughtfully between his sister and the Enforcer. "Care to join us?" he asked Lostspark, his tone hopeful.
Orangeblossom startled slightly as Brackenclaw seemed to completely disregard Orangeblossom's previous attempts at starting conversation, and instead chose to focus on his glances towards a certain medicine cat. Just as he kind of did before, the ginger got strangely flustered for being caught for some reason. He wasn't sure why, he was just worried for a friend, Orangeblossom was a huge worrier, but also staring was kind of rude, his mom taught him that so maybe he was just embarrassed by doing such a thing. Hopefully Springlight wasn't offended or anything, he really was just worried. He gave a sheepish grin to his friend and shook his head lightly, "I don't think so. I'm just worried for her, a lot has happened for everyone, but I can't imagine having your mentor and partner step down like that. It must be such a big change, and I know she's strong and can handle it easy, but I'm scared she'll just bury herself in her work." He spoke. Not quite grasping at the fact that his friend had implied a crush at works, or something more than friendship, he wasn't the brightest when it came to romantic stuff and wasn't even aware of his own blossoming feelings. Heh.
The warrior, wagged his tail a bit as he looked over to Brackenclaw fully and suddenly he remembered a fact that he would've rather not remember at the time. Vixenpaw. Right. Green eyes looked away quickly and he suddenly was bluntly reminded that they were missing now. And so were his other siblings. Gone. And his mom. No no no. A gathering is not the place for a full grown warrior to cry. Don't mess up Thunderclan's image. Hold it together for now. "...You were Vixenpaw's mentor... right? Did...they say anything to you that might explain why they're.... I'm sorry, that's silly, I'm sure if they did then you would've told someone already but I'm a hopeless optimistic at heart I just... hope that they will return to me.. soon." He quickly used a paw to wipe at his quickly growing misty eyes. "Anyways... how have you been?"
Brackenclaw had been avoiding Orangeblossom for this exact reason. He felt guilty for Vixenpaw's disappearance. He tried to find the Apprentice after they went missing but to no avail eventually he had no choice but to give up especially when he was assigned Pheasantpaw. Brackenclaw didn't know exactly what to say but would attempt to do something. "I'm sorry Orangeblossom but Vixenpaw didn't say anything to me. I tried looking for them after they went missing but found no traces. I feel bad for their disappearance given you trusted me to teach them. But at the end of the day there wasn't anything I could do to stop the scenario." Brackenclaw would bow his head in apology as he would let Orangeblossom decide how to feel about Brackenclaw's failure as a mentor.
◇BristleThorn◇
Female | 29 Moons | ShadowClan Warrior | Apprentice: Spider’Paw | Posts: 16
large, long-haired she-cat with pale calico markings and brown eyes
Purrks: None
Interaction For: @IDIOTICBEAN101
Okay…well she was out of conversation now huh? That was fine. If he wanted to talk, he could talk to her. She just looked up at the leaders. Could they hurry up?! Please?
She glanced between her brother and SpiderPaw, whom was still in the midst of a conversation with the WindClan warrior. Again—it’s fine. He’s fine.
♧SpiderPaw♧
Male | 11 Moons | ShadowClan Apprentice | Mentor: Bristle’Thorn | Posts: 14/100
sleek, small black tom with sapphire eyes and long scar on his side
Purrks: Flock Together T1 [ACTIVE]
Interaction For: @Honey Bee
Could he get a grip? It was fine, he’d manage a simple conversation. Everything just seemed like too much lately. “Nice to meet ya. Trainings going well.” He responded. Why was he being so dense? Elaborate SpiderPaw! “Hopefully next gatherin’ I’ll be a warrior.” He smiled, more proud this time. It was true, by then he should have gone through his assessment. “What’s it like bein’ a warrior?”
Its… she trailed of not sure what to say it’s nice, but you now, stressful Crowfade mewed
Small, skinny, black she-cat with a light gray belly and tail-tip, a mangled tail, a crooked jaw, and one blind eye.
Twistedpaw felt a stab of anxiety as Squirrelrise's expression changed, eyes stretching wide in a yellow flash and jaw falling open before quickly being shut with an audible snap. Did I do something wrong? she silently worried. Was she too direct when talking about her warrior names? Was Squirrelrise upset with her for mentioning her deformities? Part of Twistedpaw felt guilty, but the other refused to follow suit. It's not my fault if she's uncomfortable because of me, she reminded herself. But she hated making others uncomfortable, and-
Oh.
Guilt immediately washed over the black-and-light-gray apprentice. Squirrelrise had been flustered because of the compliment, not because of Twistedpaw's rambling on about future warrior names. She ducked her head, feeling like a fool. Her cheeks burned hotter than the greenleaf sun. Why did she always assume that everyone was judging her? Well, she knew why, but she also knew that she had to stop. Still... it's so hard. And I did sound like a featherbrain...
The ShadowClan warrior's compliment caught her completely off guard. Twistedpaw had to do a double take, briefly cut off from her thoughts by Squirrelrise's panicked meow. A purr rumbled in her throat, barely audible over the bauble coming from the surrounding cats. A compliment... Twistedpaw was so used to giving them, but she'd been receiving quite a few as of late, despite everything. It always made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. Happy. In the past, she never would've dreamed of receiving any compliments from... well, anyone.
Not with Willowsky and Flutteringkit's abuse fresh in her mind.
Looking at Squirrelrise, too, Twistedpaw realized just how similar they were. They were both anxious and awkward. Even though Squirrelrise wasn't deformed - she didn't have to worry about looking odd - Twistedpaw had long since learned that everyone had their own battles to fight, whether they were obvious or hidden. "Thank you," Twistedpaw meowed, smiling lopsidedly due to her crooked jaw. "You're very sweet, too."
Squirrelrise seemed to calm down a little and moved onto the topic of warrior names. Even though Twistedpaw had since realized that Squirrelrise's anxiety had nothing to do with the talk of warrior names, she still felt a little awkward thinking of her awkward babbling. However, the russet she-cat had proven herself to be kind and sweet, and Twistedpaw felt herself relax - especially as Squirrelrise suggested something. A name not based on her looks, as Willowsky had intended, but rather on personality. Or skill.
Twistedpaw blinked. She'd never really considered it before, but it made sense. There was a lot more to her than how she looked on the outside, even though it was what cats first saw and what had governed so much of her life. Her looks weren't everything, though, and she realized, in that moment... she didn't want a name that only reflected how she looked on the outside.
She wasn't ashamed of her disabilities, of course. Yes, they caused her some anxiety and plenty of issues, both physically and socially, but they were a part of her, and she knew they didn't make her any less valuable as a cat, even if they could get in her way. However, the idea of only being recognized for them and not everything else she'd been through made her feel... a bit nervous, really.
"Twistedsky is a pretty name," she meowed. "Why did you choose it?" She paused for a moment, then continued, "I... I hope I get a nice name. I'm not the prettiest cat, or the fastest, or the strongest... but that's okay. No matter what, I'm going to be a good warrior. I'm not ashamed of who I am, but... I don't want my disabilities to be all others think of me, you know?"
Surprisingly, it didn't feel strange to confess this to someone from another Clan, someone she might have to meet in battle. It wasn't a Clan secret. Besides, Squirrelrise was nice, and Twistedpaw felt like they could relate to each other. It feels nice, getting to talk to someone like me. Right now, beneath the full moon, under the glory of Silverpelt, ShadowClan and WindClan weren't the mortal enemies fate had claimed them to be.
@furrensic [I want to hug Squirrelrise please and thank you]
__________________
Some of my characters think or act in ways I disagree with. Please understand that I do not support or condone these thoughts or actions.
♧SpiderPaw♧
Male | 11 Moons | ShadowClan Apprentice | Mentor: Bristle’Thorn | Posts: 17/100
sleek, small black tom with sapphire eyes and long scar on his side
Purrks: Flock Together T1 [ACTIVE]
Interaction For: @Honey Bee
He listened to what she had to say about it. Bristle’Thorn sometimes said the same thing but…she was also proud of it and boasted about being a warrior. “Well…it can’t be that bad right? At least from what I heard it’s rewarding.” he offered his insight on it
Marshypaw
Male / 7 Moons / ShadowClan / Pansexual
Russet tabby tom with cream-brown fur around the torso, blue and yellow heterochromatic eyes, and a naturally sinister expression
“Well there’s no point to misery without joy, now is there? Just like there’s no point to beauty without brains! That last part is something that you, my friend, need to work on!”
~Marshypaw
✽❀✽
Marshypaw, on the inside, was pretty gos dot have somebody to have a dramatic interaction with, even at the cost of their time here. Seeing as this mysterious ThunderClan apprentice had already been willing to snap at him once, as well as even go so far as to blame him for the mistake that he himself had caused to happen, Marshypaw did not expect much kindness from the tawny and brown tom-cat. So far ThunderClan as a whole was seeming awfully grumpy and pessimistic, and Marshypaw was very disappointed in the lack of big personality he was seeing in them all. What was it they were supposed to be like… ah, yes; ThunderClan cats were supposed to be the fierce and courageous ones, the responsible and the agile, and apparently some of them were losing faith for some reason. But over all, this showed more personality than some angst teenager trying to make it through the evening in a public space, spreading their attitude to everybody else. At the moment, at least in Marshypaw’s judgmental eyes, ThunderClan was this angst teenager, and instead of being the organized and courageous cats that the russet and cream tabby tom had expected them all to be, they were just boring, sad, and grumpy. It was almost as if half of them were made up of sassy and cranky small children and teens, and the other half was full of old, grumpy elders, all of which had nothing better to do than sit and complain about the weather. Marshypaw sighed, disappointed in the scene. But hey, they’ve probably got some nasty views about ShadowClan, too. I heard that THEY heard that we eat children. Honestly, it’s more funny than annoying, really, so I’ll simply play along if a newcomer decides to question me on the subject! Yes, that will be LOVELY!!! So smiling to himself, Marshypaw prepared to rant for the tom-cat.
Eventually the dramatic russet and cream colored apprentice was long gone, tossing out remarks, comments, and really every other passive aggressive thing that came to mind as he addressed the rude ThunderClan apprentice. Happy with his decision, Marshypaw had made the choice to make it nice and clear that he was not taking any crap today, and if Brindlepaw was going to try and ruin his evening, he certainly was not having it. No, he was going to… politely let this young apprentice know that he was going to enjoy himself even in the presence of somebody trying to ruin his day. He continued to passively hate on this stranger, taking note of the overconfidence that he felt he saw, the title, ‘stranger’ popping in at some point. That was what Brindlepaw was to Marshypaw, and that was all Marshypaw planned on calling him. ‘Stranger.’A stranger… that’s simply all that he deserves to be to me, at the moment. I’m sure he had made it clear that he has no interest in a positive relationship between us, anyway… he can’t be too disappointed, then. And that was all that there was to it. When Marshypaw had finished speaking for the time being, he was just happy to be bothering Brindlepaw for… well, bothering him. It was give and receive with Marshypaw, and that particular kind of karma was the very thing that kept him up and running, alongside drama and chaos. When they clashed together, it was heaven to the russet and cream striped tom-cat. Obnoxious as this might make him seem, Marshypaw simply did not care, and to anybody who called him selfish for these reasons… he still did not care. There was really no point to trying to make him aware of his weaknesses… they were just at the back of his mind all of the time. It wasn’t that he was more focused on his strengths, no- he was incredibly focused on other cats in general, rather than himself, leaving no room for self-reflection. But of course that was alright with him… he never payed any attention to it.
Eventually, Brindlepaw started to speak to him. The tawny and brown apprentice began with his own little title for Marshypaw, going a whole lot further than Marshypaw’s personal choice of ‘stranger’. He seemed to be mocking Marshypaw’s constant usage of the affectionate title, ‘Dear’ and its other variation, ‘Dearest’, calling him ‘Dearest ShadowClan Rat.’ Marshypaw could not help it, and he did not try to, either. He started to laugh lightly, and once he was convinced Brindlepaw had noticed, he added an extra polite hint to his voice as he responded to that interesting choice of a title for him. “Ah, funny words coming from the toad… hm.” Skeptically, Marshypaw gazed upward in the direction of the tawny and brown tom-cat’s gaze as he was spoken to. Brindlepaw’s voice sounded unusually cordial as he told Marshypaw that he wouldn’t say he was the only one who was quite confident, and the usual sinister smirk slipped right back onto Marshypaw’s face. Ah. So this is how it goes. He thought to himself, oddly happy. Well, I’ll just throw something right back at him, I’m sure. Brindlepaw told him that he probably also had great faith in himself, to assume that he would immediately regret his choices after hearing his words. As Brindlepaw kept on speaking, Marshypaw raised a single eyebrow and tilted his head curiously. Aaaaaand now he talks up a storm about his size advantage… oh, of course they always do, the larger ones. Goodness, they’re all so stupid sometimes. Brindlepaw was telling him that Marshypaw was ‘trying to look down on him from his lofty vantage point of three mouse-tails’, and at the sound of that, Marshypaw’s smile broke open into a laugh. Then once it was over, still smiling with exposed teeth form the aftermath of his laughter, he sighed, “Oh, goodness gracious, Stranger, my apologies… I did not realize that I was speaking to a child!” Then after a quick moment of hesitation, narrowing his eyes, Marshypaw grinned. “Oh, my mistake- you’re quite large, less of a child… more… more of a man-child, I take it? Yes… you appear to have the misfortune of all brawn and no brains… I pity you. You must feel so behind, you- oh. That’s right, you’re overconfident- ah, my mistake, my mistake, Dear Stranger… it left me there for a second, your narcissism! Silly me, silly me.”
But he wasn’t finished. Marshypaw was never finished until he had somebody at his throat, until he lost the literal ability to speak. “Now, about my own confidence… well, as a matter a fact, I do view quite fondly of myself, Dear… but here’s the difference between my confidence and your ego…” Leaning forward a little, he smiled, and continued with, “I am confident in my actual strengths… but hm, you, however, are confident in the delusions that you call your talents. I have to feel sympathetic, despite our differences… well, I’m sure you’ll just snap at me, won’t you? They always do… the wannabe gods, always…” Great. With the emotional part of all of that out of the way, now time to talk about their sizes. Marshypaw proudly stared up at his new rival, shamelessly admitting to the obvious difference in their height. “Now, now… moving on, size. Oh, it’s quite a shame that you value our size differences over our intelligence, but… maybe… well, anyway, I can assure you that you judge far, far too quickly.” Marshypaw’s smile twisted into something a bit more sinister, less passive, despite the fact that this was fading into a lie. He had not been battle trained yet, and he did not know how to defend himself. Like, at all. “I’m sure you would regret those fun little words of yours if you happened to stumble into a real fight with me… big, clumsy paws, face of an old mouse… I mean no offense, trust me, but it just goes to show that against me, I’m sure I could easily kick you down into a heap of old, rotting fur… a fun story to tell, that would be… ‘Tales of Confidence and Consequences’… yes?” Then when he spoke his final words, Marshypaw glanced around. “I do not believe that you could manage to land a blow on me, let alone win an entire fight… you’re too… you. So hush until you can prove it.” Then the russet and cream tabby exaggerated a dramatic gasp, pressing a small paw to his mouth before removing it to speak again. The fake sympathy came flooding back into his gaze, and ruefully, he reminded Brindlepaw, “But oh, no… we’re at a gathering, poor you… it seems you’ll just have to wait moons, moons, and moons until we meet in battle… tch- and for the time being? Watch me laugh at your overconfidence, because never will I ever believe your size means a single thing against me. Now, then, am I clear?”
✽❀✽
// Yeah, Marshypaw takes too much pleasure in being a pain to almost everybody. \\
- My characters’ opinions, thoughts, and behaviors are not necessarily a reflection of my own. I can assure you that we are certainly separate beings. -
Re: July Gathering
