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"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever"
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Rose littered this profile with flowers
]@/Beanz@/mars@/Merp Machine@/CrimsionOaks@/WCUEhoneyfur@/Hollyheart of thunder@/MaplestrikeWCUE@/PINTO BEAN@/AriaTheFiremaiden@/Mike29@/constellation@/Snowyfeathr@/KestrelPaw
StoatLeap stretched out her paws at the leaders call, she had been rather inactive to her displeasure as she took more time to ensure her currently only kit wasn’t dying in a ditch somewhere. She was planning to going straight back into her duties as a warrior but she certainly wasn’t as used to being around other prey cats as much as tick paw was now. But that was the purpose of raising him here- he was supposed to be the perfect predator and know his prey. StoatLeap grimaced at her thoughts, she hoped she hadn’t passed down whatever wandering tendencies her mind had adapted. It was bad enough her now only kit was bright glaring ginger.
Speaking of the rat himself she caught his gaze and beckoned him over with a back and forth flick off her tail before returning her attention to the meeting. Her fury over the failures had soothed but she still struggled to offer any friendliness. Her eyes were too acute to miss such a massive failure on display.
TickPaw felt his gaze skim over the gathering crowd. A large crowd. A large crowd of prey-cats specifically with few faces he recognised enough to pick out. Tail swaying he searched for a cat to sit near- one that wouldn’t mind being directly next to someone who would undoubtedly stare at them the whole time. He started moving to sit somewhere when a movement caught his eye- a tail waving and a pair of eyes on him. Mother. TickPaw scurried over to seat himself next to her, had Mother forgiven him for being so incompetent? Maybe she’d seen all the effort he put into this stuff! The thought drew a smile onto his face that soon died as he caught mother’s glare. Anger still burned in that face. TickPaw lowered his head and shuffled his paws over one another before turning his attention to the meeting. How much longer would he have to prove himself to be seen as perfect in mothers eyes? The last time she was proud of him was… the hunt. Was she waiting for tickpaw to… kill someone? The thought wasn’t as bitter tasting as TickPaw heard it should be, his stomach had felt like a gaping sinkhole since that moment and it had been bugging him- but the thought had definitely pried open a split in his mind. He was farr too inexperienced anyway- but excusing it would just disappoint mother and his lack of experience or size had never stopped her from dragging him into the territory to watch her work.
He shook his head to swat away the thoughts. Focus on meeting. Asking mother about this can come later.
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Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat raised his haunches at Dawnstar’s roar. Another clan meeting, taking his time he shook the dust out from his fur. He’d spent the majority of the morning basking in a couple of sunlit patches, the patrol the other day had gone well enough. Huffing to himself sarcastically. Managing to escape relatively unscathed from a swarm of angry bees whilst collecting moss and dandelions. Only being stung once in his paw, the swelling had completely died down now, but the ache wasn’t completely gone. No point bothering the healers over something so insignificant.
Now where to sit himself? Owlthroat’s yellow eyes washed over the gathering cats, he quickly locked onto Flytail. That was manageable, he wasn’t in the worst of moods and found himself actually quite eager to listen in for once. Lately it was like sparks had been shot at him, the motivation came more naturally. Perhaps that meant he’d finally settled into the new camp.
Broad shoulders sauntered their way through, as he made space for himself. Curling his broad tail to signify others better move before he made them move. Arrogance so infectious, he was sort of glad his brother never was quite as bolshy as he was. Yes they clashed heads at times but Owlthroat was almost sure if they had turned out as twins one or the other would have been dead by now.
”Brother”, Nodding his head Owlthroat’s voice came out rough. Nothing more than a polite formality, he’d talk about his recent escapades if he was pressed. But more than anything he wanted to stand out, setting his sights on growing and domineering the clan. Never had he found himself idling towards command until now, but he wanted control bad. A mixture perhaps of loosing it in other areas and seeing what he believed to be poor decisions as of late. Knowing he could do better, wanting desperately to leave a shining mark of hubris in his name and legacy.
Well, Dawnstar looked pretty irked, she noted as she arrived beneath the jagged wood of the Grimpeak. Best not to keep her waiting, then–she sat with her tail neatly curled over her paws, green eyes lifting to peer up at her leader.
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Bump Policy: 72 hours! Often inactive on weekends!
Drizzlecloud Midnightpaw Smolderkit
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat raised his haunches at Dawnstar’s roar. Another clan meeting, taking his time he shook the dust out from his fur. He’d spent the majority of the morning basking in a couple of sunlit patches, the patrol the other day had gone well enough. Huffing to himself sarcastically. Managing to escape relatively unscathed from a swarm of angry bees whilst collecting moss and dandelions. Only being stung once in his paw, the swelling had completely died down now, but the ache wasn’t completely gone. No point bothering the healers over something so insignificant.
Now where to sit himself? Owlthroat’s yellow eyes washed over the gathering cats, he quickly locked onto Flytail. That was manageable, he wasn’t in the worst of moods and found himself actually quite eager to listen in for once. Lately it was like sparks had been shot at him, the motivation came more naturally. Perhaps that meant he’d finally settled into the new camp.
Broad shoulders sauntered their way through, as he made space for himself. Curling his broad tail to signify others better move before he made them move. Arrogance so infectious, he was sort of glad his brother never was quite as bolshy as he was. Yes they clashed heads at times but Owlthroat was almost sure if they had turned out as twins one or the other would have been dead by now.
”Brother”, Nodding his head Owlthroat’s voice came out rough. Nothing more than a polite formality, he’d talk about his recent escapades if he was pressed. But more than anything he wanted to stand out, setting his sights on growing and domineering the clan. Never had he found himself idling towards command until now, but he wanted control bad. A mixture perhaps of loosing it in other areas and seeing what he believed to be poor decisions as of late. Knowing he could do better, wanting desperately to leave a shining mark of hubris in his name and legacy.
The marbled tom raised his head at his leaders call, gazing around before his eyes lighted on Owlthroat and another cat he didn't quite recognize. Padding over, he just barely caught Owl calling this cat brother before he sat down.
"Hello Owlthroat. Is this your brother?" He asked, blinking slowly. Turning to the other cat, he would dip his head. "Hello. I'm Tuftedtusk. You are?"
Re: ShadowClan Grimpeak
