ShadowClan Clearing

[Spider.]

Fishkit|shadowclan kit|five moons|she/her

Fishkit sat down wrapping her thin tail around her tan paws growling to herself. The sun was shining down warming her back she was gonna be an apprentice soon! she just had to get through this moon then she can train to be like her papa fishkit thought. A small train of thoughts were broken, her head moved snapped into the direction of the white kit, Oh shes seen this one before much younger then fishkit...this white kit was a quiet one to say the least, actually she never heard them even talk strang fishkit narrowed her green eyes letting out a soft growl before standing up.

Fishkit gave a toothy smile watch where ya going it might have came out meaner then she intended.

(posting struggles)

[Daragca]

Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons
Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2
The Dancing Bird

He’d clearly touched the old feline’s nerves, perhaps a little too much. But he was right when he spoke, Darkleaf clearly painted herself as a sorry excuse for a cat. Prickling fur edged up his spine sideways, almost tempted to raise a paw out of anger and strike her down there and now. But too many eyes watched from the shadows, he had to mind his own back. She remained clearly misguided as ever, clinging onto ideas of peace and smiles that would never come.

”Surely you’re old enough to know Shadowclan’s blood is Shadowclan's alone.” The tom rasped, tainted with arrogance and ill put experience. Anger bubbled through him so quickly, blame was exactly what he needed. A place to put all the horrible things in the world and in his mind. ”Beaten cats look like you, Darkleaf, cats who refuse to give any passion. Who refuse their duties and when it comes down to it will cower.” It wasn’t even half true what he was saying but it all came blathering out. Most of it imbued with deeper, much more twisted meaning.

Maybe he was a stone wall, sealed up so tight nothing really escaped and filtered through. Even to Tuftedtusk he never showed his deepest darkest desires, parading like shadows through the clearing. He was mean and nasty and cruel. Not at all like who he really should be. Carved through vile experiences and a hardened outer shell, there was some softness of course. But was that softness even entirely genuine? A mystery for the ages.

”See how much glory sharing tongues and coddling kits gets you.” A spiteful comment. One hissed through clenched crooked teeth, niceties wiped away. He rose up shaking out his inky splotched fur, tension clearly visible in his muscles and how stiff he carried himself. Making his way towards the forest, done with the conversation. Attempting to clear his bubbling woes.

All hail the sinking king.

[​​ @sleepyyjax ]