Shrewstep wasn't a cat to panic unnecessarily. He had a bit of nerve, a bit of guile, a bit of backbone to him. He'd needed it more times than he could count, more times than he'd have liked in his younger years. But as Foggymask leaned in, teeth and snout bloody to hiss in his ear, Shrewstep was kind of freaking out. His eyes widened, his breath came quickly, and he realized what was about to happen. Even before Foggymask's teeth dug into his scruff, he knew what was coming.
For so long his size had been a point of insecurity, of shame, a thing he'd felt needed overcoming. Perhaps if he hadn't been so fixated upon it in the first place it wouldn't have proved as big of a hinderance as it had. After all, if you don't know you have a weakness, you can't overcompensate for it as Shrewstep tended to do. But the inferiority complex that had become ingrained within him wasn't going to die at this point, no, it most certainly wasn't. So as he flew through the air, though it was only a brief moment, what he really felt was resignation. Of course this was happening. It had always been coming, since his very birth probably.
The setting of The Yeetening wasn't what he expected. Of course not. Shrewstep had had so many plans for his life he'd lost track of which one he'd ended up on by now. There had been a plan in which he and Foggybrook raised adorable kits, and Blackhaze raised his own, and they were an adorable little couple. Then Windclan, Twilightstar and the death of Icestar, had shattered that dream like ice. It could have come in that battle. Dawnstar's bloody rise to power, just after becoming deputy, and his own need to resist, following Blackhaze like a little lamb. It could have come then, in some glorious resistance. Instead, he had cowered as his mentor died, promising to protect Foggybrook.
It could have come any time during the skirmishes with Windclan, during his warriors assessment even. Anytime. When he'd been planning a life with Lilyheart instead, and messing things up with Falconfur. Duking it out with Frogfrang and Fiercefire, clinging to Ebonyfang as his friend. Marigoldleap now. Stars above, she'd be disappointed in him. Blackhaze would be too. Even in his time as an Outsider it could have come. In the battle with the minks it had been unlikely, but it could have happened since his triumphant? return to Shadowclan. Briefly triumphant, anyway. Ambition replaced rage which had supplanted love. Now he didn't know WHAT the dominant emotion within him was. Shame, probably.
It wasn't exactly a near-death experience, but Shrewstep got a lot of thinking in as he flew through the air like a lump of freshkill. And then he landed.
The Yeetening, already so mentally damaging, added some significant insult to injury in the physical realm. The air was driven from his lungs in a puff that sent dust flying, immediately returning to wriggle into his eyes. OUCH. His whole frame rattled, bouncing slightly as it deformed upon contact. A soft yelp left him, and for a moment he lay stunned. Shrewstep could already feel the bruises forming. He tried to get up, accidentally attempting the use of his bad, left hind leg, and instead decided that glaring balefully up at Foggymask was a better course of action. The effect might have been hampered by his general flatness.
And then the teeth were in his scruff again (Please please please don't throw me again, Shrewstep actually didn't think he could handle it not again he swore to Starclan he would actually lose it) and he was upright. A bit unsteady, not putting weight on his left hind, but he was upright and Hawkbite was storming over. Oh dear. Well, or not. At least Foggymask wouldn't be an absolute JERK anymore, shaking his paw after he just basically tried to kill him, yeeting him into the air and letting him land in a crumpled heap. The other tom couldn't be all sarcastic and horrible and CONDESCENDING if Hawkbite was here. But this did also mean he was about to get very embarrassingly demoted in front of the entire clan, so there was a thorn to every rose.
It was actually.....less mean than he had imagined. It was scathing criticism, yes, but he wasn't being called an abject failure as a clanmate. That was something, he supposed. Shrewstep felt almost relieved, though a quick glance at the crowd minus one Clovepool quickly got that brief feeling of release out of his system. Oh crap. He was in deep trouble. But a response to Hawkbite. He needed that. Yes. He had no words for that rat Foggymask, who was quickly climbing towards the 'priveleged' position Frogfang occupied in his mind, but he did have to respond to the Enforcer who clearly had no ill will towards him.
If it were going too I'd show myself out now. he grunted, because that just.....felt like the right thing to say. If this was going to turn him into a useless lump he might as well leave before Dawnstar chased him out, he'd learned that lesson well after all these moons. And ha! It seemed like Foggymask wasn't getting all the flowers anyway! So he might be kind of horribly beat up and very embarrassed, but Shrewstep was still fully capable of schadenfreude at the lack of immediate promotion by, and apparent irritation from, Hawkbite. Take that, you rat! He had the good sense to keep his less than mature thoughts inside, however, and instead made his way in the general direction of Rookfire. Ugh. Getting patched up was going to SUCK. @
otter @
SuspiciousMindz
Re: Enforcer Challenge [spectators welcome]
