KEEP WHAT YOU KILL ☆ PRIVATE

[nyme]

AND IT NEVER MADE ANY SENSE, ANYTHING

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ❀ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

MAGGOTPAW . 7 MOONS . IT/THEY . WINDCLAN

Maggotpaw shivers and sulks and sulks and shivers. It's inherited all of its mother's thin fur and seemingly none of her toughness, so as the weather turns colder by the day, Maggotpaw becomes less and less willing to leave its nest even to find a sunbeam to nap in. It'd hide in here forever if it could, sticking its skinny legs out of its nest to trip its denmates and rearranging the tufts of rabbit fluff and bird feathers that it keeps its nest cozy with...only today, something incredible has happened. Something monumental, never before heard of.

Today, Maggotpaw wants to go outside.

They can hardly believe it themself. There they'd been, tightly curled up against the chill of the late morning, chasing after a dream they'd just woken up from where they had been racing after rabbits in the Windy Hills...only, then Maggotpaw realized, it could do that in real life. While it's never fancied itself to be much of a hunter, it has always enjoyed running, especially if there's somethinng to run after or away from, and the idea of finishing a sprint by jumping on a target of some kind is just. It just. It seems so satisfying. Maggotpaw can remember its dream so clearly now, how badly it'd wanted to jump on one of those rabbits.

Okay. Alright. Fine. It'll go try this out for real, then.

Maggotpaw forces itself up, gritting its teeth against the discomfort, and trudges out into the clearing.

"Whisperinghive! Whisperinghive, something's wrong! Help!! Helphelphelp!"

@ChaosBringer. ; WHISPERINGHIVE
you may have a ghost ping; i had this thread in the wrong place at first y_y

[ChaosBringer.]

Whisperinghive
A 12-16 moon old tom with marigold-orange fur, dull green eyes, and a thin scar running from below his left eye down his muzzle to his nose.
Purrks: Killer Aptitude T1 [ACTIVE] Survival Instincts[ACTIVE] Just a Scratch [ACTIVE]



It had been an exhausting few days for the warrior. The smoke, Maggotpaw, new siblings, it all made him eant to bury himself in... something and sleep forever. Yes, he loved his siblings more than anything, but their squeals and constant screaming made his spine itch. Whisperinghive stretched out his legs as he lay in his nest, the tips of his claws unsheathing for a moment. Then the thought his of his apprentice assulted his mind. Maggotpaw. Stubborn, very stubborn, annoying, but an... ok(?) kid. As he thought about what to do with his apprentice today, its shrill screams and cries echoed through the still air. Whisperinghive snapped his head up, his dull green eyes fixed out to the clearing. What was that?! Wait, that was Maggotpaw! The warrior quickly bounded out of the warrior's den and into the clearing and towards Maggotpaw before skidding to a stop in front of them.


"What's wrong? Did something get into the apprentice's den? Did someone claw you?" He asked with great amounts of concern, his fur bristled and his claws digging into the ground.


@nyme

[nyme]

AND IT NEVER MADE ANY SENSE, ANYTHING

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ❀ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

MAGGOTPAW . 7 MOONS . IT/THEY . WINDCLAN

Whisperinghive's concern is...odd. For the first few seconds after the ginger tom arrives Maggotpaw can only stare and blink, wide-eyed. Sure, yes, it had been the one to scream bloody murder in the first place—it just hadn't thought that it would be taken this seriously. They wonder what Whisperinghive would do to someone that had clawed them. Or to something that had really scared them.

It's such a long moment that they spend just staring that Maggotpaw nearly forgets what it had cried wolf over to begin with.

"I want to go outside." Plain, simple. No acknowledgement of why they had to bring this to the lanky warrior's attention by hollering for him like they were being mauled. "I want to go and chase rabbits. I was doing a dream where there were rabbits and I was chasing them and chasing them, and I really wanted to—like this, I wanted to do this,"

Maggotpaw scoots back a ways, leans down into...goodness gracious, that must be what it thinks a hunting crouch looks like...wiggles its bottom and jumps. A handy demonstration. It looks at Whisperinghive imploringly: "I wanted to jump on them like that but I never got so you have to take me outside and let me jump on something. It doesn't even need to be a rabbit." From what it gathers, hunting rabbits is some kind of specialized skill different from hunting normal prey. It doesn't really care what it gets to do today so long as it gets to feel what the dream had felt like again. Maggotpaw circles its mentor impatiently.

"Right now. We have to right now or else I'll chase you and jump on you."

@ChaosBringer. ; WHISPERINGHIVE

[ChaosBringer.]

Whisperinghive
A 12-16 moon old tom with marigold-orange fur, dull green eyes, and a thin scar running from below his left eye down his muzzle to his nose. Purrks: Killer Aptitude T1 Survival Instincts Just a Scratch [ACTIVE]




WHAT?! MAGGOTPAW JUST WANTED TO GO OUTSIDE, SO IT SCREAMED LIKE IT WAS BEING KILLED TO GET WHISPERINGHIVE'S ATTENTION?! Why was his apprentice so infuriating and arrogant? How in the Stars did wanting to hunt rabbits and run around need screaming bloody murder? With gritted teeth, the warrior spoke. "We will go outside and maybe hunt rabbits. But next time, you will ask. You will not scream like a kit. You will ask." Whisperinghive said, his eyes burning into the scrawny apprentice.



@nyme. (Short and late, 'm sorry)