RiverClan Apprentices' Den

[namen_roodles]

SPIDERPAW
Riverclan Apprentice | 7 moons | Lanky, amber eyed, blue-grey tabby she-cat with white paws, chin, and tail tip.
Heightened perception: Smell
~~~

Spiderpaw curled up in her nest and went to sleep after a very long day.

[Shiveringpaw]

Out of the corner of her eye, Shiveringpaw saw Fazepaw waking up. Everthough she was new, Shiveringpaw already had the impression that the tom apprentice was annoying and kinda disturbing. She also knew he was nicknamed panic for the way he panicked over every decision or what he said, and was not even getting a close impression of what his clanmates thought of him.

[bambi]

fawnpaw sat.

[Stone'Paw]

^[Dewpaw]^
`He/Him <-> 6 Moons Old <-> Riverclan Apprentice ,-. Activity post'

He tossed in his nest.

[shoomy]

➤ THE WATCHER'S CROWN ꧂
VINEPAW

a slightly tired pale tabby pawed through the entrance to the underground den, the shadows washing over her. unfortunately for someone there, apparently she didn't autmatically adjust to the change of lighting and she stepped on someone's tail without noticing. completely unbothered, vinepaw laid down in her nest to nap, still completely unaware of the unfrogivable crime she had just committed.
[ @Marigoldwhisper ]

[korok]

header & divider by @/Marigoldwhisper

mind reader - [ active ] | agatha kitty - [ active ]


"Aspenpaw!"

The deputy's voice sounded slightly muffled by the humid air outside the den. "Come on out. It's well overdue that you complete your territory tour. We'll be heading out to Sedgewater Valley, the WindClan border." Sunheart mewed, already turning expectantly towards the camp entrance. "Any questions?"

( @burntToast - sorry for shortness but wanted to get it out! )

[bambi]

Fawnpaw sits

[Marigoldwhisper]

`~Owlstar
She, Her\Leader\53 moons\Riverclan
"My pulse is clear, rushing through my ears."

Purrks: Agatha Kitty [ACTIVE] Killer Aptitude (T2) [INACTIVE]


- - -

She was good with kids. Until she wasn't.

The leader pushed through the lichen in the apprentice den, one clouded eye briefly glancing over the structure of the den. She remembered the paws which formed this area and the tongue who commanded it. Home. A bit rocky, unsure, and definitely less sand than they were used to, but it was home. Better than the mountains, just the same for her paws.

But stars, she'd hate to be anywhere else, she'd hate to be dead.

Her scars still burned, her throat still threatened to give out and push out her guts like she was giving them out for free. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to talk, it hurt to move her head lest she wanted a migraine. Time would heal that, either that or Berryshine with her anxious eyes and stammering tongue.

Speaking of, the leader held a gull in her jaws, large bulky frame carrying herself with purpose. Her vision (or what she had left of it rather... Her lame eye, while only semi functional, had been drowning in a sea of red since the attack) had cleared up mostly by now. Shapes were less fuzzy and more bold, but there was still something she couldn't make out in a face.

She sat just inches to the left of the entrance, breathing like air wasn't free. "Gladepaw." she spoke hoarsely, but surprisingly chipper. "Help a gal out, would ya?" she placed the meal at her large paws, grunting with the effort of bending forward. Stars above, she felt like an old hag. "Cain't seem ta get the eyes outta this thing, miss it by the fox tail I tell ya."

No matter how hard she squinted, the spots in her vision wouldn't go away. Minute details were lost to her, and it left Owlstar disappointed. It was fun to see the expressions of others, even more enjoyable to watch the life leave the eyes of her prey. Loosing that was like loosing herself.

Surely Gladepaw wouldn't mind. If she did though, Owlstar wasn't afraid of eating some eyeballs, even if on accident.

Tags:
@iliri // Gladepaw

[iliri]

Gladepaw
long-furred, scarred, dark brown classic tabby with amber eyes
purrks: n/a
she/they | rc apprentice | 6 moons

---

She was smoothing the edges of her nest again. Tucked near the back of the apprentices’ den where the moss grew thickest and the walls curved gently inward, her nest sat a little askew from the others. It was built low and wide, lined with gray and brown dappled feathers she’d collected around the edges of camp. She liked how the feathers felt against her fur, soft yet firm enough to give her a sense of warmth and grounding. It wasn’t much - nothing like the intricate nests of older apprentices - but it was hers. She let her paws brush over the moss a little more, making sure it was still packed tight, smoothing out stray pieces of it like she was trying to smooth away the poundage of her thoughts. Her tail whisked restlessly behind her, the tip just barely grazing against the soft earth. She knew she should probably be doing something more... apprentice-like. Like training, or helping around camp. Something useful for a molly like herself. But instead, she was caught up in the small, familiar task of shaping her nest. It was comforting in a way that nothing else in the camp had been since her arrival a few moons ago. The soft padding of the moss and the steady rhythm of her movements calmed the flickering of her thoughts.

It was quiet beneath the thick arch of shrubs and moss, where the sounds of camp felt distant and muted to her ears. She wasn’t great with noise - never had been - but here, everything felt a little more manageable. The muffled rustle of leaves outside was a reminder of everything going on around her, but it didn’t intrude the way voices did. She could hear them, sure, but they felt like distant echoes, not urgent calls for attention. Here, in her little corner of the den, she could breathe. Her tail flicked again, sweeping across the moss with a soft rustle. The sound comforted her as much as the familiar scent of earth and dampness that clung to the walls of the den. The nest had become her safe space, a small corner of calm in the whirlwind of unfamiliarity and expectations that had come with being an apprentice. She wished she could make herself feel more at home outside of this space. Sometimes, she felt so out of place, like the camp was a vast sea and she was just a leaf floating on it. It was hard some days to feel like she belonged anywhere, even if others assured her she did. The significance of her thoughts carried her light paws back to the soft edges of her nest, where she smoothed out another stray tuft of moss. She was just about to give the nest a little shake when the low sound of pawsteps broke through her focus.

The sudden, unexpected company made her freeze. Her ears abruptly flicked back, heart stuttering in her chest as she instinctively shrank into herself. Before she could even react, a familiar voice rang out through the den, startling her into expelling out a quiet ‘eep!’. Gladepaw’s body stiffened, her fur prickling with the shock of the sudden voice. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the startled flutter in her chest, but her paws trembled a little as she slowly turned to face the source. The words hung in her ears, echoing a little too loudly in the tranquility of the den. It took a moment before her brain caught up with the realization that it was Owlstar of all cats and that she was standing just outside the apprentices’ den. Oh what a way to make an impression in front of the leader. Gladepaw quickly ducked her head in a flustered attempt to hide her flustered expression, the embarrassment flushing through her fur like wildfire. Her tail curled tightly around her side as she blinked nervously, unsure of how to respond. “O-Owlstar!” she stammered, uncoordinated paws suddenly scrambling along the ground as the name fumbled from her lips, sounding more like a helpless squeak than anything coherent. Gladepaw’s ears flattened against her head in sheer embarrassment, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

The leader’s sudden presence threw her entirely off-balance, leaving her unsure of what to do with her paws or her wide, blinking eyes. She could feel the heat of her cheeks burning, and her tail pressed more against her side as if it could somehow hide her from the weight of the moment. How long had Owlstar been standing there? The suddenness of her arrival made the quietude of the den feel like it had never existed, leaving nothing but the sting of her own discomfort in its wake. Her gaze flicked nervously to the entrance, her chest tightening as she tried to push past the aggressive barrage of thoughts crowding her mind. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to respond? Her mouth felt dry, and the weight of the leader’s gaze, even if it wasn’t sharp, made her want to sink into the earth and disappear. But then, much to her surprise, Owlstar’s voice came through again. Though this time a little hoarse but somehow light, managing to cut through her flustered state with a strangely comforting ease. The smaller tabby blinked inquisitively as her wide amber eyes darted at the gull lying at her paws. The sudden shift in atmosphere took Gladepaw a moment to process. She blinked rapidly as Owlstar spoke again, her tone surprisingly light despite the rasping sound that accompanied it. The leader seemed almost too casual for a moment, and it caught Gladepaw off guard.

Her mind scrambled for an appropriate response, her heart still racing from the shock of the intrusion. “I, uh…” Gladepaw stuttered, trying to focus on the task in front of her. Her paws hovered over the gull, still unsure of what to do. The initial surprise made her feel like a kit caught in a mess she hadn’t made, but the leader’s presence was starting to sink in more clearly. Owlstar was… asking for her help? The thought made her stomach flutter with anxiety, though part of her recognized the kindness in the request. She wasn’t being ordered around, just… needed. “I-I can h-help,” Gladepaw murmured again, a little more sure this time as some strength weaved into her voice. “But… h-how c-can I help? What… what d-do you want m-me to do to g-g-get them o-out?” It felt embarrassing having to ask for assistance, but it wasn’t like she had done this before. What kind of cat with a sane mind plucked eyeballs out of a deceased bird? Surely not her!

@Marigoldwhisper

[crow.]

Murkypaw laid in her nest, watching the leader and apprentice. Thank the stars for her enjoyment of taking apart prey.

[OPEN]