"You look bad." A quick and callous observation. Amber eyes are fixed plainly on Fogwatcher, her head having popped up at the sound of his heavy sigh. Swantooth, so used to running on auto and treating her clanmates like a fog to roll through, has found another rare reason to lock in.
And it's only to state the obvious at a cat who might not be very appreciative of it right now.
Even so. She's up, she's turning, she's looking down. She appraises Fogwatcher like a bug on a leaf rather than a clanmate in crisis.
"You were there the last time I was here." This is her second shot at stating the obvious; an acknowledgement of the fact that the tom hasn't moved in quite a bit. A blink, then two. A great deal of staring in between, like she's waiting for Fogwatcher's head to split open so that she can sift through all the answers he must have tucked inside of it. Swantooth would like this. This would be the easiest way to talk to others.
"Are you sick?" In the meantime, her most reliable tool is asking questions.
Flytail sat near the edge of the den milling over his thoughts his brother now had just and a mate he had nothing he felt quite inadequate no that couldn’t be right
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Strawberryshine wanted to see his mate and kits after a long day. But he was to lazy and dozed off. Bloodkit, his daughter, who had snuck out of the nursery slept on top of him. The next day Salmonpelt, his mate, ran around the dens trying to find her kit. “Where’s my kit” Salmonpelt yelled. Bloodkit hid.
The tom walked inside the den in search for some sleep, he wishes he could hunt, but with it being colder it's hard for him to find prey.
__________________ - By Shrew
Osprey
The tom sat in the ditch waiting for an answer from Starclan. "Silverpelt is quiet, maybe being a kittypet was a bad idea."The tom lied down falling asleep.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 42 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat gradually awoke from his slumber, restful for once. Tuftedtusk seemed to already have left for the day, leaving him to catch some extra sleep. He rolled over, blurry yellow eyes adjusting to the light. Giving Newtbelly a flick with his tail.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 42 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat gradually awoke from his slumber, restful for once. Tuftedtusk seemed to already have left for the day, leaving him to catch some extra sleep. He rolled over, blurry yellow eyes adjusting to the light. Giving Newtbelly a flick with his tail.
Newtbelly
[ignore my total lack of a header, I hate using mobile lol :’)]
Hmmm. It was early. Normally he would've gotten up by now, but he wasn't feeling it. Just a little while longer. Work could wait for one day. Just a slumber was about to pull him back in, some feathery fluffy thing flipped against him. Huh?? Had one of his apprentices made their way in? StarClan forbid he sleep in one time.
Amber eyes flickered open, mouth ready to ask what could possibly be going on - till he realised it was just Owlthroat. Ugh, he didn't really have the means to complain about that. "Mornin'" he grumbled, rolling onto his side.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 42 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat rumbled with amusement at Newtbelly’s disgruntled face. ”You’re a bundle of sunshine Newtface”, the tom took a minute to rasp his tongue through his thick fur. It looked unruly, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous grooming. Appearances always remained important, no matter the circumstance. The past few days had been fast paced, it had become somewhat of a chore balancing fatherhood and his duties. But of course that would all change soon.
Stepping into the role of being a father was jumbled, the worry ebbing at his mind. What if they were to go missing, what if his children were to be hurt. Or the worst of all perhaps, what if they became a failure, sorry excuses for warriors. That meant no legacy to leave behind at all. Would he have the time to focus on them? Tuftedtusk seemed to manage, his ever perfect mate. Owlthroat held nothing but undying adoration for him, but sometimes that stung. Always the troubled one, he remained twisted in his ways though he had softened around the edges.
With the offer of becoming an enforcer, he’d taken a firm stance of yes. Prideful, if he was to fail in his role it would destroy him. Both physically and mentally, so he’d do what he did best. Push his success cold heartedly, that meant Newtbelly must also succeed. As a product of his own makings, or so he viewed him. The tom spoke in a hushed tone when he finally opened his mouth, quiet enough so those surrounding him wouldn’t quite catch onto what he was saying and his meaning.
”You think you’ll do a good job?” Owlthroat hoped Newtbelly was at the very least clever enough to catch onto what he was saying. Probably his biggest success, but the cat had become a prodigy. Put in the hard work and this is where it had gotten him.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 42 moons Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2 The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat rumbled with amusement at Newtbelly’s disgruntled face. ”You’re a bundle of sunshine Newtface”, the tom took a minute to rasp his tongue through his thick fur. It looked unruly, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous grooming. Appearances always remained important, no matter the circumstance. The past few days had been fast paced, it had become somewhat of a chore balancing fatherhood and his duties. But of course that would all change soon.
Stepping into the role of being a father was jumbled, the worry ebbing at his mind. What if they were to go missing, what if his children were to be hurt. Or the worst of all perhaps, what if they became a failure, sorry excuses for warriors. That meant no legacy to leave behind at all. Would he have the time to focus on them? Tuftedtusk seemed to manage, his ever perfect mate. Owlthroat held nothing but undying adoration for him, but sometimes that stung. Always the troubled one, he remained twisted in his ways though he had softened around the edges.
With the offer of becoming an enforcer, he’d taken a firm stance of yes. Prideful, if he was to fail in his role it would destroy him. Both physically and mentally, so he’d do what he did best. Push his success cold heartedly, that meant Newtbelly must also succeed. As a product of his own makings, or so he viewed him. The tom spoke in a hushed tone when he finally opened his mouth, quiet enough so those surrounding him wouldn’t quite catch onto what he was saying and his meaning.
”You think you’ll do a good job?” Owlthroat hoped Newtbelly was at the very least clever enough to catch onto what he was saying. Probably his biggest success, but the cat had become a prodigy. Put in the hard work and this is where it had gotten him.
"Mmmm." Sleepy eyes blinked as his face scrunched, still adjusting to the morning. What had possesed the tom to wake him? It wasn't as though this happened often. Think you'll do a good job?
A good job? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It made sense now, as he recalled their conversation with Hawkbite. The two of them were finally enforcers, together. Though the responsiblity did send fear through his bones. He'd expected such an opportunity to arise in 20 moons, maybe. Not right now. Still, he wouldn't allow himself to do a bad job. No matter what got in his way. He'd either excel, or die trying. Those were his options. "I wouldn't let myself dissapoint you, old man." He murmured, flicking the tom with his tail. It was obvious to him that his ex-mentor had been waiting patiently for this day. He had no doubt the more seasoned wariror would suceed.
One problem plauged his mind though. Foggymask had bested Shrewstep in battle, so that would mean working alongside him, no? He couldn't imagine anything worse. Not that he'd met the cat before, but the utter disrespect he'd displayed to the previous enforcer disgusted him. Not that he'd ever critisice him out loud. What Dawnstar says goes. He just had to hope she saw him as unfit for the role. Otherwise, he was sure the two of them would have a problem on their paws.
"You got any plans?" What were they meant to do as enforcers, anyway? Maybe Owlthroat had a few ideas on his mind.
Re: ShadowClan Warriors' Den
- By Shrew
