WOLFSHADOW colossal heavily-scarred tom with pitch black fur and blazing yellow eyes
The Wolf's enigmatic eyes, like smoldering embers, scrutinized the young cat before him. The air seemed charged with unspoken tales, a silent acknowledgment between two beings burdened by their own narratives. The apprentice's uncertainty hung in the morning mist, a wispy counterpart to the seasoned warrior's lingering shadows.
"Well," Wolfshadow began, his voice a deep resonance that echoed through the quiet camp, "you are only a burden if you waste my time." His words carried a subtle undercurrent of humor, dark in tone, but a light jab at the young apprentice's nonsense comment. His face, however, stone cold. "So tell me. What do you know? Have you ever fought before? Caught prey?" The Wolf's mind, like a willy fox, danced in the pleasure of circling Shrewpaw's mind, with an unconscious attempt to silence the horrors that lurked within his own thoughts.
*-Asterpaw-*
37/100
he/him || 10moons || go with the flow: inactive Lanky, flame point siamese with heterochromatic eyes
Surprising was a word Aster could use to describe the situation he was currently placed in. Not unwelcome, just... surprising. There were few cats who the lanky cat really knew in this clan, and one of them was dead, but he didn't quite know who this one was just yet, so the sudden call to action was unexpected. Still, though, he followed curiously.
"What do you mean by that?" He mews a question, "I wasn't told to do anything, I didn't know if I was, uh, how do I put it? Allowed to, I guess?" A poor explanation, but that really was all there was to it. He didn't know what he was and wasn't allowed to do so he'd resolved to stay out of the way until someone specifically called for and needed him. That, he found, was a good way to stay out of trouble. Not the best way, clearly, but a good way.
"You joined our Clan." Wolfpaw kept his voice stiff, unwavering. "So earn your keep. Sitting around all the time and waitin' for things to come isn't how things work around here." And he'd know, too, if he cared.
Wolfpaw didn't see why Bumba wanted this one as an apprentice, too. They seemed .. unmotivated, lazy. Disinterested in being an actual Clan cat. If lounging around was their goal, the Twolegplace always had openings. (he knows he's being harsh, and doesn't opt to voice these)
Wolfpaw didn't go too far from the nursery after they slipped outside, not needing to when he had dumped a bundle of fresh moss outside the den earlier. He dropped the dirty nest off a ways from it to keep it from contaminating the new stuff. Ugh, kits were gross.
Fortunately for Beachkit, there WERE feathers scattered about - earlier, Wolfpaw had saved the feathers from a bird and, knowing the kits would take a liking to it - dropped some throughout the clearing. They weren't concealed necessarily, but the wind did knock some beyond his initial placement. "While I'm moving the moss around, why don't you grab what feathers you can? The more you bring back, the more soft and warm your nest will be!"
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Beachkit -
Beachkit didn't wonder how precisely feathers came to be in the clearing, scattered about apparently, but just diligently went looking for them since it was something new and not another boring day wandering (moping) waiting for something to happen.
Before he could get too into the weeds of a search, a small gust brought a feather tumbling through the clearing itself and he bolted to pounce on it. Missed once, and leap-swatted again, and another time -- then finally landed with the wind-dancing feather between his paws. But now that he had it, he didn't know how to keep the thing from running off again so resorted to bringing it to Wolfpaw with instructions: "Don't let the prisoner escape!"
He had others to hunt down, and did so with somewhat decent efficiency in that he didn't get too distracted by passing conversations or nearby sounds of the forest. A feather here, a feather there, even found a not-feather but it was lightweight like one! And kind of long. It was like a tube-feather! With a weird texture too.
Beachkit stood proudly at the collected feathers (and extra "feather") to puff his chest. "Look at all these! My nest is going to be so soft! Or.. do I have to share them with the other stinky kits?" They didn't even help collect them!
Wolfpaw only had a few moments to roll the stale bedding out of camp. He had never formally been shown what to do with it, so he was just doing his best - outta sight, outta mind.
When he returned to the moss spot, Beachkit had already recovered a feather and was dropping it off. "No promises!" He called after the departing kit, thinly masking a smile while taking a seat by the feather and pinning it beneath a paw so it truly was imprisoned. The feathers were the main thing they were waiting on, so as Beachkit went around collecting.
Soon enough, Beachkit had an impressive little pile. "Well done!" Kits liked praised, right? He couldn't remember -- "You're a feather collectin' pro already." He was glad he had a lil minion to worry about that part of the bedding, it meant he had less to carry. "No, they're all yours bud. The others didn't want their nests tidied so they're missin' out on feather time."
Wolfpaw got back to his paws, freeing the mini prisoner as he moved to grab the moss bundle. "Yew rhedy tgo 'ack?"
no sir I haven’t done any training yet. I was only apprenticed a few days ago however I haven’t been given a mentor yet. he pauses I think during the colder weather hunting would be more valuable information instead of fighting. Feeding our clan should come first and foremost during the colder seasons. he felt very nervous around the larger cat and the more wolfshadow stared at him the more uncomfortable he became. It was like his gaze could see right through him into the most innermost parts of his soul. Steeling his resolve he faced the amber eyed warrior with determination on his face. If your willing to teach me I’m willing to put forth ten times the effort to help my clan. shuffling his paw in the dirt below him out of habit.
( trying to do shorter post until the training actually begins )
@Doom
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꧁༺ inside this place is warm, Outside it starts to pour ༻꧂
Ears perked as the Apprentice shuffled off towards the Prey Pile. Doing his best to keep himself from picking the other up by the scruff and stashing him away in his nest. Wasn't his kit. Ospreypaw was not his kit. Surely the Apprentice didn't view him as a dad either. Surely not, these were new feelings that he was mis-interperting. He would shove them down for now.
Scooting over to make space for the Apprentice as he laid himself down. "If you want, come sit down eat your food, n let me know what happened out there." he hummed.
☄. *. ⋆ Ospreypaw
The tabby tom nodded as he quickly grabbed the bird before curling up next Spiderthroat, taking in his warmth. He pulled off some feathers off the bird before he started to eat it, taking a few bites before speaking, "I..It's kind of blurry to me really. I think I was just so frightened. I don't understand how I go to where I was, which was some kind of woods that had twolegs at times."
He took some more bites of the bird, licking his maw as he thought, "I was just trying to survive...there was luckily prey so I was able to eat though I missed everyone. That's when I was able to find myself back, just because I wanted to be back here."
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bump after a week
posting days are tuesday, thursday, and saturday if i happen to post outside of this, it's for my own enjoyment staff sign here
dracarys - dani <3
oh look a fossil
RAHHHH (velli)
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Beachkit -
Beachkit plopped down into prime-loafing position to enjoy the story as Wolfpaw's details began curating a mental image for him. Branchfoot was a stupid name. Whoever the leader was when ThunderClan was a kit needed to get a grip on their naming practices. How did one even have a foot that resembled a branch??????
But he tried not to get too tangled in that minute issue, ears tilted forward in interest at this baby-warrior's problematic behavior. Calling out that there was a dog... that was kind of a good idea to relieve boredom, but Beachkit could only imagine the wrath it would incur. Without the consequences of his actions to worry about, he'd probably have done the same on more than one occasion.
At the inquiry, Beachkit frowned slightly. "My mom said I can't fight dogs yet." Unless he was a warrior in this scenario, then . . would he still have to ask his mom? He couldn't bring himself to be that heartbroken anyway, he didn't WANT to fight a dog. They sounded big and mean and dangerous. So, he had an idea: "I'd get you to help them."
Wolfpaw had to admit, having a kit be so transfixed on a story was kinda endearing. He had to wonder if he once looked like that -- before apprenticeship and the struggles that came with trying to train.
... Wolfpaw hadn't been considering the "as is" perspective, he assumed Beachkit would answer as if he were a warrior handling it. "No - you're not allowed to fight dogs!! Leave that to the purrfessionals." He puffed his chest up, as if embellishing how tough and professional he was. So fierce.
"At their call, several warriors came to their assistance - ready to drive the dog off. 'Where is it??' they demanded. 'Where'd it go?'
"'Hah!!' Branchfoot cackled with glee. 'I got you good, there is no dog!'
"The warriors were furious with Branchfoot, and told them to knock it off. 'Do not yell for help if there's no threat!' They angrily said before they left.
"Well, Branchfoot simply didn't care. The next time they were camp guard, they got bored again - being on watch did not excite them. Again, they decided to fool around. 'Dog! A dog is coming! Help!'"
Wolfpaw paused. "How'd you think the warriors felt about this?"
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Beachkit -
Kudos to the fictional Branchfoot for being so easily entertained that they got endless enjoyment out of guarding camp, then crying there was a dog, then reveling in the Clan being mad at them. Enough to potentially do it more than once. Beachkit could admire that level of simplemindedness. Not even refreshing what animal their fake-threat was seemed kind of dull.
But nonetheless, it confused him. That a warrior (or anyone) would WANT the Clan to be mad at them, finding fun in the activity somehow. He wanted to be liked! Not despised! Because it didn't compute to him, he could only land on the conclusion that Branchfoot was doing it wrong.
Beachkit made a face. "Did they fall for it again!? Oh, and probably did not let Branchfoot on guard duty anymore...? They are the worst guard! A pebble would do a better job." He couldn't envision a leader like Bumblestar putting up with such a menace to society.
