SQUIRRELRISE she/her. 12 moons. small, scarred russet molly with brown markings and yellow eyes.
[ chill of death ]
squirrelrises mind is torn between desperately craving uninterrupted sleep, and debating whether or not she should work herself to the bone. for now, she just sits outside of the warrior's den, blinking wearily. glancing around the clearing, she catches sight of a familiar pelt. gutspaw ...who she is..still intimidated by, if she's honest. bite is very blunt, something she's not. and it's doing ..something.
she peers at it with a quizzical look for a moment, paws giving a small shuffle as she wonders if she should approach teeth or not. after a moments consideration, she stands and pads over. upon closer inspection, she realizes that's gutspaw is weaving braided ferns through it's nest. she's seen feathers and rocks decorating a nest, but never weaved ferns. it's pretty.
"er..." she starts off quietly, "...hello..g-gutspaw." a simple enough greeting..so good so far. "that looks pretty." she says, gesturing to the ferns bite was currently weaving through edges of its nest with a small point of her paw.
Rainpaw sat quietly, watching the cats around the camp do clan things. With the restrictions of no one leaving camp without some sort of permission, she considered herself going stir-crazy. Her paws worked into the dirt anxiously. She could feel the increased heartrate from the anxiety rising in her chest. She hated it. She hated feeling how she did. The black and white she-cat couldn't keep up with the other apprentices. She was worthless.
Worthless.
She'd never succeed as a warrior. So, what was she still doing here?
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch The Dancing Bird
Hawkbite’s unnaturally large teeth stared down at him as he pressured him to admit his loss. He hesitated, no he hadn’t lost. Had he? Then he looked at the situation, he was vulnerable on his back. This was just embarrassing, Owlthroat felt red hot all over. Gave one last attempt to wriggle free then went limp. It marred him painfully to do so, his ego felt like it had taken some real damage here. In front of other cats too, it wasn’t like he was in the middle of nowhere. It was humiliating, but the last bit of cleverness left in his brain told him to give it up.
Hawkbite was the Commander for a reason, to struggle more would only further his patheticness. He’d have to swallow this down with humility and grace. Ugh.
”I submit.” He had masked his words carefully, they sounded humble and soft at the edges as they spilled from his maw. He gave a confirming nod to Hawkbite, he had to unwillingly respect him. Clearly talented in battle, but it was infuriating that Owlthroat became arrogant. Mind still racing with the possibilities of winning, more practice was in order. The tom was becoming rusty surely, concocting every excuse under the sun to why he didn’t win. Never would he admit to himself that he lacked the same skill, never ever.
Owlthroat pulled himself out from under Hawkbite and shook off his dusty pelt. Be humble, be humble, be humble. ”Thank you Hawkbite, I enjoyed that.” The mask was firmly and quite assuredly in place as he flashed a warm grin, Owlthroat sounded truly genuine. Of course he didn’t enjoy it, but he only had himself to hold to the claws. Next time he wouldn’t put the question out to all, just cats he knew he could destroy swiftly. That would definitely help him to improve his skill, at least that’s what he could convince himself.
Only once Owlthroat admitted defeat, did Hawkbite let him up willingly. A small smirk played on his lips, something that often wasn't displayed to just anyone. He'd listen to the warrior's words before giving a small huff of agreement. "I had fun. Nice to get behind a couple good smacks. You probably would've had me if you gave your movements more thoughts," Hawkbite spoke, letting his tongue rasp over his aching chest.
The Commander would sit down, looking upwards at Owlthroat with a curious expression. "You'll have to let me know if you ever want a rematch. Keep my reflexes in check so I don't take those barreling attacks as easily," Hawkbite would muse before starting to groom his messy pelt.
Whether Owlthroat would dismiss himself or continue a quick chat was up to him. Hawkbite wouldn't care. The warrior had earned a spot on his less irritable list. He could respect that.
Pondpaw had been relaxing in a warm patch on sunshine when she caught sight of a distressed-looking Rainpaw. Blinking sympathetically, the former RiverClanner got to her paws, stretched, and padded over to her fellow apprentice.
“Rainpaw?” The mottled blue-gray mackerel tabby tipped her head to the side slightly as she sat down beside the she-cat. “I know you don’t know me, and I’m Pondpaw. I couldn’t help but notice something was wrong, so are you willing to tell me what it is? You don’t have to, of course, if you don’t want to.”
Pondpaw gave a smile, looking at Rainpaw through blue eyes. “If you do decide to talk, don’t lie to me. I’m pretty good at reading facial expressions.” (reference to the purrk mind reader.)
Rainpaw barely noticed as Pondpaw padded towards her. She'd been too anxiously kneading the ground and staring at the camp entrance, that she'd gotten lost in her thoughts.
Leave or stay. Leave or stay. Leave or stay???
"Oh, huh? Hi..." Rainpaw would turn to look at Pondpaw, a little startled. The mention of not lying to her made her uneasy. Why do cats say that? It's so odd. Whatever, it wasn't like she knew this cat very well anyway. "I guess I'm just going stir-crazy. I don't know where my mentor went and no one's really offering me training aside from Hawkbite," the black and white apprentice replied.
She noticed herself still kneading the ground and stopped herself, staring down at her paws now instead of looking at Pondpaw. While it was half the truth, Rainpaw refused to admit her secrets. She felt abanonded here. The daughter of the infamous Lostspark and Darkfall and nothing to show for it.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch The Dancing Bird
Hawkbite’s comments lightened his mood slightly, the Commander admitted to Owlthroat’s hits. That shelved his embarrassment a tad, at least he did have that. Mirroring his actions loosely he began to groom through his thick fur. Pulling out a few remaining bits of debris and dust that dulled it. At the very least he had learnt something here, he’d applied himself but gotten arrogant with his movements and too self-assured.
”Agreed a rematch would be good, I still have things to learn, you tested my strength.” Owlthroat nodded warmly in his direction. The words, things to learn, stung his throat a little. His self image marred, it wouldn’t be a session to forget that would be for sure. Next time he’d get his own back, do his research. Counter Hawkbite’s moves better, with less force and perhaps more grace. Then he could claim his true victory.
”Till next time”, speaking softly. Shooting a wink in the tom’s direction before he sauntered away to find a hollow to doze off the stupor. His mask was perfect towards Hawkbite, but a good sulk was surely needed. To mull over where it went wrong and even the damage it may have caused his reputation. Nurse his bloody nose and lick it clean. Ever a sore loser, deep down.
Marshypaw
Male / *Ahem* Moons / ShadowClan / Sexuality Unknown
Russet tabby tom with cream-brown fur around the torso, blue and yellow heterochromatic eyes, and a naturally sinister expression
“Well there’s no point to misery without joy, now is there? Just like there’s no point to beauty without brains! That last part is something that you, my friend, need to work on!”
~Marshypaw
✽❀✽
Well, maybe Willowpaw was not the boldest of all bold things, but at least she was trying. In Marshypaw’s opinion, technically that was all that really mattered. The nerve-wracked apprentice was something that the russet and cream tom had not seen before, and her personality was not generic, it was not boring, and it was not average, so he felt an automatic love for it. As awkward as it was to stand here while she fell over in anxiety, panic, and self-loathing, it was oddly entertaining for somebody like Marshypaw. It out an end to his joy-eating boredom, and more importantly, it gave him some new relationships in his life. The russet and cream tabby apprentice could only hope that he and Willowpaw actually developed a decent friendship at least, if not something deeper, like a close friendship. Heck, maybe romance would even decide to say hello at some point, Marshypaw had no idea. He needed it somewhere, and young as he was, he had already decided that he was running out of time… at seven and a half moons. Upsetting as this may be, he found his own struggles pretty funny, so he allowed them to keep happening. If Willowpaw was his one step closer to a decently interesting lifestyle, well then perfect, he was going to take it. Hopefully he could bring her some happiness and confidence during the process. Yes, and then knock it all back down at the end because… chaos! His yellow and blue gaze gleamed with joy at the thought. Of course! He was a drama-genius! But we can’t get too far ahead of ourselves… I still have to get her through this interaction without her dying of a heart-attack. I have to wonder how she’s gotten this far, though… ah, anyway. Time to try to be decently supportive, yes?
When he finally told her that her name sounded pretty, just casual nice-guy/gentleman small talk, he found the tortoiseshell apprentice staring at him as if he had just told her that he planned on setting fire to camp or something else completely absurd. So squinting at his anxious denmate, Marshaw tilted his head to the side in confusion. I suppose it might be her resting face? Well… we’ll just have to wait and see. Hopefully I can actually process her words next time she speaks to me, though. But he still had some speaking to do. Marhsypaw did not notice when Willowpaw meekly began to say, ‘Pardon’, and instead he kept on speaking. He kindly let her know that she had not in fact been walking weird, it their collision was only the fault of his own lack of awareness, but naturally, Willowpaw began to defend him, throw herself down again. Marshypaw stammered into silence for a moment, staring at the she-cat with wide, waiting eyes and listening carefully as she spoke. He hung onto every word, mostly just because it was amazing to finally understand what she was telling him without loosing himself in the chaos of her voice, but also because he was trying to make sense of their situation. She told him that she did not think that she was humble at all, referring to herself only as ‘weird a-and stuff’ with the characteristic stutter on the ‘and’, shuffling her paws. But she also thanked him, and that was where things got a bit more complicated. Marshypaw’s head shifted upright again. Well, that’s just fine. At least she expressed her gratitude instead of simply telling me I’m wrong. I suppose you can be both humble AND completely, utterly hopeless in yourself and your abilities. Maybe I’ll try and fix it? Oh, but goodness- I would need more time than just a singular interaction!? Oh boy. Willowpaw is… certainly a personality. So in a light voice, he casually told her, “You struggle with confidence, not talent, I’m assuming. But worry not, my good friend, because that’s certainly an easy fix.”
But when Willowpaw began to go on and on about how no, she was not nice, even going so far as to say that Dawnstar, the Queen of Violence herself, was nicer than her. Marshypaw raised his eyebrows, doubt clotting his gaze. Then for a moment, he stood silently, thinking. Well, now that’s just unrealistic… I’ll let her know. Purposely keeping his voice soft and leveled, he casually told her, “Mhm… say that again once you’ve shamelessness torn apart your enemies. Dawnstar does what she’s got to, just a bit… violently, I’ll say. Now, you? Willowpaw, you might not be blowing eith confidence, but I’m sure you’re nicer than that.” For the first time in forever, Marshypaw was not speaking as if he was some old man, some passive aggressive roast-god, or even the theater-boy he always seemed to be. By now, it was getting obvious that Willowpaw was not feeling her calmest at the moment, and talking with so much complexity would probably just make things worse for the both of them. So instead, Marshypaw tried to speak simply and clearly. But eventually, that was over because he got bored (naturally), and he went along to go offer to fetch the tortoiseshell apprentice a piece of prey. It just felt like a nice, Asian thing to do, but of course Willowpaw managed to turn the small act of kindness into en entire panic explosion. Marshypaw blinked and stared at his clanmate blankly, watching as the ShadowClan apprentice stared at him in shock with her maw wide open. Oh well. He tried. Awkwardly, he met her gaze, and waited for a verbal reaction to pop out form the nervous ShadowClan apprentice.
Eventually, it hit him like lightning. Marshypaw perked his ears and leaned towards his denmate a little bit so that he could catch on to the main point of what she was telling him, promising himself that he would at least try to translate whatever she was trying to tell him with the best of his abilities, and if he failed to understand, too bad, so sad. He would move on, and at least , Willowpaw would do the same. The she-cat started off by telling him that her name was Willowpaw, but he probably already knew that, and hastily, the young tom-cat nodded in response. Correct, his name was Marshypaw. Then she seemed to loose track of her words, talking strangely and briefly questioning her own speaking abilities… before moving right on to asking him how his day had been. Glad for some normal small talk, Marshypaw opened his mouth and prepare to respond, but the only sound that left his mouth was a little, unfinished, ‘Feh-” before Willowpaw took off again. He waited in patience, watching her with his friendliest smile, secretly dying inside of confusion. Willowpaw went back to the fact that oh, right, she was supposed to be introducing herself and telling him about her, but there was not much, making it weird. As little sense as some of this made, Marshypaw still tried his hardest to understand, ignoring the dying urge to passive aggressively tell her that she didn’t seem to know how to speak their language, so she should talk slower. But then the little bit of venting happened, and Marshypaw’s interests were snatched. When Willowpaw began to explain how it felt like walking, but sliding on ice, but also flying weightlessly, before asking herself what she was even talking about. Marshypaw proceeded to stare blankly. Well, it seemed not everybody was good with improvisation, but that was alright. They were both trying their best right now to understand Willowpaw, then, if it was true that she couldn’t even understand herself.
Then when she said that she might be imagining things, Marshypaw couldn’t help but mumble, “Huh? Imagining wha-” but she cut him off by casually throwing her own paw into her face. It was in that moment Marshypaw finally came to the realization that Willowpaw was… not in a position to be experimenting with her imagination herself, seeing as she was willing to literally whack herself in the face (painfully, at that) to test herself. The russet anc cream tabby raised a paw to try and prevent her from doing anything else that unnecessary, but she seemed finished. He sighed in semi-genuine relief, before allowing the usual dramatic mindset to flop back into his head. Well, she’s… fun…? In her own way…? I’ll make sure to let her know that the paw-slamming of the face isn’t the best way to know whether or not you’re dreaming… ah, chaos. I’ll have a loooong list of things to say by the end of this, won’t I? The anxious apprentice then introduced herself to him again, even including the fact that she was in ShadowClan as if he didn’t already know. Things got weird once she added that she thought for a moment that he was a ThunderClan cat. Marshypaw wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes, gazing at Willowpaw through thin slits. Oh, nasty. If anything, I’d be RiverClan or WindClan, goodness… certainly not ThunderClan, too much time spent of in the trees for a tom like me’s liking… yes, how about NOT. Then she thought he was RiverClan, then she decided that no, RiverClan was evil (this made Marshypaw feel a little bit victorious, because that thought of hers meant that she thought he wasn’t evil, technically. For now-), and she proved it by telling him that wait, no, he was good. Marshypaw blinked again, puzzled, and zoning out just slightly. She’d made an interesting protagonist in a story, wouldn’t she… be funny to tell a story about a nervous wreck to a bunch of kids, though… or maybe we… hey, what? He snapped out of it when Willowpaw called herself the atagonist. Well, that was quite an amusing mispronunciation, and Marshypaw truly had to fight to avoid laughing at least a little. Thanks to the friendly smile that was already on his face, this wasn’t too big of an issue when it came to coverage. She asked how it was said, so quietly, he corrected her, “Antagonist. Don’t worry, it’s hard to pronounce, tsk.” Yeah, Marshypaw completely lost her once she began to mention mayors, coral prisons, and fish- the majority of which was absolutely foreign to the young tom. But in the end, he caught onto the fact that she was claiming to be finished speaking, and giving him his turn. Wow. Who knew having conversations was some sort of game, let alone a complicated and awkward one. Once again, oh well. Moving on.
Marshypaw just wanted to create a pleasant environment, so he started off calmly and gently, sort of as if he was talking to a crying small child. “Hey, hey… it was a small bump, and nobody’s in any physical pain anymore, are we? You certainly did nothing wrong, and even if you had, I would have forgiven you by now, friend. I’m happy to know that you are not angry with me, though… I’ve met some… grumpy folk, that’s for sure, but I have to say, you are one of the more likable cats I’ve met so far, Willowpaw. In other words, I like you, let’s be friends, shall we? Now, how’s mouse sound, eh?” With a light laugh Marshypaw lowered his head to take a small, unusually polite bite from the meal sitting in between them. Then sitting with perfect posture again, he made sure to finish chewing before speaking again. As he did, he carefully nudged the mouse in Willowpaw’s direction encouragingly, even somewhat expectantly. “It’s nice to get to know somebody who deserves my kindness, anyway. It’s quite a shame how the worst of cats always view so highly of themselves… not fair, really. But I have an offer, you could call it. Well, for lack of a better term, call it a proposal, if you will. I’ve noticed that you seem to be a bit of the nervous sort… and I would hope that I’ve helped with some of the panic by this point, but if I have not, that it nobody’s fault but mine, so no worries there. As I was saying, if you ever begin to feel as if you are slipping on the ice again, if you would like, you can always come to get me. Goodness, Willowpaw, it could be the dark of night for all I care, I don’t sleep much anyway, ha- come and get me if you ever panic. I’m always here, always open.” Then with another friendly smile, Marshypaw gave the small meal another glance of hope and expectancy. Just a mouse… it is… but… if she eats, we’ll know she’s calming down a little. If she doesn’t eat, she’s still frightened of me. In other words, in the end, either I might have a chance at gaining her trust (if she eats), or I’m just hopeless. Man, who knew it would all come down to a partially bitten mouse.
- My characters’ opinions, thoughts, and behaviors are not necessarily a reflection of my own. I can assure you that we are certainly separate beings. -
Re: ShadowClan Clearing
Re: ShadowClan Clearing
