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July 22nd, 2024, 09:08 AM
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Join Date: Jan 2020
Gender: AFAB Female - she/her
Bump Policy: I'm not sure yet.
Posts: 4,540
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The Path to Warriorhood [P]
~ TWISTEDPAW OF WINDCLAN ~
AFAB | SHE/HER | APPRENTICE | 18 MOONS | NO PURRKS
Small, skinny, black she-cat with a light gray belly and tail-tip, a mangled tail, a crooked jaw, and one blind eye.
Twistedpaw blinked open her eyes. Pale dawn light filtered through the entrance of the apprentices' den, highlighting her round black paws and chasing away the cloud of sleep that hung over her. She still wasn't used to it being this bright, and not just because it was greenleaf. For so long, she'd placed her nest in the darkest corner of the den, wishing to hide herself from everyone lest they be disgusted by her disfigurements. But she'd realized that she couldn't keep hiding. She couldn't keep fearing her Clanmates. Some would judge her, yes. But most were kind. Most wanted her to feel loved and happy.
She couldn't keep hiding from reality, too. It was painful. It was scary. Cedarfrost had tortured her; Wolffang had died for her; Firestorm and Brightpaw had disappeared from her Clan. But Twistedpaw refused to let herself be swamped by fear and grief. She refused to let life's horrors define her. All my life, I've wanted to be a warrior. And that's exactly what I'm going to be. I need to be there for my Clan. I need to protect them, serve them, no matter what happens. Like Twilightstar, she would push through whatever blows she was dealt and live for her Clan - and for those whom she loved, as many still remained.
The young she-cat rose from her nest. Normally, she would've loved to remain curled up in the soft moss and woven grasses, clinging to the shreds of sleep that wreathed around her like mist. But not today. This morning, a fire burned in her stomach, lancing through her veins and powering her entire body. Twistedpaw shook away any clinging scraps of drowsiness or moss and glanced around the den. Her single working eye briefly lingered on the nest Brightpaw had occupied. A pang of grief struck her, but it didn't dowse the flame. Rather, it brightened it. I'll become a warrior for both of us, she silently vowed.
Twistedpaw then glanced over to where Vinepaw, her newfound friend, slept. His shaded black pelt was nearly invisible in the gloom. Her own black fur must have a similar effect. A lopsided smile tilted the corners of her crooked jaw. This was one cat who she was fighting to protect. Of course, she was to serve every cat in WindClan, but there were some who she held near and dear to her heart. Vinepaw had forged a genuine friendship and vowed to be there for her, something she had never expected. He'd even given her a nickname! No cat could ask for a better friend.
With that, she wove around the nests and the sleeping bodies toward the ever-persistent light. She'd gotten much better at balancing with her mangled tail. She hardly felt like she was going to tip or trip, and it filled her with a sense of pride and competence.
Stepping outside was like emerging into a whole new world. The sky was tinged in hues of gold and gray, bathing everything beneath it in a beautiful yellow light. Twistedpaw relished the slightly warmed air that was brought to her on a persistent breeze, ruffling her matted black pelt and blowing her whiskers back. She breathed in the fresh scents of grass, gorse, and maplewood. This was her home. It was hard to believe that there had been another, destroyed in a fire so long ago.
But life moves on. We don't forget, but it keeps going forward.
Feeling enlightened, Twistedpaw turned toward the warriors' den. She'd told Batglare that she wanted to battle train with him. He was a powerful fighter, after all, and she trusted him with anything - even her life. There was a reason she'd asked him to become her adopted father. And he'd accepted! The memory made her glow with joy. But she also wondered... should she train with someone else? She should get to know her other Clanmates better, as anxiety-inducing as it could be. Batglare would be proud of her for branching out.
I want my training to be done right, she thought, remembering her disastrous outing with Swiftfire. A shudder ran through her. But... I need to trust my Clanmates. And if it goes poorly? I can always ask Batglare later.
Who would want to be woken up at dawn, though? There weren't many cats who liked to be disturbed so early in the morning. Usually, Twistedpaw was a part of that crowd, but she was feeling extra motivated.
A flash of white in the corner of her working eye stilled her paws. Turning, the overaged apprentice noticed someone already in the clearing. Her tiny ear pricked. It was a unique-looking tom, mostly white with gray spots and unusual brown paws. Ravenhawk. She remembered him from that awful day when Wolffang had died. He had comforted her, though she remembered his foolish idea to have her say the dreadful story twice. Still, he was genuine and hard-working, and he seemed to like her.
Twistedpaw made her way over to him. Even though she was a small and light cat, she had to place her paws down a little harder to keep herself stabalized due to her tail, and in the silence, each little noise rang out like a yowl. Which was good in this case. She wanted Ravenhawk to know she was approaching. She shouldn't be nervous, but it was difficult to quell her instincts. Will he judge me because I'm so old? Will he think I'm incompetent because of my disabilities? Does he blame me for Wolffang's death? Do I look lazy because of my matted pelt?
Twistedpaw shook her head to clear it of these unwanted thoughts. Her crooked jaw swung and bumped against her narrow chest. It was natural to be nervous, but she refused to let her fear control her. I need to get to know my Clanmates better. Whatever they think of me - good or bad - that's not my fault unless I've truly done something bad. Existing is not bad.
She stopped about a tail-length from the warrior. She took a moment to shove her crooked jaw into a better position, briefly balancing delicately on three paws. Once she was ready, she addressed him. "Good morning, Ravenhawk," she meowed, dipping her head respectfully. Her voice, as usual, was distorted, but it always sounded better in greenleaf. "I... I noticed you were up early. I am, too. I've been meaning to do more battle training." Her determination shot through her in full force, and she drew herself up, holding her head high.
"My training was delayed, and even when I had it, it wasn't enough. I was useless when I was attacked by that RiverClan patrol. I couldn't do anything to help Wolffang against the coyote. Batglare is a wonderful mentor; it's not his fault at all. He's taught me a lot and helped me so much. I wouldn't be where I am without him. But I want - no, I need - more battle training. I barely know the basics. I know I won't be able to take down a full patrol of cats or a coyote all by myself, but I need to be stronger. I need to be ready to be a good, strong warrior for my Clan. Batglare meant to take me out, but he's been busy lately, and I wanted to get to know other cats in the Clan better. Would you be willing to train me?"
@SpiritedWarrior
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