[Phoenix]

Sootpaw

- - -

With his mentor off on the special mission that had claimed six of his clan members, including his father, Sootpaw had little with which he could occupy his days until their return. In a way, apprenticehood so far was analogous to his life as a kit. Though his suffix had changed and he had a little more freedom, most of his time was spent in camp out of a sheer indifference to where he was all day long; his desire to explore the territory was minimal, and he saw no reason to move from the area in which he was already located if there was no reason to do so. It only meant that he would have to walk back later. Occasionally, the monotony of his days was broken by the order to go to the Sparkling Brook to retrieve fresh moss for the elders, which he did so with no complaints before returning to his silent post on the edge of camp.

Any other apprentice might have been raging at the unfairness of it all. A brand new apprentice, ready to learn how to fight and train to become a warrior, and his mentor was shipped off into the mountains on some quest seemingly on a whim of Lionstar’s. All in all, he was fairly unbothered by the idea. If his mentor would be gone for any amount of time, he had little doubt that he would be reassigned to a new cat, if only temporarily, for there would eventually be complaints about the lack of productivity and wasted time. While his father was one of the six cats on the patrol and probably would have enjoyed finding fault with their leader, the comments would more likely come from his mother; unbelievably naïve compared to the rest of her family, which included a daughter who was capable of crushing a mouse’s skull as a kit, a father who had taught her the ability, and a son who was wholly unbothered by it all, the she-cat was far more unbiased than the gray tom she called her mate. Grayowl might have complained if he thought Mockingpaw was receiving inadequate training, but in the case of his dear son, even Sootpaw could not be sure – or rather, he believed that no complaint would be issued.

So, with the comments about his inactivity at a minimum, the young tom found himself sitting outside the apprentice’s den at the end of the day, the long shadows falling on his gray body. As if he were carved from stone, he simply rested there like a sentinel, guarding the entrance to the den. Pale blue eyes, piercing where his mother’s were warm, watched the activity in camp as the day drew to a close. There were cats sharing tongues or splitting a piece of prey, which had remained surprisingly plentiful given the cooler weather they were beginning to experience. In an instant, life returned to the uncannily still body as the figure stood in a precise motion, cast one glance around camp, and ducked into the entrance of the den. He saw little reason to continue sitting out there, and was not completely surprised when he found the once-empty den occupied by someone other than himself.

- - -

[Deleted]

Streampaw

~*~

With not much on her mind, the small tabby found herself lying on the ground of the clearing, flicking around a mouse ever so slightly with an outstretched claw. With a large amount of cats out of the camp, or territory for that matter, she felt a slight bit vulnerable. But then again, she knew the camp was perfectly safe, otherwise the cats wouldn't have been sent off like they had. With only a few bites out of the still warm kill, she swayed her fluffed up tail over the ground underneath. Her usually smoothed out pelt was simply just not enough to bother with right now. Of course, it was mostly clean, and for a she cat, she did care about appearance, but the sand mounted tail, well that was too much to bother with. So she simply ignored it. 

Pale green eyes caught movement of a gray pelt as Sootpaw made his way back into the apprentice den. It wasn't like her to make conversation with any cats. But the fact that she was feeling anxious and a little bit out of her usual character, she could go for the company. With an arch of her back in stretch, she picked up the semi-eaten mouse and made her way to the apprentice den, ducking into the entrance smoothly. Sootpaw didn't seem to be doing much except simply relaxing or just hanging out. That was what most cats did nowadays. Streampaw's ears bent back slightly, her conscience eating at her slightly, but she pushed it away. With a flick of her tail, she padded up to the slightly larger tom, dropping the mouse and using a paw to push it toward him. "I er, figured you could use something to eat, in exchange for some company my way?" Her ears flicked back against her head nervously, then one rose up to listen, her head slightly cocked to the side. The gray she cat allowed her fluffy tail to wrap around her paws, abnormally long whiskers twitching slightly.

[Phoenix]

Sootpaw

- - -

Piercing eyes turned their neutral gaze upon the newcomer as she entered the den, the slight head turn of his head the only movement that passed over his otherwise still and eerily composed form. In the moment that passed, in which he noted her flattened ears dispassionately, the young tom identified the she-cat as Streampaw, an apprentice only a few moons older than himself. She was of no importance to him, having shown herself to be an average apprentice who had developed into all that he had come to expect from TreeClan cats. Excluding his father and sister, whom he perceived as aberrations – Mockingpaw more so in secret, for unlike himself, she made an effort to blend in with the rest – TreeClan cats seemed to have an affinity for the emotional and innately friendly, two qualities that he was incapable of understanding. Having harbored as much interest in interacting with his den mates as he had wandering through the forest during the day, Sootpaw remained silent, appearing to have dismissed the she-cat but for the empty, blue-eyed gaze that stayed locked on her gray fur as she moved around the den.

It unnerved some, he knew, the way he simply sat there, unnaturally still, particularly for a cat his age, and watched with his piercing blue eyes. His features held none of the warmth that other cats searched for in companions, yet they also lacked the distaste and disgust that warned others away; simply put, he was. A blank slate, perhaps, cleared of any and all of the emotion that drove every cat around him, his mind driven solely by logical thought and his judgment untouched by his heart.

Unlike most, who glanced the other way and attempted to ignore his steady gaze, the she-cat moved toward him, and he noted what appeared to be a half-eaten mouse hanging from her jaws. Indifferently, he watched her approach, considering the motivation for her apparent decision to include him in whatever activity she desired. Perhaps the piece of prey in her jaws was a bribe, for he could understand that thought process well, but as far as he could recall, that beyond his different behavior and the tom who had fathered him, there was nothing of particular note about him that the everyday TreeClan cat would know. In any event, a bribe would be far more effective if one brought a whole, fresh mouse rather than one with a few bites taken out of its side – if one believed that a mere mouse offered a respectable bribe, that is. Perhaps she had a desire to show him something, a particular skill, though he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it spawned; the apprentice’s den was hardly the place to show off abilities, and the only ones that would prove to be of eventual use to him were those that could only be displayed in the thickest part of the forest, where few dared to tread and the chances of running into a member of his clan were far slimmer than those of encountering Demon, the lynx that haunted these parts.

His gaze silently left her and flicked down to the mouse as she nudged it toward him with a light gray paw, the only acknowledgement the action received, for he made no motion to bring it closer to him. Her hesitant, obviously nervous words, answered his question as to her motivation, and he noted, idly, that this was closer to a bribe than it was a desire to show off to him. A bribe for companionship – but they did not phrase it that way: an offer of friendship, they called it. Caring little for his family, and caring far less for those outside of it, he did not need friends, nor did he fully believe that he had the capacity for friendship. Such bonds required emotions – fondness and friendliness, among others – and he was severely lacking on that front.

”That is unnecessary,” Sootpaw returned flatly, gaze shifting to rest on the rodent between them. ”I’ve already eaten. If it is companionship you seek, then by all means – enjoy.” He was there already; she was not alone, but rather in his company. Companionship did not require both parties to communicate, and he felt uncompelled to speak beyond what was necessary.

- - -

[Deleted]

Streampaw

~*~

She had known for a while now that Sootpaw was different than the other apprentices it was what made her slightly curious, yet slightly nervous about being in his presence. When she moved, she could always feel his gaze pressed against her pelt, watching her like a hawk watches prey. But it didn't seemed to bother her, no, not anymore. When he rejected the offering, she gave a nod of her head, picking it up in her jaws. So he doesn't share tongues or meals. She noted in her head, allowing her eyes to settle on the tom before she would trot back into the clearing and pass the mouse off to any cat who was still hungry. There was no point in wasting kill, especially when the cold weather was coming, they would all need their complete strength. When the mouse was passed on, she turned on her tail, padding back to the apprentice den with a smooth step. 

When she was back in the toms presence, this time she allowed her ears to stay perked, not as nervous as she had been before. He didn't seem like he was going to bite, so she could simply be here without worrying. Though, Streampaw knew better than to expect a conversation, she about a tail length or so away, as though to give him his space and not make him uncomfortable, she lowered herself to the ground. Her paws slid neatly underneath her, laying down somewhat comfortably on the solid ground. The apprentice kept her head raised though, watching the movements of what cats were left in the Clan, and occasionally glancing at the gray tom a few lengths away from her. 

It didn't exactly matter to her if they talked, it was comforting to her just to have another cat close to her at this point. She didn't care if he was different, it didn't bother her. Different wasn't really a bad thing, it just simply depended on the way the other cats looked at it. Eventually, the she cat became completely comfortable of the other cats gazes and non movement, and she allowed herself to relax completely. Her tail wold twitch every once in a while, but aside from that, she just accepted what she could get. 

[Phoenix]

Sootpaw & Wormpaw

- - -

As indifferent toward her desire to return the mouse as he was toward any other trivial matter, the son of Grayowl did not offer the she-cat any reaction when she appeared once more, devoid of the half-eaten rodent she had offered to him. Pale blue eyes flicked once in her direction, dismissively, before fixating themselves on the entrance to the den, watching the dwindling action of the camp beyond. He fully expected more apprentices to return with the setting sun, and while it made no difference to him whether the den had zero, one, or all of the apprentices, Streampaw would soon have the company he suspected that she desired.

It was this sight, of the two gray felines both staring toward the entrance, that Wormpaw met as he raised his head upon shuffling into the den, and it stopped him in his tracks for a moment as he visibly hesitated, as if unsure what to make of the two cats before him. Flicking an ear awkwardly, he offered each of them a small smile and a polite greeting, ”Hey Sootpaw, Streampaw.” Having noticed the blue-eyed tom’s apathy to everything, he was hardly surprised when he received nothing in response but the slightest flick of the eyes in his direction. Yellow-green eyes found the she-cat as he stepped farther into the den, making his way carefully over to his nest in the back as best he could without disturbing any of the other, empty nests. Because he knew perfectly well that he would not appreciate someone ruining his designated area, he did his best to leave the other apprentices’ nests alone as well.

”Long day?” Wormpaw asked of no one in particular, aiming to break the infectious silence that seemed to have settled thickly over the den. Tabby limbs folded beneath him as he settled down in his nest and made himself comfortable. In a somewhat protective fashion, his striped tail came to wrap around him.

A gray ear simply flicked in the older apprentice’s direction as the inquiry reached it, and piercing eyes rotated to find the speaker, having already identified him as Wormpaw by his tabby fur and unassuming body language. Lacking the strength in character that was required to survive the harsh realities of life to which he had begun being exposed, the striped apprentice fell into the category of cats who would not last very long on his own. Like the elders, Wormpaw survived only through the continued efforts of his clan members to feed and protect him, for the older tom always had something else on his mind. Sootpaw saw little worth in him, for the chance that he would develop into a cat strong enough to make the clan – sentimental creatures as they were – proud was slim. Long day? Perhaps.

- - -

[Deleted]

Streampaw

~*~

The she cats ears flicked awkwardly, not used to having such silence around her, but she didn't want to speak up and annoy the apprentice near her. She was almost thankful when Wormpaw made his way into the den and toward the back to his own nest. When he greeted her, Streampaw dipped her head, a small smile on her lips at the friendly greeting. It was nice to have some form of acceptance in the apprentice den. She didn't spend much time her, or bonding with the other cats her age. She preferred the older cats, the ones who told stories and made her fur tingle with excitement, The other apprentices were mainly just bundles of complaining, rough play, or..well, non social. But she was thankful for the slight conversation that Wormpaw had brought up and she turned herself in his direction, ears flicking in the direction of his voice.

She didn't leave her frame from beside Sootpaw, but she did turn her attention to the tabby tom at the back. "Kinda, more so quiet." She responded, her voice friendly and smooth, not nervous like it was when she had spoke to Sootpaw, but not loud and squeaky like either. Just a simple, casual response. Her tail folded back over her paws and green eyes studied the males fur, as she every once in a while glanced at the gray tom facing the entrance. He gave a comforted feeling, but not a conversational or friendly one. Just a simple feeling of being there. She knew it wouldn't be a good idea to go to the gray tom with problems, or the need to share tongues, or brush fur. He was there for a bit of company, but not what Streampaw wanted. 

But even with that, she didn't move her place. She stayed beside the male, her attention sparking back to the other tom, ears flicking in the silence that would sit around them until he spoke up, or if Sootpaw did. But that was asking a lot and was out of the question. The day he joined a conversation would probably be the day that mice fly. 

[Phoenix]

Sootpaw & Wormpaw

- - -

Wormpaw nodded in understanding, letting out a soft sound of agreement. In the wake of the excitement of having six of their number depart on Lionstar’s mission, average life seemed rather dull in comparison to the wild stories others seemed fond of inventing about their clan mates’ travels. He did not begrudge those who felt the desire to fill the hole the absence of those cats had left, because even a part of himself, he who had never really familiarized himself with any of the cats chosen – with the exception being Silverpaw, whom he knew simply because they shared a den – was aware of the gap those missing cats left in clan life. It was as if TreeClan as a whole had recoiled slightly to the sudden realization that a fair number of their warriors were now missing. Mentors, fathers, friends – those whom others took for granted were now gone, and some were dealing better than others.

Casting a critical eye toward Sootpaw, who leveled him with a steady gaze in return, Wormpaw wondered how the stormy-furred tom felt about the whole mess. Though he admittedly did not mind the absence of the former cat, Grayowl and Sixtoes, the gray apprentice’s father and mentor, respectively, had both been assigned to the patrol. Surely he was worried for his father’s well-being, at least, even if his time spent with his mentor had been cut rudely short by this sudden mission. Chances were that Sootpaw would never be as expressive as Nobleheart or Feathercloud, the two felines whom he had witnessed nearly fall to pieces with anxiety about Silverpaw, but he must have felt something for the two influential toms now missing from his life.

How wrong Wormpaw was.

Piercing blue eyes hid little from the world, seeming unreadable simply because there was so little to read by way of emotions. In the unlikely event that Grayowl perished on his journey, Sootpaw would feel only slightly more strongly about it than he had felt about the mouse whose skull his sister had shattered. His father’s survival abilities were facing the test, with the ultimate consequence for failure, and if his father was too weak to endure the harsh climate of the mountain slopes encircling the clans’ refuge, then it was simply natural selection stepping in to clear away the unworthy. But that idea was so foreign, so unlikely, that he had barely spared it a moment’s consideration before discarding it. Grayowl exuded competence; it was quite clear that if anyone survived the trip, it would be him. Sixtoes, he was sure, would be another devastating loss in the eyes of the clan, but there were always other warriors who could, logically, fill his place and teach Sootpaw the skills he needed to know to become successful. Even then, those teachings were likely to be rendered null by the secret lessons he and his sister, Mockingpaw, received from their father.

Slightly unperturbed by the usual lack of emotion in the other tom’s gaze, Wormpaw glanced away, yellow-green eyes finding Streampaw. An ear flicked and a small smile crossed his lips. ”Apart from quiet,” He began quietly, tail tip flicking by his side. ”How was your day? I hope it was well.”

- - -

[Deleted]

Streampaw

~*~

As she waited in the silence, the small apprentice caught the gazes between the two toms in the den. She didn't feel tension, but like a silent conversation was going on. Her paws tapped against the ground for a moment as she shuffled herself into a more comfortable position. Her tail curled up behind her, this time not touching her body, but simply relaxing against the apprentice dens ground. Streampaw found herself wondering what it was like to have a father. She had never known hers, he was said to have disappeared and became a loner, but of course, she never knew the meaning of that. She just knew the stories that her foster mother had passed along. When yellow-green eyes matched her pale green ones for a moment, the she cat found herself gazing quickly toward the ground, her insecurity picking up and her ears flattening against her head.

She wanted to hiss at the way she was being right now. Her mind was all out of sorts, driving her to a strange level of anxiety. Streampaw gave her head a strong shake, trying her best to shake out whatever was causing this, but to no avail. Though within a moment, she turned back to the tom meeting his gaze with friendly, unblinking eyes before skirting them over his pelt, then back. Her tail now wrapped around her body, claws kneading at the ground. After another moment of pause, she found herself thinking about Wormpaws question. She hadn't done much that day. All she did was lay out in the sun and bathe slightly, taking on the usual apprentice chores before she had come and offered Sootpaw to share tongues. But she decided to leave that out of her spoken words. 

"It went like a normal apprentice day." She meowed, offering a small purr of a laugh at how simple and pathetic it sounded. "Elders needed checking and moss needed changing along with collecting. Then I just kind of relaxed, ate, then came in here." She gave the male a warm smile, her tail giving a slight flick before laying still beside her. The purr rumbled in her throat for a few moments more before fading out and she fell back into a more comfortable silence. "How was yours?" The question was warm off her tongue and she gazed at the tom for a moment before casting a quick glance at Sootpaw, then relaxed a bit, one ear raising from her skull.

[Fawn]

ØNYXPAW

9 Moons || Apprentice || She-Cat || TreeClan ♦

Grayowl was gone. No, not permanently – which would likely be the only way she would ever truly relax – but gone for an indefinite length of time, and that was good enough for her to lift her spirits out of the cynical, hateful mud of fearful thoughts and the occasional influx of paranoia. Not even walking into the apprentices' den (which wouldn't yield very interesting results in terms of conversation or company) could spoil the shadowy she-cat's good mood. Having endured a light sprinkle of rain while out hunting today, Onyxpaw returned to her nest slightly damp but successful, brilliant golden eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dark inner sanctum of the apprentices' den, recognizing Wormpaw, Streampaw and Sootpaw by scent more than sight. As if with the mild fear that the son of her mentor would address her with some sort of obnoxiously cryptic speech or make note of her good mood in light of his father's absence, Onyxpaw's gaze settled upon Sootpaw first, feeling her heart-rate begin to settle when it became apparent he wasn't one for conversation. Thank StarClan it's him and not his sister. Lionstar – StarClan bless him, for he was the one who sent Grayowl away – wasn't the only cat who started at the sight of those supernatural gold eyes, that incendiary, soul-piercing stare of Mockingpaw's was enough to make her spine double in on itself without warning. Gaze eventually settling on Streampaw and Wormpaw, the shadow-marked feline approached her nest, speaking as she made a half-turn, attempting to find the most comfortable spot; ”Don't mind me, continue on with your conversations.” I feel almost as though I've walked into the last few moments' before a deputy's vigil. Three of the quietest cats in the Clan, all gathered around in one spot without the pleasant goading of a more socially adept apprentice – she didn't expect these conversations to last very long, whatever they were about. Sootpaw will keep to himself. Streampaw and Wormpaw are both similar, thoughtful kinds of cats, so they may keep up their discussion, but it won't be long before they start discussing the weather. Onyxpaw suppressed a chuckle, tucking her paws up under her body for warmth.

[Phoenix]

Sootpaw & Wormpaw

- - -

Wormpaw only had time to open his jaws to respond before they were joined by a fourth cat, and unable to deny the slight hope that it would be one less taciturn than the three of them, he interrupted himself and turned to watch as Onyxpaw entered the den. Even as she felt relief that it was Sootpaw and not his sister that occupied the den, a guilty sensation of a similar nature filtered through him. Though he felt bad for admitting so, he preferred Onyxpaw’s company to that of her brother, Crimsonpaw. Yellow-green eyes watched as she surveyed each of them, and he unconsciously tilted his head slightly to the side when the she-cat’s gaze rested on his fellow tom for an inordinate amount of time. Perhaps it was simply the ghost of Grayowl – Sootpaw was his son, after all – that caused this behavior; it was only natural for an apprentice to miss her mentor. Though he had no experience that allowed him to truly relate to the she-cat, Wormpaw offered a faint smile to follow his greeting – ”Hi Onyxpaw” – to the other apprentice, part of his mind already churning to find some way he could help her.

A moment passed as he watched her settle down, his pleasant gaze turning away even as a piercing blue one remained steadily trained on her. Though he had done little by way of reacting to the newcomer’s scrutiny, Sootpaw had not been oblivious to the look she had spared him upon entering the den. He had thought it only fair that he return the appraisal, and he had proceeded to do so with as few qualms about unnerving the other apprentice as he had had about unsettling any other cat in the clan. It made no difference that she was his father’s apprentice; in fact, it was that same knowledge that made her a source of slight curiosity more than one of disdain. Where Mockingpaw might have detested her for stealing Grayowl’s precious time and attention from their own training, Sootpaw predictably felt none of that rivalry toward Onyxpaw. Instead, part of him wondered if their father taught his apprentice the same subject matter he taught his two kits – his two tools – but so far he had seen little to suggest that it was so. And Onyxpaw did not have the air of one particularly disappointed in her mentor’s absence. Compared to the withdrawal symptoms his sister suffered from the lack of Grayowl in her life – he might have almost been amused, even though he was confident that her restlessness would lead to something slightly disastrous occurring – it seemed as though Onyxpaw was almost happy.

It was all speculation, of course, musings of a tom who felt so little emotion himself.

”My day was fine,” Wormpaw was saying, having finally responded to Spottedpaw in the silence that had fallen after Onyxpaw’s somewhat dismissive comment. ”I trained a little with Lionstar earlier, but he can never stick around for too long.” Not wanting that to sound more disappointed or otherwise negative than he had intended, which was not at all, he hastened to add, ”Understandable, though, because he is leader.” A striped shoulder lifted in a slight shrug, and he cast a glance toward Onyxpaw, faintly hoping that she would join the conversation as the strain of trying to lead one began growing. Always the listener and the watcher, Wormpaw had never perfected the art of holding an extended discussion, and most of the conversations he did take part in became stilted, awkward. Tail flicking by his side, he offered a faint smile, hoping it did not betray some of the discomfort he felt. ”Ahh, so the wea—“
A sharp tone cut across him almost instantly after he began, and yellow-green eyes turned to meet a cold blue. Despite their detached appearance and the coolly analytical expression on Sootpaw’s features, Wormpaw could easily imagine that the piercing gaze had a slightly withering quality to it. Before he could begin to truly try to read it, the gray tom turned away, his blank stare redirected to the apprentice who had just joined them.

”Your training has gone well, I presume,” Sootpaw spoke evenly, emotionlessly, though it seemed that he almost prompted Onyxpaw to elaborate. ”One could very easily find my father’s tutelage to be quite thought-provoking – fascinating, even.”

- - -