[Phoenix]

I'LL BE KING UNDISPUTED, RESPECTED, SALUTED

Ratfur was not happy, and if he'd had his way, the irritating ball of fur crouching next to him would have mysteriously vanished a long time ago. "Oh I don't know what happened to your son, Blackwolf," he'd have said, faking ignorance with just the right amount of concern. "The last time I saw him, he was hiding away in his den pretending to be a rock." But then, of course, reality would return, and some imbecile like Oakblaze would know exactly what had happened to Bonepaw and exactly where to find him, and he'd just so helpfully volunteer the information to the worried father. He didn't think he'd make it out alive if he had to apologize to the large black tom for "accidentally" talking his son into exploring the lynx's den. Oops. So sad.

There was a storm coming - finally, something to break the heat wave that had settled over the valley - and Ratfur wanted to do nothing but his best imitation of a rock within the safety of the warrior's den. Storms brought rain and wind, and he had no desire to be drenched by sheets of rain or tossed around like a leaf by the large gusts. A nice nap in his warm, dry nest would have been the perfect way to end an altogether not-so-bad day. But nooo. Someone had to feel the need to, for some strange reason, start being proactive the very day bad weather lurked on the horizon. He had been standing nearby minding his own business when Bonepaw had made the suggestion, so he had been roped in as well. And now he was stuck here, hiding in the wet undergrowth of the marsh, staring at an empty border with one of his least favorite cats by his side. Ratfur cast a sideways look at his companion. “This is all your fault.”

Bonepaw was just as irritating as his father.

If he hadn't known Blackwolf all his life, he wouldn't have thought it was possible for one ball of fur to be so aggravating - and just by existing, too. It was a talent, he decided. Blackwolf had it too, as did his mate, which meant that their unfortunate children had picked up twice the load, and now that the kits could walk and insult others (dad must be so proud), Ratfur found himself having to deal with mini-Blackwolfs as well as their father. What he had done to deserve this particular torture, he did not know.

Ratfur | NightClan | Warrior | Be Prepared - Lion King

MY TEETH AND AMBITIONS ARE BARED

Fawn

[Fawn]

B O N E P A W
15 Moons. Tom. NightClan.

_{⇒I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way⇐}

---

"You don't ever use your brain, do you Ratfur?" drawled Bonepaw as he crouched beside Ratfur, the RainClan border in full view from their secluded position in the marsh. His father's lackey was a lackey for obvious reasons; he didn't think. There was a saying he'd heard once—work smarter, not harder. Bonepaw sneered. "You should be thanking me. If we patrol now, then we won't have to for a whole day after."

If they did this stupid little patrol now, then Dimstar wasn't going to ask them to patrol later. Bonepaw would rather cut off the tip of his tail than stand guard, hunt or patrol in a rainstorm. The rain wouldn't hurt him, it wasn't as though he'd melt or get blown away by the wind like Ratfur might—but Bonepaw hated having wet fur. Hated how long it took to groom afterwards, and he was much too old to have Ghostlight help him. Hollypa—ugh, Hollystorm—would mock him, at any rate. Call him Bonekit again or some other kind of toad-dung.

Bonepaw was, if nothing else, incredibly lazy. Slothfulness was second nature to him, and being able to be both lazy and productive enough that he could keep being lazy was an art-form in and of itself. An artform Bonepaw was going to perfect.

He had suggested to Sleekshade that he and Ratfur go on this patrol together because he know the twiggy brown warrior would be about as enthusiastic about his 'warrior duties' as a mushroom.

And that's exactly what he wanted.

Any other warrior would've made him actually get out and patrol the area, but not Ratfur.

Because Bonepaw would sing like a canary to Blackwolf, tell him all about how Ratfur was mean and wouldn't help him patrol and maybe throw in a few nasty insults Ratfur had 'called him' while they were patrolling. Then Blackwolf would straighten him out.

Bonepaw's bicolored eyes narrowed, his sights set on the mottled sky above. The crowds looked bruised, sides swollen with the oncoming rain.

This way, all they had to do was endure a little bit of humidity, a lot of monotony, and then they could go back to their nice warm dens without anycat being able to say they hadn't pulled their weight around the Clan.

Bonepaw wouldn't tell Blackwolf that Ratfur had done the bare minimum.

Ratfur wouldn't tell Dimstar that Bonepaw had done the bare minimum.

This was doing things the smarter way.

---

⇒I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams⇐

Word Count: 425 Words
Tags: Phoenix , Insidious

[Phoenix]

my shadow's the only one that walks beside me

A feeling of superiority flickered through him at Bonepaw’s words, despite the intended insult they were undoubtedly supposed to deliver. As a matter of fact, he did use his brain, and he was confident that he used it far more regularly than the apprentice beside him. And because he had experience in the apparently not-so-universal art of thinking, he knew that being assigned to a patrol now did not grant them immunity from being sent out later. He considered pointing out the flaw in the apprentice’s logic, but coasting on his sudden haughtiness, he did not deign to respond beyond a sarcastic, ”If you say so, Bonepaw.” Instead, he decided, Bonepaw could find out for himself when he was sent on another patrol that afternoon; Ratfur could suggest to Sleekshade that the apprentice would appreciate the extra work because he wanted to prove that he was ready to become a warrior.

It was unfair of him to pick on that particular wound, he figured, especially as the skinny warrior knew exactly how it felt to be left behind in the apprentice’s den. Remembrance of those times put a nasty feeling in his mouth, and much to his irritation that wonderful smugness faded away, leaving him wet and empty. The silence stretched on between them. He wanted to fill the void with some snarky remark or another, but the unspoken threat of Blackwolf lingered over him. Ratfur was loathe to say that he feared the other tom, but he was very keenly aware of how much harder his life could get if he truly found himself on the wrong side of the larger warrior’s ire. He knew he danced along that line enough on his own, and a survivor above all else, he was not about to intentionally step across it to the point of no return. Bullying Bonepaw, no matter how satisfying in the short term it might be, was exactly that.

And Ratfur hated it.

Suddenly, sick with disgust at the just how thoroughly his best weapon had been taken away from him, he did not want to be around that little beast anymore. ”Go see if it’s been this quiet all the way down the border,” He spoke suddenly, green eyes leaving the empty marsh before them to pin the apprentice with a stare. The look on a more intimidating cat might have sent a not-so-lazy apprentice scurrying away in an instant, but Ratfur hardly expected the other tom to leave without complaint. It would almost be more work than it was worth to get him to move his disrespectful body more than two paw steps away, but Ratfur had patience – and thanks to said apprentice, he also had time. ”The exercise will be good for you.” Had his companion been anyone else, he might not have been so petty as to refuse to move, but this was Bonepaw. He was not about to give up his hiding place to Bonepaw of all cats.

my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

ratfur | nightclan | warrior | Fawn

boulevard of broken dreams | background image

[Fawn]

15 Moons. Tom. NightClan.

⇒I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way⇐

---

”The exercise will be good for you.”

Bonepaw sneered, debating whether to actually rise and do as the warrior suggested (what could Ratfur actually do to him anyway? Stare him to death?). After deciding that it was more work to be stubborn and invoke an argument then it was to actually walk and check the border, he rose slowly, stretched a great deal, and sauntered off as if it was his idea in the first place. You know what would be great exercise for you Ratfur? Getting chased by a fox. Oh, if only they were so lucky.

Bonepaw was sure he could climb a tree faster than Ratfur.

Following the scent markers that had been renewed that morning, the familiar scent of Blackwolf, Hollowcry and Sleekshade invaded his nose, with nothing out of the ordinary crossing paths. He could smell the dampness, smell the storm coming, and it made his paws prickle as though full of electricity. Above him, the winds stirred the trees, blowing the pine boughs against one another, the needles rustling into an almost ominous, woodsy chorus.

Ratfur's just a coward, he decided, enjoying himself by talking down the other tom. He's found his hiding place and wouldn't move unless someone set his tail on fire. Bonepaw's own tail swayed, flicking irritably as he stepped over what looked like droppings. Disgusting. What kind of a Clan cat made a mess out here? There were places for that!

Casting a scornful glance back the way he had walked, Bonepaw's thoughts churned like water. Maybe he could make Ratfur get up? Bonepaw didn't bother calling for help, he knew the older tom wouldn't dare risk his skinny brown neck for anyone but himself (unless fear of his father's wrath for letting his son die was a powerful motivator). Bonepaw was halfway through deliberating over what was the best way to make his Clanmate get his daily dose of exercise also, when he turned face to face with the ugliest creature Bonepaw had ever seen.

"YEARGH!"

Two beady black eyes stared back at him from the other end of a long, pale face. It had small ears that looked like shredded pieces of dead leaves, and its dark grayish-black coat looked as if not even three moons of grooming could ever make it look less unsanitary. What in StarClan is THAT? Bonepaw's fur stood on end, as the ugly beast screeched and then fell over as if struck by an invisible foe. It's mouth was open, the animal now still as a corpse, its ratty flesh-colored tail limp against the grass.

Bonepaw gaped at it. What a stupid thing.

---

⇒I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams⇐

Word Count: 450 Words
Tags: Phoenix
Notes: xDDDD Bonepaw gets to experience his first possum.

[Phoenix]

my shadow's the only one that walks beside me

That was… surprisingly easy. Green eyes narrowed suspiciously at the apprentice’s retreating back, and a small frown pulled the corners of his lips down despite his victory. Bonepaw had left with no complaints or insults – or almost definitely more accurately, he kept them to himself. Never had he known the other tom to pass up the chance to express his displeasure at doing anything, even if it was only getting in the last word as he stomped off to do exactly what he was complaining about. Ratfur trusted this new silence about as much as he would trust a snake not to bite him.

But the solitude was wonderful, and the relief of being finally alone washed away the lingering suspicion. At times he found himself seeking the company of friends, even if said company often came with a liberal spattering of insults cast in his direction, but it only took a few moments in the presence of Bonepaw for him to yearn for seclusion once again. Naturally, Blackwolf’s spawn would have inherited this particular talent. Without his delightful companion crouching next to him creating metaphorical storm clouds that rained on both their heads, the warrior was free to make the best of an unwanted patrol. RainClan had been oddly silent for a long time, and he did not expect that to change any time soon, especially on a day when the weather seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. Here, at least, he was relatively sheltered by the undergrowth and tree branches; if it had to start raining, perhaps it could happen now, while Bonepaw was out in the open and would get soaked. That would make this entire waste of time worth it.

A cry went up from a further down the border, and the warrior looked toward the direction it had come from. An ear flicked. That had been Bonepaw. He deliberated. A better, more dutiful warrior than he might have instantly risen to his paws to make sure the apprentice was still in one piece, but Ratfur found that he couldn’t really bring himself to care about the other tom’s well-being. Unfortunately, he reminded himself a moment later, Blackwolf did not share a similar mindset. That was the thought that had him rising to his paws and slinking along the border. Barely noticeable over the stench of RainClan and Bonepaw, a particular smell caught his attention and tickled his memory. Pausing, he scented the air again, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember what it was that had such a peculiar odor – he felt like he had only encountered it once or twice before.

It grew as he followed Bonepaw’s trail, and he simply stopped for a moment, taking in the scene in front of him. Before the absolutely astounded apprentice lay a creature the likes of which he had only seen a few times previously. Since the marsupials were animals of the night rather than the day, it was rare to cross paths with one while the sun still illuminated the world, and not particularly fond of the strange being, Ratfur was perfectly fine with that. However, in this particular circumstance, he was willing to make an exception. Bonepaw’s expression was absolutely priceless, and the warrior didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips as he approached the confused apprentice and his poor companion. If he hadn’t known the opossum’s odd inclination to fall over and play dead at the most inopportune times, he might have accused the apprentice of killing it simply by existing; honestly, he was surprised that didn’t happen more often, and he could relate to the particular willingness to die after spending any period of time in Bonepaw’s presence.

”How does it feel to know that an opossum finds you so horrifying that it falls over ‘dead’ within seconds of seeing you?” He asked drily, stepping forward. ”I find that I can’t particularly blame it for this particular inclination.”

my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

ratfur | nightclan | warrior | Fawn

boulevard of broken dreams | background image

[Fawn]

15 Moons. Tom. NightClan.

⇒I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way⇐

---

Seeing a smirk on Ratfur's face was at the top of Bonepaw's most irritating things; how dare he smirk at me, as if he's so much better than me. Throwing another mutinous look at the skinny brown warrior, Bonepaw forced his fur to lie flat, reaching out with a dirtied paw to prod the ... opossum none-too-gently. Bonepaw snorted. "No, I told him you were coming. Stupid thing just keeled over at the thought of meeting you."

As much as he'd love to trade insults all day with his frienemy, Bonepaw's bicolored eyes were fixed upon the opossum, the thoughts of his mind churning together like storm clouds. It would be stupid to just waste an opportunity like this. Here was prey just offering itself to them. But killing something while it was... pretending to be dead was...

Ratfur could do it.

"Today's your lucky day, Ratfur." Bonepaw sneered. "Finally you can bring home something that isn't a frog." The opossum had more meat on its bones than any frog, no cat could argue that. Bonepaw had half a mind to just carry the stupid thing back to camp and chuck it on the fresh kill pile. Maybe some unsuspecting warrior could try to take a bite and get a face full of claws and teeth? Unless this thing is too stupid to fight back.

Bonepaw prodded it again. The creature continued its 'play dead' routine. That decided it. With a short sound in the back of his throat between a cough and a laugh, Bonepaw stepped back. "Go on, Ratfur. You're the warrior." You kill it. That's what NightClan warriors do, right? They don't let opportunities just get away...

What little of Bonepaw's moral compass he had yet to snuff out because it was too much work, was starting to twitch. Starting to prod him the same way he'd prodded the dumb opossum. Was this wrong? Does it matter? Why would StarClan care if they gave their prey a fighting chance or not? Bonepaw had never witnessed cruelty first hand, otherwise he would not be so willing now to 'take this opportunity'. And even then, he was reluctant to get his paws dirty.

Reluctant to get his conscience dirty. An irritable expression crossed the white tom's face. What would Dimstar do? Bonepaw didn't know the answer to that; but more importantly, why did his mentor's cold nagging have to carry over into his conscience? He mentally hissed at this. Sometimes he really really did not like the Clan leader.

Life would be so much easier if he just didn't care.

---

⇒I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams⇐

Word Count: 430 Words
Tags: Phoenix , Insidious (Dimstar mention!)
Notes: