I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Ginger on Sept 11, 2019 22:43:23 GMT -5
Frostjaw nightclan warrior 29 moons Cold blue eyes scanned the vicinity of the camp. Frostjaw had been sitting by the fresh-kill pile, his long tail wrapped around his massive paws as he kept a watch over the comings and goings of the camp.
His eyes next moved to the fresh-kill pile, more specifically the tattered bat that lay atop it. Someone had a messy kill. How disappointing. The bat was barely discernible, its wings clawed at, its eyes bloody, and its mouth open in a silent and permanent plea for help. That plea didn't seem to work out too well. Looking at the bat, Frostjaw couldn't help but remember the night he had taken Hollowkit, now Hollowpaw, out of the camp to see the territory.
Now, it was the real deal.
Getting up, Frostjaw walked towards the apprentice's den. He doubted that Hollowpaw would actually be asleep, unlike the average apprentice. Hollowpaw had shown Frostjaw his great potential and drive, and the large warrior was excited to use the gray apprentice's drive to turn his potential into something tangible.
He didn't even walk into the apprentice's den. The white-furred warrior simply stood outside of the den, his deep voice echoing into it. "It's time."
The two cats would patrol Nightclan, familiarizing Hollowpaw with the scents and sounds of friends and foes alike. While he was not supposed to go near Treeclan, Frostjaw still intended to take his apprentice close enough to that area of Nightclan's territory for Hollowpaw to begin to get a whiff of Treeclan's stench.
As Hollowpaw came out of the apprentice's den, Frostjaw slowly turned his head towards him. "Today is about more than territory. Today, you set the bar for what kind of warrior you want to be." Then, turning around, the large tom walked towards the exit of the camp.
As the two cats emerged from the exit, Frostjaw moved quickened his pace ever so slightly. While it was just a walk with a larger stride for the large tom, he knew that it would force Hollowpaw into an uncomfortable trot. He needed to get uncomfortable to be great.
"If a fun tour of Nightclan is what you want, then the rest of your training will be spent making you a mediocre warrior." Of course Hollowpaw didn't want that. But it was always important to keep that fear of being useless, of being nothing, alive and strong in the apprentices. It would separate them from the apprentices of the other, more weak-willed clans that refused to push their apprentices to their absolute limits.
"If learning and memorizing the scents of the world around us is what you want out of this session, then the rest of your training will be spent making you a great warrior."
As the two cats walked, the scents began to morph around them from the cozy scents of Nightclan's camp to the scents of the real world. The smell of prey, of fallen leaves, and a damp smell that promised rain.
only in darkness can you see the stars
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Post by Taxx on Sept 27, 2019 8:55:54 GMT -5
Hollowpaw lay in his new nest in the apprentices' den, chin resting on the edge and his gaze fixed on what little he could see of the entrance. Moonlight shone through the entrance tunnel, giving just enough light to let him pick out the cats with pale fur. He was restless and annoyed. He'd hoped Frostjaw would have taken him out on that first night after he'd been made an apprentice, but he hadn't. Watching Bramblepaw and Roachpaw trail after their mentors had pricked at him and he'd never been so tempted to try to sneak out- no matter how futile it was, or that he wasn't supposed to.
He'd been bored, left idle- he'd caught Crowflame's eye as she and Breezepaw had worked at cleaning out dens, but he'd turned away from helping. Sure, it was an apprentice's chore, but they were doing just fine without him, right? By dawn, he'd staked out this nest and claimed it, and the camp fell quiet as the warriors slept through the day as they were used to. And that night, he'd been disappointed once more.
If he'd had a voice he would have used it to the fullest, demanding answers. He was supposed to be training! He wasn't being any use to anyone, stuck here and watching every other apprentice go out. Even Breezepaw, that second night, had learned more than he had. His hopeful ventures to other warriors, silent queries about going with them since his own mentor seemed intent on... StarClan, he didn't even know what was going through Frostjaw's head. Why take him out as a kit, but keep him stuck in camp as an apprentice? He'd cleaned dens that night, but in a poor temper, indignation washing over him at the thought that he was falling behind. How was he meant to be great if his mentor was ignoring him? Maybe he'd been wrong about Frostjaw after all.
The tom's deep voice came from outside the apprentices' den; Hollowpaw stared at the white warrior's legs, battling the burning resentment of his mentor's treatment toward him. Still, there was nothing he could do but obey, sliding from the den as Frostjaw turned away and trailing after him as the two left the camp behind. The rush of excitement he'd thought he'd feel at getting out, though, didn't come; the new apprentice just followed, tail dragging as he flashed a hot glance at Frostjaw as the warrior spoke. I want to be great! he couldn't say aloud, frustration spilling over as he lashed out, slapping a paw against the ground and hissing, ears laid back as he glared. You're supposed to be helping me get there, not holding me back!
His throat felt constricted, welling with the fury at being denied the chance to learn, the anticipation that had been snatched away twice now, and further irritation at Frostjaw acting like everything was okay, like Hollowpaw hadn't been left, bored and lonely in the camp. I wish I'd been given Cobrastrike instead. Then I could be learning something, and stupid Roachpaw could be left with you!
I'm a soldier till its over I will never fall fearless hearts holding on through the night Hollowpaw NightClan
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I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Ginger on Sept 30, 2019 21:03:58 GMT -5
Frostjaw nightclan warrior 29 moons It was instantly apparent to the perceptive tom that his fiery apprentice was angry when he hissed at his mentor. No. Not angry. Something much worse.
"Impatient," he said cooly, his head snapping towards Hollowpaw, his intense blue eyes cold and hard as ice. "And yet what did you do with that impatience? You sat in your den, biding your time and waiting for someone else to tell you what to do." Frostjaw's pace slowed to a stop, and he turned to block the path of Hollowpaw.
"Not once did you spare a paw to help Breezepaw and Crowflame with chores. How can you expect to be great at fulfilling the duties of a warrior if you can't push yourself to do the basic duties of an apprentice?" The white warrior stepped closer and closer to Hollowpaw, until his massive face was only a whisker-length away from Hollowpaw's, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper. "There is more to being a warrior than fighting." Right after speaking, the large tom shoved Hollowpaw back with immense force before walking to the base of a tree. "There is more to being a warrior than killing." Frostjaw put his front paws on the trunk of the tree, unsheathing his claws and dragging them down, causing a large layer of bark to fall to the ground around him. He didn't flinch.
Frostjaw kept facing the tree, watching its naked trunk that he had just exposed with its claws. The tree had to lose its rough exterior to expose the hidden layer of sap and fresh bark that was actually of use to the forest around him. Blue eyes narrowed. StarClan was entrusting Frostaw to do the same for Hollowpaw. It was his divine duty to cause Hollowpaw's base and irresponsible layer to be removed so that he could grow into his full potential as a warrior that defended both Nightclan and Starclan.
"Being a warrior is protecting what is right. Being a warrior is remaining patient in times of stress. Being a warrior is being useful." Finally turning away from the tree to look at Hollowpaw, Frostjaw raised his eyes in a questioning manner. "Do you want to be useful?"
If Hollowpaw had no desire to help his clan, then he knew how to get back to camp. However, if he wanted to learn, there was no time for petty complaining. Frostjaw, without another word, began walking towards the border with Rainclan. Whether or not Hollowpaw followed was on the shoulders of the apprentice.
only in darkness can you see the stars
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Post by Taxx on Oct 12, 2019 10:22:27 GMT -5
Chest still heaving from his anger, Hollowpaw glared at Frostjaw, meeting the bigger tom's eyes without a blink as his mentor slowed and then turned back to him. His tail lashed, but already his anger was cooling, the outburst giving him the chance to wash it away. He scowled at the accusation, disputing it with a shake of his head. He had helped! Maybe not the first night, but it wasn't like he'd done nothing but sit and wait without doing anything. Fur ruffled, annoyance pricking at him, but as Frostjaw turned away again he sucked in a breath and then let it out in a loud huff.
More to being a warrior than fighting or killing. Quietly, Hollowpaw sat, green eyes fixed on his mentor as he continued, outlining what he thought it meant to be a warrior, to be useful and someone his Clan could rely on. Struggling to hide the last of his impatience, the choking desire to learn everything as fast as he could. It still rankled, the thought of falling behind, of watching Roachpaw and Bramblepaw charging onward with their mentors and learning things he hadn't yet, the thought of being forced to watch as they demonstrated skills withheld from him. Roachpaw would laugh in his face if he knew, and while Bramblepaw might not, he couldn't bear the thought of her trying to teach him things she knew and he didn't.
Of course he wanted to be useful. Up on his paws again, he followed Frostjaw. His steps were rigid, his whole being felt wound so tight... darting forward, he stepped up into a trot beside Frostjaw, hoping that he could drown his annoyance now that he was finally out of camp and on the move. He wasn't going to give up this opportunity, even if he wasn't pleased at the way his apprenticeship had started. Flashing a glance up at his mentor, Hollowpaw tipped his head in a question. Where are we going? I'm a soldier till its over I will never fall fearless hearts holding on through the night Hollowpaw NightClan
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I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Ginger on Nov 9, 2019 9:49:01 GMT -5
Frostjaw nightclan warrior 29 moons The sound of lighter footsteps catching up to him told the massive white tom that his apprentice had made the decision to put his anger away and work to be the warrior that StarClan wanted him to be. Frostjaw didn't smile, but he approved.
Feeling as if he were being watched, Frostjaw turned his head to make eye contact with the questioning eyes of Hollowpaw. Ah yes, the apprentice was probably curious as to where the two of them would be heading. Despite being mature for his age, Hollowpaw still had the freshly-minted-apprentice curiosity that made them seemingly excited for everything.
"Today we go to the Black Forest." He paused for a moment. The Black Forest was the site of a fire some time ago, and Frostjaw found it to be a very clarifying experience every time he went. The black trees, dead where they stood, were a constant reminder to him of some of the great dangers of this world: passion, obsession, attachment, etc.
"After that, we will conclude by seeing and memorizing the boundaries."
As they walked on, nearing the Black Forest, Frostjaw felt the scent of aged fire, of settled smoke, creep into his nose. It was a smell that was often blinding, masking other scents -- to an inexperienced warrior. "Let yourself smell the smoke, and know that in a real fire, it is even more intense. But do not let yourself only smell the smoke. Once you go beyond that veil, you will find that there is a plethora of scents around."
only in darkness can you see the stars
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Post by Taxx on Jan 13, 2020 13:49:36 GMT -5
The Black Woods! Hollowpaw had heard about the place from Thornscar: a fire had burned through the trees long ago, before NightClan had settled within this territory, and the power of the flames had forever scorched the bark. If the wind's right, he remembered her saying more than once, head lifting to scent the air, you can smell the lingering smoke even here, and no matter how many moons pass it will never fade. Hollowpaw recalled sticking his nose up and sucking in a breath, but he'd been unable to smell anything but the scent of cat, earth, and prey.
Part of him wondered if Thornscar had just been teasing him and his sisters, but now as he neared he could smell the acrid stench. Just like his mother had said. He gave Frostjaw a nod, keeping up with the bigger tom's longer stride with his own shorter, hurried one. His ears twitched toward his mentor as the older tom spoke again, and Hollowpaw frowned in concentration. Don't smell just the smoke, but what was beneath. Closing his eyes, Hollowpaw sucked in a breath- and promptly erupted in a sneezing fit, caught off guard by the overwhelming odor of smoke that flooded in. He almost managed to stop, but one last sneeze broke through and then he wiped at his muzzle with a paw.
Lesson learned. Hollowpaw took shallower breaths now, testing the air for any smells that might be overpowered by the smell of smoke; he left Frostjaw's side and tracked across the wood, making sure to stay in sight at all time but more focused on his task. His nose wanted to notice only the smoke, but he could pick up traces of other smells, brief snatches of odors of trees and grass and the stronger scents of herbs that grew in great swathes between the trunks. And then, so fleeting that he nearly missed it, the mouthwatering smell of prey.
Hollowpaw froze and backed up, nose almost to the ground and casting about to find it again; his jaws parted and he breathed in, lips curled back to taste, and he came to a halt at a small hole beside the thick root of a tree. Looking up, he turned to look at Frostjaw and then glanced down again, pointing his nose at the hole. I'm a soldier till its over I will never fall fearless hearts holding on through the night Hollowpaw NightClan
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I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Ginger on Feb 16, 2020 18:58:29 GMT -5
Frostjaw nightclan warrior 32 moons Frostjaw watched his apprentice move around the clearing. There was no need to tell him how to find those scents - it was something Hollowpaw would figure out on his own. And he clearly was.
While the young tom struggled at first with the scent, as any new apprentice would, he eventually began to follow other scents around. This was good. Not only was Hollowpaw simply smelling the scents around him, but he was following them, investigating them. His sense of curiosity would bide well for his future as a warrior of NightClan.
The large white warrior's icy eyes followed Hollowpaw's movements a little more intensely once the apprentice picked up a more interesting scent. Frostjaw opened his mouth to smell whatever it was that Hollowpaw had caught a whiff of. Under the layer of smoke, there was the scent of prey.
"Listen for it," he whispered to Hollowpaw as he silently stalked towards him. His ears angled forwards, listening for a sign of movement. And there it was: a soft scuttling coming from the hole in the root of the tree. A den. Frostjaw had seen these types of dens before. This creature was cornered.
Frostjaw was much too large to stick his paw into the hole and kill the creature corner inside, but Hollowpaw sure wasn't. "Stick your paw in with your claws out and suffocate it. Not a clean kill, but food nonetheless."
Plus, it would look good for the young tom to come back to camp with his own prey from his first time training.
only in darkness can you see the stars
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