Post by Abyss on May 21, 2021 15:42:44 GMT -5
Brindlemask
Blank amber-brown eyes stared ahead through the marsh before them, only the sound of distant croaking echoing through the trees. A fluffy striped tail flicked once behind the slender she-cat's body, motioning for her company to follow.
Wolfpaw had been given to her as an Apprentice not too long ago, something the torbie hadn't quite expected. Only from the brief interactions the quiet molly had taken part in with this tom and his siblings, there was this feeling in the back of her mind that many expectations had been placed on her shoulders the day her name was called. As the children of Darkstar and Frostjaw, it was likely the whole clan saw highly of these kits. The Leader of Nightclan, a powerhouse of her own devices, reproducing with one of the clan’s most renowned Warriors. It was a tad bit surprising to think that Darkstar, of all cats, had children. Though, her sister Cobrastrike had also reproduced, which was almost more of a shock.
These things aside, it was only to her clanmates that these kits held such importance. It did not matter who Wolfpaw’s parents were, or what lineage he descended from, or what anyone else thought and expected from him. To Brindlemask, he was just another Apprentice. A rather unfortunate one to be truthful, for there was one part of Wolfpaw that she did not look forward too right off the bat: that fur.
A super poofy pelt, mostly silver and white in color, and a showful mane around his neck. This was one unfortunate similarity he shared with his father. And if he was anything like Frostjaw, their training sessions together for the next moons would be quite irritating.
She expressionless she-cat glanced back at the large tom briefly, making sure he was still following. At this confirmation, she turned and walked forward, descending slowly from solid ground, to mud, to water. The murky liquid met her chest and mid-shoulder by the time she was walking forward on an invisible flat surface beneath her. Had it not been for him being so close, Brindle likely would have been lost within the water, her dark pelt blending in with the mud quite well. It was only when she was about a fox-length into the water that she stopped, side-eyeing her Apprentice with a singular narrowed eye.
Although they lived within the muddy marshes of their territory, the torbie had established many times that there were still cats within the clan who could not stand the waters. Whether this was because they didn’t like to swim, didn’t like getting wet, or, in some cases, just didn’t like getting their precious pelt dirty. Stars forbid a cat having to clean themselves when they could just stay so pristine and shiny without doing any work. Pathetic. She often wondered if there were similar stuck-up felines within the other clans who would much rather avoid doing their duties just because of their own territory.
This little trait was something that Brindlemask did not allow to sit without some consequence. She had informed Wolfpaw that they would be going out to practice hunting, though did not state where exactly they would be going. It was a test, of sorts. If this large tom thought so highly of himself and didn’t desire to disappoint, he would have no problem walking through some mud. And if he refused, or complained as his kin had done, the silent femme would merely leave him behind to his devices. She had better things to do than babysit.
“We must come this way to reach our hunting ground for today.” Her words were said with no tone or undertone, and only loud enough for the silver tabby to hear. She did not wait for a response, or a protest in her own head, before she turned and continued on, mud sliding and squishing through her paws and water making her pelt heavier.
Words: 654 ----- Tags: ♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟
