Witches' Brew [Hunting Thread, Applepaw!] Mar 15, 2013 22:52:13 GMT -5
Post by Fawntastic on Mar 15, 2013 22:52:13 GMT -5
♠BLACKWOLF♠ of NightClan
I am the Sin Called Wrath.
"So you're Applepaw, huh? What's it been like training with snake-eyes over there?"
Jet black ears swiveled with minimal interest to the pair of voices just behind him, silent, wolf-like movements neither slowing nor faltering despite being the subject of their conversation. Blackwolf wasn't necessarily in a bad mood, but nor was he in an overwhelmingly good one either. The last few sunrises had left him a little... Not necessarily out of sorts, but more pensive than usual, more introspective, as if he had found a mark on a previously spotless surface, and couldn't, for the life of him, figure out how it had gotten there.
For the NightClan tom with a temper and a habit of never apologizing, his 'daring rescue' of Ghostlight had some kind of unforeseen long term effect on the otherwise normal creature. Confused over the fact that he didn't outright hate Ghostlight as much as she probably deserved, and even more flummoxing is the idea that he wasn't even that completely agitated with her. Probably because she's not right in front of me waving her tail and smirking like she's StarClan's gift to the forest. He noted with a mixture of bitterness and derision.
Blackwolf wasn't alone, clearly by the fluffy young tom who followed in his wake alongside a she-cat with a beautiful marbled coat, one of NightClan's newest warrior by the name of Frogsplash. Once upon a time, a young, awkward she-cat had been following after him claiming to want to learn how to catch an owl, but with the arrival of maturity was the departure of her childish crush on him - which was all for the better, as he had never viewed her as anything more than a kid-sister type of nuisance. She was utterly over him now, judging by the characteristic gleam of devilry and the confidence of her stride, having fully bounced back from the death of her uncle-slash-mentor.~*~
While Blackwolf took the hunting patrol closer towards the muddy pools, Frogsplash kept up her amicable conversation with the somewhat unusual, fluffy tom-kit that had the misfortune of being assigned to Blackwolf of all cats. Steps easy going though the casual left-to-right sway of a honey-based, black-ringed tail conveyed the underlying energy and vigor of the NightClan youth. Thoughts drifting back to her best friends, Grimjaw and Darkice, now, it felt like it had literally been yesterday that they had all slept next to one another, dreaming of the days when their life as apprentices would soon be over.
Glancing over to Applepaw, Frogsplash was able to note with a mixture of pride and satisfaction that even as three new warriors had joined their comrades in the warriors' den, the nursery had produced another batch of would-be future NightClan warriors, and just as Boneshadow had helped shape her into the warrioress she was today, Frogsplash had agreed to aid Blackwolf and Applepaw in their training in any way that she could.
Even if it meant just a little friendly conversation and competition with the two toms who were so vastly different from one another.