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Post by Fawn on Feb 9, 2019 16:33:49 GMT -5
Leaf-fall #5 What doesn't kill me had better start running. This stupid place was so crowded. It wasn't like being in the nursery with Applewhisker. Despite her and Snake's caretaker being a tom who insisted on being a she-cat, Scrap-paw found herself missing Applewhisker's quiet companionship and soft fur. The sorta-queen hadn't minded that they weren't typical NightClan stock (for fox's sake, these Clan cats cared way too much about blood purity), and was especially warm to Snake, which had done a lot in sanding down the rough edges of Scrap-paw's reactions to them.
Instead of curling up with her tail tucked over her nose beside her brother and caretaker, Scrap-paw was trying to get used to this new den, this new nest, surrounded by new faces she was already sure she didn't like. A voice called for Snakepaw near the entrance - his new mentor, probably - and Scrap-paw's pelt bristled with unsaid words. Don't leave me in here with these mousebrains. But Snakepaw looked so excited, so open to learning Clan ways that she couldn't bring herself to rain on his good mood.
Suppressing a growl, Scrap-paw curled up tighter, trying to hold on to some of Snake's warmth lingering in the nest beside hers.
But she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to just lie here and wait for something to happen. Rising irritably and with a switching tail, Scrap-paw cautiously stepped around the sleeping bodies, but couldn't find it in her heart to care if she actually woke anyone up by mistake.
"Hey watch it, Scrap!" A gray-furred tom bared his teeth at her, tail held aloft as though he'd just yanked it out from under her paws. "Stupid kit."
Scrap-paw bristled. "Watch yourself, maggotbreath."
Needlepaw growled, twisting to get purchase on his nest. He sat up, eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?"
"Wow, you're stupid and deaf." The calico's heart pulsed, and she stalked towards him, not about to let this lanky wannabe-warrior try to intimidate her. "I said, watch yourself Maggotbreath."
Needlepaw's teeth showed when his lips curled back in a hiss. "I don't have to sit here and be insulted by a worthless outsider like you. Why did you even come to this Clan, anyway? What's the matter, Mommy didn't want you anymore?" Needlepaw purred, eyes glinting as he leered. "Can't say I blame her. Who'd want to share a den with someone like you?"
Scrap-paw gasped, the air squeezing out of her in a volatile hiss that promised - like the rush of steam before a geyser burst - an eruption the likes of which Needlepaw hadn't anticipated. Scrap-paw was on him like a flea on an elder's hide; scratching, biting and ripping into whatever part of the gangly apprentice she could find.
Nobody called her worthless. Nobody. 6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw @zen (Snakepaw mention!) @poptart (Applewhisker mention!)
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 13, 2019 22:40:04 GMT -5
Briarthroat swallowed around the lump in his throat as his friend, Honeywhisker, took her apprentice out of camp for one of their nightly lessons. He knew she was succeeding at connecting with her apprentice, nudging till the quiet tom smiled and finding cracks to peer through with gentle and accepting curiosity that made him appreciate her company and their conversations. He knew the pair of them had been chosen to train Nightclan's newest adopted for this softness, their patience with the unknown. Right now, he didn't feel like he was succeeding, hearing a becoming-familiar voice rise in the apprentice's den. Internally he sighed, ignoring the curious glances he received from some of the other warriors in his corner of camp. They too recognized the voice, unfortunately. Instead of giving them more ammo by reacting to their expressions, the tom got to his paws and trotted over, leaning into the apprentice's den to find out just what his apprentice had gotten into. At what he saw, Briarthroat couldn't help but sigh aloud. "Cut it out, you two!" Raising his voice to be heard over the shrieks, he piled his much-too-large frame into the space. Inside, the tom got his paws between the pair, knowing there'd be collateral on the limbs but accepting it anyways. When they were mostly parted, he glared at both to get them to sit still. It was a harmless expression for those who knew him--Briar was a soft tom, prone to words rather than claws-- and he hoped their naivety of him would make the expression work anyways. " Mind telling me what happened?"-- Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Feb 17, 2019 9:00:56 GMT -5
What doesn't kill me had better start running. A foreign paw interrupted Scrap-paw from lunging at the skinny tom again; she knocked her nose against Briarthroat's forearm hard enough to smart. With a frustrated hiss, blood still burning, Scrap-paw scrambled back, claws scratching against the bare spots of the apprentices' den not covered by moss and leaves.
"She stepped on my tail, and then attacked me." Needlepaw retorted, making a show of licking down the tufts of his short dark coat where Scrap-paw had lashed out at him; one of his whiskers was bent from the scuffle, and there was a nasty scratch on his shoulder that made him even more sympathetic.
"Of course I attacked him!" Scrap-paw snapped. "He called me worthless!" Outsider hadn't stung at all. Yeah she'd been born outside of the Clan, what of it? She wasn't even sure she still wanted to be a part of this stupid Clan. They were full of themselves and aggressive, even with each other. Despite all of Briarthroat's talks about how a Clan was like a 'family', they were a lot more like organized rogues. But they weren't going to bully her into giving in. If she left, if she turned her back on these Clan cats, it would be her choice.
But saying her mother hadn't wanted her... That she'd been abandoned so easily, just like Scratch had abandoned Snake...
"Did not," said Needlepaw, looking offended though his eyes twinkled haughtily. "You must have misheard me."
Did not! What a weaseling, conniving little--
The calico kitten snarled, taking another threatening step towards him. "Don't talk to me anymore, dungbreath, or I'll claw your stupid face off!" It wasn't the best thing to say in front of NightClan's deputy, and the stern look he'd given them (though nothing rivaled the hateful stare Pinestar had given her) could have been interpreted as a warning, but the she-cat's temper was not so easily cooled.
"Can I go see Smokefur?" asked Needlepaw, all politesse and tail-kissing. "I don't want my scratches to get infected."
6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 24, 2019 1:28:26 GMT -5
Briarthroat listened patiently to the two cats defend their decisions, trouble brewing in his chest. Despite Scrap-paw only being in the clan for a limited amount of time, he knew that if someone said something mean, she'd lash out. He was starting to realize the steps of escalation didn't start at wanting a brawl. It was her nature to defend herself and her brother; admirable but unhelpful in situations such as this. Shifting so Briarthroat wasn't entirely blocking the entrance, he gave Needlepaw his answer. “It is not appropriate to call your clanmate names, Needlepaw. You may see Shadowchaser, then get some mouse bile and tend to the elders. Ask them for stories of great Nightclan cats, I think you will be surprised to find out all our clan’s heritage.” He gave the young tom a smile, showing his bark and bite were soft but that he expected the order to be followed. When the apprentice had left, the deputy shuffled back, gesturing for Scrap-paw to follow. “Let's walk okay? I want to hear everything from your perspective.”
--- Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Feb 24, 2019 12:03:27 GMT -5
What doesn't kill me had better start running. Scrap-paw's ears were flattened, and the urge to lash out and claw this mangepelt's stupid fur off bubbled up like molten lava. Wait, huh? Needlepaw was getting punished and she wasn't? Even though she'd tried to rearrange Needlepaw's stupid face? Conflicting emotions waged war on the young calico's face; surprise, suspicion, remnants of anger, and curiosity.
'A walk.' He wanted to go for a walk to hear from her perspective? Scrap-paw's posture suggested the wary hesitance of a loner invited to dine with Clan cats, but slowly she put one paw in front of the other and made to follow Briarthroat out of camp. At least Needlepaw was gonna be spreading mousebile on a bunch of cranky elders all evening.
That was worth a smug glance at the medicine cat's den. I hope your scratches sting for days, maggot-food.
When it was just Scrap-paw and Briarthroat, however, her thoughts shifted back to apprehensive. The stiffness in her step suggested as much, as if she were bracing herself for the inevitable punishment. "Where are we going?" She didn't care, really. It was just something to say so she wouldn't have to have this conversation. What did he want her to say? That she was wrong? Or worse, that she should apologize?
No way.
6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 24, 2019 13:52:29 GMT -5
He watched the emotions rage, unable to identify each one but recognizing the plethora that appeared. Whatever Scrap-paw had expected, this wasn't it. Was she expecting to be punished severely? Briarthroat pondered, letting their paws take them out of earshot of camp. “Hm, let's test your knowledge of the territory.” He said. “Let's go to the ambush pools.” With that, the deputy let his apprentice lead their steps, taking every wrong turn in stride and soft amusement in his eyes. She was eager, as long as he didn't push that feeling too much. As they walked, Briarthroat asked, “What caused you to attack Needlepaw? It's not acceptable to attack one's clanmates but if he called you inappropriate names, I understand why you would do so. You are not entirely off the hook here,” he warned but even so, “but I want you to be respected here and talking about it will help us find solutions.” his voice was soft. He wanted to understand, and prevent this from happening in the future, from both sides. -- Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Feb 24, 2019 14:14:01 GMT -5
What doesn't kill me had better start running. Why are you being so nice to me? Briarthroat wanted to talk about it and find solutions. "No offense," said Scrap-paw slowly, "but you're not a Clanborn cat either, are you? You don’t fit." He was much too soft, compared to everyone else she'd met. With the exception of Applewhisker and Shadowpaw, this Clan was chock full of aggressive, stubborn, rude cats.
She would've felt right at home if they weren't being aggressive, stubborn and rude to her.
Scrap-paw's tail lashed, and though he'd given her a direction to go in, the she-cat stopped in her tracks. She couldn't focus on not getting lost when her head was so full of garbage.
'I don't have to sit here and be insulted by a worthless outsider like you.'
The kitten huffed, fur bristling along her spine and giving her a strong resemblance to a thistle - sharp edges and all.
'What's the matter, Mommy didn't want you anymore?'
Ugh, if she could claw Needlepaw's stupid face off all over again, there was no question in her mind that she would. That little maggot had it coming. Scrap-paw's anger returned, hovering over her like a hornet she couldn't get rid off. The she-cat pivoted sharply toward the ambush ponds. "Forget it. I don't want to talk about it."
There wasn't a snowflake's chance in greenleaf that she'd suddenly start talking about her feelings. Scrap-paw couldn't stand anyone knowing how much Needlepaw's words had hurt. She was mad at herself for even feeling hurt over this at all; so what if her mother had ditched her? Scratch had been the worthless, disloyal one. Not her.
No one needed to know that she still thought about her sometimes, and wondered - just a little - if Scratch regretted turning her back on two of her own kits. 6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 24, 2019 14:16:59 GMT -5
He couldn’t help it, a laugh bubbled up. It wasn’t a mocking sound, rather Briarthroat was quietly charmed by this young cat’s assessment of clan cats. Many cats were rude, yes, as Needlepaw had displayed this morning. But this tom had been kind since his kitten days, spurred by the stories of grandeur his mother shared, and expanded by his mediator position with his brothers. Being nice was not in her vocabulary, yet. “I am clan-born and raised, Scrap-paw,” He said, amusement still clear in his voice. “My two brothers were often at ends with one another, and I found myself in the middle more often than not. It pays to be kind; never know what struggles one is going through.” He touches his tail tip to her side briefly in acknowledgement to her personal strife. He would never know what she went through; even if she chose to tell him, Briarthroat would never fully understand. His family was always around, whether it be those by blood or those by clan. He grew up loved and cherished and respected. And I want you to feel that same love, Briar thought to himself, looking over to his apprentice as she denied saying what happened, seeing the fur along her spine raise as if still hearing whatever the other apprentice said. “ Okay, I won’t push. You can tell me when you’re ready.”The unspoken, “you don’t ever have to tell me, I still believe you” hovered in the pause. “Instead, tell me about the ponds, what do you remember about them from our last visit?”
-- briardad in full effect Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Feb 26, 2019 1:06:59 GMT -5
What doesn't kill me had better start running. Briarthroat didn't push, and Scrap-paw breathed an internal sigh of relief. He was too nice, but sometimes in a good way. So he was Clanborn after all; Scrap-paw flicked an ear to signal she'd taken in his words, but her obstinance over keeping her secrets close remained. They'd been with the Clan a while, but sometimes it felt like she and Snake were the only outsiders in NightClan history - and every seemed hellbent on reminding them they didn't belong.
"The pond? It's a giant puddle with leaves on it," Scrap-paw replied, her expression less angry and more sassy. What a stupid question. Okay, not a stupid question; a test. He was her mentor. He wanted her to learn things, and to prove that she had learned them. Scrap-paw mulled over a more acceptable answer in her head, dull-yellow eyes scanning the deep green foliage of the territory just beyond camp. What if she messed with him a little? Why should she be so nice to him, anyway?
'You're not entirely off the hook here.'
Yeah yeah yeah.
Scrap-paw's heart stirred, a few rebellious sparks lighting the embers in her belly. When they got to the pond, she'd show him what she thought of his nice-guy act. The only truly nice cats in the Clan were Snake and Applewhisker - everyone else had ulterior motives. Everyone else expected something from her, or stomped on her paws before she could prove a single frogdung'd thing.
"It's where NightClan cats go to get water," said Scrap-paw finally. "Frogs are there sometimes. And a duck, whatever that is." 6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw williams 263 Words Notes: Time to act out!
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 26, 2019 22:59:21 GMT -5
"The pond? It's a giant puddle with leaves on it,"Walked straight into that one, didn't you. Briarthroat didn't sigh, as much as he wanted to. He did snort though, eyes scrunching with good humor at his own foolishness. The pair waited in silence for Scrap-paw to find the answer he was looking for, and he felt a bit of pride when he saw her stop and think of more to give him. When he got more, Briarthroat gave a nod, gesturing wide with a paw at the surface of the pond they found themselves by. "We've probably scared off the frogs, and ah, singular duck," He prodded gently at her word choice with a smile to show that he meant it in casual jest rather than to hurt. "These ponds, how do you think they get their name?" Briarthroat let her lead with finding an answer. Fighting, as he was starting to learn, would probably be Scrap's strongest area, and any chance to flex that, both literally and mentally, would do his little apprentice good. Perhaps, he hoped, it would be something they could find common ground on, something that would make Scrap-paw feel a part of the clan. Starclan knew she needed something to keep her here, other than her care for Snakepaw. -- FawnI forgot about briar's earlier worries but here we are, back to him being worried she'd leave haha
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Post by Fawn on Feb 27, 2019 7:25:24 GMT -5
What doesn't kill me had better start running. "We've probably scared off the frogs, and ah, singular duck,"
Briarthroat earned himself a narrowing of Scrap-paw's eyes as she tried to determine if he was subtly poking fun at her or not. What's so funny? Fortunately the tom's next question distracted her, and Scrap-paw's lips pulled back into a considering grimace. Why was it called the ambush pond? First order of business, Scrap-paw had to remember what an ambush even was. Apparently, it didn't actually involve a bush. It involved hiding and jumping out at someone; a few of the old cats - the ones even older than Briarthroat! - spoke about battles and ambushes like they were the greatest things in the whole valley.
So why is the ambush pond called the ambush pond?
To ambush.... prey? Or... to ambush other cats?
Scrap-paw pictured Pinestar hiding somewhere in the encroaching flora, ready to eat her alive like a plump finch on the fresh kill pile. Scrap-paw's pelt prickled but she gave herself a quick shake, acting as if that visual in her head hadn't freaked her out a little.
"Because NightClan uses it to ambush frogs." Scrap-paw stole a glance at her tabby-and-white mentor, searching his face for hints. "And other cats. Frogs and cats." Another scrutinizing glance. "And maybe a duck."
She didn't know why, but she felt her pelt begin to warm at the roots. A stab of fury over this reaction had Scrap-paw marching on ahead, trying to reach the pond as if the answer would be spelled out for her in pond scum and frog dung. Why did she care so much about his opinion? He was her mentor, whatever, but she wanted ... I may be not be one of their precious Clanborn apprentices, but I can learn just as good. Maybe even better.
She had a brain between her ears, even if she preferred to do most of her 'thinking' with her claws. 6 Moons | Apprentice | NightClan ScraPaw
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thanks for the two years <3 |
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INVENTORY
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Post by williams on Feb 27, 2019 20:39:51 GMT -5
The older tom listened patiently to Scrap-paw's further explanation, head tilted towards her to show he was listening. Briarthroat didn't laugh at the glare he received over the duck comment, knowing that in their combined lifetimes in Nightclan, they'd probably see a single duck anyways, the rare prey often a treat for their clan. He did smile innocently though, knowing he would have to explain that one day. "You're getting closer," He agreed with a nod, catching up to his apprentice's wandering steps. At her side, he barred her from stepping further forward with a paw, not even risking the chance of Scrap-paw blowing through his tail. "Remember what ambush means? 'surprise attack', that surprise part is what this pond is good for. The ground may look solid but-" He flicked his claws through the muck, dislodging enough to show that the ground before them was not as stable as it appeared. The ripples splashed almost to their front paws once they spread out. Briarthroat turned to gauge Scrap-paw's reaction, then continued. "Nightclan cats learn to tread carefully, whereas we can lead cats unfamiliar to the territory over and give them a nasty surprise."
-- Fawn
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