Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2020 19:03:15 GMT -5
LIGHTNINGCLAN |
15 MOONS |
EVER WAXING AND WANING
Greenpaw felt exasperated by Sparkjaw's innate ability to attract grime, grit, and vulgarities. The tom was quite filthy, and didn't seem to be affronted by that one bit. She waited disdainfully at the edge of the trampled clearing while the ginger and white tom bounded forward exuberantly: she could practically see dirt permeating the air from his movement. She gave her own shoulder a few self-conscious licks to straighten any misplaced hairs from the hike there. Since Shadeheart's death, it felt like she had to kit-sit the tom and keep him from getting into trouble.
Of course, it was impossible. She figured StarClan would sort out his fate themselves at this point.
"Rain is coming." Greenpaw noted, the fresh, crisp scent of precipitation on the breeze. It would be a profound storm, the clouds darkening to an ash grey along the reddening, evening horizon. She felt shivers rush up her spine. She really did crave an unrelenting storm. When I'm in my nest. Greenpaw thought, heart dropping to her toes. Her green gaze followed the tom's movements with little interest.
"You know, muscles won't work themselves." Sparkjaw chided.
"Some do." Greenpaw retorted reticently, gaze calculating and intelligent.
She did know how to shoot down a conversation. It was a gift. Though Sparkjaw knew how to start them quicker than she could end them.
"That's ridiculous." He started, that alluring, golden gaze drawing her forward a few reluctant steps. She would never admit it, but she admired Sparkjaw's charisma. She heard from Shadeheart many stories of Sparkjaw's meddlings and witnessed a few firsthand. The tom, at most, intrigued Greenpaw. Perhaps it was mild attraction or a brotherly love. Perhaps she craved the influence that came so easy to him. His raspy voice lulled her from the depths her mind. "Maybe you should become a Medicine Cat and prove me wrong? Greenherb, Medicine Cat Apprentice of LightningClan. It has a nice ring to it."
Greenherb. Classic Sparkjaw: trite and crude.
It did hit home though, his jibe. Greenpaw often saw herself glancing over at Kindleflare's den, watching the senior Medicine Cat complete tasks in the absence of Tigereye. She couldn't imagine the throttling emptiness the she-cat must have felt hearing of the death of her apprentice and confidant. Was it similar to what Birchspots felt when he lost his kin?
Or what Sparkjaw felt when he lost Shadeheart?
She looked up at the ginger and white tom, fern green eyes flashing with an inkling of sympathy. She didn't connect with others the same way he did. Sparkjaw loved from the bottom of his heart. Failure shattered him, but he always managed to piece himself back together. Envy sharpened Greenpaw's gaze and forced her forward with renewed resolve.
In a way, he was right. She wasn't going to pass her assessments with only luck to guide her.
"Maybe I will." She retorted properly with a sneer, eyes lighting up with mischief. Greenpaw crouched down, tail sweeping low to the ground. "But first, I need to put you in your place."
Greenpaw pounced playfully at first, though in short time the warrior and apprentice began grappling intensely. Training had begun.
Greenpaw ripped from from Sparkjaw's grip, a slight scratch on the side of her muzzle softly dripping blood.
"No risk, no reward," Sparkjaw panted, comment laced with a hoarse huff of laughter.
Greenpaw felt the throes of anger flit before her eyes, her green gaze growing stony and her heart stilling. The silence was deadening. Her muscles tightened rapidly, though before she leaped, a rustle stole her attention. Sparkjaw leaped at her, though a quick duck and dodge left him with empty paws.
"Come train with us." Greenpaw invited, facing the new arrival, bright and alert. Exercise chased away her reluctance and pessimism, for a moment at least. "I'd argue your chances of precision training are far more lucrative on dry ground. Unless you know how to swim."
Of course, it was impossible. She figured StarClan would sort out his fate themselves at this point.
"Rain is coming." Greenpaw noted, the fresh, crisp scent of precipitation on the breeze. It would be a profound storm, the clouds darkening to an ash grey along the reddening, evening horizon. She felt shivers rush up her spine. She really did crave an unrelenting storm. When I'm in my nest. Greenpaw thought, heart dropping to her toes. Her green gaze followed the tom's movements with little interest.
"You know, muscles won't work themselves." Sparkjaw chided.
"Some do." Greenpaw retorted reticently, gaze calculating and intelligent.
She did know how to shoot down a conversation. It was a gift. Though Sparkjaw knew how to start them quicker than she could end them.
"That's ridiculous." He started, that alluring, golden gaze drawing her forward a few reluctant steps. She would never admit it, but she admired Sparkjaw's charisma. She heard from Shadeheart many stories of Sparkjaw's meddlings and witnessed a few firsthand. The tom, at most, intrigued Greenpaw. Perhaps it was mild attraction or a brotherly love. Perhaps she craved the influence that came so easy to him. His raspy voice lulled her from the depths her mind. "Maybe you should become a Medicine Cat and prove me wrong? Greenherb, Medicine Cat Apprentice of LightningClan. It has a nice ring to it."
Greenherb. Classic Sparkjaw: trite and crude.
It did hit home though, his jibe. Greenpaw often saw herself glancing over at Kindleflare's den, watching the senior Medicine Cat complete tasks in the absence of Tigereye. She couldn't imagine the throttling emptiness the she-cat must have felt hearing of the death of her apprentice and confidant. Was it similar to what Birchspots felt when he lost his kin?
Or what Sparkjaw felt when he lost Shadeheart?
She looked up at the ginger and white tom, fern green eyes flashing with an inkling of sympathy. She didn't connect with others the same way he did. Sparkjaw loved from the bottom of his heart. Failure shattered him, but he always managed to piece himself back together. Envy sharpened Greenpaw's gaze and forced her forward with renewed resolve.
In a way, he was right. She wasn't going to pass her assessments with only luck to guide her.
"Maybe I will." She retorted properly with a sneer, eyes lighting up with mischief. Greenpaw crouched down, tail sweeping low to the ground. "But first, I need to put you in your place."
Greenpaw pounced playfully at first, though in short time the warrior and apprentice began grappling intensely. Training had begun.
Greenpaw ripped from from Sparkjaw's grip, a slight scratch on the side of her muzzle softly dripping blood.
"No risk, no reward," Sparkjaw panted, comment laced with a hoarse huff of laughter.
Greenpaw felt the throes of anger flit before her eyes, her green gaze growing stony and her heart stilling. The silence was deadening. Her muscles tightened rapidly, though before she leaped, a rustle stole her attention. Sparkjaw leaped at her, though a quick duck and dodge left him with empty paws.
"Come train with us." Greenpaw invited, facing the new arrival, bright and alert. Exercise chased away her reluctance and pessimism, for a moment at least. "I'd argue your chances of precision training are far more lucrative on dry ground. Unless you know how to swim."
Ghost the Undead Goddess Abyss Katara
