Post by ♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 on Apr 14, 2021 5:08:20 GMT -5
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RAVENPAW
RAVENPAWl i g h t n i n g c l a n 
a p p r e n t i c e
Open your eyes, choking on his breath.
a p p r e n t i c eOpen your eyes, choking on his breath.
Leaf-bare was finally beginning to recede from the valley after a long, hard season. A bright sun beamed cheerfully down at the leafless trees, a promise of warmth to come that had not yet been fulfilled. Snow still yet clung to the shivering grasses of the moor, and snakes hibernated sluggishly, awaiting the warmer moons. With this shift in the weather came the beginnings of snowmelt. The frosty landscape was instead slowly transforming into a muddier, wetter world as the hard white layer turned to unpleasant slush. The air was crisp with anticipation as plants and trees alike waited to unleash the life budding on their branches.
It was through this unpleasant-looking landscape that a small dark figure slowly made his way. No longer was the young tom a shy little kit, but instead a nearly full-grown cat, his green eyes keen and alert. His eyes scanned not just for danger, but for the ever-looming threat of his mentor finding him. His attempts to thwart Galestorm were aided by the blending of the melting slush and new growth, which made scents confusing and muddled. Ravenpaw was on a scent trail, his jaws parted to pick up the faintest traces, raising his paws with shudders each time his pads met with the unpleasant, squashing texture of the slush. He was not intent on catching prey or discovering some poor trespassing loner. No, Ravenpaw’s mission was one of natural curiosity. It was a magpie he was following, a black and white little fiend that was of particular interest to him on this dull, early Newleaf morning. For you see, magpies liked to collect shiny trinkets and interesting items from across the valley. They could lead you to intriguing treasures if you followed them far enough. Objects that had no name in cat tongue, but were interesting all the same. His ears perked as he heard the familiar chattering, leading him deeper and deeper into the open woods at the edges of LightningClan territory.
But then, another scent reached his maw. TreeClan. He glanced back at the invisible line that marked the limits of his world, nothing more than a urinated marker that told LightningClan cats “no entry beyond this point”. He had unwittingly crossed the border. Surprised and distracted, Ravenpaw hesitated. He’d never left those boundaries behind him before, not even for something as interesting as a magpie. But the tug in his heart urged him to ignore whatever silly limits he was told he had to respect. With a prickle of excitement, Ravenpaw knew he’d already decided that the borders didn’t define his limits today. Besides, he wasn’t here to steal prey. What was the point of telling him where his paws could and couldn’t be, if he wasn’t planning on stealing anything at all? Reassured by his own newfound philosophy, Ravenpaw promised himself he’d just say “sorry” if he was caught by a TreeClan patrol. He continued to follow the magpie, which he could now see. It was hopping a little ways ahead of him, watching him with beady intelligent eyes. Magpies liked to get up to mischief, to taunt and tease foxes and cats. They found it fun to thwart the danger. So this one hadn’t yet flown away from him, and instead regarded him with what had to be the closest thing to a smirk a beak could achieve. Ravenpaw smiled as he came across a feather that the bird ahead of him discarded, black, but with so many different iridescent colours blended in. Blues and greens. How sad that his own pelt couldn’t look that interesting.
Snap. A twig. Suddenly anxious, Ravenpaw glanced around, green eyes peering into the undergrowth. What had that been? TreeClan cat? Some other unknown danger he hadn’t considered? Suddenly, crossing the boundary didn’t seem like such a powerful move anymore. “Hello?” He meowed, his voice uncertain, but not hostile or defensive.
It was through this unpleasant-looking landscape that a small dark figure slowly made his way. No longer was the young tom a shy little kit, but instead a nearly full-grown cat, his green eyes keen and alert. His eyes scanned not just for danger, but for the ever-looming threat of his mentor finding him. His attempts to thwart Galestorm were aided by the blending of the melting slush and new growth, which made scents confusing and muddled. Ravenpaw was on a scent trail, his jaws parted to pick up the faintest traces, raising his paws with shudders each time his pads met with the unpleasant, squashing texture of the slush. He was not intent on catching prey or discovering some poor trespassing loner. No, Ravenpaw’s mission was one of natural curiosity. It was a magpie he was following, a black and white little fiend that was of particular interest to him on this dull, early Newleaf morning. For you see, magpies liked to collect shiny trinkets and interesting items from across the valley. They could lead you to intriguing treasures if you followed them far enough. Objects that had no name in cat tongue, but were interesting all the same. His ears perked as he heard the familiar chattering, leading him deeper and deeper into the open woods at the edges of LightningClan territory.
But then, another scent reached his maw. TreeClan. He glanced back at the invisible line that marked the limits of his world, nothing more than a urinated marker that told LightningClan cats “no entry beyond this point”. He had unwittingly crossed the border. Surprised and distracted, Ravenpaw hesitated. He’d never left those boundaries behind him before, not even for something as interesting as a magpie. But the tug in his heart urged him to ignore whatever silly limits he was told he had to respect. With a prickle of excitement, Ravenpaw knew he’d already decided that the borders didn’t define his limits today. Besides, he wasn’t here to steal prey. What was the point of telling him where his paws could and couldn’t be, if he wasn’t planning on stealing anything at all? Reassured by his own newfound philosophy, Ravenpaw promised himself he’d just say “sorry” if he was caught by a TreeClan patrol. He continued to follow the magpie, which he could now see. It was hopping a little ways ahead of him, watching him with beady intelligent eyes. Magpies liked to get up to mischief, to taunt and tease foxes and cats. They found it fun to thwart the danger. So this one hadn’t yet flown away from him, and instead regarded him with what had to be the closest thing to a smirk a beak could achieve. Ravenpaw smiled as he came across a feather that the bird ahead of him discarded, black, but with so many different iridescent colours blended in. Blues and greens. How sad that his own pelt couldn’t look that interesting.
Snap. A twig. Suddenly anxious, Ravenpaw glanced around, green eyes peering into the undergrowth. What had that been? TreeClan cat? Some other unknown danger he hadn’t considered? Suddenly, crossing the boundary didn’t seem like such a powerful move anymore. “Hello?” He meowed, his voice uncertain, but not hostile or defensive.
You grimace, then smile.
649 words @poptart