Recent content by HONEYJAW

They're all so young. Maybe they don't think so. He doesn't really blame them for that. The clans make them grow up fast– for good reason. Their lives are a struggle. To feed themselves, to protect themselves, to even live and be as old as he is. And Honeyjaw isn't all that old. Just...old...

Luckily enough for Sharppaw, reputation isn't something that Honeyjaw puts much stock into. Maybe because his own is a little bit terrible. Or...it had been, back in the day. He likes to think that his time in ShadowClan has proved him reliable enough, if a little bit fumbling, and maybe far too...

It hadn't really needed to settle in for Honeyjaw. Not for a good long while, at least. He'd been so– certain, once, that their ragtag group would remain as such. They would sit in their little bundles of same-scented pelts and stay that way until they made it back. When had things begun to...

Storytelling is something that Honeyjaw is familiar with. Even more than traveling, or getting himself in terrible trouble, he knows how to weave words into something worthy of imagination. It's the one thing that he can cling to as their trek continues. This will make a fantastic story. One...

In the distance, they are beginning to see home. It creeps ever closer, and with the looming Highstones comes a sense of doom. A great reluctance that has built and built nearly to the point of bursting. One step, another, and then– pop! Honeyjaw freezes as if turned to stone. The mouthful of...

"You know, Duskpool," he begins casually, walking up upon the small group with a forced lightheartedness to him (he doesn't quite feel it, though if that is for the wounds they all carried or the sudden pressure of doom upon his shoulders), "I've always wondered why you insist on calling...

Really, he's not sure what any of them expected from him– he laughs. Some part of it is sheer silliness. The fact that these are his clanmates now, that he would die for all of them. The cats ShadowClan had once done battle with now help him through the bush, and even Nightbird's irritation is...

The forest they left behind would not be missed– at least not by Honeyjaw, anyway. The field that stretches before their eyes seems endless and barren, yet far better than the undergrowth he would always find himself tangled in. The ThunderClanners are most certainly sick of him by now. And the...

Honeyjaw had not been born to a colony like this one. The history of this place is not beyond him– he couldn't stay long in ShadowClan without the others spilling it out like some sort of truth serum. As if it's the only story he would ever need to hear. Cats that fought and bled and died for...

See– Honeyjaw had not thought himself terrible at this sort of thing. ShadowClan's territory could not have been all that different from ShadowClan's, after all. Right? They shared a border... sort of. But trekking through this undergrowth, he must confront that very idea. This is different, and...

For a moment, he thought this was the end of it. His small group would be the only survivors– out of everyone that had come, and all that they had been through, this small pawful would have to finish on their own. The thought had despaired him greatly. How could they carry back enough to save...

Being part of this conglomeration feels strange, sometimes. Like they all have some history he's not aware of. A deep-seated wound they squirm around. Between RiverClan and ThunderClan, and WindClan and...well, everyone, this journey is complicated in ways he hadn't fully expected. Been aware...

Even as a ShadowClanner, one of the few most suited for the dark, Honeyjaw can only agree with the rest of them– being out here is a gift he's not going to shun. Being beneath these stars...his clan had taught him to be nocturnal, but even if they hadn't he thinks he would have struggled to...

The tunnels have widened some, and the quiet has become less claustrophobic. Instead, echoes bounce back at them. Each slip of stones across the ground is gravel thrown into his ears and the dripping of water is a terrible menace. Pitter patter and a splash, more often than not. Shallow and...

The cats that sound off aren't all that familiar, but he does his best to memorize them anyway. Slate's the one he'd...bickered at so short a time before, and Little Wolf and Hailstorm are ThunderClanners. Is... is Batwing ThunderClan as well? The sudden swell of their numbers is somewhat...