Recent content by TADPOLEPAW

Tadpolepaw hardly feels the soft tap of his mentor's tail over the unnerving rattle of Carrionplace monsters, but acknowledges it still with a slight tilt of his head. The strange noise seems to tremble straight through the soggy earth they traipse through, vibrating through his spidery limbs...

Tadpolepaw sits amongst the gathering crowd of cats, the eyes of ShadowClan a sea of blinking, glowing lights all angled up towards the brightest of them all. They wonder how Chilledstar feels, standing up there all alone. Tad doesn't even know if the midnight leader feels anything at all...

Tadpolepaw doesn't really want to partake in a competition when they barely caught their first prey only a few sunrises ago. It'd been a toad, too busy croaking up a storm in the evening to notice them sneaking up behind it, and they pretty much fumbled it to death between their teeth and claws...

Tadpolepaw rarely ever strays towards the nursery. They don't think they'd be particularly good with kits, despite having been one themself not many moons ago. It'd been a different kind of kithood for them though; they were not raised by a bustling village but a single, steady hand, groomed by...

Sparrowpaw's eager response loosens some tension from their shadow-wrought jaw. Coming to the Gathering hadn't exactly been nerve-wracking, but he hadn't expected the other clans to be outright enthusiastic to share with him either. Maybe it's just Sparrowpaw, but he could've sworn a hesitant...

Tadpolepaw sways where they stand, blinking dew-drops of sleep from viridescent squints and rubbing away the rest with a paw. @Needledrift (or some other warrior, they can't quite remember in the fuzz of awakening) had to tug them to their feet and out of their nest for the morning patrol. It's...

Tadpolepaw tilts his head, letting the stranger's scent trickle through his nose as they put a name to it: SkyClan. "It's nice to meet you, Sparrowpaw," he responds just as he's supposed to. Really, he doesn't know what else to say for greetings, and there's a thousand other questions fizzing on...

She doesn't know where Dragonflypaw and her chatterbox of a father came from, though she faintly recalls something about Honeyjaw between all his starling chatter on patrols. All Tadpolepaw knows is that the apprentice besides her is the talk of the Clan, the bird of her parents' eyes─if one...

His eyes seldom blink as the living shadow weaves through the silver-edged crowd, blown open like iridescent leaves flattened against his face. Tadpolepaw's head feels like it's wobbling precariously on his swannish neck, tugged this way and that by the sheer amount of scent and sound. Not even...

A startled flicker leaps through his chest at Honeyjaw's comment. He's not going to, is he? he silently hopes. There's no reason for Loki to reel back his compliment though, and it wasn't like he could fish it out of Honeyjaw's ears anyway, so attuned were they to the slightest comment on his...

Long ears prick at the call, which was gaining familiarity by the day. That's...Sabletuft...? They blink around, immediately spotting the white-patched tom by his height alone. As the apprentice slinks towards him, they reflect on the fluidity of his name now, even in the silent voice of their...

Loki trails alongside the group of ShadowClanners, nearly invisible in their shadows save for the blue sheen of his pelt. Placing his paws nearly within their pawprints, he still doesn't quite feel as though he belongs with the shadowy wildcats. From his lower vantage point he watches broad...

Loki absentmindedly chews at the bundle of cordgrass in his jaws. The rough strands rub uncomfortably against the backs of his teeth, but their usefulness trumps whatever momentary discomfort may have stopped him in a past life. He's caught between motivations: gathering nesting materials to...

Loki has never seen the real ShadowClan camp, and yet they've set foot on ThunderClan territory, an apparently forbidden place. They feel as though everyone had settled back into their old ways of life, leaving them behind to flounder in what generic apprentice duties the warriors could spare...

Once more, something moves in the shadows. Loki glimpses first a thin streak of white, like a sustainted bolt of lightning in miniature, held captive in the walls of the tunnel. Another brilliant movement, so vivid he scarcely believes he didn't notice them first, and a pair of ice-veined eyes...