Recent content by TWILIGHTPAW

Though he eases into the topic with (what he would call) generous tact and grace, it is not received with the same amicability. At first, Raccoonstripe finds humor in the stilted conversation. Twilightpaw nods slightly as his father points out that it is not the first time he'd been seated so...

Our deputy, Raccoonstripe. It sounds right. To a degree, it feels right too. Twilightpaw has never been the sort to dwell on the mushiness of feelings, ever the strict and logical child in her brood. But even she can justify the divinity of blood and its nature to cling to familiarity. Their...

Twilightpaw basks in the filtered rays of sunlight, eyes closed to the warmth it provides. He feels relaxed with Honeypaw, the other grooming their fur, their tails loosely falling over one another. In due time his mother will summon them for another patrol, another training session - but until...

She is more alike her mother in that petty gossip is not her favorite pastime - and yet, she consistently gets roped into it one way or another. This time, the molly isn't even in the conversation, other than being a passing subject of it. She's mid stretch when she hears her name, knocking her...

The comfort that wreathes around them settles her taut limbs. They dismiss their brief worry, favoring the quiet stretches over what could be a useless argument, and Twilightpaw quietly leans into it. The young molly shifts her weight one final time to ensure her comfort, her eyes closed, blind...

"Purrpaw! I wasn't done talking!" The deep hued apprentice stalks forward, a broad grin plastered to his face. It's almost as if his friend hadn't heard a single thing he was saying - the other simply stood and left! And to approach their grey furred leader, at that! Duskpaw rolls his shoulders...

He is settled, reclined uncomfortably by the medicine den. The paths of his scars fall over his spine like rivers in their own right, each slathered with a mixture of herbs that he cannot bother to recall. The scent has long since stopped bothering him - Twilightpaw imagines that sleeping in the...

Twilightpaw had spoken to Coltstorm once in recent moons - at least, only one time where it counted. They used to be good friends in their nursery days, she'd admit, but they grew apart and she hadn't the time to entertain his antics. The molly had dove into her apprenticehood, with the help of...

Perhaps she doesn't recognize it at first. Her paw is surefooted, more than it has been in recent days, and her actions certain. Yet when she gives them a breadth of her space - they greedily steal more from her. Her moonlit washed nose touches his, laden with sweat and speckled with blood. It's...

Twilightpaw feels little more than a phantom in the night. The moon begs to wash the blood from her pelt, the starlight wishes to sew her wounds back together - but still, every night she pains, every hour she aches. Moments pass where she wonders if she is truly here, or if the pelt her father...

It's as if something had snapped within them - he blames newleaf, the blooming warmth enticing toms and mollies alike to sharpen their claws and fangs on the nearest pelt. He hadn't been intertwined with any farse such as that yet - not one that would earn him a verbal lashing at least. But...

She does notice. The ache in her chest inspires a want to be close again, to thieve his warmth straight from his tattered pelt and never return it. She'd bury his cold body without a second thought and forget where the grave lie, too. She'd ruin him, every bit of him, just for that morsel of...

She hears its voice like its an echo - reverberating around the hollows of her mind before properly consumed. Golden eyes, haggard and exhausted, lift to see similarly colored ones, only tinged with annoyance and disgust. She figures it won't be long until hers muddy, too. You're foul, she can't...

In truth, he never cared to ask if Honeypaw liked their nesting arrangement. He always saw it as a necessary evil, one that in this moment, he unknowingly missed terribly. It was done out of a sense of duty, but continued by comradery and a loose idea of friendship. The routine of curling up...

She wakes with a sharp gasp, sitting up too quickly - the pain in her body radiates immediately and Twilightpaw winces, teeth clenching to hold in the sound. Her heart still hammers, visions of her father bleeding out but never getting up, the sound of hawk-cry's and beating wings. Every shift...