- May 17, 2023
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Drowsypaw's missing. Cherrypaw isn't sure how many, if any, have noticed yet. If she's honest with herself, she's surprised she noticed at all. Ever since she had returned from the mountains, Drowsypaw had faded from an awkward series of interactions to just Lupinepaw's brother. Neither of them seemed to have lugged their kithood quarrel into apprenticeship, something Cherrypaw finds herself faintly grateful for beneath the burden of the other kithood quarrels that had persisted. The smoke-furred boy is someone that fades into the background noise of her life, another crackle among the flames.
"I see something," she quietly hisses to her patrol-mates, and bounds past the nearest trees before any of them can say anything. The apprentice isn't a good tracker, not by a long shot, but her fleeting experiences with the boy clue her into where he might be. Beneath one of the few, scraggly thickets in SkyClan territory—no. In the crevice of a particularly cavernous pile of rocks—nope. In the gnarled roots of an old tree, the thickest of them wider than her torso—there he is.
Citrine eyes blink, bewildered, at the slumbering whorl of black amid the brown-gray gradient of melting snow and earth. Drowsypaw looks way too peaceful for someone who had been assigned to chase after birds and mice today. His slack jaws and fluttering whiskers only make her want to wake him up more. "Drowsypaw! Drowsypaw!" she seethes, reaching out with a paw to roughly shake his shoulder. Her narrowed stare is pitiless. "Hey, mouse-brain. What in the name of StarClan are you doing? Please tell me you just got, like, knocked out by a branch or something." The words are hushed, breathed through gritted teeth beneath furtive glances behind her. If he got caught not hunting, she would be caught not hunting, and there was no way she was going to risk bringing down the wrath of both of their black-pelted, orange-eyed mentors.
ooc: please wait for @DROWSYPAW to post!
"I see something," she quietly hisses to her patrol-mates, and bounds past the nearest trees before any of them can say anything. The apprentice isn't a good tracker, not by a long shot, but her fleeting experiences with the boy clue her into where he might be. Beneath one of the few, scraggly thickets in SkyClan territory—no. In the crevice of a particularly cavernous pile of rocks—nope. In the gnarled roots of an old tree, the thickest of them wider than her torso—there he is.
Citrine eyes blink, bewildered, at the slumbering whorl of black amid the brown-gray gradient of melting snow and earth. Drowsypaw looks way too peaceful for someone who had been assigned to chase after birds and mice today. His slack jaws and fluttering whiskers only make her want to wake him up more. "Drowsypaw! Drowsypaw!" she seethes, reaching out with a paw to roughly shake his shoulder. Her narrowed stare is pitiless. "Hey, mouse-brain. What in the name of StarClan are you doing? Please tell me you just got, like, knocked out by a branch or something." The words are hushed, breathed through gritted teeth beneath furtive glances behind her. If he got caught not hunting, she would be caught not hunting, and there was no way she was going to risk bringing down the wrath of both of their black-pelted, orange-eyed mentors.
ooc: please wait for @DROWSYPAW to post!