❝ built and broken —— intro

[♦ palepaw]

❝  Sometimes he wonders what it'd be like to live another life. Some other sorta way, with faces so far off from the ones he knew. What do the other clans want out of their new homes an' lives? Do they ever think about ThunderClan? He wouldn't blame them if they didn't– wasn't all that great, after all. It was just...home. Just another place. But hey, that was all they needed. After the battle and all that'd shattered those next few weeks, a place to settle his paws felt like enough. They were family, or were growing to be one. Still, though. He thinks about it anyway. Maybe he'd be a great swimmer if he was brave enough to try. Maybe he'd love the open skies WindClan claimed. Maybe he'd even've loved ShadowClan in their quiet depths. He'd never been. Furthest was that place all the blood'd been spilled. It wasn't a place he wanted to return to. Not even in his head.

So maybe this'll be as far as he ever wanders. The pale apprentice stands stark against the warm surface of the sunningrocks, balancing atop one before leaping to the next. As good as it'd feel to rest here, he's not sure if his eyes could take it. Even the reflections on the water's surface have him wanting to wince, and his back's starting to burn up. Still he loves it– fuckin' digs it, really, even going so far as to pause and look down to consider jumping in. Would he've been a good RiverClan cat?

Was he even a good ThunderClan one?

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• biography.
  

  
  PALEPAW. apprentice of thunderclan. holds no titles or nicknames. npc x npc.
  ──── uses he - him + they - them with masculine titles. will accept others.
  ──── about seven moons old,  born in late january.  former pine group cat.
  ──── sexuality unknown, crushes on all sorts of genders and presentations.
  
  a small, fluffy albino cat with some faint sun damage freckling peeking out where his fur is thinnest. his pale, nearly colorless blue eyes have the faintest tinge of pink around the pupil and outer edges of his iris due to his albinism, only visible on close inspection.
• "speech"

​

 

[PLOVERPAW.]

Plover didn’t used to travel far from camp, too afraid of what they may find out in the woods on their own. But the beautiful landscape that is ThunderClan’s territory has proven to be a great area to collect rocks, so they’ve been venturing out more often as of late. If they hope to recreate the hoard that they’d had back in the marshes, they would need many more.

A rock formation stands ahead of them—because what better place is there to find rocks?—and they can hear the telltale sound of the river not too far away. Plover takes note of a pale figure standing amongst the rocks, and though they can’t put a name to the face, they decide that as long as it isn’t Wolf, they’ll be okay. They stick to the shade, icy eyes squinted against the harsh sunlight. After a few moments of quiet, curious observation, the smoke finally asks a careful question. "What are you doing out here?" They drag a paw shyly through the dirt as they speak, hoping that this apprentice isn’t as obnoxious as some of the others are.
​

[ PENNED BY FOXLORE ]​

​

 

[TRUFFLEPELT]

Even through eyes frayed by age, the albino's form was bright against the grey rocks and quite easily noticeable- he'd be helpless if he had not noticed. Coming to rest after leg-joints groaned from his hunt, Truffle was not expecting to spot others here- though Plover's face, friendly and serene, was not an unwelcome one. He was not familiar with the stark tom who danced upon the rocks, but the smoke's question blandished a laugh from the senior tom, skittering through tusk-teeth. It was a silly thing to laugh at, such a simple question... but the joys of being social again made Truffle want to waltz atop those stones too.

"I have never tried jumping on them," he hummed, humour warming his tone. The glare of the sun obstructed his view, but through the flat he could just about meet the pale one's equally pale gaze. ​

( PENNED BY PIN )​

 

[osprey]

── This place was worth dying for, if the battle at the Fourtrees proved anything. It's better than some of the spots Osprey used to stay at with his mother; there's fresh water and trees to climb, and far more food than he's used to seeing, but it's the people he struggles with. There are so many of them, and they're loud and obtrusive in an entirely new way that concrete streets weren't. He stays because his mother had wanted him to, and he isn't sure where else he could go that wouldn't be similarly overwhelming. And as much as he loathes admitting it, he has more to learn if he'll ever successfully and fully rely on himself.

Osprey watches the pale, alabaster cat standing on the broad stones, even though it's clear to him that the bare sun causes some discomfort. He's joined quickly enough by two others, the first close in age and the second much older. His ears twitch, and he glances at the river from his branch with narrow-eyed distrust before transitioning from tree to stone with only a slight stumble. "You're too bright," he tells the palest cat, his gaze fixed on the heated rock below their paws. "You should be under the trees."
​

 

[Flycatcher]

Even from a distance, the pale form of the alabaster apprentice sticks upon the rocks. The blue tabby pads up alongside the rest of his assembled clanmates at the sunningrocks. Unlike the others, he says little for now, only watching the pale apprentice carefully, eyes flickering between him and the stone. Fly has never stood on them himself but looking at them now, warmed by the sun, he finds himself curious about what that would feel like under his paws. "You weren't thinking of jumping in were you?" Fly asks the pale tom curiously, a faint hint of humour lacing his words. ​

 

[♦ palepaw]

❝  Camp's a helluva boring place, really. He's never been afraid of wandering off, but– maybe he he was afraid of different things. Maybe it's like what Osprey talked about. Was he afraid of losing ThunderClan? Of dying for it? Or of those around dying for it instead? He doesn't know what he wants, just that this place is all of it and none of it at once. He's always tumbled around life with a desire for more. Some of the older cats tried to get him to set it down, called it a silly burden, but he's not here for the easy life. He'll always be desperate for better. None of these cats seem to get it. (Either that or he's too caught up in his own life to see it, something Pale would never admit.)

"So what if I was?" he answers, all too cheerfully, getting Fly and Plover at once. "Nah, just– I dunno, having fun?" He leaps up to a new rock, ignoring how the burn hits his sensitive paws. At least nobody here's outright telling him to stop, that it's dangerous, that he's being stupid or foolish or however they manage to sweeten that same word. Except for Osprey. The apprentice hops to another rock, this one closer to him. "Can't tell if that's a statement of fact or some kinda insult." It's not like he's wrong, though. The sun hurts when it's hitting unfiltered. Some of the others like to be here all the time, lounging or hunting. Maybe in some way, he's trying to– to prove it? That he's just like the rest of them? That he's part of this clan? Too many things to prove. As always.

"Would it be bad? If I jumped in?" He looks at all of them, expression thoughtful. "Would I die or something?"

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• biography.
  

  
  PALEPAW. apprentice of thunderclan. holds no titles or nicknames. npc x npc.
  ──── uses he - him + they - them with masculine titles. will accept others.
  ──── about seven moons old,  born in late january.  former pine group cat.
  ──── sexuality unknown, crushes on all sorts of genders and presentations.
  
  a small, fluffy albino cat with some faint sun damage freckling peeking out where his fur is thinnest. his pale, nearly colorless blue eyes have the faintest tinge of pink around the pupil and outer edges of his iris due to his albinism, only visible on close inspection.
• "speech"

​

 

[Flycatcher]

The young tom cheerfully explains that he is simply having fun. Fly can't really fault him for that. And so long as he wasn't hurting anyone, the blue tabby couldn't really see the issue in him jumping from rock to rock.

At his question, Fly tilts his head in curiosity. "I mean RiverClan supposedly swims in the river all the time, so I can't imagine it's that bad for you," Fly answered honestly. "The question is can you even swim? Cause what if you jump in and get into trouble? One of us will have to come and save you and I don't know about the rest of you, but I am not a good swimmer," Fly chuckled to himself a little at that. "Don't get me wrong I would definitely try though but you'd probably be wishing I was a RiverClan instead once you saw me flailing around."​

 

[PLOVERPAW.]

A few other clanmates join them at the rocks, and Plover isn’t sure who they should be looking at as each of them speaks in turn. The white-furred feline seems to be all too happy to answer their question, though, even if it’s a roundabout answer. Having fun. Isn’t that what they’re all trying to do? Then the white-furred feline is talking about jumping into the river and oh, Plover realizes. Pale is definitely not obnoxious or anything, but they’re reckless. The apprentice doesn’t seem fazed by the idea of dying, and the thought makes Plover feel just a bit light-headed.

"Please don’t," they pipe up, trying not to sound too fearful. Fly jokes that he’s not the greatest swimmer, and the blue smoke thinks that they might need to go lie down for a while. This talk of danger is too much stress for them. In a feeble voice they joke, "I can’t swim, either. I think that you might have to save him after all." Their words are addressed to the older tom, but they can’t seem to take their eyes off the other apprentice, concerned that they may actually jump in after all.
​

[ PENNED BY FOXLORE ]​

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