camp うっせぇわ — tripping

[LITTLEMOON]

it's not my fault i have my father's eyes .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Just outside the apprentice den, more tired than he expected. Littlepaw had opted to curl into himself, as far as he could, nose tucked beneath the curl of his calloused paw, keeping away the vicious chill that nestled into the thick of his fur. He breathed, warming the calloused appendage with soft, even breaths.

It was pleasant—calming, even to the small apprentice nestled beneath a thick layer of snow and other miscellaneous objects he swept onto him. The chill sent shivers down the lengths of his spine, causing the snow pile to tremble nearly causing him to sneeze. His nose crinkled with a drawn-out sigh, annoyance swirling in his gut like hot iron.

His frame was barely visible, tucked away from prying eyes and well hidden from anyone who wanted to find him, those being the few he could count with his toe pads, not like the others. He was fine with the perdurable solitude he wafted like calm waves against a sandy beach.

Littlepaw stiffened, feeling someone’s paw connect with his frame, sending him sprawling out of his warm burrow and into the chilly, unforgiving air with an undignified squawk. His form was stiff like puppet limbs, drawing out a loud snort from the snow wedging itself up his nose with a loud hiss. “Watch where you’re going!” He snapped, losing its unapologetic anger, replaced by unfiltered bluntness, tone rising in pitch despite himself. “Stupid. Stupid!” He muttered, rubbing his chilling nose, willing the last remnants of warmth to seep back in. ​

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thought speech​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

On his way to collect Crowpaw for yet another training session, the Lead Warrior was prepared to face the most unpleasant aspects of leafbare's weather to test his apprentice's endurance. A SkyClan cat could have many virtues outside of combat, but influenced by the rogues and other aggressive outsiders, fighting had taken up so much of Silversmoke's lessons that he didn't know if he'd even be able to catch up on hunting training. It seemed like a sunk-cost fallacy to try, when Crowpaw could be strong enough to take on the broad-shouldered warriors in other clans, he was sure someone else would be able to balance the specialty and keep him fed. Still, he knew he'd made a mistake somewhere, the thought ate at his mind as he rehearsed his words to the black smoke. In his near-blind eye, he didn't see the two-toned shape as anything more than a snow-covered rock. A paw pushed against it as he passed as if to test if it would be movable in the future, it wasn't like he remembered there being a boulder there. Within an instant, he heard what he could only akin to a rabbit's death squeal.

Silversmoke whipped his head around in surprise, seeing more clearly now a little nose and narrowed eyes, a cat in his clan. Heat rose to his ears as they flattened in embarrassment. "Sor—" Watch where you're going! Lightning struck his features, a tempered smoldering turning into a forest fire. He waited to see if Littlepaw had seen who he was talking to for a whole of one second before a hiss erupted from his muzzle. The idea of apologising vanished in an instant as the apprentice unknowingly brought attention to a weakness in the tom, the sudden vulnerability sending a cold lick down his spine. "If you have time to sleep, you have time to clean the nursery. Go, now, before the next place you're pushed into is a lake."

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[CROWSIGHT]

Silversmoke was not a good mentor when it came to hunting. He loved his mentor that was fact, but he still wasn't great at hunting. What good was knowing how to fight if you weren't able to feed yourself? While he happy to learn more about battle with his mentor there is only so much they can do to avoid hunting. Quite frankly he was alarmed that his mentor had not called for him. Silversmoke was not one to suddenly cancel unless something serious has happened. Or maybe the tom was running late or something. Being late was not rare but he wouldn't say it was commonplace. His mentor as he learned was rigid and tended to keep things on time, or tried to. Sometimes he would get word from other's that his mentor was needed by Blazestar and thus training was either cancelled or a more common occurrence, that he would be training with another warrior for the day.

His mentor didn't give him any notice so black paws would pad against the snow in search of silver. When he did follow the scent of his mentor he bore witness to Littlepaw snapping at his mentor. A surge of anger overtook him, yet before he could hiss and bat at Littlepaw his mentor soothed him with their threat towards Littlepaw. I have an idea. He would settle beside his mentor and look uninterested towards Littlepaw. Then, he would look at his mentor and ask, "can we train with Littlepaw today?" I want to show him respect.

‧₊˚✩彡 nothing compares to the fever dream

• — crowpaw / skyclan apprentice / masculine pronouns / 7 moons
  — undecided / single / not looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — long haired black smoke with hazel eyes with polydactyly
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

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[LITTLEMOON]

it's not my fault i have my father's eyes .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Still rubbing his chilled nose, Littlepaw barely heard Silversmoke over the frantic muttering, muscles tensing at a familiar voice, one he still disliked after all these moons, drawing a scowl against his scarred lips. “Shouldn’t you ask my mentor?” He replied bitterly, pulling his paw away with a shuddered sneeze, nose wrinkling at the chilled burn it brought. His face remained neutral despite the curl of anger in his tone, teeth digging into his tongue, eerie gaze staring at Silversmoke. And shouldn’t you tell that to your apprentice?

Littlepaw felt the subtle twitch of his lips curl downward, shaking his black-and-white fur out, getting rid of the rest of the powered white that stuck to his fur alongside the few twigs and pine needles he collected during his grand sweep of burrowing himself in the thick of it. His chest shuddered, chewing at his tongue, trying to remain silent, but standing within distance of someone he still held a grudge over was causing his resolve to waver. Dawnglare would have more on his paws if you tossed me in. He wanted to comment, otherwise peeling away from the two with narrowed hues, bloodied tongue peeking out to lick at his fangs.

Tiredness weighed heavily over the apprentice, but Littlepaw’s stubbornness outweighed his most basic needs, glaring at Crowpaw and back to Silversmoke’s paws, far bigger than his own. With a shake of his helm, the small apprentice huffed, biting his tongue, he spun around, carrying himself toward the nursery. ​

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thought speech​