pafp ๐—•๐”๐‘๐˜๐ˆ๐๐† ๐˜๐Ž๐”๐‘ ๐…๐€๐“๐‡๐„๐‘ โ•ฑ ๐‚๐Ž๐๐’๐“๐‘๐”๐‚๐“๐ˆ๐Ž๐

The snow had kept its slow, inexorable fall well into the night beyond his first meeting. WindClan huddled close beneath the stars, sharing warmth where they could โ€” the hollow contained their heat, reflected it back among them, yet still their pelts were snow-frosted. So little time had passed since Sootstar's demise. Everything was changing in a free fall. None could fight against the gravity of it. All that they may hope is that what they build now will cushion the fallโ€“ that what they lose will not be permanent. Not when there is already so much they have said goodbye to. Badgermoon, Sedgepounce, the look upon Sootspot's face. All things that haunt him almost as strongly as the graves they have buried.

His paws push slowly into the snow. A delicate path carved into the mush. It is not perfect for this, but it is enough to hold its own weight, he hopes. And it should keep them warm through the worst of whatever storm comes forward. "Look, Sunlitpaw," he murmurs, "see where my path turned?" As he describes, there is a crooked twist upon exiting the makeshift den. "To keep the wind from blowing in." His father had taught him this once. Though he had not had a mother like Wolfsong, to teach him of stacked stones and patience, he had a mountain warrior's upbringing. He could survive the snow. Passing such knowledge along leaves a glow in the auburn tom's chest. One just slightly dimmed by his uncertainty with the frailest of his kittens. Strength alone keeps his smile from faltering as he considers their avoidance of him.
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  • OOC. please wait for @sunlitpaw !!
  • sun_icon_new2.png
    SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN. โ€‚ โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†โ€†โ‹†
    โ€”โ€”โ€“ HE โ€“ HIM โ€“ HIS โ•ฑโ•ฑ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.
    NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.

    TH โ•ฑโ•ฑ A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES
 
Sunlitpaw had been exceedingly unenthused about this particular task. The apprentice was deft with their paws, a skill certainly more apt for tunnellers than moor-runners, although their size would never lend themselves to the labyrinth beneath the grasses. They knew that of all the unoccupied paws mulling around, they were the most apt choice for a task in helping cradle their Clanmates in a buffer from the wind. Sunlitpaw tried their hardest to rationalize Sunstar's actions as such - just an act of leadership. Connecting with Clanmates. Sunstar wasn't her father - no, her father had disappeared with Sunstride. Her father had melted away before her during the revolution, leaked out with each drop of blood. The cat that held the limp body of Sootstar between his teeth was not the cat she used to weave between the legs of when they were little more than a cottonball kitten. The idea that this was their father trying to bridge across the gap Sunlitpaw had so carefully wedged between them - the thought made their chest ache so deeply they opted to push it out of their mind entirely, let it be a wordless buzz between her ears. A lingering hurt feeling, an unsolvable problem.

It hurt less than the idea of being a disappointment. A failure. The child of WindClan's Leader and medicine cat, little more than an overgrown sniffling kitten. Sunlitpaw loathed the idea. They had been named after him, named for someone so strong and she was just so - so -

Sunstar's voice catches their attention, ears rotating back as their head turns toward the newly crowned Leader. The sound of their own name from him makes their stomach churn, spring green eyes carefully avoiding meeting Sunstar's own as they lean over to look at his paw-work. "To keep the wind from blowing in," they repeat after him. They step back from the snow, quietly taking in their own workmanship and comparing it to their fathers'. Skilled compared to other apprentices, but very pale in comparison to Sunstar. "Sunstar," they call, the name burning as it passes their lips. Dad, it should be. Father, if they felt like being formal. But this cat... no, she wasn't this sun's shadow. "How long did it take you to get good at this?"
  • โ‚Š โ‹† * โŠน โ‚Š โ˜พ
    sunlitpaw

    โ€” they / she, moor-runner apprentice of windclan. mentored by foxglare
    โ€” a large yet timid chocolate tabby-tortoiseshell with spring green eyes
    โ€” sunstar x wolfsong, sibling to rivepaw, bearpaw, singedpaw, & featherpaw
    โ€” full length tags
    โ€” penned by izanami, contact on discord @nullmoons for plots or threads :)
 
เผ„เผ„ The atmosphere is peaceful, but Scorchstreak can taste the undercurrent of tension that lies between Sunstar and his kit. A dappled ear flicks as the apprentice calls their father by his nameโ€”it isnโ€™t as though they are estranged, like herself and Rumblerain, or overly formal, such as Bluefrost and Sootstar. The reasoning for it flies right over Scorchstreakโ€™s head, but still she hesitates as she makes her way over to join the pair in the snow. Theyโ€™ve excavated some kind of structure, building a curve into the entrance to block out the icy bite of the wind.

"I wish it was this easy to dig a tunnel," she muses, tipping her head to one side. The snow is pliable in a way that dirt is not, practically melting to slush under just the touch of warm paws. Then again, if tunnels were this easy to dig, they wouldnโ€™t have a hareโ€™s chance of being structurally sound. Standing up under the weight of the earth above, dirt truly is the best substance to dig their tunnels into. If only it werenโ€™t soโ€ฆ dirty. "I imagine it would take longer to train cats to dig tunnels through snow, though." It will already take nearly another year to train Pinkpaw fullyโ€”perhaps longer, if the young calico continues to cling to her dislike of the tunnels.