A NEW WILDFIRE \ downypaw

[FEATHERSPINE]

As the son of a medicine cat, perhaps Featherpaw might have been expected by some to pad down that star-dotted path... but from his deep set scowl, his claws and demeanour both bearing prickles and poison, his ice-gleam eyes, anyone could tell he was born to be a warrior. The daughter of WindClan's deputy- soon to be leader. And he would be a fierce warrior at his father's feet, gnashing teeth at anyone who dared threaten the moors, who might eclipse it with barbarity once more. A white-arrowed tail flicked, idly...

It was a good dream, for once. One that was not monsters in the dark, and hunting birds, and Sootstar ordering her hounds to tear her father to bits. No-one ever interrupted the nightmares, but- of course, they had to interrupt the good ones, didn't they? And this place was too crowded, too hot, too noisy...

It was Downypaw, prodding her- Featherpaw set sun-sharp eyes upon the other apprentice, an ice-chip of annoyance already flecking her gaze. "What?" His voice was a harsh, icy whisper.

\ @downypaw !! backwritten to when they were both in the med den B)​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[downyfur]

"Oh—I'm sorry." Downypaw blinks guileless blue eyes, as startled as Featherpaw was irritated. "I was just trying to see if you were awake...must've poked too hard," she adds in a purred whisper, injecting levity to alleviate the sting of his glare. A familiar hurt, but one nonetheless. Being in the same cohort of apprentices and having faced the same trials, one would think the prickly molly would've warmed up to some of those outside her litter by now.

Yet, it wasn't like Downypaw had talked to him all that much—at least, not as much as her sister seemed to. "Pinkpaw sticks to you like a burr," they murmur thoughtfully, jokingly. "I was just...I was wondering if you knew where she was right now." She twists slightly towards the entrance of their herb-scented prison, gaze taking a brief respite upon it before settling on sun-shard eyes again. Absentmindedly, a white-toed paw lifts to itch at the bandages crinkling beneath their eye. Just as quickly, they catch it and gently set it back down.​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

The bristling on Featherpaw's back settled. "It's fine," he sighed dismissively, resigned. No one had anything to apologise for, but he was wringing sorries out of people left and right. They had won- everyone should be happy, be warm and cheerful, and Featherpaw felt like there was something broken within her that she still met peers with hissed words and overt irritation, as if they had been the one to carve her up.

Pinkpaw sticks to you like a burr. Downypaw's tone was a humoured one, and Featherpaw tutted quietly in response, tucking his paws closer to his chest. "Training, I guess. How should I know?" Featherpaw stated, stiff and restless all at once. Pinkpaw was out there training, of course- and he was trapped here in a den that reminded him of his childhood. Happy memories, all things considered, but somewhat sickening all the same, especially when he tried to think of how he had spent it. "B-b-buh... b-bothering me seems to run in your family. She'll b-be here later, so you can talk to her then." Downypaw must be looking for that answer, simple and efficient- where is my sister, where is someone more fun to talk to. Featherpaw was no fun, especially not in here. He was miserable and waspish.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[downyfur]

Featherpaw's quills don't quite stick straight out of his back like they used to. Weighed down by sharp-smelling plaster and heaping pawfuls of cobwebs, the only thing they could do was stick out his sides like a flattened broomhead. Pale-tipped paws jerk softly back under her chest, held stiff where it should be rising and falling, like finding ice formed where water once was. Downypaw shrugs when she redirects a question to them, rhetorical, probably, but one they think they should answer unless they wanted Featherpaw to think it was okay to shut up now.

Their russet-furred denmate continues just as she's opening her mouth. Downypaw stuffs their retaliatory frown back down their throat, where it would rot along with the familiar, slimy feeling of being disliked. "I just thought you'd know, since she comes to you often," they quietly amend. Evening hues wander towards the entrance, as though the subject of their conversation would pop into existence there at her mention. "She told me you fought together in the battle."

Jealousy's head rises in the hollow of her chest, hopeful. Downypaw knows they should give it no reasons to become stronger, but for a moment it burns away the heart-deep exhaustion that'd plagued them immediately after the battle. "Does she fight well?" She tips her head, letting her uninjured cheek casually loll onto the backside of a paw as her gaze slides back to Featherpaw. That might've been a stupid question. Maybe Featherpaw would really snap at her now, saying something like "if she fought well, do you think I'd have this scar?"​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

"We did," Featherpaw murmured, voice somewhat blunted by resignation. Downypaw seemed intent on continuing, which told Featherpaw that the subject of Pinkpaw had been some sort of excuse to start tapping at his aching head like a woodpecker. Great. Because Pinkpaw had arbitrarily decided that she was worth bothering, now the family-floodgates had been opened.

Other than idle interest and boredom, Featherpaw was still profoundly baffled as to why Downypaw was even bothering. Why, why didn't she just ask Pinkpaw all of this? She would come by in a little while- she'd just said it. But- how little Downypaw didknow about Pinkpaw's training? She didn't even know if she was good? Did the two of them never bother discussing it?

Featherpaw supposed they discussed things like the shape of the clouds or what they had for breakfast. The sort of thing the chocolate molly herself ended up speaking to Pinkpaw about, whenever she came to prod at her. "She's g-guh... g-gutsy," Featherpaw shrugged. "B-buh... buh-but she lacks strategy. I hope Scorchstreak focuses on it more, from now on." Deep in the crevices of his words lay a blooming concern, a little flower that he wished would wither away and die, and yet- kept comping back every time he tried to stomp on it.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[downyfur]

Something tight in Downypaw's belly loosens ever so slightly at Featherpaw's response. Though blunt, it carried little of the knife's edge she half-expected him to swing at her with. Was it her, admittedly somewhat relentless, questioning that wore down her sharpness so? She would have to ask more of her to find out. The owl-eyed apprentice's first answer itself is nothing spectacular, only an agreement to what Pinkpaw had already blubbered to her about. It is the second that makes her brows lift silently in the dark.

Downypaw's mind chews on the brief notes Featherpaw has deigned to give them, eyes flitting away before returning to the conversation. Their sibling's fighting style is clearly borne from her personality, and thus was nothing new. It is the fact that Featherpaw noticed at all that makes their wheels spin. "You can't expect my sister to know strategy," she meows, letting a wry-ish smile infuse her voice. Another attempt at humor. "I guess Scorchstreak has her paws full with keeping her attention." Their description of their calico littermate is loving though at her expense; their gaze slides towards Featherpaw, wondering how he would take the mild slander.

"Does Bluepool focus a lot on strategy?" the seal point inquires, genuine curiosity brightening their tone. Would it be anything like the strategy Sootspot touted? Bluepool was Sootstar's kin as well, but as a sister, not a son. Maybe there was less pressure on her shoulders; maybe she wouldn't burden her apprentice with it. And maybe it was all gone now anyway, with Sootstar lying defeated and halfway to hell in her den.

ooc: you don't have to respond if you don't want to since i know it's late! one of feather's posts inspired me to try replying again <3​