camp A REACTION TO YOU | return

[FLINTWISH]

He doesn't want to be back here. Shame weighs heavy, pushes his head down beneath his prowling shoulders, burns across each region of his granite-hued pelt. He knows it had been stupid and kitlike to run away, to hide in the territory alone, but what would ShadowClan have him do otherwise? They tarred and feathered his father, chased him out in front of Flintpaw's eyes; they disrespected his mother despite all she does for them, told her that they'd always known her mate was a killer and she was stupid not to see it; they looked at Flintpaw and they saw only Granitepelt. He is afraid to be similar to the older tom. He is afraid of the understanding he'd had for Granitepelt's bloodsick ramblings, he is afraid that ShadowClan will see his disappearance only as cowardice or sympathy for the damned. But at least he's back now — he's not like Ghostpaw, trailing after his father in vain.

He'll stay in ShadowClan for now. Maybe there is a veil of safety in being his mother's son; surely they would not oust their own medicine cat? Though, he supposes they have ousted her kin now, so maybe he is still not safe from such treatment. Flintpaw's dual-toned eyes glint with feral terror as he steps through the bracken. He might have walked into it entirely were it not for his escort; and still Flintpaw cannot understand why Ashenpaw should look at him with anything close to kindness, but he has stopped trying to spurn it by now. Really, he should stop searching for reasons to distrust his clanmates — apparently they'd organized a search party and everything, so maybe they do care — but Flintpaw is shaken out of his skin about it all. There is no inch of his body that the fear cannot reach.

Still, despite the spikes of fur on his shoulders and his spine, Flintpaw enters camp and makes little attempt to hide. He'd flee to the medicine den if he could stand the smell. Instead he stands, stock-still and silent alongside Ashenpaw, hoping that the other apprentice's loud mouth could ease his re-entry.

/ @ASHENPAW but no need to wait as long as it is noted that ashen is the one to bring him back to camp!
also this is pretty late now, but icly takes place the same evening as this thread :'- )

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[ASHENFALL]

˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 The bite of frost upon their whiskers is what eventually brought the two of them to return to camp. There was only so much sulking one could do before it got too chilly out on the swamp to think about anything besides a warm nest, even if Flintpaw was wrapped up in apparent dread at the prospect of entering these bramble walls. Ashenpaw does not comment on the petrified look still plastered upon her face, he could not (or would not) wade too deep into the slush-pool of fear and feelings that Flintpaw was lost beneath, and so he did his part by electing not to say anything snarky or whatever to make things any worse. He was practically saintly in his tongue-biting abilities, yes, please hold any outward expressions of awe.

Flintpaw was wise enough to anticipate that Ashenpaw's loud mouth was not going to be tempered for much longer than it had to be, and sauntered through the brambles with words at the ready.

"Look who's back just in time for dinner... Me! Oh, and Flintpaw too, I guess..." he swooshed a fluffy tail carelessly toward the apprentice-of-the-hour in question, not looking back to see if Flintpaw was successfully met with a face full of fur but hoping it would snap her into reality enough to get the freaked-out look off their face. He would not linger by the un-runaway's side for long, opting to skulk toward the freshkill pile to pretend to look for something to eat.

"Someone got lost trying to walk to the end of his whiskers... Turns out they're attached to your face. You learn something new every day, huh?" Ashenpaw blithely provided a bullshit explanation to any who were there to greet them, keeping his eyes fixed on the sad-looking snipe sprawled limply upon the floor as if captivated by its unappetizingness. He wasn't about to air out any of the embarrassing details of the reality of the apprentice's absence—come on, he wasn't a literal monster—and left their dreary bit of truth to remain answered or unanswered by Flintpaw himself.

YOU'LL ASK, 'WHAT CAN I DO?' ˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw
  — ftm transmasc. he/him. 9mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
  — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
  — all ic opinions!
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — icon by nya, fullbody by tropics, sticker by saturnid
  — penned by eezy
  

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

ShadowClan hadn't really given Flintpaw many reasons to come back.

She's here, anyways, nearly - eclipsed by Ashenpaw, if not for the face she shared with a murderer. Ashenpaw puts some of that attention on himself. Sharpshadow wonders if he meant to for Flintpaw's sake, or if that was simply what he did. They'd been gone long enough for patrols to be organized in their honor... but the night was still the same. Maybe they'd be scolded. Sharpshadow wouldn't be the one to do it.

Ashenpaw's excuse hardly is one. Something - something... I'm not telling you, Whatever. He didn't plan on asking, anyways.

Sharpshadow had almost ran away once. and so had her and Ashenpaw's mentor, both. His father. Wanting to run away didn't make you less of ShadowClanner, so long as you never went through with it.

He feels like he gets it. But how pretentious of a thought was that? So he figures that he doesn't, really. Sharpshadow's gaze slips past the dramatic cover - up that is Ashenpaw to look at Flintpaw and Flintpaw alone. He shouldn't want to pry. Eyes narrow to the pair, but he wouldn't pry. He wouldn't. " I'm glad you found them. " said in even - tones. He waits for the rest of the clan to come find them.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw Mentoring Halfpaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 18 moons old as of 12.19.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart knows the reasons her kits would have to leave, knows that Flintpaw had the best reason of them all. She had always looked so much like her father, it is why she had been named in the manner she had. Flint. After Granite's father who also bore a resemblance to them. It is almost funny, how things come back around like that isn't it? What isn't funny is the way she has lost two of her kits now. When the search parties go out, when they come back with empty paws, she is convinced he is gone. Gone like Ghostpaw, either to join their sire in exile or to just live out the rest of their days clanless because that would be the better option as opposed to living here. And the worst part is she gets it. There is only so much she can love them, only so much she can say or do. She was not a fierce warrior who could protect them from the sting of claws or the bite of a tongue but with the latter she could at least try.

It had been a hard day of searching towards the border they shared with ThunderClan, and the parties paws had turned up empty. They would search again tomorrow, but Starlingheart knows that with every passing day the scent would be harder and harder to track, even more difficult if Flintpaw did not wish to be found. She sits in camp, glassed over eyes staring at her paws as the last of the day's light disappears behind the horizon.

Suddenly, there is a commotion at the entrance to the thorn barrier that drags her forlorn gaze upward. Ashenpaw is who her attention first goes to but then she sees him, the gray and white apprentice by his side and she could cry out in her relief. She scrambles to her paws instantly, nearly tripping over herself in her desperate attempt to run to him, to fold him into her embrace. She doesn't care if she is embarrassing him, her tongue rasps, covering his fur in quick, relieved licks. "Im so- I'm so glad y-you're back" she stammers out through the tears that flow freely down her face. She had cried so much recently but this time it was different. This time, her tears were of relief, were of joy.

​

 

[Garlicheart]

Garlicpaw hadn't been assigned to any search parties, so she was left to her own devices. Normally, most would find her flipping over rocks and marveling at the bugs and other creatures underneath or digging up worms or playing with mud. Not this time, though. With everything that had happened, she found herself unable to focus on her favorite activities. It was a lot. The clan seemed like it nearly broke, and she didn't know what to do or how to feel.

But when Ghostpaw went missing, and then Flintpaw, she felt her heart began to hurt. Did they really think nobody wanted them here anymore? Did they think they were as hated as Granitepelt? Is that why they left? Garlicpaw didn't know Ghostpaw too well, but Flintpaw was different. While she didn't know him well either, she felt she needed to let him know that she doesn't hate him. She doesnt hate Starlingheart or his siblings for anything. When he went missing, she felt a sinking feeling in her heart that she wouldn't be able to tell her how she felt. She paced back and forth around camp the entire time the search parties were gone.

When Ashenpaw returned with Flintpaw, she felt relieved. She bounced over to them to welcome them back but made sure not to crowd Starlingheart as she embraced her child.

"F-flintpaw.... I'm glad you're home." She said. "I know everything is-" She pauses, trying to find the right word. "It's...um..... It's hard right now." She finishes. Good enough. "But... I don't blame you for anything. Nothing that happened was your fault." She says, looking at him with big, watery eyes. "S-so don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?"

She wants to let her tears fall, but she manages to keep them in by some miracle. Everything was terrible right now...But she always believed a little kindness goes a long way.​

 

[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
If he was truly honest with himself, he couldn't say he had a fondness for many of Starlingheart's kits - he had always viewed them as mildly annoying at best and aggravating at worst but that was less an indication of their behavior and more a sign to himself that he had no interest in ever having his own one day. He didn't like children, his mentor had brought into place a law dictating that medicine cat's were to never have offspring so they could dedicate themselves to their clan and all he could think about it was a passive 'alright'. He had never planned to, he had figured it was a given his life was for ShadowClan now even if ShadowClan did not deserve it as much as he wished they did.
Flintpaw, however, of the kits was one he remembered with a touch of fondness and the shimmer of a crushed beetle shell. He remembered how sickly she had been, how he had fretted over them withering away in a nest in the medicine cat den; taking up space but rather complacent. It had been one of the factors that sent him onto the journey, his mentor's harried and frazzled mental state not withstanding. Of all cats, Flintpaw had every right to abandon them - Magpiepaw had felt similarly in a way: had considered wandering to ThunderClan and begging them to allow him entry into the brief warmth he had felt in his short time passing through. He thinks of Hailstorm, stalwart and kind. He thinks of Stormywing, loud but friendly.
ShadowClan does not have much in the way of such personalities but there are a few who stand out and it is enough for now to keep him grounded. He worries though of what he might decide should anything befall his mentor, the one thing tying him here so tightly that not even his respect for Chilledstar or Frostbite could otherwise contain him.

Magpiepaw's voice is light and eerily calm in comparison to Starlingheart's delighted splinter of a sentence, "Welcome home, Flintpaw."

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  —⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
  
  

​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Her paws, and chest, ached. And despite the differences she may have with Starlingheart at this instant, her heart went out to the medicine cat. Glowing orange eyes closed after she stalked back into camp. Mud-dipped her paws were, and freezing at that, but it was well worth the heart ache. She'd search a hundred times more before she rested if it meant she found her apprentice.

A soft breath left her. This was partially her fault, she reflected. Scalejaw knew that despite anything that happened, she was part of the reason Flintpaw did not want to stay. The clan could possibly view him as nothing but an extension of her dad, but Scalejaw stepped into training Flintpaw harder then Granitepelt had. In Scalejaw's opinion, anyways. They were supposed to have a deep level of trust. Apprentice and mentor- one taught, the other absorbed knowledge. They relied on each other for moons.

Flintpaw had just up and left.

Mind you, Scalejaw had been ready to sink her fangs into her father's throat, but that was beside the point. No, actually, it wasn't. Thoughts churned and rotated in her mind, caused her chest to squeeze tight, before a cough left her. A scent tickled her nose, and eyes snapping open, head turning from where she had stopped near Starlingheart to stare at the mouth of the exit of camp. She is slower to approach the figure in the entrance next to Ashenpaw then Flintpaw's mother, but she does draw closer none-the-less.

There were no words to completely mend this. Scalejaw remained eerily quiet for a long moment, an abated breath drawn finally. "... Welcome home, Flintpaw." She begins quietly, slowly sitting down. There was no reason for lecture right now, her realization causing her next sentence to go unspoken. "I'm glad you found your way back." Then her eyes turned towards Ashenpaw, and her head dipped quietly. "You did what our search parties could not. Exceptional." Her compliment was not to be taken lightly- Scalejaw did indeed mean that.

Scalejaw looked back to Flintpaw, and fell silent. This was time for family, right? She lowered her gaze, waiting patiently. Nothing she could say would mend a bridge that wasn't even there to begin with, would it?

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​