- Aug 1, 2022
- 214
- 46
- 28
// cw for fear of violence
A S H P A W.
She's sitting at the edge of the medicine den, tucked into a corner of the entryway like she always is these days. This way, she can watch her clanmates without having to leave the safety of Beesong's den, and sometimes they stop to talk to her or give her nose-kisses.
She's playing with Rock, her ant best friend. Right now it looks like he's having a meeting with the rest of AntClan on top of a scrap of fresh-kill. (Except the ones who are still too young to swim, of course.) The little bugs scramble around the whisker-thin scrap of food, probably talking about very important ant matters. Tragically, even Ashpaw's status of ant best friend doesn't let her in on ant language. She'll just have to guess what their meeting is about. Maybe they're naming ant-prentices.
Or exiling awful mean grown-up ants for hurting baby ants.
Ashpaw hopes it's that.
She's gotten better in the last couple days. Her head hurts less, and her bruises are lots better. She can mostly walk again. Maybe that means she'll leave the medicine den soon... she'll miss Beesong and Pumpkinpaw if she does.
A shadow falls over her.
Ashpaw startles, breath stuttering to a halt, and jerks her head up-- black fur and orange eyes, no, no please not again she was really good today. Orange tabby ears flatten to her skull, and a tiny frightened whine slips out.
Then the cat speaks-- harsh and gravelly-- safe, not Spiderfall, she realizes, relaxing just a fraction.
"H-hi Smokethroat," she stutters out, heart still rabbit-quick in her chest. Safe, she tells herself. Smokethroat is nice. Not like him.
She's playing with Rock, her ant best friend. Right now it looks like he's having a meeting with the rest of AntClan on top of a scrap of fresh-kill. (Except the ones who are still too young to swim, of course.) The little bugs scramble around the whisker-thin scrap of food, probably talking about very important ant matters. Tragically, even Ashpaw's status of ant best friend doesn't let her in on ant language. She'll just have to guess what their meeting is about. Maybe they're naming ant-prentices.
Or exiling awful mean grown-up ants for hurting baby ants.
Ashpaw hopes it's that.
She's gotten better in the last couple days. Her head hurts less, and her bruises are lots better. She can mostly walk again. Maybe that means she'll leave the medicine den soon... she'll miss Beesong and Pumpkinpaw if she does.
A shadow falls over her.
Ashpaw startles, breath stuttering to a halt, and jerks her head up-- black fur and orange eyes, no, no please not again she was really good today. Orange tabby ears flatten to her skull, and a tiny frightened whine slips out.
Then the cat speaks-- harsh and gravelly-- safe, not Spiderfall, she realizes, relaxing just a fraction.
"H-hi Smokethroat," she stutters out, heart still rabbit-quick in her chest. Safe, she tells herself. Smokethroat is nice. Not like him.
—— " i found gold in the wreckage "
-
@Smokethroat
-
- 4 month old orange tabby with green eyes
- apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
- happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
- very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
- "speech" -
- started her apprentice training
- attacked by a twoleg as part of riverclan's clanwide plot & escaped into the river
- returned home by thunderclanners