camp AND THE COMMUNISTS HAVE THE MUSIC ✦ INTRO

[pricklepaw]

If not for the audience, Pricklepaw would not be doing this.

He'd noticed the poor caterpillar a day prior when he was overturning stones in camp—an act of subtle defiance as much as it was an act of boredom. He didn't have eyes on him then, so he had noted the caterpillar with the quiet interest of someone who saw a tool for a future day. It was one of the black ones, fluffy in every direction and ruddy on the band circling its center. It must have crawled beneath a stone to escape the cold—hadn't anyone told it that it was just a stupid little bug, and that there wasn't a place in the world that the cold couldn't find it?

But, that was the day prior, and this was today.

Today, the caterpillar is still where Pricklepaw had abandoned it: a meagre bit of fluff, easily mistaken for a dried out hairball and just as readily ignored. He'd grinned to see it and—with an unsubtle flick of his head left-right—his grin grew toothy. Today he has an audience; they just aren't yet aware of their nature. He steps flouncy, ridiculous in his crossed eyes, and in the way his face looks less like it is attached to his head, and instead looks as though it is emerging from a sleeve made out of fur.

"Oh, horror!" Pricklepaw gasps as he comes across it, because it's funny to be loud—he's funny, "This little bug succumbed to the cold!" He falls then, as if struck on the head. Lands prone next to the bug, close enough that it blurs into two shapes in front of his eyes, "Little bug—why hadn't you chosen elsewhere as your Leafbare-home?"​

RIVERCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ BLUE LYNX POINT ✦ 4 MOONS✦ TAGS​

 

[Nettlepaw-]

NETTLEPAW ♂
RIVERCLAN
APPRENTICE
FOUR MOONS
BLIND IN BOTH EYES
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
APPRENTICED TO PIKESPLASH
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH​

---

Frost nips at his nose and whiskers shiver at the touch of a cold wind. Nettlepaw is in a foul mood, but he has every right to be. Pikesplash was his mentor, of all the cats in the clan, that fish-headed fool of a tom had been chosen to teach the young, hard-headed boy. Tensions had come to a head recently, and now the troubled youth finds that his temper flares more often than it had all moon. At least he had finally begun making progress in his training, having caught a robin all on his own just a week prior. Today, however, he's had no such luck. He trails his hunting patrol back into camp with a tired sigh.

Before Nettlepaw has a chance to settle, the voice of his brother bites into his ears, like claws dragging against stone. I'm too tired for this, Nettlepaw decides irritably, tail lashing behind him. He was too tired for... whatever his brother was doing, going on about some dying bug in the cold.

Crouching, Nettlepaw creeps closer, hoping that Pricklepaw is too preoccupied to notice. Paws are silent with every step across frigid earth, eyes clouded and blind, but intense in their stare all the same. The target had been acquired, and at some point, Nettlepaw's annoyance had melted away into daring mischief. Haunches shake back and forth for a moment, the boy steady in his hunting crouch as he tries to determine the distance between himself and his brother. Thankfully, Pricklepaw is loud enough that determining the distance of his leap is practically child's play (which is exactly what this is, truthfully).

Nettlepaw pushes off the frozen ground and aims to pounce upon his brother.

"Pricklepaw. Shut up." The boy demands, though his words lack a bite. He is being playful now. "Who cares about some dumb bug? Look at my ear." The boy flicks his left ear, tufted fur kissed by the breeze. A freshly torn membrane shines with cobwebs and herbal dressing, as Nettlepaw shows off his first scar. A notched ear, from the owl attack just a few days prior. He'd been so busy with training that Nettlepaw had hardly been able to brag about it to his siblings. "I fought an owl. What are you fighting? Bugs?" The apprentice goads with a smug expression.
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[valesight ➶]

⸙͎｡˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎｡˚⋆

There isn't much to do when you cannot hunt... fear the water (even if it is frozen)... there are no battles to win-- he is certain this is more saddening to Redpath than anything-- so mostly he just does chores. Little ways he can contribute, they aren't much. You can only clean out bedding so often, can only remove so many fleas and ticks from elders...

Valepaw sits in quiet contemplation, wondering when Rookfang will come back to camp so he can trail him around again like a shadow. Pricklepaw's shrill voice rings in an ear-shattering tone that ruins what concentration he has. And Nettlepaw, he watches creeping steadily towards his obnoxiously loud brother...

If it weren't for the harsh choice of words, the chimera would've thought nothing of the little spat. However... "Be kind," he hisses softly. There are gentler ways to complain of volume... Peering towards the situation with the bug, the little tom cannot help but feel bad for it, as Pricklepaw did. The cold did not spare anyone...​

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[pricklepaw]

Pricklepaw is already sprawled on the ground—there is very little he could have done to avoid the pounce, even if he had been aware of its approach. He rolls to his back instead, an awkward shuffle, and bats at Nettlepaw’s face with the gentleness of someone who knows the routine. This isn’t a real fight—not yet—and Nettlepaw’s caustic words are familiar enough that Pricklepaw doesn’t feel the need to escalate.

“I’d rather not look at something so ugly.” The ear in question isn’t spared from Pricklepaw’s wraith. He hits it with force enough to fold it without disturbing the dressings. It really is cool—Pricklepaw will need to ask about it, later.

Now, Pricklepaw makes a half-hearted attempt at standing, and then once again collapses to the ground. It is a well practiced motion.

“Blood! Death!” He scrambles at the ground in front of him, and coughs weakly. Somehow, this too is loud, “Betrayal…!”

Soft sand greets his face as he finally slumps, completely boneless. His tongue lolls, and Pricklepaw very carefully doesn’t scrunch his nose when he tastes where so many others have walked. Corpses don’t make faces. They also don’t breathe—Pricklepaw supposes some concessions need to be made. Surely, if not for the cold, there would have been at least a dozen flies buzzing around him by now.

Just like the caterpillar, He thinks, and remembers his mission.

“Now let me up, you brute,” Useless words—Pricklepaw slips Nettlepaw with the grace of someone who has done this countless times. He shakes himself off like a dog, and visibly tests the taste on his tongue. Not good, not good at all, but his focus is already elsewhere, “Before you so rudely interrupted, the more civilized among us—” He gestures between himself and Valepaw, “—were planning a rather beautiful vigil for our fallen fellow. It’s going to be tragic.”

He rounds on Valepaw. Even as his eyes flick over the other apprentice, they never lose their inward tilt, “Isn’t that right, friend?”​

RIVERCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ BLUE LYNX POINT ✦ 4 MOONS✦ TAGS​

 

[Nettlepaw-]

NETTLEPAW ♂
RIVERCLAN
APPRENTICE
FOUR MOONS
BLIND IN BOTH EYES
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
APPRENTICED TO PIKESPLASH
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH​

---

He nips at the paws that batter his face, gentle enough not to hurt. This wasn't a real fight, after all. The two brothers were just being, well... brothers. Teasing, probing, and wrestling one another. It was not unusual between the pair. Nettlepaw sticks out his tongue at his brother's words, and then ducks as a lone fore-paw strikes his ear. It hurts, the wound still raw, but Nettlepaw isn't about to show it.

"It surely can't be uglier than you." The tabby tom snorts. Blind eyes flicker briefly toward Valepaw, having heard the hiss that seeps from his tongue. Nettlepaw glowers toward the other apprentice, "Mind your own business, Valepaw." He snaps, focus returning to his brother almost instantly, as if to prove Valepaw's presence was insignificant. Just then, the dramatic display of his brother explodes within the tom's ears. He clings to his perch as Pricklepaw collapses, yowling of betrayal. Nettlepaw bats him over the head for good measure, though not hard enough to cause any harm.

"You're less annoying as a corpse." The boy notes with amusement. Moments later and Pricklepaw rises again, this time shaking Nettlepaw off with ease. The mink tom rolls onto his back in the cold soil, before returning to his paws. He's surprised to hear Pricklepaw trying to drag Valepaw into the display. He's just doing it to annoy me, Nettlepaw thinks, and he sticks out his tongue at his brother in reply.

"A vigil for a bug? You get weirder by the day." The boy responds with a flick of his feathery tail. A devious expression wraps the youth's maw then, and he turns those sharp, blinded eyes toward Valepaw again.

"Hey Valepaw, since you're here for the vigil, I'm guessing you already prepared your eulogy, right? So let's hear it! Start us off on this little... bug funeral." Words are icy, demanding, mischievous. Pricklepaw had decided to drag Valepaw into the drama, so Nettlepaw was going to take advantage of it to teach the other apprentice a lesson. If you had minded your own business, you wouldn't be in this mess! The boy's eyes are narrowed, mocking and expectant, piercing the cold air toward Valepaw as he waits.
​

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[valesight ➶]

⸙͎｡˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎｡˚⋆

The fur along his spine raises in indignation as Nettlepaw snaps back at him like he's some sort of annoying insect to be swatted away. It was his business to stop a seething, wretched little menace from antagonizing every single apprentice in the entire clan. Just because you're mad you can't see doesn't mean the rest of us deserve it, was a seething reply he barely restrained, opting not to start an all-out war when Pricklepaw had not asked for backup.

He is grateful that the other blue-dipped boy offers him some sort of out from the tension, suggesting he is a member of the congregation of the grieving. True enough, he supposed, he did not feel joy that this little bug had lost its life to the cold of winter. "Yes... a vigil," he agrees softly, blinking a thank you towards the one who identified him as 'friend.'

But the sharp counterpart of a brother is keen to get under his skin... and Valepaw does not shy from the challenge. "Fine," he replies shortly... already regretting the decision to be stubborn, as he was not very practiced in long-winded speeches nor... talking in general for any extended amount of time. His throat is dry quickly and he licks his lips in a nervous manner.

"This bug... who we gather to send off to... the bug-terlife..." His green-gold gaze flicks to Pricklepaw for any sign of encouragement, hoping his weak attempt at an improvised joke is appreciated, "Was.. a hero.. among bug-dom. Savior of... the small... and the weak... insectlings. He acted with... utmost honor! And... dignity... frozen by an evil witch... to spend his days waiting... for the sun. May he... stay cool... and comfortable... wherever his soul remains."

Not bad... for someone who hardly used more than four words at a time. Except for all the long pauses to think.​

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