private BEEN DOWN EVER SINCE I CAME UP [ ✦ ] Smogmaw

[Halfsun]

Sharpshadow was not a good mentor. That much was quickly becoming clear to her. Days go past and still, the dark pelted feline refuses to reach her anything, refuses to even acknowledge her existence unless she forces it upon him. She has half a mind to just take matters into her own paws, to teach herself all the things that are vital to becoming a great warrior. But she knows she needs help, guidance, that she cannot do everything herself. So she seeks out the one cat she is certain can make it right.

Her father.

Smogmaw would make everything better. He would hear that her mentor was so awful and he would either decide to train her himself or reassign her to someone more worthy of teaching his young daughter. She’s certain of it. So certain, that when she approaches the blue tabby it is with such confidence that it almost catches her off guard. She keeps her chin raised, the perfect picture of pride as she takes a seat before him, fluffy tail curling delicately over her paws. The perfect picture of grace. "I want a new mentor" she says in way of greeting, the look on her face and the icy tone to her voice implying that this was anything but an order from a kit who is used to getting what she wanted, one who has grown accustomed to making demands and having them met.

// sorry this is so short ;-; mobile posting is pain. @smogmaw

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[smogstar]

Halfpaw's plight is not unique to her.

Only the stars know the amount of veins he'd popped in the throes of Sharpshadow's mentorship, which could be described - at best - as a saga fraught with setbacks and shortcomings. Right from the bitter get-go was her inefficacy laid plain. Contrary to what her name suggested, the wiry-furred apprentice brought a notably dull set of claws into the equation, and her efforts to pick up hunting techniques and whatnot floundered often and fiercely. While she ultimately embodied what he saw as an archetypal warrior, Smogmaw is not particularly flabbergasted to see past frustrations mirrored in his daughter. In truth, hearing her simple demand introduced a smile to his otherwise stern visage.

"Oh, do you now?" A benign huff plays on his lips before evaporating into the frigid air. Saffron eyes flicker in Halfpaw's direction, seeking the full brunt of her itty-bitty conviction. Such seasoned anger constrained by almost kit-ish features. Seeing the indignation rolling off his daughter, Smogmaw finds himself prompted to expound, "How about you humour your father with a reason, Halfpaw? Give me something to work with. You may just learn something valuable while you're at it."

His darkened tail-tip grazes his front paws, and powder sprays in a mild gust. This conversation does not strike him as an arbitrary exercise. Halfpaw must have dwelt on the matter extensively to dare broach the topic before him. He is the deputy as much as her father, and holds enough power to influence changes in warrior-apprentice pairings. There is merit behind listening, though, no matter how abstract Halfpaw's gripes may prove to be. ​

 

[Halfsun]

The way he speaks immediately sets her off, her tail twitching behind her back and her eyes narrowing at the first set of words uttered from her fathers mouth. She is ready for a dismissal though, is ready to fight using nothing but her tongue and her wits. It's always the same game with adults, they didn't take her seriously because she was young, because she is childish. But she feels like she is above most others when it came to experience. She had spent time in a different clan after all, she would use what she had learned there to her advantage, she would use everything she had ever learned in her thus short life to win. "Well if you must know father, she hasn't even started my training yet. Its been days and he refuses to even take me out of the camp" she wants to be free, to walk through the marshes, to look above her at the pines and see the birds flit in the branches above her. She dreams about it every night, moving throughout the territory unshackled to a mentor that didn't want her. That seemed to be the trend she thinks. So many cats wished she did not exist and yet here she was. They would have to learn to deal with it because she wasn't going anywhere, not anytime soon.

"You're the deputy, fix it. Give me a new mentor" a pleading infliction finds its way into her tone as she kneads the ground with white tipped feet, her mismatched blue eyes never once leaving the face of her father. She still does not fully know him, does not fully know what he thinks about her, about her siblings, but she does know that hes her father and the deputy and hes supposed to take care of these things for her right? What use was having a parent in a position such as his if he didn't?

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[smogstar]

There it is. A flicker of her mother, vibrant and alive. The unfiltered snootiness in her mewling, the pomposity woven so elegantly into her inapt demands. It does sadden him to know the uncanny symmetry shall forever elude Halfpaw's wee grasp, yet Smogmaw can take some solace in her spite, her egotism. For he can still catch fragments of his departed mate within his daughter's timbre. Honey-sweet, and equally as thorny. An intoxicating melody he'd fallen for seasons ago, and a tune that Halfpaw now hums to, even if she lacks the moons needed to understand the notes.

His tail flicks with bemusement, swiping a snowflake from the air mid-waltz. "I will talk to Sharpshadow," he promises, a whimsical ring to his vowels. Doubt finds no foothold in his acceptance of her accusations—yet, Smogmaw seeks the path paved in fewer stones. The simplest solution proves the likeliest. Good dialogue between him and his former apprentice ought to mend her misgivings.

Brows then dip in a mélange of resignation and concern. "You may think so now, but she isn't useless. I think he just needs a push in the proper direction." Supplemented by a firm scolding, lest a threat suffices better. "Y'know, when we were on the journey together, Sharpshadow became trapped underground with four other cats. For days on end, almost a half-moon, (something of an exaggeration) she led those cats to their safety; no food, no water, no daylight." From his throat rumbles a contented purr, low in register, yet reverberant all the same. His forehead lowers in attempt to bump affectionately against hers. "If he can do that, I'm more than certain he can provide the training you deserve."

It does disgruntle him somewhat, hearing his kit equate Sharpshadow's prowess to some neglectful imbecile's. All the same, Smogmaw is tickled pink by her bold assertions. They're rooted in truth, after all, and he won't argue such. "If he doesn't, I'll kick her out of the clan, and you can get a new mentor. How's that sound?"​