Blighted By Imperfect Form | Intro

[Mosspool]

One, Two.

One, Two.

First Windclan, then Thunderclan. That was the order in which the other clans had turned against her home. Part of her wondered if they would soon face a third clan. Shadowclan was were friends with Windclan after all, weren't they? It seemed that all the world was assembled against Riverclan.

Now her training was more important than ever. One day, it would be her fighting those invaders.

Today she had been taught the tail splash. She had copied how the move had been shown to her, trying to do it exactly as she had seen it, until her mentor told her to stop. According to her mentor, she had the move down well enough, that they should move on to other things. That had bothered her, and for a moment her desire for perfection and her respect for her mentor had pulled her apart. Eventually though, she had listened. At least for the moment. Her body had followed along with the instructions given to her, but her mind had remained behind. Replaying what she had been shown over and over in her head.

Now, on her own time, she practiced. Stood in the center of camp, she mimed the motions in the air. One, splash water into your opponent's eyes with your tail. Two, lunge for them while their blinded. Still, she was slower than she had been shown. Again.

One, Two.

One, Two.​

 

[ashpaw!]

White-capped red tabby paws approach, straining and trying to seem like they don't — since the raid, she feels a little like she's dragging her body around, and her head's still all fuzzy from getting bashed against a rock. She's hardly the worst of Beesong's patients, though, nothing that'll threaten her life, nothing that bleeds or keeps her bedbound. Lights can be painfully bright and she needs to rest extra and training is an absolute no for a few days yet, but that's really all.

And hanging around all day is boring, so she's happy for the company; finding Mosspaw in the center of camp, Ashpaw draws closer, aiming to brush her tail along the girl's back without interrupting her work.

She loves her little siblings' quirks, has loved to watch their individualities flourish— Antlerpaw is so adventurous, Hazepaw so wide-eyed wondering, and Mosspaw so studious, so rigidly oriented. "That looks great," she murmurs, encouragement sparkling in her green eyes. "Better than most apprentices your age, I bet. You're a real hard worker." She loves Mosspaw's pride — tries to help cultivate it wherever she can — kids should love themselves, should get to be proud. This kid should get to be proud.

She settles down nearby to groom, licking at scratched-up fur. She's glad, selfishly glad that none of Willowroot's kittens were in the battle. Because — kittens, she still thinks of them as kittens. She can't help it. They're just so baby.

"What else have you been up to today," she asks, faux-casual but she bites her lip with worry, anticipating the answer, "besides training?" She smiles, resting her head on her paws and watching. "Got up to anything fun?"

She remembers being a kitten, remembers the hours she'd spend staring at AntClan or the "raids" she'd planned on Beesong's den. This darling perfectionist, when did Mosspaw last do something fun — just for the fun of it?
​

—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• ooc text goes here
  
  
• - 9 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - crushing hard on iciclepaw
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - got real fucked up as a kid so if she seems like she was fucked up as a kid, that's why
  - "speech"
• - KICKED FOX ASS
  - she is on a JOURNEY
  

​

 

[CLAYFUR]

The time has passed in a blur, everything a haze of smoke in a mind that simply doesn’t care what happens anymore. Where’s ShadowClan, at this point, to come sweeping in and finish what WindClan started, what ThunderClan felt they needed to follow up on? The largest of his wounds aches, but it’s laid across a chest so empty that he doesn’t… feel it. Feels it without feeling it, even.

Clay has always considered himself a kind man, of bright smiles and a brighter attitude. But that’s… surely that’s gone now, isn’t it? He hasn’t felt like himself since he saw the carnage that a nameless, faceless WindClanner made of his love. Hasn’t felt friendly since he’d taken the life of the ThunderClan leader—and it had still changed nothing, sinking his fangs into her throat. It hangs over him still; a raven upon his shoulder, a reminder. It’s what Cicadastar had been saying, what Clayfur himself hadn’t been hollow enough to believe. ThunderClan can’t be trusted.

He wanders without really seeing, only stirred from his thoughts when he catches sight of a pair of apprentices. Willow’s kits, even if one of them is not hers in blood. Ashpaw, kind as ever, asks what Mosspaw has done besides training. He also hopes that the apprentice has been resting, so he trudges over to the two, expression carefully blank. "You have good form," he says to the dark-furred child. "But… yeah, have you done anything besides training today?" With so many warriors out of commission for the time being, it’s up to the clan’s uninjured apprentices to pick up some of the slack. He just hoped that none of them are overworking themselves.
​

[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[Mosspool]

Mosspaw blinked as she felt her sister's tail along her back. Glancing over, she gave a nod in return, without stopping her practice. A stiffer and colder greeting than the physical affection she had just received, but one meant in the same spirit. The compliments Ashpaw heaped upon her planted a seed of satisfaction in her. It was verification, to her, that she was doing the right thing.

Clayfur's compliment's further grew that feeling. Especially given who it was that gave it. The clan deputy complimenting her form meant the world to her. She had to resist the urge to physically puff up with pride.

Both of their compliments were made more valuable to her by who it was that gave them. Both of them had already seen battle, in her mind they were heroes already. If anyone could tell if she was on the right track, it would be them.

"Thank you both. I think that I am going to get the hang of this soon." Mosspaw replied pleasantly, focusing her gaze back forward onto her practice. She believed it too. The motions were starting to become more natural, and soon she'd be doing it to her satisfaction. There were, of course, a myriad other moves and details that were still beyond her talents. Things that she did not even yet know that she did not know. That did not bother her though. That would all come in time.

For now, the idea that she might master this one move gave her immense satisfaction.

It took her a moment to recognize that a question had been posed to her. Posed to her twice, in fact. She hummed as she tried to think what else she had done today. It was hard to think about anything else at the moment, all the rest of the world felt like a distraction when her mind got stuck on a single subject like this.

"I'm having fun learning this." Mosspaw eventually offered with a shrug.​

 

[ashpaw!]

Ashpaw grins when the young girl glows beneath the praise. Good! She settles into grooming herself, pleased to watch despite how the sun makes her head ache.

Mosspaw is so ... enrapt. So focused that it takes her a second to break away from the exercise, to stop and think, and Ashpaw does believe her when she says she's having fun, just like this. Alright then, she thinks, with a shrug of her own. In response she'll abandon her grooming, rising back onto four paws and striding closer, doing her best not to stumble. (This headache is a bummer — she hopes that Beesong's wrong and it goes away faster than two weeks.)

"Practice on me," she suggests with a grin. "You gotta be fast, right? So... here. Do the splash move, and I'll close my eyes and pretend to be a dumb ThunderClanner who can't handle water in their face — "

And a little bitterness creeps into her voice, there, residue of anger that festers over their stolen land, their stolen clanmate. It's subtle but it's there, hard to hide with cheer.

" — and then you see if you can tackle me with my eyes closed, before I get re-oriented. How's that sound?"
​

—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• feel free to powerplay mosspaw failing or succeeding whichever u like!
  
  or if you want to roll, probs like 4/20 or higher she succeeds, because ashpaw is concussion
  
  
• - 9 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - crushing hard on iciclepaw
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - got real fucked up as a kid so if she seems like she was fucked up as a kid, that's why
  - "speech"
• - KICKED FOX ASS
  - she is on a JOURNEY
  

​

 

[► Sneezefur.]

IF YOU ONLY LISTEN WITH YOUR EARS I CAN'T GET IN
sneezefur | 27 months | demi-boy | he/him | physically medium | mentally medium | attack in bold #50c878

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as a child, Sneezefur had never received anything like formal training. Growing up as a loner alongside his sister he'd learned how to survive and only that. The battlescars that litter his frame have been well earned - firsthand experience the best teacher one could have. But... he likes that these children do not have to suffer the same fate as him. He'd been hesitant to join riverclan - simply following his family rather than out of any such loyalty to the group itself, but the group had eventually turned into some semblance of a home for him - perhaps even a family.

'Her form seems good,' he thinks idly. Seafoam gaze watches closely as Mosspaw practices - body moving smoothly and repetitively, again and again and again. One quiet pawsteps, the skeletal warrior moves forwards to watch closer - blinking slowly in greeting as they settle down in their new seat. Ashpaws offer is spoken before he can give his own and so he is content to simply observe - perhaps give a gestured pointed if he feels the need. Kinked tail swishes slowly and he simply waits - observing patiently.
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