S
SHRIKEPAW
Guest
i . information : shrikepaw had not been apprenticed long. it was still an adjustment, getting used to sleeping outside the bristling gorse bush, no longer listening to his sister snore lightly against him. he didn't like the feeling of open sky. he'd found that out shortly after being booted from his heather - lined nest and onto the bare moor. as if. that's why, as the days passed, shrike had found himself gravitating towards one of the small, abandoned hare burrows in the sweeping corner of windclan's camp. it was roomy − at least enough for him, which wasn't saying much. either way, he'd eventually made a little home for himself in one of the nests used by most for simply taking cover in a storm. a little moss nest and enough space for his trinkets, hidden neatly behind a thistle of gorse not dissimilar to the one protecting their queens and kits.
its a cool night. shrike was just settling in, curling his humorously little figure tight into his nest when he heard it . . a noise at the entrance to his den.
upon scrabbling from his hidey hole, he would find that . . it was bumble. bumblepaw was okay, shrikepaw guessed. he'd had been hurt recently and, though shrike wasn't entirely sure why, the older apprentice had asked to stay that night in his burrow after leaving honeytwist's den. sharing. his mother had snipped at him once about sharing, and frankly, the blue smoke saw no immediate reason to refuse. he simply stares at the other tom, olive eyes blank − before nodding once, tossing his head over his shoulder to indicate that the still - recovering feline should come along, and come quick, " fine. " the boy speaks, finally, his voice monotonous as ever. a fluffy tail flicks repetitively behind him, a back-and-forth metronome of blue - white, " don't touch my bones, they're mine and i collected them myself. and don't move my stones. " he's jabbing a paw out, pointing towards the too - neat line of unimportant - looking pebbles resting against the far wall. said bones are a series of bleaches, slightly splintering prey bones he seemed to have scavenged from leftovers.
it's quiet when they finally do lie down to sleep. the stars brim high overhead, twinkling in absent alabaster pulses against the blighted sky. shrikepaw watches the drifting clouds overhead, sees them cast heavy in front of the porcelain moon, plummeting them into darkness for nothing more than a couple of fleeting seconds. he's nearing rest when, suddenly, the other darts up with a SHOUT.
shrikepaw bolts upward, on his paws in the blink of an eye, little figure puffed to add what height his long, bristling fur manages before spotting their attacker. a spider. big and leggy, fuzzy and brown. he can see it just where the moon peers into the burrow, the backlit glow casting a long, creepy shadow towards bumblepaw. it's skittering towards where he had placed his makeshift nest, cornering the other feline further with each passing second. in a burst of pale blue, the youth had leaped, cupping the insect between two tiny alabaster paws, gawking at the feeling of its little limbs thrashing under his pads. gross, but interesting. he wondered if he could keep it . . " it's wiggly, but its not biting. that's a good sign. " the boy stated, matter - of - factly, " that means it's friendly. " kind of, right? shrikepaw certainly thought so, " wanna see? "
its a cool night. shrike was just settling in, curling his humorously little figure tight into his nest when he heard it . . a noise at the entrance to his den.
upon scrabbling from his hidey hole, he would find that . . it was bumble. bumblepaw was okay, shrikepaw guessed. he'd had been hurt recently and, though shrike wasn't entirely sure why, the older apprentice had asked to stay that night in his burrow after leaving honeytwist's den. sharing. his mother had snipped at him once about sharing, and frankly, the blue smoke saw no immediate reason to refuse. he simply stares at the other tom, olive eyes blank − before nodding once, tossing his head over his shoulder to indicate that the still - recovering feline should come along, and come quick, " fine. " the boy speaks, finally, his voice monotonous as ever. a fluffy tail flicks repetitively behind him, a back-and-forth metronome of blue - white, " don't touch my bones, they're mine and i collected them myself. and don't move my stones. " he's jabbing a paw out, pointing towards the too - neat line of unimportant - looking pebbles resting against the far wall. said bones are a series of bleaches, slightly splintering prey bones he seemed to have scavenged from leftovers.
it's quiet when they finally do lie down to sleep. the stars brim high overhead, twinkling in absent alabaster pulses against the blighted sky. shrikepaw watches the drifting clouds overhead, sees them cast heavy in front of the porcelain moon, plummeting them into darkness for nothing more than a couple of fleeting seconds. he's nearing rest when, suddenly, the other darts up with a SHOUT.
shrikepaw bolts upward, on his paws in the blink of an eye, little figure puffed to add what height his long, bristling fur manages before spotting their attacker. a spider. big and leggy, fuzzy and brown. he can see it just where the moon peers into the burrow, the backlit glow casting a long, creepy shadow towards bumblepaw. it's skittering towards where he had placed his makeshift nest, cornering the other feline further with each passing second. in a burst of pale blue, the youth had leaped, cupping the insect between two tiny alabaster paws, gawking at the feeling of its little limbs thrashing under his pads. gross, but interesting. he wondered if he could keep it . . " it's wiggly, but its not biting. that's a good sign. " the boy stated, matter - of - factly, " that means it's friendly. " kind of, right? shrikepaw certainly thought so, " wanna see? "
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− SHRIKEPAW ; he / him. three months old. windclan apprentice.
− small, stunning blue smoke longhair w low white & pale olive eyes.
− homosexual, greyromantic ; sootstar x flint. penned by antlers.
