BUBBLE POP [ exploration ]

[mothpaw .]

Mothpaw hadn't been out of camp much yet. Well, that was kind of a lie. His mentor had dragged him out a couple of times, but he just wasn't feeling it. But today was the day! The day to go out in all of that mud and just look around. Have a looksie, you know? Mothpaw's tail was twitching, humming to himself as he ate a piece of prey to get filled up for the day. He knew exactly what he was doing. Webstripe, his mentor, was no where to be seen today. Did he forget to take Mothpaw on a patrol? His heart sunk at the thought, but he pushed it away.

With a small glance around, Mothpaw pushed to his paws, heading out of camp. Mud squished around his paws as he jogged towards the burnt Sycamore, deciding that he was going to do a little investigation of his own! Hopefully nobody (or just his brother, that would be fine by him,) was following him. He didn't look back to check through, the young apprentice wearing a grin on his face as he headed to the planned location. ​

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"speech"​

 

[smogstar]

The reversal of fortune that was the bears yet pollute his recent memory. Thus, Smogmaw happened to be unusually content in biding a surplus amount of time in camp. ShadowClan's hollow granted him meagre comfort even on the best of days—the humdrum, the monotonous going-ons, it added an auxiliary layer of fuzz to his already-addled mind. But, just to be home, an immense stretch of pine and marshland away from those claustrophobic tunnels, imbued him with a curious sense of relief.

In bygone moons, the deputy would set out on jaunts into the greater marsh all on his lonesome. Private time, voluntary seclusion, however one may want to christen it, those solitary escapades were his personal haven. The bog pools and reeds became his trusted confidants, listening in on his whispered worries and whatnot. He'll never know inner peace, not with a brain wired to constantly analyse and contemplate. Yet, in the marsh, the complexities of everything seemed to soften by the scantest of margins. The tom hasn't gone out on his own since his kits came into being, but he elects to do so today.

Wayward paws weave between puddles and mud patches, claws catching at dew-teeming soil as he plods onward. His brows hoist a tad upon glimpsing something in his peripheral. Tracks, of an apprentice's calibre, engraved recently into the muck underfoot. "Oy, yoo-hoo," Smogmaw calls into the shaded thicket, albeit without the necessary zest or enthusiasm to garner another's attention. Whatever the case, whomever it may be, it looks as though he isn't as solitary as initially thought.

Wisps of cream and claret infiltrate his field of vision after an indefinite duration, and he puts a little more pep in his step so as to catch up. When Smogmaw draws nearer, the lone strands of fur merge to create the form of Mothpaw; the moss-ball chucking bugger who was nigh inseperable from his brother. "Now, where're you off to?" asks the deputy, who walks a hare's-leap away from the kid's ankles. Young Mothpaw was hardly an apprentice, a mere whisker past from kithood, and ShadowClan kits had a penchant for wandering off. He should know. His own son gave him such a scare within the last moon, traipsing over to ThunderClan lands without so much as a 'goodbye'. "Keep an eager eye out for bears, you hear? Last I recall, they like hangin' around the sycamore." ​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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kits were always curious of the outside world, as they hadn't known the true natures of the danger. they were told of them, of course they were, but what kit would truly listen except for kits like orchidpaw, when she still was a kit? most were far too curious to take into account their own fears, or to heed warnings from warriors and their leader alike. it was certainly a thing that agitated chilledstar. idiotic little things didn't realize that they were trying to keep them safe.

"i, too, would love to know where you're going without a warrior."

smogmaw continues and the mention of bears near the sycamore makes them tense but not visibly. they almost space out completely, nearly being brought back to their death but they shake their head, as if to stop if before they got past the point of no return. their tail flicks and they only huff towards mothpaw.

"yeah, do that. or maybe even keep an eye out for dogs. poor mangy things love trees, and kitten sized snacks, too."
​

 

[mothpaw .]

A call, not far off, caused Mothpaw pause. His ears twitched, but thinking little of it, the apprentice continued on his way, head tilting this way and that as he viewed the bog, weaving through undergrowth and dark brambles. But he had much smaller legs then the two older on his tail. When, finally, Smogmaw and Chilledstar happen upon Mothpaw, he grins nervously, turning to look at the two of them. "I was just going on a little trip! Um, just looking around. Wanted to-" I, too, would love to know where you're going without a warrior.

Mothpaw's ears flattened, a nerve clearly struck. His head turned away, chewing at his lip. His more sensible side took over. One that he used to get him and his brother out of trouble often enough. ".. My mentor isn't.. around." Mothpaw truly had no idea where Webstripe was, the NPC having wandered off. Maybe he's off playing games and lost track of time. He reasoned, and that made him feel a little bit better. His vision lifted towards Chilledstar, then Smogmaw.

Despite the warning of danger, Mothpaw inhaled quietly, squaring his shoulders. "They couldn't catch me if they wanted to. I'm way faster." Mothpaw nodded confidently, even though realistically he'd get eaten in seconds. Mothpaw didn't know any better, after all. A mostly-absent mentor would do that to a kit-aged apprentice. ​

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"speech"​