private COMFORT CROWD — dovepaw

[DARKWHISKER]

(（=´∇｀=）)ﾉ — Beesong's announcement had come as a shock to all of them; that's what Darkpaw thinks, anyway. He had been under the impression that RiverClan would continue in their search of Gloompaw, and when— not if, because Darkpaw did not want to admit that Gloompaw might not return— they found her, she would resume working beneath the scarred healer. Everyone would be happy, and life would seem a little more normal again.

But fate had another plan. Beesong decided to take on another apprentice in Gloompaw's absence... and Darkpaw tries to be happy for Ravenpaw, because he knows how high of an honor it is to be chosen for such a sacred role and he saw how happy the raven-furred tom seemed in the moments before the outcry. He should be happy. But with a myriad of jealousy and disappointment that it hadn't been him chosen to walk the star-kissed path of a medicine cat, and a feeling of wrongness at how Gloompaw seemed to be forgotten, stirring beneath the surface... it was hard for him to force a smile and congratulate his peer.

It's why he could sympathize with Dovepaw so easily. The other had seemed upset by the announcement, and while Darkpaw couldn't agree with storming off instead of supporting a clanmate... he understands why Dovepaw's upset. And it's why Darkpaw seeks him out after tucking his sacred pebble in a safe spot, hoping that he could at least lift Dovepaw's spirits a little.

"Dovepaw!" Darkpaw calls to the other tom when he spots him, a small smile on his face and his tail waving in greeting as he trots over. "Are you free? I was thinking we could go flower-picking... The makeshift camp could use a bit of decoration, while we're still here."

@dovepaw. ​

 

[dovethroat.]

The fact that it had come as such a shock to Dovepaw was primarily what made him upset. The fact that he had no interest in being a warrior was one that was mostly held to his chest, kept un-implied to everyone except for Ravenpaw. He hated fighting, he hated hunting, he hated most of the mechanics that facilitated clan life on a base level. He had not really come to terms with that yet. The idea of betraying or leaving behind anyone, including his mother (he had no father of siblings to speak of) and even Ravenpaw—in spite of his anger—was too sad to follow up on.

Of course, deep down, part of him pined for the path of the medicine cat. That was an opportunity that was no longer available to him, and he would die with that dream unfulfilled. That stung. Especially for a person who had a troubled relationship with StarClan.

But Ravenpaw had told him something that he had believed. That Dovepaw had, in turn, confided in, sympathized with. Now it was all a lie, and Ravenpaw appeared as nothing more in his mind than a manipulative, slimy, conniving social climber.

He had spent the time since the announcement being more withdrawn than ever, which was an achievement. Dovepaw's face was fixed into a scowl, or at least something close to it.

Immediately, he jumps at the arrival of Darkpaw; his body seizing up in fear. "...Wh-What?" He eventually asks, his forehead creasing in exhaustion and general malaise. "...Um," if there's one thing he feels stronger than his bitterness toward Ravenpaw, it is the compulsion to not say no to anyone. But his typically polite phrasing has disappeared.

"O-Okay. F—...okay," Dovepaw mumbled, standing up stiffly.

[⋆]​

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