pafp CROSSFIRE SEQUENCE \ ides of newleaf prompt

[GRANITEPELT]

14. Beware the ides of Newleaf... your character is overcome with a sudden sense of dread. They can't tell why, everything was just going fine! Have them do a little introspection... might it be because of the weather, an interaction they have recently had?

-

It's been a moon, at least, since Granitepaw had taken Pitchstar's final life. Since he'd disposed of the nightshade Starlingheart had given him. Since Siltpaw had lied for him, taking charge of his misdeed and saving him from exile or worse. The gray tom has done his best to put that nightmare of an incident behind him, now more or less confident the Clan cannot know what he's done.

Pitchstar had not come to Chilledstar or Starlingheart in dreams. He had not sent an omen. StarClan is silent on the matter, and he knows Siltpaw would never betray him.

He's safe in ShadowClan. And he's repentant. He's not sorry that skinny rat bastard is dead, but he wants to make it up to StarClan somehow. If he devotes the rest of his life to ShadowClan, can't he convince StarClan he did the marsh-dwelling colony a favor? Chilledstar is hardly better, but sooner or later, Pitchstar would have led them straight into hell with him. He'd grown more and more deranged at the end -- deranged and paranoid.

Granitepaw nods to himself. He sits in camp, just outside Starlingheart's den. His gray tail is twitching behind him as he sifts through his thoughts. But the fur begins to prickle along his spine, and he turns slowly to see who is staring at him.

Massive red-tinted eyes like bleeding moons are raking over his coat. Granitepaw meets Ghostpaw's gaze with dread flushing through his body like a fever. The white tom has never had any qualms about staring, but there's something more in his stare today.

Incriminating.

He begins to feel ill. Sweat beads between his paw pads, and he has to force his jaw not to tremble. Ghostpaw is looking at him with the eyes of a cat who knows. How could he? Had Siltpaw said something after all? Had-- had he said something in his sleep? Out loud, just now, without realizing it?

Granitepaw heaves himself to his feet, almost-wobbly, and bares his teeth fiercely at the unsightly apprentice. "What are you looking at, you rat-faced freak?" Oh, he feels ill, he feels like he'll collapse. He has to keep a sturdy grip on the ground, has to face Ghostpaw like the little creep he is. He knows nothing. He knows NOTHING!

// please wait for @GHOSTPAW​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[GHOSTPAW]

Ghostpaw has never known how easy it was to get lost in your own thoughts.

His words had always been careful. But did he think, when he spoke? Consider, maybe. Was that the same thing as thinking? To mull over the words – a stutter, but the space is filled with nothing. The echoes of memories drag up and over his ears, hanging above his head. Had he done something wrong? He could hardly remember enough to deduce if it was, or if it wasn't. It isn't fair.

Ghostpaw remains quiet on the topic of his warriorship. It feels a long time coming, but not long enough. More time spent than he's ever truly realized, something like regret is clawing its way up. Or maybe just fear? Just... scared? He tries to think of what he's good it. He can catch a mouse. He can repeat the moves Geckoscreech had taught him. Stiff. Self-critique comes with a wince. He's suddenly aware of the stiffness of his own legs. Of his own self. Would it mean anything to have a new name?

He can see the stony pelt of Granitepaw, lounging idly by Starlingheart's den. And he deserves to take a breath, to ease into knowing that he would be great. Ghostpaw would be made Ghostsomethingelse beside him, someone who means something. And it isn't fair – he doesn't think so. Are rock-throwers the ones to be good warriors? Maybe because he wasn't scary enough...

Blue-pink eyes are caught on the blue expanse of fur, looking for something, anything. He didn't know what, and he didn't think Granitepaw could tell him either. He can see the prickle of his spine. The rise and fall of hurried breaths. But there was nothing else there. Nothing. Not until there's curling lips and snapping teeth. His wide-eyed gaze remains, perhaps just a fraction wider. " You... " His answer is honest. Pale eyes flit past the apprentice and back, distracted by something unseeable. " I just wanted to... know... " –his secret. The thing that's missing.​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

WHAT AN EXPENSIVE FAKE
siltpaw | 11 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally medium | attack in bold #ddadaf

---

Where siltpaw seems to have come into herself due to the incident, she cannot say the same of granitepaw. Dull green gaze watches impassively as he skitters about these days, the paranoia clear to read. Watches him prickle and twitch - follows his gaze to find the cause. Oh, it's ghostpaw again, she things, a semblance of pity flickering in her eyes. She's always liked the strange boy, though she wouldn't call him a friend per say. His eyes are shiny and pretty, so unusual and not like anything she'd ever know, and she's always coveted things that stand out. People that stand out. Perhaps it because she herself has always been so plain - just another shadow in the background. Will her clanmates even miss her if she dies, the way they did pitchstar? She doesn't yet have an answer, but that doesn't bother her much.

A quiet sigh slips past her lips at the sudden outburst that follows - at the hurt and confusion that flickers upon the albinos face. She decides then with no amount of pain and unease that it is time to step in - before he says anything incriminating. Sometimes - well, sometimes siltpaw wonders just why she is like this. Why she can do this, for him, when she cannot bring herself to do it for her. She slips forwards to offer herself as a barrier between the two toms, gaze focused somewhere not quite eye level and yet staring at nothing in particular. "Know what, ghostpaw?" she says quietly, her tone calm and even - though with just a sliver of lightness squeezed in, a rare show of emotion in her otherwise monotone speech, forced though it may be.

​

​

​

​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ Time passes by relentlessly. Going forward no matter how much he wishes for it to slow down and let him breathe. He has lost a father, a mother, a brother. What more can he lose? And all the while his face keeps stretching with that grin attached. Pulling and pulling till he thinks it might just split his maw open wide. Even now as he toys with some bug he found, some beetle that smile still lays upon his lips. Dutifully. His tail twitches back and forth idly before suddenly he presses his paw over the beetle and effectively squishes it. The cracking crunch making his small smile grow for a moment before his head jerks up at the fierce snapping snarl he hears from across the way. Blinking dual colored orbs the half blind warrior pushes himself to his paws and makes his over to the scene. "Oh my, my, my, what did Ghostpaw do?" And to he called a freak no less. A chortle leaves his throat as he looks at them before tilting his head a little.

Though he is curious of the nature of it all. Especially when Ghost speaks back, a pause in his words. He just wanted to know what exactly. Silt is blocking the two but he hardly thinks that they would fight one another. Hardly. Maybe. ​