camp dark side — intro

[RATWHISKER]

power belongs to those who take it .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His yellow gaze remained stationary, staring at the freshkill pile with a deep scowl, overcome with the need to steer his son outside of camp ( and away from prying eyes ) and give that foolish son of his a lesson. He rumbled, teeth flaring against the pitch dark of his fur, sharp yellow hues narrowing.

He was no more a traitor than those rogues, making his gut coil in rage. All those times he spent, honing in on promising skills only for them to slap him in the face. His son was peculiar, nothing like his mother who screamed in rage at the sight of their youngest son, sneering something only a demon could love, Ratwhisker realized the abomination they created.

For all those times he sacrificed his time to train. His son had a harboring way of expressing his thanks, getting in the way like some heart-strung fool. He had nearly raised a paw in anger, seething quietness with well-aimed whispers that if he had the time for friends as pointless as they were, then he had time to train and show RiverClan that he wasn’t some mindless traitor. To think that is his son. His nose crinkled.

He taught him to respect their leaders. To submit. It seems that lesson wasn’t as remembered as he had previously thought. With that, Ratwhisker strode forward, intending to see just what their saviors thought of Dawnstorm ( even the name left a bitter taste in his mouth ). “Pardon my interruption, but I must know how my son, Dawnstorm is progressing.” He rumbled, nearly demanding in his haste to grasp onto anything that foolish boy did, something he could be proud of, but he was always met with grave disappointment. “I want him to be the best. If he is lacking in areas, then I will see to it that it gets fixed.”

/ talking to @coyotecreek , but no need to wait !​

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thought speech​

 

[shellpaw]

a feeble strength finds her outside today — playing idly at lounging warriors paws when a shadow crosses over her head. she tips her chin back and spots him just in time to scrabble upward toward the bulk of the coyotecreek’s lower leg, wide eyes scanning ratwhisker’s face for any hint of softness. she doesn’t find it, and his past as a colony cat leads her only further into a squinting suspicion. it’s scary, she thinks, not knowing which of them were willing to unsheathe their claws against her kin and which would speak softly to her, kindly. ratwhisker did not seem the type to coo at her ; grizzled and stone - voiced, like all the good elder warriors were. the ones that wanted her, and any other kit, out of sight and out of mind.

she doesn’t know what to think, even less so when he begins to ask about dawnstorm. the tom was friendly, much nicer than most the cats her elders whispered about ; she almost wished he had been born a riverclanner, so her heart didn’t have to hurt with worry when she sees him. shellkit’s throat clicks, puffing out a breath before coyotecreek could respond, ” dawnstorm is.. nice. “ she offers, quietly, letting her ambered gaze fall towards powder - toned paws. it wouldn’t be what ratwhisker was looking for, but the kit was no expert in combat, or assimilation into their ranks. she knows he was a gentle presence, and that the sound of his voice coming from the tom’s lips sounded strange ; she tucks herself close, cagey, to look up towards coyotecreek for help.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i.
  
  
• 
  
  
• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. TWO MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

There is something to be said about being a quick judge of character. Lichentail is by no means a social genius and often falls short of understanding most subtle cues and nuances but the twisting feeling in her gut that follows a chiseled, aged voice is plenty for her to have made a decision with. Eyes gleam with a forgotten kitten-aged fear, a ringing voice of a judgmental father and a mother just as selfish to match. It sends her heart fluttering in bygone shame, as if she is under the careful eye of scrutiny again... 'Such a pretty girl...' 'Why'd you break it!?'

Subconsciously, a fractured tail tucks itself neatly, end quivering with agitation and upset.

He asks after areas of improvement and it makes her seethe. What grown adult... needed such watchful direction? A blue tabby pelt comes to mind, swirling around her with a deceitful faux delicacy and care that it is suffocating. The day I see Hyken again will still be too soon, she huffs to herself, glad for the self-imposed distance from her parents. Dawnstorm didn't deserve to be loomed after... And Coyotecreek, though capable of answering, is likely too friendly and willing to share.

"Generous to offer your time," she says, struggling to find a way to word it without being a blatant liar. "But it is nothing that will not be refined with time and familiarity..."

"Unfortunately, 'the best' is a slot reserved for Shellkit here," she dotes, reaching down to press her nose into soft, daisy-pale fur. A kind-hearted songbird... never a nasty word to share. With such a winning smile and thoughtful charisma learned from Hazecloud, she was sure to be a successful warrior someday. "Are you sure you're doing well? Winter is hard for everyone," she asks, a backhanded question at best.

---

WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

​

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[RATWHISKER]

power belongs to those who take it .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His muzzle nearly wrinkled at the young child’s statement, a scoff on the tip of his tongue at the useless implication. Nice? He felt the corner of his lips curl downward. Being nice. He breathed deeply. There was no point. Being nice was simply waiting to be slaughtered, left to rot like crowfood as others rose to conquer.

It was what led them to this dastardly line of events. Arguably, it would have been better to kill the non-believers right where they stood than give them the feeble option to run like cowards.

His gaze narrowed, tempted to sneer at the child, hiding behind Coyotecreek’s leg, interrupting a conversation that she had no business in. Ratwhisker schooled his expression with a guttural sigh, sharp hues staring at Lichentail. “It seems you are mistaken.” He rumbled, ears curving against his helm, shifting sideways in contemplation. “I merely want to aid in his progress, time is not an issue, to let him run wild is … unfavorable. He does not take well to gradualness, but with a firm paw.” He finished, gaze narrowing, but otherwise skimming over the childish statement.

It seemed they had different definitions of the best, but no matter, Dawnstorm ( his nose nearly wrinkled ) had trained around her age, Ratwhisker couldn’t be sure. “I am doing well. Yes.” He grunted, yellow hues narrowing at the comment. “The seasons shouldn’t be an excuse, it is a matter of skill, that one cannot be complacent, but to train harder during harder times.” ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Moonbeam]

Hearing the conversation before her there was a soft frown upon the apprentice's face. It was odd for a warrior outside of the leads to ask about the progress of another even if they were a new cat within the clan, especially when the one asking about the progress was also new to the clan. Was this one of those things that the Ripple Colonists did that was different from RiverClan, or was this just an act of a parent being concerned over their child? Moonpaw was curious but wasn't going to ask - at least not ask Ratwhisker - so instead she moved forward, her head tilted slightly as she took in the next words that came from the older feline's maw. "As far as I've seen he's doing good on his training." The apprentice would offer, remembering how he'd been fine on the patrol with her to the SkyClan border. She liked Dawnstorm, one of the cats she could actively say she enjoyed the company of from those that had joined more recently. She wasn't a mentor, wasn't old enough to be a mentor let alone help train a cat or fully determine if one was training well - she wasn't even done with her own training despite it being different than that Dawnstorm was receiving.

"Everyone's training harder right now, whether it be hunting, fighting, or swimming. The cold itself makes that part of whatever training is being done harder by simply existing. He's doing good, he's helping the clan." Helping the clan and continuing to learn despite difficult times were what was needed, not overtraining and exausting one's self or getting injured from being too hard on yourself when herb supply and food were both so low.

I WISH PLANT LIFE ꕥ WOULD GROW ALL AROUND ME

• 
  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 9 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently being mentored by ravensong
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[otterbite]

It could have come to a surprise for anyone that Otterpaw did not jump to isolate his Clanmates born beyond RiverClan's borders. His perception of what made a cat part of his Clan fit the simple minded thoughts that often filtered in and out of his head. What made a RiverClan cat was rather simple, really. Having a Clan name, eating fish without judgement, and absolutely under no circumstances did they resemble or appear anything kittypet-like.

Maybe it was something ingrained in the chimera from days he wouldn't remember, but his logic rarely failed him. Anyone could have been capable doing what Sasha and Deacon had done regardless of where they were, there was no lack of evil under the stars. Part of Otterpaw knew himself, had he the chance to kill a powerful enemy like that, he would take it. But none in his Clan were such enemies, fortunately.

"Iunno, backseat mentoring are pretty stupid if you ask me." Otterpaw rumbled as he ripped a fish bone out of the old bedding he was meant to clean out. "No cat here gets two mentors at a time anyway, what makes Dawnstorm so special? Lichentail, if Dawnstorm's dad and SNakeblink get to mentor him, then I want Pikesplash too!!" He haphazardly tossed the fishbone behind him in his protest. ​

RIVERCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ BLUE-BLACK CHIMERA ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[PERCHBERRY]

There was something about Ratshadow that always made him feel uneasy. The way he interacted with Dawnstorm or spoke about them like they currently were doing. It could all just be in his head. Perchberry was not smart enough to be worthy to really judge anyone of his clanmates, but he just couldn't ignore this feeling. That familliar feeling. How a firm paw were the solution to everything. Maybe, maybe it was though and he was a rare case of failure. Perchberry ears fall back and through anxious eyes watched from a safe distance away not wishing to be anywhere near Ratshadow. He was truly terrifying. Hopefully he would never cross path with them alone. That was at least his life long goal. Everyday he worked hard to avoid an encounter like that with this tom. So far he had been doing well.


​

 

[bubbleburst]

"GOT A LITTLE CASH NOW SO THAT SKIRT IS DIOR"​

Bubblepaw and Swanpaw's parents had not had much hand in their apprenticeships so far. Their father was fairly distant and their mother had been nothing more than a cheerleader, but Bubblepaw prefers it that way. Her relationship and training progress with Aspenhaze should remain between them only; excluding those who were supposed to know like Lichentail and Smokestar, of course. The silver tabby grimaces at the idea of having someone hover her training progress.

When Moonpaw speaks up, Bubblepaw nods her head enthusiastically in agreement. "Moonpaw is right," she says aloud "All of us have been working extra hard. This season is hard, but none of us who have been training have been slacking at all." The silver molly thinks back to her first catch- achieved as snow had begun to blanket the ground- and how fondly she'd thought of this achievement. Perhaps there was more to be said for it, given the season.

Bubblepaw agrees silently with Otterpaw's determination: that backseat mentoring is pretty stupid. She doesn't say anything in that regard, though.​

✦ ★ ✦​