- Aug 3, 2022
- 326
- 143
- 43
Thriftfeather. Dustwhisker. Thornrunner. Juncopaw. Ebonylight. Rumblerain. Those are who remain of Sootstar's most loyal warriors—and Granitepelt is their leader. The gray warrior has spent muddled, gray days with aching joints and sour wounds in a makeshift nest. He has scoured the scrubland with his 'Clanmates,' finding meager prey, less recognizable herbs. It feels like a wasteland—they're the only life for as far as their eyes can see to the next horizon. Still, Granitepelt makes the best of it—he has to. They all have to. They are all that's left of the one, true WindClan.
"Gather," he rasps, winding his tail around his slate-colored paws. They're all still sore, limping, their stomachs are barren, but there is fight flaring in their eyes. The Clans—WindClan and Sunstride especially—have not seen the last of them, that's for certain. "There is someone among us who should have received her warrior name long ago. Juncopaw, step forward."
The stars are beginning to burn through the inky sky, but it is of no consequence to Granitepelt. He does not need a star behind his name to make an apprentice into a warrior. He has sat through ceremony after ceremony, under leader after leader, and he knows the words that will make Juncopaw into a true warrior—that is, if he eliminates the need for Clans and the warrior code. "I, Granitepelt, call Juncopaw forward. She has trained hard to become a formidable warrior."
He turns lean, hungry green eyes on the apprentice in question. He beckons her forward with the flick of his tail. "Juncopaw, do you promise to stand by your true Clanmates through blood and fire, no matter what threatens to tear us apart?" He's making words up as he goes, but he's satisfied with the way they feel slipping through his teeth.
"Gather," he rasps, winding his tail around his slate-colored paws. They're all still sore, limping, their stomachs are barren, but there is fight flaring in their eyes. The Clans—WindClan and Sunstride especially—have not seen the last of them, that's for certain. "There is someone among us who should have received her warrior name long ago. Juncopaw, step forward."
The stars are beginning to burn through the inky sky, but it is of no consequence to Granitepelt. He does not need a star behind his name to make an apprentice into a warrior. He has sat through ceremony after ceremony, under leader after leader, and he knows the words that will make Juncopaw into a true warrior—that is, if he eliminates the need for Clans and the warrior code. "I, Granitepelt, call Juncopaw forward. She has trained hard to become a formidable warrior."
He turns lean, hungry green eyes on the apprentice in question. He beckons her forward with the flick of his tail. "Juncopaw, do you promise to stand by your true Clanmates through blood and fire, no matter what threatens to tear us apart?" He's making words up as he goes, but he's satisfied with the way they feel slipping through his teeth.
- ooc: —
-
-
Granitekit.Granitepaw. Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
— "speech", thoughts, attack
— 20 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
— mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
— windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
— formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
— penned by Marquette.
sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.