private Down in the underworld ☄ Halfpaw

SINGEPAW

Hot headed!!!!
Nov 2, 2023
114
24
18
*+:。.。 Singepaw stares at the patch of disturbed earth in the center of the clearing. Although the air remained muggy, a level or two into uncomfortably warm, he imagined that bare spot would be cold to the touch. That was the only intelligible thought he'd been able to form since he'd sat outside of the apprentice's den. This wasn't the first time he couldn't sleep, he doubted it'd be the last. All he could think about was that spot he now stared at. There wasn't an expectation that it would suddenly spawn a living, breathing cat - he knew Chilledstar was dead and gone, buried under the soil in a completely different part of Shadowclan's land - he just...couldn't stop staring. The night hung heavy above his head, the stars winking unchanged above his head, too far out of reach to provide any comfort, even if he did believe he was being watched by kindly, dead eyes. Or where they all also trained on that probably-not-actually-cold spot? Had they always been, and he just never noticed? What did that make him, then? A living cat following the paw steps of the long-deceased. Was a part of him dead, too? Did it matter?

Claws dig deep into the soil, unconsciously anchoring him in place. For what, though? There was nowhere to go, nothing to do, even if he desperately, desperately wished to get up and just-
He dug them in harder, feeling breath hiss through his teeth even as his lungs remained somehow painfully empty. His eyes were stinging, but he continued to stare unblinkingly at the spot. Yes, it's because he doesn't blink that his eyes are burning, the corners aflame with an aching pressure mounting behind his corneas.





  • GENERAL:
    Singepaw
    Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
    8 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
    NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
    Shadowclan — Kit
    Apprenticed to Smogmaw


    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally easy
    Attack inbold #b8312f
    Can be power played just ask
    injuries: none



 

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Chilledstar's death was something tangible in ShadowClan. She could almost taste the collective misery as her clan mourned the death of yet another figurehead. She had never known Briarstar or Pitchstar, but she had heard their flames had been extinguished quickly, too fast. At first, it was thought that a curse lay over Starlingheart and her kin but now? Halfpaw is not so certain. Perhaps the curse was the entirety of ShadowClan's to bare. Perhaps they were paying for some ancient wrong committed by their ancestors.

She misses Chilledstar with the rest of them, but the void that they had left in the wake of their death had been quickly taken up by her father. Smogaw stepping up to lead them fron the dark as he had promised when he had taken up the mantle as deputy. Halfpaw cannot deny that it hadn't gone to her head a little bit. When she wasn't fearing for his life, that is.

Tonight, her dreams are plagued by unrelenting darkness. Figures that dance in the shadows of a never ending pine forest but she can never quite reach them. They call out to her, taunting her. Failure they hiss You can't protect anyone. You're weak "Shut up, shut up SHUT UP" she screams as she launches herself at one then another, her claws swiping through nothing but shadows. It is when a heavy paw, too large to belong to a cat of the clans, knocks into the side of her head and she hits the ground does she wake with a gasp.

In the dim moonlight she can see that she is indeed not in a endless pine forest but in the apprentices den where she had fallen asleep. She blinks a couple of times, vision bleary as it adjusts to the waking world and despite her nightmares she was fully prepared to roll over and try to go back asleep when she catches the sight of a shaking form at the entrance of the den.

Singepaw.

Instead of going back to bed like she knows she should she pushes herself up to her paws, picks her way carefully through the slumbering bodies and takes a seat beside her flame-pointed friend. "You can't sleep either?" she asks, her voice a whisper so as not to wake any more apprentices. In the cover of night, she does not yet notice the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.
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    HALFPAW SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO APPLEJAW, ASHENFALL, SWANSONG, GARLICHEART, THORNPAW AND LAURELPAW
    A fluffy she cat who's fur is half cream tabby, half blue tabby split by white. Her eyes are two mismatched shades of blue, with one being a light icy blue and the other being darker in color.
    Easy in battle + still learning how to fight
 
*+:。.。 Singepaw practically chokes on his tongue when a ghost speaks into his ear, summoned forth by his deathly stare. It takes him a moment - one spent flinching and lifting his claw in a defensive ready-to-die-swinging sorta pose, to realize that he's not, in fact, speaking to a reanimated corpse...or, rather, he is but one he's familiar with. "You look like shit" he pants out the first thing that pops into his head - better than yelping, he figures. Although, with a slight squint, he observes how true that impulsive statement was. Halfpaw was, at least by others' standards, a very pretty molly, so to see her eyes ringed black and painted fur sticking out in all sorts of places like a porcupine stuck upside down to a tree...yeah, she wasn't looking too great.
Sympathy crawls like an unwelcome spider, leaving his mouth dry and the cavity in his chest itching. Looking away only drags his eyes back to that dreaded spot, resuming his perpetual sentinel duty as he claws dig furrows into the mud, "No," he replies finally to her question, but adds one of his own, "Nightmare?"

As he waits for her reply, he scoots to the side, an unspoken invitation to sit beside him or a preemptive attempt to keep her at arms-length, depending entirely on Halfpaw's choice. Admittedly, he wouldn't mind her company. Shadowclan has endured so many losses in its run, with Halfpaw being tied to many of them. He wonders if she has...tips, for dealing with it all. "It wasn't exactly easy to deal with when it was other people's families," he hears himself say, voice whispy, like smoke from a snuffed-out flame, "seeing people fall apart...sucked but I...I don't know..." He halts his confession in its tracks, spider legs clawing pinpricks into his rib cage, weaving silk around his lungs until his breath comes faster and emptier, pained. It feels incredibly selfish to say he never thought grief could be so painful, admitting aloud to empathy he never thought he'd needed to learn...admitting to empathy he wished he never had to learn. Chilledstar wasn't even related to him, did he have the right to say he understood now, anyway? Although he'd always seen the figurehead as more than just a king to bow to....he wasn't sure what to label it. He'd liked them, that's for sure. He...dislikes not having them around.

Staring at that spot they'd once occupied, now empty of their presence in the same way the camp as a whole is, Singepaw shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. Suddenly, he wonders if it's that spot where a corpse had laid that would be cold to the touch, or if it's the one he sits upon now that's devoid of warmth. "This sucks" he finally hisses, lifting a paw to quickly shove away moisture from his eyes, turning his head away to ensure Halfpaw doesn't see.




  • GENERAL:
    Singepaw
    Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
    9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
    NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
    Shadowclan — apprentice
    Apprenticed to Smogstar


    COMBAT:
    Physically medium | mentally somewhat easy
    Attack inbold #b8312f
    injuries: none



 

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She's frightened him, she can tell from the moment he lifts his claws into the air as if he meant to strike. She does not shy away or flinch. Instead, she waits patiently for him to settle and even finds herself softly snorting when finally he speaks You look like shit he says and she rolls her eyes "And you look great as well" she fires back, a teasing tone playing on her lips. But she knows his words have a ring of truth in it. Usually, she was the picture of composure. Pelt groomed perfectly, not a hair out of place, insecurities and fears tucked securely behind a mask, buried under as many stones as her mind could carry. Tonight though she doesn't bother. "Nightmare." she confirms, nodding solemnly but not caring to elaborate as she accepts his invitation and plops herself down at his side with a heavy sigh.

A stretch of silence finds its way between them before Singepaw finally speaks again. Halfpaw is quiet, listens to every word and rolls them about in her mind. If anyone knew what it was like to loose- what it was like to grieve it was her. An image of the bright blue eyes and the widest dam smile she had ever seen flash when she closes her eyes for even just a moment and she sucks in a breath. "I know" she says quietly, because she does. ShadowClan was a clan of perpetual mourning, of tears behind the eyes and heads hung low, of wondering who would be next.

She shifts closer to Singepaw, so that their pelts are brushing and she thinks of the time she had seen her father cry. She had been disgusted, though she was uncertain as to why. It was a feeling she had not been proud. But here, now, seeing how torn up Singepaw looked... She feels an urge to protect. What made one instance so different from the other, she wonders. Why did she look upon her fathers tear stained face and see nothing but weakness?

"It doesn't get any easier you know" she says finally, her voice dripping with undisguised cynicism before her eyes soften and she turns her head in his direction, despite the fact that his own is turned away from her "But it does get... less. In time." How many moons had it been since Nettlepaw was stolen from them? Since she was brought into this world and Halfshade had left it? Her father and ehr older siblings obviously still felt the stinging pain of grief, but their mothers name was uttered less and less as time went by. Nettlepaw too- his image was beginning to fade in her mind. As Chilledstar's soon would in all of theirs. But they would never forget - not entirely at least. Of that, she is certain.
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    HALFPAW SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO APPLEJAW, ASHENFALL, SWANSONG, GARLICHEART, THORNPAW AND LAURELPAW
    A fluffy she cat who's fur is half cream tabby, half blue tabby split by white. Her eyes are two mismatched shades of blue, with one being a light icy blue and the other being darker in color.
    Easy in battle + still learning how to fight
 
*+:。.。 He finds himself smirking at her rebuttal. Halfpaw's no-nonsense style is always, somehow, a relief amidst the swell of...fucking nonsense. He relaxes a little more in his seat. It's a little less appreciated when his question yields a bitter truth without honey to help it go down. Eyes the color of cave water flick back to his friend, feeling a coyote's bite upon his throat as her appearance feels suddenly so much less funny to poke at. A fierce cat-like Halfpaw...what sorta nightmares could she possibly have? He's sorta glad she doesn't elaborate, lest she plants whatever Starclan-forsaken beasts she concocted up into his head...and yet, he wishes he had the confidence to ask.

But all he can think about is that empty spot, its cold radiating like ripples in a clan left just a little bit quieter in the absence of one particular voice. But the waves of frost don't quite reach him in their entirety anymore when Halfpaw sits beside him. Although his gaze remains firmly where he wished it wouldn't, he finds he can blink a little more steadily now. He finds himself rather glad that she'd had her nightmare, as selfish as that is. "Tch" is all he can muster, irritable at the surge of grief that threatens to choke him. He'd survived getting his throat pierced, he wasn't about to be felled by some fucking emotion.

And yet, when he feels fur brush against him, he finds that too-cold spot looks a lot blurrier than he remembers. "Thanks for sugar-coating it" he hisses sarcastically, but the mask he attempts to conjure is as weak as the well-groomed one Halfpaw hadn't maintained, cracking at the edges as he feels himself sagging a little into Halfpaw touch. She's warm, he thinks, dizzy and stupid and incredibly angry. When he feels her turning her head, he moves his nose to meet her challenge.
And he wonders, again, about the nightmare she had before waking up. Meeting her gaze, a firmness to her pearly blues that mirrors the look in Briarthorn's eyes when she talks about Sweetpaw, he finds those teeth in his throat again. "I ain't afraid if it doesn't" he responds, stiffening his shoulders against the provocation he just sent to the universe. Singepaw believes now that there weren't beasts in Halfpaw's nightmares, but corpses. He doesn't doubt that's inarguably worse. But if Halfpaw could carry that weight - that coldness - and still kick his ass in a spar, then he could, too.

And, like everything else in his life he refuses to put anything less than 110% of his strength into it, he vows he'll grow strong enough to carry Halfpaw's dead, too. At least enough so that he isn't afraid to ask next time about her nightmare...and she doesn't have to hesitate to tell him about them. "But...thanks. Really." he adds, so busy vowing into her mismatched hues that he doesn't put his full awareness to the red paw he lifts, aiming to lightly brush a cow-lick beside her ear flat. "You really do look awful, are you sure it was a nightmare and not just you seeing your own reflection?" he offers, a smirk dancing on his lips as he gazes upon a messy pelt shining with moonlight.




  • GENERAL:
    Singepaw
    Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
    9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
    NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
    Shadowclan — apprentice
    Apprenticed to Smogstar


    COMBAT:
    Physically medium | mentally somewhat easy
    Attack inbold #b8312f
    injuries: none