camp enjoy the silence / skirmish return

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

That had not been the outcome they were hoping for.

Roosterstrut grits his teeth as the failed hunting patrol makes its way past the camp entrance; instead of prey to fill ShadowClan's bellies, they are equipped with fresh bruises and scratches. A knot of anxiety only churns tighter within his stomach as eyes began to fix on him and the others. He knew something bad would come of this. He knew it, and yet he had been so hungry that he had been willing to participate anyway. They would have gotten away with some kills had that particular ThunderClan she-cat not been out near the borders, too. Man, this was horrible.

He stops in his tracks and turns around, sweeping his green gaze over the disheveled crew. "Is that everyone? Are we all here?" He breathes, making sure everybody was accounted for and had managed to make it back home. The trek home had been such a blur, at least for him, that he hadn't even thought of stopping. Rooster just wanted to crawl into his nest and bury his face into his paws. What would Pitchstar say?

The orange tabby whipped his gaze away from the patrol group and manages, "Starlingheart," His call is not loud enough to be constituted as a shout; he is winded from the hurry back and his head is still reeling from the ragdoll treatment. Still, he hopes to get the attention of the medicine cat so that she could start treating the patrol members right away. Roosterstrut himself doesn't have any injuries besides the bite marks on the scruff of his neck and he'll be more insistent on focusing on the care of the others first.​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

• tagging @STARLINGHEART .
  takes place after this thread
  
• 
  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. sixteen moons old. warrior of shadowclan.
  —— laid-back young adult who utilizes humor and fun in order to distract from serious matters. he is a decent warrior, though he hesitates to take risks.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  roosterstrut is a vibrant orange tabby tom with pale green eyes. he stands at a height ever so slightly above the average. his fur is long and whispy and his tail is especially reminiscent of a rooster's. he sports a signature, goofy smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye.
• 
  

​

 

[spectermask]

Limping back wasn't the easiest, with blood plastering his shoulder fur to his skin, with every step being excruciatingly hard after the adrenaline finally wore off. That heathen, oh how he seethes, loathes the man without ribs sticking out. Fuck! a particularly wrong step has him hissing out loud, nearly has his leg buckle beneath him. God fucking dammit, this wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to protect Eerie, and though unaware of the injuries his apprentice had sustained in his red haze, all he knew was that the other had gotten attacked.

All he wants to do is collapse in to Chilled, boast about how well his apprentice had done. It seemed like just a couple days ago when he had been telling them what a fine warrior he'd be. Another battle training after he heals. Another round, another fight, he'll push him harder, he'll make him better and he's so caught up in his head that he finally realizes he had not spoken a single word to Eerie. "You did- fuck!" a growl as he thumps his bad leg against the ground, distracted by Roosters call. With his shoulder practically torn open by that Thunderclanner he's not sure if he can train him for a while and he doesn't trust anyone else to do so. Except Chilled, but they have enough on their plate.

"You did well, kid." he focuses on taking deep breaths, the pain doesn't ebb at all. "Look at you, the only one with a mouse." and finally the pride is in his voice, shines in his eyes as he attempts to bump Eerie with his nose. "Your first one, right?" he forces a crooked smile that seems awkward for his face, Specter never smiled and after that he doesn't think he'll even try again. "You did very well." reiterated and simple but it conveys his emotions, something he has to steel as he looks around at the group. How many injuries were there? God, he's dizzy and his head is spinning. A long sigh leaves his mouth as he plops down. ​

"speech"​

 

[EERIENIGHT]

Pain bites at Eeriepaw's legs as he trails behind Spectermask. Gangly legs step forward in a clumsier motion than usual.

It's nothing, though.

Nothing as he carries his prize between his teeth. Nothing. Because, even though this, right now, is the most pain he's ever felt - the most his dark fur has been anything but - unblinking eyes are trained on his mentor's own wounds. Far worse than his own. Eeriepaw can't help but wonder if Magpiekit had shared a fortune with Spectermask, had read the warrior's star spot. Eeriepaw hopes this isn't the fate the fortune teller had foretold. He doesn't want Spectermask to die. Not yet.

His worries over a lack of praise, of whether he'd earned the catch he carries have been forgotten, replaced with worries for his mentor. Thoughts that distract him from his mentor's voice as he speaks, until he hears a growl beside him. Wide eyes look to his mentor.

"Don't die," Eeriepaw quickly orders his mentor. Spectermask can't die. Can't reach the stars while Eeriepaw wastes away here.

He's not dying. No, his praise finally arrives. Eeriepaw had done good. He's the only one with a mouse. Dark eyes glance around at the rest of the patrol to confirm this, and yes he is. The void-furred apprentice nods his head in acknowledgment to his mentor, to the odd look on his face.

"First catch," he answers. A pause, before he speaks again. "I earned it." He decides this is true, on what Spectermask tells him. It must be.

He did well.

But, his pride quickly simmers, as his mentor plops down on the ground. Was he dying this time? No, no, no.

"Don't die," he says again, sitting down beside the warrior, keeping his catch close to his paws. Silently, he begs for Spectermask to be okay, for his own pain to go away.
​

 

[Poppypaw ★]

The red and white apprentice followed along with the group back to camp, her head kept dipped low and shoulder's hunched and at first it might look like she was simply dejected but she had been dripping tiny flecks of blood all the way back to camp and it was beginning to clog her nose. The gash going through it burned and each time she inhaled or exhaled a tiny sharp sliver of pain cut through her muzzle so he ducked head was both her attempting to keep it from trickling and stinging and also to hide her face because she didn't want to look teary-eyed at her clanmates.
Upon finally returning she did lift her head up, ears pinned back and a choked sob of a sound rising in her throat that she tried to drown out by growling instead. She was mad at a lot of things, those condescending ThunderClanners, the fact they got found so quick, that they only got the one mouse, that Roosterstrut called a retreat before she could take her frustration out on that loud furbally of a red tabby and the blue one who had tried to pick a fight with her. But most of all Poppypaw's pride hurt more than her nose. They were all going to starve while the stupid pine forest cats got to pretend they were better than everyone else just because they weren't desperate and starving.
She hated it here.
​

 

[SNOWMASK]

The sudden shout for Starlingheart is what jolts the molly from her half sleep. Her eyes blinking rapidly before she forces her way from her nest. As she slips out of the warrior's den her gaze narrows against the sunlight, blinking before she finally manages to see what is going on. The mere fact that she smells blood makes her wince but it does not turn her away. Her former mate had been reckless and he often came back with cuts and bites from other cats who he messed with. Still it doesn't make it any better and she cautiously approaches before a guard steps almost in front of her. A frown pulls at her muzzle and she almost bites at them but refrains from doing so. "What do you think I'm going to do...?" She whispers in annoyance at the guard before shaking her head.

Instead of trying to venture closer the woman sits down and watches with worry. Her tail twitches with it and she looks for the child that carries the plants before focusing on all of these hurt cats. Hopefully everything will be okay. "I'm sure Starlingheart will be here soon. Everyone just breath and rest for now." It is the only advice she can give. ​

 

[Starlingheart]

it seemed like every single time a clanmate spoke her name it was through bloodied lips. They always needed something from her. This is what she had wanted, to be useful to her clan, to be someone they relied on and every single day she thanks the stars that she is in fact able to help. She thanks them that infection and wounds are what Bonejaw had been knowledgeable in because her clanmates got hurt so often. If she didn't know how to treat infection she truly would be of little use. She had been waiting anxiously for the patrol to come back, having a feeling in her gut that this time was different and that feeling turned out to be right. Still, she had not brought any of her herbs outside her den with her. Some small part of her had hoped she would be wrong and that everything would be fine. The second she sees Roosterstrut push his way through the camp entrance she knows that is not the case. At his call, she runs the opposite way, into her den. Though it is only for a second while she grabs a small bundle of emergency herbs she keeps wrapped in an ivy leaf for this very purpose. She retrieves it and comes running to the small patrol.

"Wh-what happened?" she asks no one in particular. Her mind races as she surveys their wounds, trying to decide who's was worse so she could start with them. She hopes that it was a fox or something because if it was thunder clan that could be bad... Judging by the assorted scratch marks she can guess that their wounds were indeed caused by cats, but she still waits for someone to confirm,
​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

undergrowth by the entrance shivers from movement caused by the returning hunting patrol who was expected to be seen with jaws full of thunderclan prey but by the looks of how battered everyone appeared it's not hard to assume that they were met with immediate resistance from their neighbor. geckoscreech couldn't help but make a sour expression, ears lowering just a bit closer to her skull as roosterstrut lamely calls for their medicine cat.

'what do you think happened? they got caught and failed' bitter words remain as a thought, it wouldn't be right to suddenly snip at the medicine cat who only wished to know more from their side but it was clearly obvious plus geckoscreech wasn't in the mood to get mouthed at in return by pitchstar for disrespecting his kin so she remains quiet with a biting gaze.

it's like the world wanted to watch them suffer because no matter what they try to solve their hunger issue something always has to intervene and send the lot of them back here with tucked tailed and slouched shoulders to continue scraping by with these pitiful crumbs.
​

[ BITTERNESS IS LIKE CANCER; IT EATS UPON THE HOST.]​

 

[betonyfrost]

Betonyfrost's mind is elsewhere as she trails behind the patrol. She hadn't caught anything— hadn't had the chance before ThunderClan was upon all of them. Part of her still feels there, retreading not the moments where she failed to hunt, but during the fight. She'd gotten a good hit in. Though she hadn't seen it in the lowlight, Betonyfrost thinks she felt blood on her claws. She knows she smelled it.

But then they are at camp, even if half of Betonyfrost is still fighting, and endless loop of motion, and Starlingheart is talking to her — to the patrol.

"There were too many of us," Betonyfrost replies distantly in the absence of any other explanation. It makes the most sense in her mind, "They were aware of us long before we had a chance to properly separate, let alone hunt."

Betonyfrost spits, then shifts in place and glances over her shoulder. She's aware of where ThunderClan sits in the same way she is aware of invisible filth on her pelt. A not-weight that has settled over here, the desire to be clean. Betonyfrost still feels ready to fight. She thinks they could have run the ThunderClanners off. Not permanently, but maybe long enough to disperse.​

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 16 moons | tags​

 

[Frostbite]

He was livid with himself. He could have done better. He was such a far cry from how he used to be..... He was weak and starving and he wasn't sure if he could stand another patrol into Thunderclan territory.

Everyone else was already talking about what happened, so he left them to it. Instead, he approached Poppypaw to check on her. He was worse off, but he still worried about her. She was his responsibility and if she had been in more danger he would have snapped those two thunderclan apprentices necks.

"You fought well, it took two apprentices to fight against your might." He said. Yes, the fight had barely begun before it ended. But who cares! He would hype Poppypaw up any day.
​

 

[smogmaw]

Hope was in scant supply in the marsh.

The preceding moons saw failure after failure for ShadowClan, from the disastrous Carrionplace patrol to the string of infections which followed suit. In his eyes, it had started to look as though there would be no overcoming this hunger crisis; that pulling a Bonejaw and running away offered better chances of survival than sticking around this damned swamp.

So, when Roosterstrut and the cats accompanying him departed for ThunderClan's territory, Smogmaw recalls seeing a few with their heads held a little higher. It was a rare opportunity for some good to happen, a shot at lessening the suffering happening back home, and thus something to be hopeful about. Unfortunately for them, their chances were rigged before a paw had ever left camp.

That even a mouse was brought back caused some surprise for the tom, who is next to approach the returning patrol. Eyes skim over the injured, pausing on a busted up Spectermask for a brief second before resuming in their scrutiny. He also glimpses Geckoscreech, looking animated as ever, and poor Starlingheart, who'll have to exhaust her herb supply by patching up another fresh batch of wounds.

His line of vision latches onto Betonyfrost while she gives an explanation. He glares at her directly, absorbing in the hindsight flowing from her maw. It does make sense, he supposes, but it isn't the whole picture.

"ThunderClan knew beforehand," blurts Smogmaw. He doesn't know who to lend his focus to—everybody deserves to hear the specifics, and hence he speaks loud enough for all to hear. "They knew about Pitchstar's plan. Our plan. Because it was told to Emberstar herself."

He speaks matter-of-factly, his words driven not by anger, but intense all the same. "Flickerfire told her everything, 'cause she was her mate," continues the tom. He feels strange to finally address the lead warrior's demise, as he'd been sitting on it for quite a while. This was the perfect moment for it. "She's dead now. Both of 'em are, attacked by animals bigger than us. But our secrets were shared, so they were ready, and only StarClan knows what else they've learned."​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

the news of what happened reached chilledgaze's ears and it makes then turn away from their task. they'd been trying to do a patrol but none of that mattered. their clanmates were hurt and as much as they got in chilledgaze nerves, as much as they didn't appreciate everything that they did, they were still theirs. their clan. their responsibility. their problem. they manage to make their way back, only moving toward spectermask upon instinct. the wound upon his shoulder makes them hiss, tail lashing as they gently nudged against them, blinking their blue eyes with a silent concern. no one else could see the softness in their gaze because it was quick to harden. they briefly looked over everyone else and felt nothing but anger. those fucking mangepelted, good for nothing, frog-brained, badgerbreathed imbeciles could have spared a few pieces of prey but instead they attacked. shadowclan couldn't afford this right now!

they clicked their tongue against the roof of their mouth before their gaze turned towards smogmaw who spoke. he said thunderclan knew they were coming... and that flicker...fire had told them? and ... she was dead, along with emberstar? they felt sick. dizzy. the nauseous swirls around in them but their face remained neutral. they couldn't dare mourn their friend in public.

"alright. no need for anymore fucking commotion. if you aren't injured, help those who are into a nest. anyone else with able paws needs to help starlingheart by using cobwebs and helping wherever she asks."

their voice is bitterly cold, more frigid their their icy gaze. they did not have time for this fucking gossip right now. everyone could call flickering a fucking traitor later. when cats weren't aching and bleeding. not right now.

"i will see what i can scavenge for some food. you all fought very well. thunderclan will pay for putting their paws on you."

and with a final lash of their tail, they left. they needed to cool off, away from everyone. flickerfire... you can't... this isn't true. you weren't a traitor... right? stars... what the hell were you thinking!? you were so in love thst you were blinded... not now, chilledgaze. not now. there were plenty reasons chilledgaze didn't love in the first place. this was certainly one of them. they don't think they could ever have chosen between their love their clan and the love of some mate... if they even could love that way. wastes of time. it's all a waste of time. to love and be loved. what a joke. look where it got the both of them.

//out !

​

[ NOBODY ELSE MATTERS, GIRL ]​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart swings her head to look in Betonyfrost’s direction as she speaks, ears pulling back against her head as she hears that they were aware of them before they even got there. But how was that possible? She is about to ask but it seems Smogmaw has the answer. "Flickerfire told her everything, 'cause she was her mate," The black and white she cat recoils like she has been struck, her body involuntarily drawing her backwards. Flickerfire had been a lead warrior, a loyal member of their clan. She wouldn’t have - no. But as much as she trusts Flickerfire she trusts Smogmaw just as much and she dips her head in acknowledgment, her expression thoughtful and sad. She hopes at least that the tortoishell queen has found peace in the stars and could be reunited with her mate there. Even if what she had done was traitorous she did not deserve to be denied access to their heavens for it. On that, Starlingheart would stand firm.

She lifts her head and her eyes take in her clanmates that are still here, still living. They had wounds that needed to be treated. She nods her head thankfully to Chilledgaze before she sets about her work, going from cat to cat and dabbing them with herbs that would heal, herbs that would help. Marigold here for a scratch. Goldenrod on the bigger wounds to help them heal before infection set in. What little Bonejaw had taught her was actually useful, she thanks the stars for that small miracle.
​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† When Pitchstar had announced his idea, it had been groundbreaking. Not enough prey? Then hunt where more of it was, the very lands cats like them had prowled before StarClan's grand intervention, before their livelihoods had been taken from them. And with plan B gone, why not go back to plan A? It's been moons now. Tred along the edge. Even the cusp of the forest should be a grand improvement.

So then, why does the patrol only return with scars, and a measly mouse for their efforts?

Sharppaw's confidence had not been abounding. But deeply, distantly, he had hoped. It's only fair that his shoulders fall with their failure. The murmur amongst themselves, and for Starlingheart. Poppypaw keeps her thoughts to a growl. He knows Starlingheart's question is stupid, the moment it leaves her mouth, but Sharppaw can't help but wonder the same. Full-moon silver, she blinks the stars from her eyes. Always the same. The same, always. Did they feel no shame? Apprentices, laden with guilt, are accompanied by their mentors throwing worthless praise their way. Sharppaw does not care to see it. Rainshade would think differently. "Nothin' will ev-er... change." Low-spoken drone, he doesn't think anyone will hear (and really, he hopes that they don't). Silently, he sways on his feet.

Smogmaw stood nearby, and she knows the sentiment is the same. There was nothing they could do, the both of them had agreed. Spinning, spinning within a world that didn't want them. His lips are pinched; holding onto something. Betonyfrost's voice was a dull drone behind it all. 'ThunderClan knew beforehand.'

Her jaw ticks. "W-what?" Gaze still floor-bound, she doesn't know what she's talking about. He doesn't know what anyone is saying. Sharppaw lifts his gaze, and he speaks the same as he always does. Flickerfire was lazy. Flickerfire had nothing useful to say. She had a strange soft-spot; spoke up against her own leader when the idea had been made. But she was okay. Despite it all, she was only... okay. She was always okay.

What happened?

Does the deputy even care? Commotion, it's all fucking commotion to them. Whip-crack, Sharppaw looks to them with a face appalled, but they're already drawing further and further away. Frigid gaze, but when wasn't it? In a moment of panic, he shouts, he cries, "Did you even hear him?!" Did they even care? Their world was crumbling, wasn't it?​

 

[PITCHSTAR]

the camp erupts into chaotic turmoil the second that one of the hunting patrols return. pitchstar almost doesn't even bother exiting his den, his mind whirling with thoughts of betrayal; he didn't want to face those liars, lurking in the shadows of his home. the scent of blood touches his tongue, swirls around his head, but he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. how many more of his so-called clanmates are lying to him? who could he trust anymore?

he thinks of flickerfire, her body shredded by vicious canines. no one. he could trust no one. not even his council... not even his family.

but smogmaw's voice reaches him, in the solitary confinement of his den. it calls the leader to the entrance, glowering out at the sight before him; his patrol, bloodied and bruised. thunderclan knew, the words echo in his ears. thunderclan knew, because flickerfire was a backstabbing traitor. his claws sink deeper into the muddy earth with each proclamation from smogmaw, his tail lashing. traitor after traitor. they're all turning against him.

thunderclan knows, but pitchstar has nothing left to lose. "it's true," the rosette tabby snaps from where he lurks in the shadows of the oak tree's roots. "flickerfire betrayed us! she wasn't a shadowclan warrior, she was a thunderclan spy for emberstar!" he spits the tortoiseshell's name as if it was crowfood, his claws raking across the ground. reckless fury burns within his copper eyes, fixated on the blood that thunderclan spilled from his warriors. shadowclan is starving, and thunderclan couldn't even bother to give up a couple of mice and squirrels?!

hypocrisy runs deeper than pitchstar realizes. if shadowclan had been the ones stolen from, he wouldn't hesitate to wage war on the thieves.

"but we're not giving in so easily; we'll keep hunting in their territory. and if they dare to attack us again, don't hold back." weak, starving, shadowclan is unfit to fight. but pitchstar is blinded by his rage- he wants thunderclan's blood. he wants the clan that flickerfire betrayed them for to suffer as much as he has. and if any of his clan has any qualms... they might as well be a traitor, too.​

 

[Swiftclaws]

Swiftclaws wasn't exactly happy he hadn't been able to go with the patrol, he knows soon enough that a chance would arrive for him to strut himself but he still impatiently paces around the camp, tail twitching with pent up energy. He wouldn't say he worried much about the patrol, Thunderclan after all was far more passive then them and though it was far from a rarity to catch a glimpse of them on patrol during the hours sunlight still dappled the moors they weren't creatures of the night like them. It was an easy task, but something had gone wrong and before the patromeven breaches past the camp entrance h can smell the iron tang of blood in the air. It makes every fur in his already spikey blue pelt stand on end, he rushes closer to the entrance as Roosterstrut and the patrol breeches their way inside. Worry lights his emerald gaze as he looks over his friend and the clanmates who follow him, blood spots the ground where they stand he can see the tears in their fur can smell the scent of Thunderclan staining their bodies. They'd been not just been found out no, they were met by more then just a normal border patrol. He almost moves back to go run for the medicine den to go fetch Starlingheart but soon enough she and many of his clanmates come rushing over to the scene and he's swallowed up in it, he has to stand on his toes in order to see everything.

His ears prick listening to the words of his clanmates trying to figure out what had happened, Betonyfrost is the first to speak she's short but the explanation is all he needs to hear to prove that his suspicions had been right. They'd been ambushed, but how? How in Starclan could they have known? The idea that someone could betray them was something that didn't seem within reason, it's the last idea his mind would come to. Despite all that least they'd gotten something he supposes, he'd have to congratulate Eeriepaw later right now he could hardly get close to the patrol much less get over to the boy to cheer him on.

The Smogmaw speaks his meow impossible to ignore carrying with it a truth Swiftclaws never wanted to hear. His ears fall back in disbelief, Flickerfire had betrayed them? Had become mates with with Thunderclan's leader? Well he supposes he could understand her infatuation, some of those Thunderclanners were pretty good looking, he wouldn't deny that but wow how had she managed to snag the heart of their leader? He would never get to ask, she'd never be able to tell her truth never be able to defend herself, her secrets were revealed after her body had gone cold. That's what bothers him the most and he wonders if he should feel this way, she'd betrayed them had put them in danger had walked a middle line until the very end; but she was also dependable and funny, he wished he'd gotten to know her better. Wished she was still alive. He shakes his head, never again would he be able to hunt with her, he'd never get to torture her with another one of his stories, he'd never see her again not alive anyway. This was the worst possible scenario wasn't it? Flickerfire and Emberstar were in starclan now, leaving their clans in variable chaos if Smogmaw wasn't mistaken. Pitchstar would further support his words, he looks to the smokey furred tom and his words come croaking out of him before he has any time to think; as if he would.

❝What about her body? Where is it?❞ he asks, voice risen so he could be heard. ❝She... she deserves to be buried traitor or not she was our clanmate❞ ​

( ★ )

 

[.NETTLEPAW.]

Tricolored ears prick as Nettlepaw slips from his hidey hole only the star's know where, green eyes scanning features for any of his siblings within the commotion, pelt prickling uncomfortably. Hidden beneath that scowl was worry, glittering in lime green eyes, before nodding in reassurance that nobody in his family was apart of this and that everyone, atleast, was alive. He then scans for Starlingheart, catching sight of her black shape as it flits anxiously between each injured cat in camp, stepping forward on morbidly curious paws as he listens to multiple explanations of what happened. The Thunderclan-secret-raiding-party went off but quickly thwarted, it seems, his eyes flicking to the one measly mouse Eeriepaw carried, a click of his tongue the only response. The price for one measly mouse was atleast a good number of his clanmates injured, it seems. Great plan, brother, Nettlepaw thought sourly, slipping up to Poppypaw to block her from atleast some of the clanmates who hadn't seen her. "C'mon, let's get you somewhere so Starlingheart can look at you when she's done with the others," He meowed, jerking his chin toward his sister's den just as Pitchstar's stalking shape comes slithering out of his own little hole.

Nettlepaw pauses, eyes glancing at his older brother with wary regard, ears twisting back as Flickerfire's situation was, once more, brought to where the whole clan could hear, parroting what Smogmaw already said. But what sent a hollow rock resting in Nettlepaw's stomach, the thing that made the bristly young tom-cat's eyes flicker with fear, was hearing his brother confirm that they'd continue hunting on Thunderclan territory. Crossing those damned thunderpaths, over and over, and over again. He could see it now, one of his littermates, in a hurry to flee from that damned forest and stumbling onto the path... and frustration overtook him. Needle-like claws slipped from his paws, stubborn, dirty fur beginning to bristle as he glared at the older brother, grinding his teeth. He wanted to say something, it was clear in the way a muscle twitched upon his shallow jaw or the way his tail tip ticked behind him, but he didn't. He just stared, angrily, at Pitchstar. "Let's go, Poppypaw. Seems my sister will continue being busy for the rest of the season."

"speech here"

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OOC Tags

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  8 Moons | Angsty | Anti-Authority | full biography​

  
  General Information
  - NETTLEPAW, Transmasc (He/Him)
  - 8 moons, ages with littermates
  - Apprentice of Shadowclan, clanborn
  - extra info
  
  Appearance
  Small spiky-haired, chocolate-tabby-and-black chimera with low-white and stark green eyes , reference by me(angelkisses) | 100% physical health, 76% mental health
  - smells like mud, wet-animal, filth, and just plainly gross
  - injuries, if applicable
  
  Mentality & Interactions
  - INFP, Chaotic Good
  - values family, equity, mercy, and respect
  - finds it sort of hard to trust others but mostly because he's focused on his family and ensuring they are protected
  - fears the thunderpath; has a resting bitch face
  - will start fights / may flee / likely to show mercy
  - skilled in stamina based skills | very weak in strength-based skills
  - attack in underline
  
  Relations
  BRIARSTAR xx AMBER | mate to [who] | crushing on [who]
  Littermate to Starlingheart, Lilacpaw, Marrowpaw, Twilightpaw, Ravenpaw, Dustpaw | Younger sibiling to Pitchstar, Lichentail, Adderjaw, Hollyfrost
  children, if applicable
  
  ​

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