camp FALSE PROPHET ; spar

[CICADAFLIGHT]

He is still almost painfully unsightly; or he would be, if he cared about such things. Which he doesn't. Bulging eyes with hollowed crescents of exhaustion etched in sunken dents of dull black fur beneath them, massive ears set far too low and trailing great clumps of tangled curls, heavy muzzle fashioned with a Roman bend that pokes prominently out from his hollowed face. Ugliness is inherent to Cicadapaw; it is all he has ever known, and without friends close enough to share tongues with, his unkempt black fur only adds to the general atmosphere of some creature dredged up from the riverbed.

At least his body has improved, even if that bent tail still drum-beats against the camp floor. His paws are still far too large, his limbs far too long, his head disproportionately large—but thin sinew and braided muscle has nestled itself where nothing but spare, notched ribs once made their home. The claw-mark rent in his flesh when he had barely crossed the nursery's threshold stands out as a jagged scar against rippling muscles well-hidden below matted curls. He owes it to Iciclefang's merciless training regimen, her high expectations, the work he must do just to earn an approving glance—that, and his penchant for sparring.

"Someone spar me. Claws out," he mews, finishing with a quick snap of fangs by means of invitation. A pause, and the apprentice eyes the shallows bordering RiverClan's island camp, magpie-black claws curling into damp sand. "In the water."

// feel free to volunteer your character as his sparring partner >:)

"speech"

​

 

[Hawkcloud]

Hawkcloud happens to be the cat closest to Cicadapaw when the apprentice speaks up, demanding a sparring session. The she-cat lifts her head upon hearing the young tom's voice, pausing from where she'd been licking her paws and grooming the soft fur on her head. Her wide green eyes blink in surprise at Cicadapaw, watching the way he snaps his jaws, and she thinks the young apprentice almost appears a bit intimidating.

"Claws out and in the cold water?" Hawkcloud repeats, a small smile tugging at the warrior's muzzle as she rises to her paws and approaches Cicadapaw. "You must be eager to suffer," the she-cat muses, shaking her head at the apprentice's demands — but she splashes into the shallows of the river anyways, trying to ignore the way the cold bites her beneath her pelt and instead turning towards Cicadapaw with a defensive stance. "You can go first," she tells the younger tom, her gaze bright and friendly.​

 

[Tidesong]

Tidesong watches Cicadapaw call for a sparring partner, but purposefully doesn't volunteer. Nothing good would come of it if she were to beat the leader's child in a spar. Especially when he's asking for claws out and in the water. What is he thinking, anyways? The water is too cold. Bushy tail curls around her paws as Hawkcloud volunteers, sharing her opinion. She wonders what exactly Cicadapaw wants out of this spar, where the risk of injury and illness is higher than normal. She remembers the yellowcough plague all too well, and she hopes these two do not get sick so soon. She also remembers the bloody massacre that followed their reclamation of their territory. These waters have a habit of running red, don't they? But unlike her coastal home, these waters don't have giant fanged beasts lurking below and waiting for the scent of blood to lead them to their next meal.

Well there are catfish but. Those are different. They don't follow the scent of blood, right?

"You guys look crazy." She teases. "You're gonna be so cold!"

Tidesong decides she will stay and watch. Someone would need to be on standby if any injuries are had to run to Ravensong, right?​

 

[Lilacbird]

mute grey ears perk before flattening in discomfort at overhearing words from an apprentice. the winter bore heavy upon them, so many already injured or posed a risk due to rogues or predators. So of course a gasp of surprise and blue eyes dilated would meet the apprentice and willing warrior.

"Are- you g-guys crazy?!" It was pure shock, her fur bristling a bit as she approached the scene. "You sh... shouldn't b-be doing claws out d-during leafbare..." There was a tone of worry underlaying her soft words, though she was also wanting to bite them back and walk away right now. "Ravensong will have your heads!" She just didn't understand the desire to train with claws out- to sustain injuries from each other, to want to do that.

She gave a small swallow and ducked her head a bit. She felt bad, but it was mostly genuine worry. Especially with the apprentice looking quite... scuffled already, she did wonder if he was okay.

​

 

[bubbleburst]

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

As much as Bubblepaw likes Starlightpaw and considers them to be one of her best friends, Cicadapaw is a bit off-putting. In fact, if you'd asked an unknowing Bubblepaw to point out who might be related to who she would probably pair those two together last. Her mother always told her there is great importance to one's appearance, but never to judge the appearances of others. Cicadapaw, however, makes it fairly difficult. Bubblepaw often finds herself having to actively avoid staring at the elder apprentice's gaunt and angular appearance. Ugly is not the word she would use, but she isn't sure striking could be used in a positive way either.

It doesn't shock Bubblepaw to find Cicadapaw seeking a sparring session in the river during the dead of leaf-bare. Perhaps she owes that (at least partially) to the horrors of watching Otterpaw shred a SkyClan apprentice, or from keeping a watchful eye on WindClan's territory across the river like so many others have. But her attention is still snatched up when he calls for a claws-out sparring session. Tension crackles through the icy air. Bubblepaw has never seen a claws-out sparring session that was not borne out of anger and resentment. The rarely-silent apprentice finds herself enraptured with silent observance.

Hawkcloud steps forward, but Bubblepaw is not relieved. A claws-out sparring match between a warrior and an apprentice...? In the water, no less? Others like Lilacbird and Tidesong say what Bubblepaw is thinking: that they're crazy for doing this, and if Ravensong catches wind he'll absolutely be pissed. A small frown forms on Bubblepaw's face, but her paws remain. Perhaps curiosity has gotten the better of her once again.
​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[SWIFTFIRE]

I'VE LEARNED LOVE IS LIKE A BRICK — Claws out. The request sounded utterly foreign to Swiftfire's ears, the warrior's head lifting from her paws and tilting to one side in confusion. Though the Ripple Colony couldn't be considered quite as organized as the clans certainly were, they hadn't been an uncivilized bunch of cats - not most of them, anyways. Sparring with claws out hadn't been a common occurrence, seen as especially reckless when it could easily leave new and unneeded injuries. She had gotten the impression that Riverclan felt much the same way, but she suddenly found herself struck with doubt. Maybe they were more brutal than she thought, thinking that spars needed to be as close to the real thing as possible.

Her wondering was put to bed by the others that gathered around Cicadapaw and Hawkcloud, the varying levels of shock spreading through them enough to assure her that this wasn't an everyday event. Part of her wanted to protest alongside Lilacbird, though another part got the feeling that doing so wouldn't amount to much. That apprentice doesn't look like he cares much about some wounds. Hawkcloud clearly didn't either, if her own eagerness in getting into the water was anything to go by. Objections seemed like a lost cause, so she instead just dipped her head to both of them, figuring she'd help with grabbing Ravensong if anything went really ugly. "Good luck, you two. Please try not to tear each other open too terribly..." Even a non-medicine cat knew that herbs weren't eager to spring up out of the ground during the chill of leafbare, meaning that any significant gashes would mean a drain on resources that they couldn't afford.

YOU CAN BUILD A HOUSE ✿ OR SINK A DEAD BODY

• 
  ✧ shorthaired blue and red tabby chimera molly with green eyes
  ✧ 38 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ✧ bisexual; currently not looking
  ✧ daughter of lilou and germaine
  ✧ formerly of the ripple colony; loyal to riverclan
  ✧ easy to befriend; desperate to improve the former colonists' reputation
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[shellpaw]

a claws out spar. she hears worry bubbling amidst the older warriors where she plays in the powder snow, sneaking glances towards her spidery white - black cousin where he shambles about the clearing, bent tail lashing. his teeth gnash, click towards the nearest warrior — hawkcloud. they fret and shudder and shellkit lifts herself from the snow, toddles forward on importantly - placed paws to weave her way towards lilacbird. her little skull is tilted up fully, ambered eyes gleaming with wisdom ; riverkit would call her a real smarty paws for it, but she couldn’t let them worry, ” iciclefang says it’s, um.. okay, because it’s only a friendly spar. “ her voice trails, sing - song when her head lowers to watch again with a short, certain nod. they would have to really try, in order to hurt eachother. it seemed right, just coming from the tortoiseshell.

still, something wiggled in her belly when she thought of the red, of the blood smokestar had been doused in when lichentail had brought him home. born of claws and anger and violence, the burning smell of iron and hatred scorching her nose when his body fell from the deputy’s back. this wasn’t that. she tells herself this as she sits, kneads her paws against the ground in quick, rapidfire excitement. a spar wasn’t just fake pretend — cicadapaw needed to use his claws to learn, to grow up big and strong like shellkit would one day. one day, she would be as big as cicadapaw, maybe even as big as iciclefang herself, and by then.. she would have been in plenty of spars. claws in or claws out, it wouldn’t matter. but for now, she would only watch from the sidelines, barely restrained despite the hungry glint in her cousin’s eye.

swiftfire says something about tearing eachother open, and the explicitness draws a side - cut glance from the corner of her eye. hesitance fills her. all the way open?

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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[BEEFANG]

I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS THE MOONLIT SEA — Like a snake does Beepaw slither forward to see a few of her clanmates gathering and she wonders what it is exactly only to see her littermate demanding for someone to spar him with claws out. It makes her stomach twist in the slightest remembering how she had been sparring with Moonpaw once and had accidentally unsheathed her claws during it only to end up hurting the molly, she shoves the memory away deciding to approach her younger cousin, Shellkit, who states that it's fine since Iciclefang would consider it a friendly spar. Her expression unchanging as her feather tail sweeps across the floor gently uncertain if she should correct her sibling but decides against it, if things got out of hand, she would intervene if she must not wishing for Moonpaw to waste her herbs for injuries amongst clanmates.

THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME ✦ BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA

• 

• 
  ✦ shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 7 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ sexuality unknown; currently interested in no one
  ✦ currently being mentored by smokestar
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadapaw and starlightpaw
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[BUMBLENOSE]

Resting aimlessly near the bank her attention is immediately grabbed by the commotion to her right. Spotting the black and white frame of Cicadapaw calling out from the rapids. What the... Eventually, the dots snap in place and her maw falls into a grimace. Sparring these days seemed vastly more violent and rowdy. Her own past spars leaving bad impressions to the ebony molly but still her curiosity gained priority as she strode forward. Tufted ears held high and swinging every which way to catch wind of the session. Squeezing in to the line of gathered cats her green gaze blooms wide as two cats prepare to tango in the depths. Have they lost? Bumblepaw's maw falls open in disbelief watching with a shiver racing up her own pelt at the thought of fighting in chilly waters. Realizing the pair-up, it makes her stomach flip with unease as a warrior takes on the challenge. For a change the molly sits this one out and leans back. Who was she to tell a warrior no, and if Cicadapaw sought a tough challenge she couldn't say it wasn't a creative method.​