private FAULTY EQUIPMENT [crabpaw]

[iciclefang]

In truth, if Iciclefang had wanted a real update about her son's progress with his training, she'd have gone to Cicadaflight directly — and, no doubt, in time, she will. But she sees Crabpaw trudging across camp, bone-tired, paw-sore, and she calls to him: "Crabpaw! Come, eat with me, will you? Pinepaw caught this, and I can't finish it by myself." Though her tone is friendly, it brooks no room for argument. She waits until her son has settled his cream-ribboned bulk near her before she pushes the trout toward him, letting him take the first bite.

She takes a long moment to admire him — under Cicadaflight's tutelage, he has grown. Real muscle ripples beneath that red-striped pelt. Iciclefang almost does not recognize her sons, who had been removed from her care and placed under the oversight of other cats; with Pinepaw, she faces her every day, sees the improvements, the failures, the attitudes. But Crabpaw has begun to grow up without her, and she feels something almost desperate begin to drive her as she watches him eat.

"What are you working on with Cicadaflight? I feel like we haven't talked in so long." She tilts her head to one side. Is part of that her fault? She's been so wrapped up in Pinepaw's training, in her duties as Lichenstar's lead warrior — has she neglected her sons?

But I am only their mother. I am not their mentor. It feels strange to admit that, but... that is the life they all lead, now. Cragpaw and Crabpaw have divergent paths. It is no longer up to her where those paths lead.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: @CRABPAW
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 28 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Pinepaw ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.

​

 

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 He's tired. Exhausted, even. There's gotta be cracks in his paws, Crabpaw thinks, from how much walking and running and training he's had to do. Cicadaflight is a good mentor—but maybe he's a bit too good for an apprentice like Crabpaw. He can't seem to keep his tail still enough, his paws steady enough, his attention focused enough. The older tom's cuffs aren't meant to injure, only to correct, but still the ginger tabby feels like his ears might just fall off someday, with how many times he's been hit over them. (And that thought brings about memories of a dark-furred warrior dropping a pair of ears at the paws of a traitor, a message delivered in blood.) He pushes it away, determined to hold it under the river's water until the bubbles stop. Until it dies.

His mother's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and finally the boy perks up a bit. How could he refuse the allure of food, especially food shared with his mother? The knowledge that Pinepaw had caught the fish that would now feed them hangs dark in the back of his mind, but… well, they can't all be good at hunting, right? He's happy for his sister, even though she has everything that Crabpaw wanted. "Um, okay!" He chirps out, changing course to trot over and greet his mama with a smile. It settles strangely across his muzzle, not quite as bright as it would be if it weren't weighed down by his tired, dragging paws. He's been getting better, he knows—there's a broadness to his shoulders that's only just starting to show, a more bulky silhouette forming beneath sun-bright fur. Despite his exhaustion, his hard work is getting him results.

The trout is offered to him first as he takes a seat beside his mother, and for a moment mossy green eyes widen in surprise. He's never really realized… how big he's getting, now. He's not a tiny kit pressed against the lead warrior's side, not anymore. But he still feels small in comparison to his mother, and definitely in comparison to Cicadaflight. He takes a bite of the trout, chewing it carefully before barreling on to answer her question without swallowing. "We're working on battle stuff. And fishing. I'm not that good at any of it, though… But I'm good at swimming, and diving is fun!" A clumsy attempt to turn the conversation around—he isn't a disappointment, can't afford to be. Not now, while he's getting to sit down and take up all of Iciclefang's attention for himself.

give me a chance ˚𓆛˚｡ a single opportunity

• ooc: —
• 
• CRABPAW 𓆝 he/him, apprentice of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 mentored by cicadaflight
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragpaw & pinepaw
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[iciclefang]

Crabpaw seems eager enough to join her; the tortoiseshell she-cat never sees the bubble of jealousy that simmers under olive-leaf eyes, never sees the darkness beneath her son's sunlight-marbled pelt. A contented smile gently carves itself into her snowy muzzle as he takes his first bite. "We're working on battle stuff. And fishing." Iciclefang nods. Her approval gleams in her blue eyes, though it visibly diminishes as Crabpaw continues: "I'm not that good at any of it, though..."

The mottled warrior lifts her chin, her tone brisk. "Nonsense. You caught a minnow before you were even out of the nursery." She remembers the day well, remembers the pride that had radiated throughout her lean body — and the trudging disappointment when Crabpaw had refused to kill his prey. Is that why you're not good at fishing? Because you still can't take the fish's life?

She purses her lips. "Battling skills take practice. Maybe it would do you some good to practice with your sister." Iciclefang lowers her jaws and takes a bite of the trout. As she chews, she thinks of the way her daughter's amber eyes had glowed like flame under the fading stars, the way her claws had sheared Iciclefang's fur. Pinepaw would teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. I'll make a note to speak to Cicadaflight about it.

Iciclefang shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. "But I'm good at swimming, and diving is fun!" She allows her small smile to return. "You were always an excellent swimmer. I bet you're just like Ferngill in the water. It was what he did best." She reaches for Crabpaw's muzzle with her own, clearing the tiniest fleck of trout scale away from his whiskers. "Have you started battle training in the water yet? Perhaps that will come more naturally to you."

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 28 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Pinepaw ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.

​

 

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 This is nice, he thinks. Being the sole focus of his mother's attention stokes the fire in Crabpaw's chest, burning bright with pride as she reminds him of his first success. He had caught a minnow before he even became an apprentice. The fact that he had sobbed and cried over it as blood filled his mouth… he wants to forget that. So he smiles at the lead warrior as she suggests that he could spar against his littermate. "Maybe it would," he agrees, and tries not to worry. What if she beats me? He worries, because maybe his mother will notice how strong Pinepaw and Cragpaw are getting, and wonder why he's falling behind. Will she be disappointed if he doesn't become a warrior alongside them both? Is she disappointed now, because he isn't progressing as fast as either of them?

Being compared to his uncle is enough to soothe his nerves a bit, because Ferngill is a lead warrior just like his mother, and he's also a cool, strong warrior. At least Crabpaw is a good swimmer, just like Ferngill—but Ferngill is Cragpaw's mentor, not his, so he probably won't ever be as excellent a swimmer as his gray and white brother. But water battling piques his interest, and the boy perks up a bit as Iciclefang asks about it. "Kind of," he chirps, "but I don't think I'm good enough for real battle moves yet. Do you think I'd be good at it?" He pauses for a moment, mossy eyes shifting to meet icy blue. He leans into his mother's caring, comforting touch, appreciative despite the feelings of inadequacy that course through him. "Were you really good at fighting when you were an apprentice?" He knows his mother had participated in the fight over Sunningrocks, so she must have been amazing at it. He couldn't imagine being in a real, actual battle, especially a battle for an entire piece of territory.

give me a chance ˚𓆛˚｡ a single opportunity

• ooc: —
• 
• CRABPAW 𓆝 he/him, apprentice of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 mentored by cicadaflight
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragpaw & pinepaw
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[iciclefang]

"Maybe it would," Crabpaw agrees, referring to the proposed spar with his sister. He seems doubtful, though, and Iciclefang presses her muzzle to his ginger cheek in a brief display of comfort. "Hey. Don't worry about it. That's what spars are for. No one wins every fight." She smiles, for his benefit. "It's your effort that counts. As long as you walked away from that battle knowing you did your best for your Clan, then that's all that matters."

He asks her if she thinks he'll be good at water combat, and Iciclefang purrs. "Of course. That's what you'll do best, if I had to guess. Knock your opponents into water and they won't know what hit them." She tentatively reaches to lick his ear, to feel the velvet of his fire-colored fur part under her tongue. He's grown so much, but in her heart, she still sees little Crabkit, needy and uncertain...

"Were you really good at fighting when you were an apprentice?" Iciclefang chuckles; it's a low, rusty sound, similar to her purrs. "I wasn't bad. Smokestar taught me well, after all. But... I didn't win every battle, either." She tilts her head toward him, conspiracy gleaming in her blue gaze. "I remember... WindClan raided our camp at the Beech Copse when I was apprentice. It was leafbare, and our territory had flooded. They came after us at night. We were unprepared... it was ugly." She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth for emphasis.

"Wolfsong was a lead warrior then, not a medicine cat. He was leading one of those patrols. I stood up to him, and he pinned me right on my stomach and sank his teeth into my neck scruff..." Her eyes go hazy at the memory; she recalls how her muscles had burned, how she'd scrambled to get away, fruitless. He'd been a seasoned battler; she'd only been an upstart of an apprentice. "He chose to let me live."

She shakes the memory away, focusing her blue gaze on Crabpaw's emerald one. "If you can avoid it, never let yourself get trapped, Crabpaw. I want you to defend your Clan with your life, but I also want you coming home after every battle." She smiles — and, again, although it's a touch distant, its full of love for the son she has been so distant from. "But I know you'll do great in your first battle. All of you will."

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 28 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Pinepaw ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.

​