pafp FEEL IT IN THE FUTURE, SEE IT IN THE CULTURE ✿ name talk

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

Newleaf had well and truly rooted itself to the forest, and Daisyflight relished the sun that came with it. There was still far too much rain about for her liking, but days like today tempered her irritation. Heat flooded the air in a silken haze, noticeable when out in the clearing. The sun-mapped quills of the pines dipped their olivine tips into the breeze, animating the jagged shadows that bled onto the camp’s walls.

One eye shut to the noonday sun, the molly gave an unhurried glance over the other cats around. A flash of amber brought her pause- Figpaw. With a lift of her creamy paw, Daisyflight waved her daughter over. In the stark light, it was unavoidably clear that her kit was no longer a kit. She and her siblings were almost at warriorhood, a fact that had snuck up far too quickly.

"It won’t be long until you’re a warrior, name and all." A pale check was offered in greeting, purr heady in her throat.

A thoughtful hum followed it- what would her warrior name be? Daisyflight had chosen her own name, lucky to have it fit within whatever standards starclan called for when the clans grew structure. She had never really considered how odd it might feel to be dubbed something foreign at the word of someone else. Thankfully, Blazestar had good taste as far as she could tell. "Figfire, Figshine… do you ever think of your warrior name? What it might be?"

/ please wait for @FIGPAW ​

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[FIGFEATHER]

At her mother’s beckoning Figpaw always answers, and today was no exception. She chirps a greeting and settles down beside the tortoiseshell and soaks in the sun.

A purr of self-pride rumbles in her throat at the mention of her upcoming warrior hood, ”Yep! I can’t believe its finally happening… It always felt like something that would come for others but never for me!” The she-cat giggles, her cheeks scrunching with a wide grin. Figpaw is beginning to anticipate her final assessment, and part of her even wondered if it had already happened… It wasn’t uncommon for mentors to send their apprentices out on missions, only to secretly watch them. She wonders if Daisyflight has heard anything at all from Tallulahwing or Blazestar, if she had, would she tell Figpaw?

Oh, and to have a warrior name! It’ll be so strange to be called something other than Figpaw! It was a little scary, but the tabby was nothing but excited for the day to come. ”Figshine is really pretty! Wouldn’t be upset with that one,” she agrees with a bob of her head. ”I don’t know what I hope for though… At one point in time I would’ve said Figflight or Figwing for… y’know.” She shrugs with a minor pain of sorrow for what had been lost. Ironically those two suffixes bellowed to her mother and mentor, she couldn’t help but find them admirable names. ”But now I have no clue!“ What did you call a SkyClan warrior who couldn’t climb anyways? ”I guess… maybe Figpounce for my hunting abilities? Or Figleap! I’m still a good jumper.”​

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Spoiler: TAGS ★ 03/27

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 11 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Mangled right hind leg.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, distrusting, resentful
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy
╰ ‣ cats of windclan blood or those she deems morally inferior will be met with her ire

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ Pansexual . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Crushing on Fanta
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ good fighter . excellent hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

A rasping tongue hurried over the knotted fur he could reach- a hurried activity, for when he and Quillstrike next shared tongues he wanted to give the taller tom a little bit less work. In his stupor he barely noticed the ensuing conversations around him- not even the soft voice of his former mentor as she beckoned her daughter over. Spitting out a mouthful of matted pelt, it was over the raspberry-bursts of his spit that he heard the name Figpounce- and his head shot up to the sound, a completely irrational worry sparking within him that he might have somehow missed an extremely important meeting. Oh, that was just his luck, wasn't it? Catch the rogue being torn to shreds in the middle of camp, but somehow skip out on the apprentices you'd grown up with becoming warriors-

Or Figleap!

Immediately, that flare of panic was quelled- and his attention was pulled up to the pale-ginger apprentice as she spoke with her mother, rattling off possibilities for her warrior name. Twitchbolt had never done the same, he had to admit- for one, his own parents had never bothered to talk to him about it. And... well, with all that had happened in his final moon of apprenticeship it had slipped his mind to even think about names. Idly, a memory of a sentiment flashed in his mind. "Oh, uh- might be worth picking a spot in the warrior's den sooner rather than later." Twitchbolt had always been a fan of pre-planning, but this was something even he had forgotten to do. It was the best he could come up with in terms of 'warrior wisdom'. "Getting- uh, crowded in there now, hm." A quick twitch- but his smile remained through his speech. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[sheepcurl]

Agh! Everywhere she turned, Sheep had constant reminders that her apprentice would be becoming a warrior here in the next month and quite frankly she was not ready for it. Pride and joy at one spot, but what would she do? Who would she spend her time talking to? She’s just trying to pass by, but shes drawn in to the conversation of the mother daughter duo, Greenpaws mom and sister.

“Sorry to barge in,” she apologizes with a purr, stopping in her tracks she she blinks at Figpaw with warmth in her gaze. “I think Figshine would suit you well! It’s a very pretty name, mija. Figpounce is really cute too.” but she nods towards Twitchbolt, a playful grimace gracing her face. “Yeah it is! We gain new warriors every couple days, you might have to fight someone for a spot.” all joke, she wags her tail behind her as she stands and listens.

 

[GREENEYES]

It's kind of scary to think about, how close he is to becoming a warrior.

Within a moon's time, he'll no longer be sleeping in his corner of the apprentice den, no longer spending his day training alongside Sheepcurl. No, this chapter of his life will soon come to a close. He'll soon be a warrior, soon carry a new name and more responsibilities.

And though his siblings will be beside him, gaining their own names and crowding the warrior den, it still sometimes feels like he's alone in this, like he's the only one going to become a warrior soon. Like Butterflytuft, alone in her own ceremonies. Greenpaw knows this isn't the case, that his nerves just get to him, sometimes.

So, there's a sort of comfort in the unknown, when he hears his mother ask Figpaw about her future name. Greenpaw listens to the names she lists off, all the while thinking of the names he'd thought of for himself.

"Figshine sounds nice," he comments, crooked tail thumping against the ground as he settles to sit beside his mother and littermate. He thinks for a moment, tries to fit the name into his own. Greenshine, that sounds... alright. Figpaw's name fits better though, he thinks. With all the names shared and suggested. He envies that, a name that fits so well with all its possibilities. "I'm sure you'll get something cool!" All his siblings will, he's sure of that.

"I wanna be Greenstrike!" he says, before pausing. One of the names that he's always thought of when imagining his warrior names, it sounds more deadly than he'd imagined, when spoken allowed. It'd always sounded cool in his head when he was younger, but, nowadays? Perhaps not that one then, when his namesake was already ready to strike on its own volition. He tilts his head. "Or... maybe Greenfeather?"

Twitchbolt chimes in about the warrior's den, and, oh, right, of course. "Imagine how crowded it'll be when we get in there!" If it's crowded now, it'll definitely be more crowded when he and his littermates move their nests in. Among the rest of his worries over warriorhood, Greenpaw can only hope he can find a corner similar to the one he's been sleeping in for his whole stay in the apprentice den.
​

 

[Snowpath]

Snowpaw listens nearby but does not join the discussion, ears pinned back and golden eyes wandering from each of his siblings and the others present to what is light and idle chatter on future warrior names but for him only fills him with a horrible dread of which he is not sure the exact source of. Becoming a warrior was monumentous, no longer tied to the restrictions of an apprentice and able to live freely and attend the duties expected of them without being watched over like a gaggle of wandering ducklings.

He thinks of all the names he could possibly be given and none of them really felt appropriate. None of them feel like anything but a curse uttered. Maybe he would stand before Blazestar and be told he was not getting a name, continuing his apprenticeship long past his peers. Or maybe he would be given a name to mark him as the murderer he was still often seen as. Most the clan, even if they didn't like him, had taken the high road and regarded him with neutrality but he could only imagine the horror if he was called Snowclaw or Snowstrike similar to the name Greenpaw wanted.
Nothing suited him in his head, he wondered if something simple might be better. Snowfoot for his white paws...no, the memory of them red was still so present. Snowheart? No..he wasn't so cold. He hoped not anyways, he was trying. Surely it meant something to try? Snow...snow...
All he could think of with snow was how cold it was, how stains were so vivid upon it, how cruel it had been to them in leafbare. He hopes Blazestar is more creative than he is...
​

 

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

Daisyflight met her daughter’s smile with her own, the red tabby’s sunny aspect buoying her already good mood. Slivers of jade followed each flutter of the apprentice’s expression, wavering only at the mention of ‘Figflight’ or ‘Figwing’. She did know, and it made the air in her lungs stale for a heartbeat. But Figpaw pressed on with excitement and so the calico matched her. "Certainly- Figleap would suit well." From what she’d seen of recent training outings it’d capture her skillset perfectly.

A cedar-scratch shape caught the corner of her eye. Daisyflight loosed a hum in agreement with Twitchbolt. "That is has…" Perhaps they’d have to build out, she could only tolerate so many waylaid tails in one spot. The words to offer up such a solution were halted by Sheepcurl’s appearance. At her unnecessary apology, Daisyflight whittled her ears back in disapproval and gave an encouraging flourish to a free spot beside them with her tail.

Idly, the calico took note of Snowpaw sat quietly a few paces away. A mild, questioning blink pulled the bi-colours of her brow low, accordion-like. She tried to respect whatever space he struck out for himself but couldn't help the turn of her maw at him being so orbital.

Greenpaw's chatter brought her attention back around, whiskers atwitch with amusement at his committed, then doubtful, declaration of Greenstrike. "Greenstrike makes a strong impression! Feather is lovely, brings to mind all of those trinkets you collect" His worries of a full warrior's den drew exasperation from the warrior- no kit of hers would go without a good nest.

And then, unable to resist tempting her other son into the conversation, Daisyflight twisted her neck to meet Snowpaw's gaze. "Snowpath? Snowspine?" A playful shrug of her shoulders rippled parallel to her queries. ​

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