find your voice ʚɞ close call

[Sweetpaw]

————————————————————⊰ʚ･ɞ⊱————————————————————

The thunderpath was dangerous, it was one of the first lessons most apprentice were taught on their initial outings. ShadowClan especially had a poor history with it, the cat his sister was named after, the former leader, had lost every single life she had in this treacherous place; though it had been what lives upon the thunderpath that killed her rather than the odd flat stone path itself. Sweetpaw knew its scent well, knew to keep his paws lifted high so he could feel the slope and unaturally smooth rock under his paw before he stepped upon it fully.

Prey scent, avian, his head tilts up and he inclines it in the direction it came from. A bird hops, flutters, he can hear the wingbeats even from here but the tips of his toes touch the edge of the thunderpath as he moves to crouch and creep forward. The bird was right on the tarmac, boldly bouncing about on the ground that beckoned only with danger.
It might be worth letting someone else try for it in that case, he might trip or miss and end up disoriented enough to not know which direction he is and end up on ThunderClan's side somehow. The pads of his paws vibrate as he remains pressed to the ground, he gives a quizzical lash of his tail as bits and pieces of gravel dance about his feet and pepper his flattened form. It was subtle, but it was a clear indication of a monster though he had not yet heard the roar of it just yet. Was it even visible?

Apparently not, he realizes in horror as fur brushes past him, his paws tingle and his unseeing gaze widenes reflexively, "WAIT-!", Sweetpaw turns to clamp his teeth down on whatever part of the cat he can get a hold of before rocking back on his hindlegs; sending them both tumbling backwards into the ditch right as the monster he had heard whipped by with a loud buzz as though a dragonyfly flitting through the air; it was muffled, the wind rushed over head with significant force to reveal the speed with which it had careened around the bend. No cat would have noticed that in time to move if they had waited long enough for it to pull into their line of sight. The dark furred apprentice heaved for breath where he'd landed in a pile with the cat he had possibly ripped some fur out of without meaning, "Are you okay?"

ʚɞ ･ﾟ･ sweet like honey - little yellow bees ʚɞ ｡･sweet honey nights & golden honey days

• OOC - Feel free to be the apprentice he grabbed to save!
  Mentor Tag - @FORESTSHADE
• 
  
  
  Sweetpaw
  —⊰⋅ Apprentice of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ They/Them
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH Solid black w/golden eyes (Is Blind)
  

​

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

For the son of ShadowClan’s greatest hunter, Screechpaw’s own success rate is minimal. He blames it on a multitude of things, of course — he always does — but, today, he hunts with his mother nearby. Today, he wants to make sure he catches something good.

The stench of the thunderpath nearby is thick in the air, but it doesn’t stop the apprentice from catching a bird’s scent. It’s odor is thin in comparison, a small trace he’s lucky to grab ahold of, but it isn’t long before he catches sight of the bird’s flight. He crouches, following the bird’s path with a narrowed gaze. It’ll be a good catch — his mother will be proud of him.

His focus is locked on the prey, and what pride it will bring. His mother will be proud, he reminds himself again as he draws near, as grass beneath his paws dwindles and rocky terrain follows. Chilledstar will be too.

The bird pauses, and so does Screechpaw, claws unsheathed as he stands in wait. He crouches down further, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and —

“ WAIT-! “

His littermate’s shout startles him and the bird. He ruined it! He ruined his catch! Screechpaw swiftly lifts his head, aiming to turn to look at Sweetpaw. But it’s not his brother he sees first, but bright lights coming his way, a rumble under his paws that he’s too late to notice. His eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth to shout, to scream, to make any sort of noise above the fear bubbling up his throat. It’s too fast, too big. Screechpaw shuts his eyes tight, bracing for impact, for pain — for Sprucepaw and Nettlepaw.

Pain comes, but a snow-freckled friend and a smiling rival do not. Pain shoots up his tail and a shout finally arrives, his paws staggering backwards by the sheer force, at the sharpness of grass beneath his paws again, at a sibling collapsed beside him. He’s alive. He’s safe.

Sides heaving, and eyes still blown wide, he looks to his blind littermate beside him. His littermate’s question is muffled under the ringing in his ears but Screechpaw moves to nod against Sweetpaw’s shoulder anyway. “ I… I think so — You… I think you saved me. “ he croaks out, thought he isn’t too sure of his state outside of the shock cast over him. He just wants to cry, just wants his mother. “ Th-Thanks, Sweet. “​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  SCREECHKIT ‣ SCREECHPAW
  ── Apprentice of ShadowClan
  
  ── Forestshade x Vulturemask
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A black/red tabby chimera with mismatched green eyes.
  ── Mentored by Chilledstar
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

​

 

[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.

Each time ebony paws were made to venture out towards the Thunderpath, Briarpaw hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that there would be something horrific awaiting her as of late.
Luckily, today seemed to smile down upon them in the form of a bright blue sky and a sun-warmed path, the mud packed down enough to not leave a sticky residue between the young mollys claws.
Sweetpaw and Screechpaw are off somewhere, and Briarpaw has to force down every instinct to hover after them. Their mentors were present, and she was trying to give them more space with age.
She doesn’t notice the duo has crept towards the river of scorched stone, she doesn’t see Sweetpaw grab Screechpaw just to time to send them both tumbling down a ditch.
All she hears is WAIT-, just in time to see Screechpaw disappear in the wake of a rumbling monster. Instinctively, the youth cries out for her brothers, racing for the Thunderpath.
Where are they? Where are they?
Frantically Briarpaw races along the rocky bank to where she saw them last, bile rising in her throat at even the thought of seeing them squished like a bug on the blackened rock.
Are you okay? … I think I’m okay.
Quiet chatter sends the ebony apprentice diving into their shared ditch, relief and worry burning like white-hot embers in her chest, reflecting in a narrowed gaze.
Forepaws grab for Screechpaw first, eyes examining her brother before pulling him in to a tight embrace, her tail extending to Sweetpaw as she takes a moment to thank the stars for both their lives.
"What were you thinking?!" The eldest sister demands, still locked in her embrace. Her head shakes, but her tone doesn’t hold any true anger or disappointment.
"Are you hurt at all? Both of you." A pointed gaze turns to Sweetpaw as she withdraws, looking between the two expectantly.
Despite Sweetpaws miraculous save, Briarpaw cannot tame the anxious thrum of her heart. For moons, they had been a nuisance-
A hindrance to her success, a relationship with Forestshade.
But I almost lost them.
The thought alone makes her want to scrunch her features up with emotion, though out of pride she refuses.

"speech"
​

♕ —

•  

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

For four moons, Forestshade has trained her kit. Her earliest and most focused lesson? Staying the hell away from that StarClan-forsaken thunderpath. It had been what Briarstar focused on most of all when she'd been young - as a blind cat, the most important thing is staying away from a danger you cannot see. Four moons in, she doesn't think she needs to worry about Sweetpaw falling victim to the same fate her first mentor had. They know better by now. So she leaves her apprentice to his hunt and stalks off nearby, following a faint trait.

She is in a crouch, preparing to leap when the shout echoes through the pines and frightens off the bird who'd been pecking for worms in the mud. "Sweetpaw?" She instinctively mews, recognizing that voice immediately. The she-cat whirls around and hurries back towards the direction of the sound, going as fast as she can without losing her way and running face-first into a tree. As she draws closer, she can hear Screechpaw's mumbled voice. Oh stars, it was him on the thunderpath.

"Is everyone alright?" The mother circles her three kits once, blind eyes wide and jaws parted so she can quickly scent out which one is her son. She noses at him, grateful to find no scent of blood. After which, of course, she bares her fangs and cuffs him over the ear. "What in StarClan were you thinking, waltzing right onto the thunderpath? Do you know how many cats have died on that stupid piece of rock? I oughtta have Chilledstar dangle you by your tail right from the tree over his den as punishment!" She hisses, allowing a moment for her bristled fur to lay flat again and a sigh to leave her. "But I won't," She finally mutters. Covering for him like she always has, it seems. She doesn't want him to be put further behind in his training due to punishment. "Just stay away from that thunderpath."​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

of all the places to play near, to be around and not paying attention, the thunderpath is not one of them. they have seen enough of this place for nine full lifetimes and yet they have to keep coming back. they're only glad they're not scraping their apprentice's body off of the asphalt. it was horrifying enough with having to watch briarstar die over and over and over again. how sickening. how... uneasy it makes them to be back. they swear they can still hear pitchstar screaming for his mother. they shiver at the thought before turning their attention to the problem at hand. he's probably heard plenty of scolding from his mother. they bite their tongue.

"listen to your mother. i do not wanna see you any more than two full fox lengths close to this damn death trap. got it? now... you've... you've been scared enough. are you alright? all of you?"

they gently make a point to sniff all three of the apprentices, ears pinned back. they smell of the oil that slicks the roads, and perhaps a bit of fear, but nothing more. thank the stars it was not worse.
​