camp HERO GIRL RHYTHM - intro / seeking wisdom

[IVYPAW.]

Most spend their kithoods dreaming of becoming brave warriors. Some have the dream of being StarClan's messenger and the Clan's healer, while others dream of one day being the leader of their Clan, guiding them to glory. But Ivypaw is different - kind of. Sure, she wants to be the best warrior she can be, though if StarClan were to want her to be something else, she wouldn't mind that either. No matter what path the stars wish for her to take, she's certain her goal will be accomplished.

Ivypaw wants to be a hero. She wants to make an impact and she wants to inspire others. She wants her name, her accomplishments, passed down through generations to come. It's a dream with a set destination, but Ivypaw isn't quite sure what path to take to get there.

"What do I have to do to become noteworthy?" the tabby murmurs to herself, green eyes narrowing as she commands herself to think, think, think. She's still not experienced as an apprentice yet, she only has done about a moon or so of training. Ivypaw knows she has many moons ahead of her to try and reach her goal but if she doesn't start working toward it now, she's afraid the opportunity will slip away, never to be seen again. If only she was strong enough to have taken part in...

The battle! Some of the best warriors in the Clan took part in that battle, she could ask them, and even see what her denmates thought!

Her green eyes began to scan around camp, and she murmured once more as she sought out someone that could teach her about glory and honor. "Who's the best choice, who will have the best stories of their accomplishments?"

"Speech"​

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LET'S CREATE AN ARC THAT IS UNIQUE TO US.​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 There is less storytelling in WindClan than the place of his birth, or perhaps there's simply less spectacle involved. It seemed nearly every evening was spent in the dying embers of the sun, gathered 'round each other and laughing at a fond, well-worn tale of the day Troels fought an overgrown red squirrel, supposedly so large it could have taken his head. There was Estrid's glory over a formidable enemy warrior, one bristling with muscle and scars, and how she tricked him into his doom beneath a frozen lake. They all had stories, some frightening, some romantic, and others eulogies for warriors who could no longer recount their own tales with the living.

Naturally, he's intrigued by the chance to engage in more of WindClan's mind-land speeches.

He regards the apprentice with a slightly tilted head, his sole eye measuring. "Do you seek a warrior or a storyteller? Not all are both, and those who are may be more one than the other."
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