camp how long must i wait? - intro

[minnowpaw.]

It wasn't that Minnowpaw wasn't enjoying her apprenticeship. Her mentor was lovely. She was learning a lot. No one could say that the silver tabby wasn't proud to be an apprentice of RiverClan, or grateful that a series of kittenhood accidents hadn't impeded her progress along the way.

She just longed for the day that Cicadastar would call her forward and announce to the group her new name and best traits. The scene frequently permeated her wandering thoughts and dreams. It didn't help that she found most of her peers annoying, having preferred the company of adults since she was a kit. Since she was so early in her journey, too, menial chores around the camp weren't making it easy either. On days like this one, it was so bad that Minnowpaw was certain that the acrid taste of mouse bile from tick duty would linger on her tongue until she retired to the elders' den herself.

Still, the young feline knew much better than to protest about such matters, having seen firsthand that whining apprentices were rarely awarded outings. Say what you would about Minnowpaw; she was overeager, hyper-competitive, and uptight, sure, but never complaining. Instead, she chose to decompress from a morning of crunching fleas and placating crotchety cats by clearing out old moss from her nest, rolling a neat ball of stale plant matter with a single white paw. ​

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[SMOKESTAR]

"Minnowpaw..." It is stated as a calm greeting, thought there was a curious edge to his tone wondering why the usually eager apprentice was sitting in the camp and not out on patrol or hunting with her mentor. Smokethroat knew the look of boredom well, he had worn it for several moons while his kits grew and they would be apprenticed within the next to finally free him of the burden of camp delegated duties alone. It had been a struggle from the beginning to keep his restless paws from wandering and he was sure it was how most apprentice felt when not permitted out onto the territory. When the clans formed he had been an adult then, well over the age to be trapped in camp and set about menial tasks, so he never had to experience what it was like to be an apprentice - it was something he was quite thankful for. Not being able to come and go as he pleased would have made his younger self impulsively reckless and prone to misbehaving certainly, he'd had quite the temper back then that was only barely still around in brief bursts of anger he was much more skilled in controlling.
"Taking a break?" The dark tom finally asks, whiskers twitching as he awaited a response; it was a carefully guarded question, not accusatory but he did want to know where her mentor was and why she was still here in camp. A free day? A brief reprieve from duties as a reward or punishment? It was his duty as deputy to keep tabs on the training of their youth and he took it very seriously.
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[minnowpaw.]

Minnowpaw looked up as she was addressed, apparently not startled at all to have run into the deputy. She didn't know Smokethroat very well, but she knew that he was a good deputy. What criteria she had based the judgment on was vague and nebulous, but the apprentice judged it to be sound anyway. What could one trust if not their own gut, after all?

"My mentor's busy with something," she explained, pausing her chore to give Smokethroat her full attention. It was very important to be polite. Frazzled whiskers twitched just so as she pushed her ball of moss outside of the entrance of the den. "So I got put on tick duty." What would usually have been said with a groan or whine, Minnowpaw stated matter-of-factly. "But I finished with that early, so I decided to clean out some old moss." Maybe if Smokethroat thought that she was doing a good job, he would tell her mentor and she would get to go out on more important patrols. ​

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[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── It felt ages ago when he thought about when he had been at the age of an apprentice, the youth that grew eager each day to prove their worth. He found them unique and impressive with their attitudes and determination to be given a fitting name that would match the traits they had reflected. For Rookfang, he tried his best to not overthink his old mentor. The jaded male could almost hear the stinging barking orders from his old mentor. He wasn't sure to be grateful or resentful now for the harsh and intense training that the older warrior had given him, whipping into shape in an accelerated manner due to Rookfang not being from clan blood. He did remember the many fights they got into, the scars that hid beneath his spiked jagged fur, and how they led to his aggressive form of combat. He also remembered the disappointed disgusted glares every so often that flashed his direction, as if his mentor had been embarrassed that he had been given a child with not a single ounce of clan knowledge.

Rookfang had believed he had been able to pick up quickly but he supposed not quick enough that when he had been given his warrior name, the elder had simply congratulated him in a curt tone and never decided to truly interact with him again until the tom had passed to Starclan. This had led to a trace of bitterness for being a mentor sprout within him, digging its roots into his self-reflection that he was never to be good enough. Yet, he knew that he couldn't wallow in it, simply waded on the surface until he could find land. So, the lumbering figure of the tom had returned with two fish clamped tightly in his jaws and he dropped them off into the pile, preparing to head out again but overhearing the voices of Smokethroat and Minnowpaw. Rookfang was curious enough to follow in, noticing the apprentice was shifting out old moss into a ball outside the den. He eyed it as he listened. "If you need any help with bringing in new moss, I can help. Might as well bring extra if the elders need theirs changed." He wasn't sure if it would be appreciated or not but he would rather be busy than settle back down, especially with the sickly leading to labor being unbalanced.​

 

[robinheart]

"Sorry Smokethroat, I left Minnowpaw with only a few ticks to take care of today," Robinpaw admits sheepishly as she quietly joins the group, the scent of mouse bile gently wafting from the tortoiseshell apprentice who had been given perpetual tick duty by Cicadastar himself. Such was life after the ordeal she had put him and RiverClan (and SkyClan) through. She does feel somewhat remorseful for "hoarding" an apprentice duty as it causes others to finish their duties early and seek out other tasks. Though Robinpaw feels Minnowpaw didn't mind finishing tick duty early - it is a rather gross task to be completed.

In much the same manner as Minnowpaw, Robinpaw hopes her tireless work will earn her favor in the leader's eyes and grant her permission to leave camp to train with her mentor. Though that day may be far in the future for her. She has long stopped considering what her warrior name might end up being since she assumes she will stay an apprentice for a long time to make up for her disobedience. Dismal thoughts aside, the tortoiseshell listens closely to what Rookfang has to say and nods in agreement. "I can help swap out the moss in the elder's den if you want," she volunteers, knowing that the elders would appreciate some fresh bedding.

 

[minnowpaw.]

With two other cats suggesting that she also take care of the moss in the elders' den, Minnowpaw felt her ears grow warm. How stupid she was to not think of that herself! A paw moved of its own accord, moving the wad of moss in front of her in a small circle. And though she would be happy to accept help from Rookfang, Robinpaw's attempt to weasel into her chores rubbed her the wrong way. Still, it would not be a good look to refuse.

With an almost imperceivable breath, the silver tabby nodded. "Thank you!" she chirped, forcing enthusiasm to mask her apprehension. It's not that she didn't like Robinpaw, but her punishment had not gone unnoticed by Minnowpaw and made her uneasy to be around the other apprentice. "Their nests didn't look too bad, but they probably would like some fresh bedding." ​

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[CARP-PAW]

FIGHTING IT IS HOPELESS ————————————​

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Carppaw was.. perhaps the opposite of her sister. Far more enthusiastic and easy-going, an explosion of questions, and on her best days, a good friend. Not to say her sister wasn't a good friend, quite the opposite. Carppaw had just returned from outside of camp- doing only Starclan-knows-what which Snakeblink had assigned, when she spotted the gathering of cats near Minnowpaw. Her head cocked gently, and she padded towards them.

Warm greeting was chirped as she bumped her side softly with Minnow's. "Goooood after-sun-high! What are we talking about? Oh, moss nests. That's cool and good, I saw some moss collected up by the river a few tail-lengths from that big rock." Carppaw stated, her eyes blinking between all of them before back towards Minnowpaw. "Maybe Rookfang and ourselves can go get it together? I can get Snakeblink to come too." Carppaw bobbed her head, not unkind to that of a fish finding the surface of water and disappearing under the depths again.

"speech"
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——————————————————————————————— sinkin' in your ocean ​