i’ve just been hanging at home anyway || brookpaw

[betonyfrost]

POST CODE

• It would be just her rotten luck that Betonyfrost is saddled with an apprentice of all things.
  
  This one already has the look of a wild thing— scruffy brown with a freckle-dappled face. Betonyfrost doesn’t know what to make of him, let alone how to talk to him. She’s never had an apprentice before, nor has she ever been an apprentice. No, Betonyfrost was of-age when Briarstar had decided that they were a clan now, and Betonyfrost had been given a name by virtue of— what? It certainly wasn’t her skill.
  
  Betonyfrost approaches the apprentice, her apprentice, with the same amount of caution one may afford to a snake.
  
  "Brookpaw, isn’t it?" Her voice is the same hush as someone avoiding eavesdropping. Is this strange, what Betonyfrost is doing now? She doesn’t know how to speak with an apprentice, "So, I’m supposed to be teaching— mentoring you. But, ah, what should we start with?"
  
  It’s enough to boil something in her chest. Why should she be the one stuck with this apprentice? Shouldn’t he go to someone with a little more experience? Someone who, ideally, isn’t Betonyfrost? She realizes only then that it is a strange thing to ask an apprentice what he wishes to be taught. Probably.
  
  "I mean, what is it that you already know? That way— that way I know where to start," The smile Betonyfrost offers it tight and does nothing to squint her eyes.
  
  With luck someone will see Betonyfrost’s incompetence from afar and snatch this apprentice away from her.
  
  @brookpaw.​

• "[color=#ddafeb][b]speech[/b][/color]"

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 14 moons | tags​

 

[brookpaw.]

He stepped away from the meeting with an odd mixture of feelings within his narrow chest. A combination of relief at finally being free from ridicule thanks to Granitepaw and an acrid sense of uncertainty ate away at his ribcage, sinking hooks between the bones. He didn't know Betonyfrost, not in the slightest. But he guessed he would feel this way about any other warrior, right? No matter how cold and unwanted his nose felt against hers.

For the moment though, Brookpaw busied himself with rifling through the fresh-kill pile, however small it may be. Maybe he shouldn't eat when there were other mouths to feed, but the stress alone was enough to convince his stomach otherwise. Prodding at a particularly plump frog, he jolted as a hushed voice addressed him from behind. The brown-furred apprentice whipped around to face his mentor, tucked tail betraying his innocent smile. His toothy grin faltered as she spoke, turning into what he hoped looked like a thoughtful expression ― in reality, he looked more like a kicked kitten.

"Um..." he hesitantly started, itching at his front leg with a fidgeting paw. What had he learned? "I can hunt already, but - I'm not the greatest. And I didn't get to a lot of the cool fighting stuff." His ears pressed flat to his head, embarrassed at how little he really knew. "Sorry," he lamely tacked on, ending with an abrupt nervous giggle.​

 

[betonyfrost]

POST CODE

• Betonyfrost tries not to be visibly disappointed. She thinks she succeeds, mostly.
  
  He says he isn't the greatest at hunting, which Betonyfrost can sadly relate to, but she hasn't a single clue on how to address it. She doesn't want to address it. She would much rather be somewhere else right about now, not worried about how her own already frail reputation now hinges on the performance of an undersized apprentice. Betonyfrost tries not to think too hard on the 'cool fighting moves' comment.
  
  "Alright," Says Betonyfrost, and then again, "Alright, alright."
  
  She thinks, but she has never been a fast thinker, and the worry and the anger at the unjustness of it all slows her further.
  
  "Alright," Betonyfrost adds, just one more time to fill the silence, "What about hunting is hard for you...? Hunting isn't just-- it's not just hunting. There's the tracking, the, um, the sneaking up on, and then there's the final pounce." Betonyfrost wonders if she has ever spoken at such length about anything. Does this apprentice-- Brookpaw, she remembers-- does he know the great effort Betonyfrost is making for him already?
  
  "Whatever it is you're having trouble with, we can do, we'll just... work on that part."​

• "[color=#ddafeb][b]speech[/b][/color]"

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 14 moons | tags​

 

[brookpaw.]

His brow quirked in near-confusion as the warrior muttered out several 'alright's in slow succession. Gradually, he settled himself into a seated position, dappled tail flicking back and forth. He wanted to cast his stare somewhere else, maybe back at the frog behind him, or anywhere besides Betonyfrost's face, but he held firm and forced as much eye contact as she allowed. It was respectful, right? Brookpaw didn't dare to interrupt her thinking, assuming she was concentrating hard on a brilliant plan.

Working on what he struggled the most with sounded smart to him, so he nodded seriously once again, mouth pressing into a very serious frown. He clicked his tongue once before he could find the words to explain his predicament. "...Well, tracking and sneaking are easy," he started, grinning at his own skills, before his muzzle returned to a serious pout. "But... the final pounce is hard, I guess. I can't really see good for that. Like ― how far away things are." Was that a good enough assessment? His inability to gauge distances because of his blurred vision was embarrassing to admit, but as long as it was to his new mentor, he doubted she would make fun of him. Abruptly, he bounced to his paws, hopping in place for a moment with excitement. "Are we gonna go train now? And hunt and stuff?" Cool fighting moves could come later, he supposed.​

 

[betonyfrost]

POST CODE

• Confusion muddles Betonyfrost's face a moment before realization gains a slow dawn.
  
  "You can't see well?" Betonyfrost asks, although she doesn't need the confirmation. This is just her luck. Just her rotten luck. How many other mentors had been stuck with an apprentice who couldn't judge distance? What was Betonyfrost supposed to do about this?
  
  She just needs to stay calm.
  
  Betonyfrost nods, as if this is just any other bit of information. She nods for too long, she thinks, and stops nodding in a way that is far too abrupt. Brookpaw sounds so excited to practice, but what is even the point of trying? Was Betonyfrost given a broken apprentice with the intentions of having her fail? Betonyfrost just needs to not be upset. She swallows that boiling thing in her gut, throat bobbing. She swallows and swallows but she just can't, she can't.
  
  "I suppose we can go hunting," It feels, somehow, less like losing control of something. It feels more like she's let go, paws unclenched, "After we can try and climb trees high enough to lick the stars, like they're-- they're snowflakes. Sounds about as productive."
  
  Betonyfrost wouldn't be like this if she wasn't ever given an apprentice. It's hardly her fault. She turns then, jerks her head in a silent command to follow, and ducks through the thorn-covered tunnel and out of camp. She was supposed to be training this apprentice, after all.​

• "[color=#ddafeb][b]speech[/b][/color]"

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 14 moons | tags​

 

[brookpaw.]

He hastily froze in his bouncing and nodded, almost shamefully as she echoed his admission. A flaw, though he didn't exactly see it as such yet. His head bobbled alongside hers, though he stopped sooner and smoother. Her silence worried him, honey-colored eyes searching her face for any sign of well... anything. Though her features were clear now, he had learned to identify her and others from afar through scent and voice. Surely, if he could learn that...?

It took a moment to realize the meaning behind her words, but once it clicked, it was like a slap directly to his face. Brookpaw recoiled like his whiskers had just been singed off, and shrunk into his shadow. His eyes were wide, filled with unmasked hurt for several split seconds, expression dropping as much as his heart did in his chest. Maybe she didn't mean it ― no, she had to have meant it. His training wasn't feasible in her eyes. Did that make him... broken? An unwanted apprentice, no wonder his first mentor disappeared. Brookpaw's mouth twitched, abandoning any trace of his typical grin. His chest felt crushed, about as flattened and constricted as though his body had been plowed over by a monster, ribs buckling beneath the weight of her carelessness.

It hurt to breathe, but he sucked in a stuttering inhale anyway. He couldn't cry, he couldn't get upset. Brookpaw's expression darkened, the cracks of his mask filling with reserved anger. As silent as it may be, that anger was still just as blisteringly hot and blinding as any other. His eyes narrowed as Betonyfrost strutted away from him and through the camp's exit. Jaw trembling and claws digging into the ground when she's out of sight, the mud-furred apprentice allowed himself one moment to spitefully lash his tail. He wasn't broken, even if she thought so. His muscles slackened, his head hanging low as the white-hot anger retreated back deep into the corners of his mind, lurking for another chance to rear its head. Brookpaw reluctantly trailed after Betonyfrost, any signs of a possible outburst erased in favor of a numbed, subdued demeanor.​

 

[betonyfrost]

POST CODE

• Being out in the marsh with the familiar squelch of cool mud beneath her calloused pads does nothing to temper the fire in Betonyfrost's gut. That apprentice has gone quiet in a way she hadn't expected him to-- for the first time, Betonyfrost has snapped at someone and it hasn't been followed with a scolding. It feels good, somehow, like an inhale after a held breath. There has been cinders waiting to spark in her gut from the day she has opened her eyes, directionless flames held back only because she feared the fallout they would bring.
  
  Now, miraculously, there is no fallout.
  
  "You've gotten quiet," Betonyfrost says, and looks over Brookpaw with the same appraising eye as her father had towards her. It hopes, that vindictive, squirming thing in her chest, that Brookpaw feels just as small as Betonyfrost had.
  
  "I shouldn't be snapping at you," She admits after a pause, and wishes with half a heart that she could feel bad for what she's said. Instead, Betonyfrost just wants to know how hard she can push, but leashes that urge for her own sake, "But it's hardly my fault, I just-- I didn't expect things to go like this, and-- the way your eyes work isn't my fault, and I can't be expected to fix that."​

• "[color=#ddafeb][b]speech[/b][/color]"

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 15 moons | tags​