- May 17, 2024
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𖤓 ✟ —— a stickler for rules, it is known to be unlike kitepaw to do things that he is not supposed to do. he is quick to defend what he thinks is right, he is quick to pick the side of 'righteousness' even amongst the quarrels and rash decisions of his fellow clanmates. it's for those reasons that kitepaw finds himself thinking. questioning. it keeps him up at night, as does the constant stinging of his pelt from the fateful battle nights prior. both distractions that leave him tossing and turning and writhing in his nest, disrupting the sleep of the other apprentices alongside him. this is why kitepaw, instead of retreating to his nest as the sun slips down the sky and turns blue into the color of flame (he wonders if he could ever look at a sunset without recalling the memory of flame, real and alive, licking at the grass and rhe shrubs and the prey, consuming everything in its path), slips out of camp without consulting his mentor… nor sunstar, nor scorchstreak, nor anyone for permission. he needs clear his mind, focus on the thoughts that bothered him… make sense of them. justify them.
he had never known sootstar like the others have. her name was spoken upon his ears with hatred, his memories of the leader clouded by kithood. he hadn't experienced her reign, but he could undoubtedly believe that sunstar was malms kinder and just and peaceful… better than her. he was brave, strong, proud… he stood up for windclan, lost his leg, his son… kitepaw has never experienced such opposition, such loss. he cannot even try to imagine what sort of pain that the golden tom was going through, what thoughts were going through his head…. to cause such a stir with everybody at the gathering. all five clans witness to windclan's rash decisions. nor could he imagine what had been going through bluefrost's head when she had crossed the thunderpath, searching for frogs and lizards that he doubts anyone could stomach, hungry or not. he could not imagine what had been going through bluepool's head when she had dragged dimmingsun and slateheart with her to riverclan, justifying their kills because the river is full and plentiful. kitepaw can not understand.
he loves windclan. he loves his clanmates. he loves his home. he loves the open moors. he loves chasing rabbits. he loves sleeping under the stars. he loves helping around. he loves almost everything that his home has to offer him, but he hates when one thought continuously comes back to haunt him. "is windclan the problem?" riverclan killed bluepool. bluepool had been trespassing. she did not deserve death for her crime, and it was murder. but it was she who had stepped foot on riverclan land and stolen prey that did not belong to windclan. he knew that she had windclan's best interest in mind, but it was her foolishness that had her killed. she chose to break the warrior code, rules that were implemented for a reason. the own nagging at his stomach at present reminds kitepaw how hungry he was with the prey running scare across soot and ash, but why choose clan lands? he would travel across the ends of windclan's territory and further to seek prey beyond their borders… within the lands that belonged to no cat. surely the grass was lush and full beyond horseplace. if sore legs and long travels meant the uphold of laws and the preservation of life, kitepaw would suffer.
his thoughts carry on alongside his feet, and he hardly pays attention to where he is going. the bubbling of water perks his ears and brings him back into the present. "riverclan’s border." why did he lead himself here, he wonders? in the distance looms the bridge crossing over the water, and he recalls the sight of gracklestep, cold. wet. injured. dead. unlike bluepool, gracklestep hadn't been deep within riverclan's territory. stepping onto the bridge did not warrant his death and murder. how could he justify that? how could he justify the release of slateheart from the twoleg traps only because of his attempt to help a riverclanner at this very spot? had riverclan allowed for the loss of spotpaw and sunflowermask? they had gone missing around the same time as slateheart had, and kitepaw, although he had no proof, was bent on the thought that they had been snatched by the greedy paws of twolegs and left to suffer. they did not help riverclan as slateheart had; their loss would be a joy to the fisheaters, just as gracklestep's was. and bluepool's was.
"the bridge." it seems to be the place where everything bad happened. it's in this moment that kitepaw finds himself uneasy. afraid. was he going to be next? was his corpse strewn through the reeds the fate of the next patrol to find? they would be left to wonder what happened, why he was here, why he had left. his death would be the result of broken rules. ha! how funny was that? the very thought that drove him crazy and plagued his mind, how following the rules would have kept him alive. it's this sudden realization that causes him to calm his thoughts and focus on his surroundings. he was still young after all. he fears that he stood no chance if he were ambushed. maybe he would have a moon earlier, but he had thought gracklestep capable of holding his own. he had thought bluepool capable of holding her own.
it is when he sees a soft movement, a flicker of silver fur across the river that kitepaw feels his heart stop. "someone is here." it was his fault, he knew he should have come later when the sun was down and riverclan would be asleep, too tired to check the border. but he'd thought it a better idea to skip out during the changing of the camp's guards… even if caught, he could make up a rats assed excuse that his mentor had sent him to do some last minute…. moss gathering? or perhaps he was told to retrieve a piece of prey that had been buried for later retrieval and forgotten. he'd bring something home with him tonight to make it more believable. who would question him? kitepaw seemed to never willingly get himself into trouble. however, later at night…. he couldn't think of a reasonable excuse. but that meant that just as he was out this evening, so was riverclan. and so it seemed. he keeps himself low, crouching amongst the small patches of reeds and river grass, allowing himself to see what sort of threat he faced. how many cats… he prays to starclan it was not an entire patrol.
and starclan rewards him.
there's just one (that he could see, at least) and she appears young. no more older than he. dainty. a striking pelt of silver, sleek and kempt. her body reads no malice, no longing for violence. and so kitepaw rises up, catching her attention with a yowl across the water. "riverclan!" he hissed, fur pricking on end in an attempt to be intimidating. he would not be found by her as a coward hiding in the reeds. he will not be found by her as a passive body. he was not afraid of her. he could not be afraid of his neighbors, no matter how cold-hearted they were—slimy like the fish they ate. "put one paw over this border and you'll lose it." truthfully, kitepaw does not long for violence. his flank was already raw and sore from the duskclan assault, he wanted anything but to fight again so soon. but he would not underestimate her. he would not have the same fate as his clanmates. and so kitepaw remains on his side of the border, veering away from the bridge. let there be no confusion that should he die, he was not trespassing, and that riverclan was as merciless and as cruel and as stray as he had thought—knew—them to be.
┌── ooc
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info ──┐
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@DIZZYPAW :))
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KITEPAW ✩ he/him, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 7.5 moons old
⭃ average sized tomcat with light cream tabby markings. he has a white chest and half face. his fur is a medium length and he has large whiskers. his eyes are a light blue.
⭃ highly religious, stubborn and hard-working, kindhearted and charismatic, honest, diligent, foolish and impulsive when frustrated, will speak out when something feels unjust.
⭃ open to minor and minor nonviolent powerplay / / underline and tag when attacking ⇌ see his bio here
⭃ penned by @DOFFERZ! ⇌ doffloppa on discord, feel free to dm for plots. template credit to vayle.
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