private I GOT EYES EVERYWHERE | rumblerain

[PRIVETFROST]

"Teach me." Privetpaw stared upwards at his new mentor, fern-green gaze rounded in owlish curiosity, as though his eyes had been whetted and chiseled into beaming jewels. The morning had been young yet, with dew stuck to the ends of verdant skin, but the wine-dark apprentice had already been up. He had to be, if he were to be Duskclan's star. Blinking away any exhaustion that gnawed at the edges of jewel glare, he said nothing more for a few moments. He sat down politely, though his posture was poised and dignified like he had lionized himself and his still-downy frame, had melded jagged mountains from fleecen clouds. Rumble had taken him to a clearing, though he hadn't a clue what they intended to instruct him on. Regardless, he had his own ideas of the curriculum he was to undertake. "I want to know the quickest way to kill a cat. You aim for the neck, correct?" He prattled on to his poor new mentor, his curiosity like an importunate itch, an ache digging into the heart of the sagebrushes. As though the woven stories of war were nothing more than a plaything, another stage to act out upon, he thought of conflict as casually as one thought of breathing or eating - it must come just as naturally to all beasts. He needed to learn, and do so quickly if he were to defend the honor of his kin.

𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 ── X ── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

• young sheldon if he was evil / @RUMBLERAIN
  
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  —— PRIVETPAW / He/Him / 4 Moons
  —— Apprentice of Duskclan / Mentored by Rumblerain
  —— Wine-dark and white-tipped, almost like a magpie. He has black fur except for the tips of his ears, his muzzle and chin, a blaze on his chest, bottom portion of the legs, outer end of the tail, and along the upper ridges of eyes. He has ghost striping that can only be seen in certain sunlight. He has fern-green eyes.
  —— Cool, calculating, and much too mature for such a young age. Enamored with the life of a warrior and burdened by the expectations of his people. Hard to befriend and harder to maintain a steady friendship with.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[RUMBLERAIN]

Rumblerain, unlike their apprentice, often seeks to avoid the earliest parts of the day. It's much more pleasant to wake with a gentle sunbeam streaking across camp. However, contrary to their favourite way to wake, the unending pressure as DuskClan's deputy demands otherwise. It doesn't help that their apprentice is an early riser, seeking to search the tail-end of nocturnal trails instead of waiting for the challenge of long grass and diurnal prey. They look to him and they see ShadowClan, surprised that Granitepelt had not taken him under his own wing.

Then there's the matter of Privetpaw's endless questions. They don't bother Rumblerain so much, Privetpaw usually content with simple answers, but blue eyes sharpen with this morning's query. The dew has yet to depart from long grass and gorse, it's far too early to be asking for how to kill a cat, and yet here they are regardless.

"The neck. Cats are just too-large prey, if you think about it enough." Rumblerain confirms. It's morbid, perhaps unusually so for the night-dipped deputy, but there's nothing sans for a faint irony to their voice. They're thinking about it too much.

"But like any good predator, cats will fight back." Rumblerain whirls on their apprentice, claws sheathed but aiming to knock him off-balance, paw stopping just shy of Privetpaw's throat if they are successful.

// thanks temp i hate it<3​

 

[PRIVETFROST]

Too-large prey. Fern-green eyes glittered with such a revelation, like the light of fleet gaze toyed with such simple information, a delicious morsel to roll around in one's gluttonous maw. The white-tipped tom still stood a little below his peers, but he quickly grew into the shoes that had been carved for him since birth, melding into the actor's role he must play out. Soon, he would be strong enough to make the enemy beg for his mercy. Soon, none would be able to stop him. Privetpaw imagined himself aiming swiftly for the gossamer throat with swift claws, sanguine gushing out like the boy wished to hunt and not to fight, to display the cadaver of the fallen as a suntouched trophy and not as a just opponent. Vocal chords welled up in blood, there would be no chance to speak of the living when one was already at death's doorstep. Pinprick claws dug into the soft earth below, curling inwards like the blade-eager talons of the swooping hawk, though he had moons and moons to go before he ever reached such infamy as the raptor. He wanted it now. Impatience riveted through him like electricity, and the days had seemed to pass like they swam through a mellow honey sea, never standing still yet never granting him what he wished. One day, he vowed.

His distraction had cost him his balance - and, in a real fight, his life. The wine-dark apprentice stumbled backwards, boyish countenance whittled in surprise by how rapidly Rumblerain had struck, and how seamless that they transitioned from two states of being. It must come with moons of constant training. "I see." Privetpaw mewed as his gaze seemed to burn straight into the seal point's pelage, the silent flick of a reedy tail a promise to surpass his mentor one day. Privet respected Rumblerain now, but he viewed this mentorship as a temporary impasse to surpass, a test of wits and bouts before he would be reborn and recast as Duskclan's star. "Surely, there must be a way to disable a cat before they fight back. Perhaps I should claw their eyes out. The combination of disorientation from lack of sight and the sheer pain of losing such a sensitive part of the body is sure to get me closer to victory." Conquest was a mere game to the naive Privetpaw, as though it were a race that he could simply run quick enough to win, or a system he could weave through to attain his prize.

𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 ── X ── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

• OOC:
  
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• 

  —— PRIVETPAW / He/Him / 6 Moons
  —— Apprentice of Duskclan / Mentored by Rumblerain
  —— Wine-dark and white-tipped, almost like a magpie. He has black fur except for the tips of his ears, his muzzle and chin, a blaze on his chest, bottom portion of the legs, outer end of the tail, and along the upper ridges of eyes. He has ghost striping that can only be seen in certain sunlight. He has fern-green eyes.
  —— Cool, calculating, and much too mature for such a young age. Enamored with the life of a warrior and burdened by the expectations of his people. Hard to befriend and harder to maintain a steady friendship with.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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