IF I HAD THE CHOICE — chrysaliswing

[Orangestar]

At first, she'd wanted to wait until the morning to deal with Chrysaliswing. She's exhausted by this. But it wouldn't entirely be fair to reprimand her lead warriors, but allow the other most vocal source of hatred in her Clan to escape the evening metaphorically unscathed.

"You need to stop speaking poorly about kittypets." Orangestar begins bluntly once they're seated in her den. No preamble, no niceties, though her tone isn't hostile. "SkyClan is stronger for them, and nothing has changed from Blazestar's rule into mine regarding them. They are welcome here, they will face the same trials as any other outsider, and they are not inherently less because they do not sleep here in the evenings." Mostly is left unsaid, attached to the end of her sentence. Her tail sweeps around her paws, and she pulls herself taut.

"For every comment I hear you make, I will not give you an apprentice for an extra half moon. If you continue to harass our daylight warriors, I will demote you to apprentice and give you to Johnnyflame to retrain." She likes Johnnyflame, so Orangestar hopes it doesn't come to that. She isn't sure if she really means it, anyway, but she has to make a point. Her ears twitch back as she continues. "If you continue on past that, I may not find a place for you in my SkyClan. You are a warrior of my SkyClan, Chrysaliswing. Do better."

With that she quiets, studying him. What would he have to say for himself? Would he quietly accept her terms, or explode? Would he try to turn it back on her, like his mentor had? She's left little room for discussion, unlike with her lead warriors.

ooc ✧ 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦

• @CHRYSALISWING
•  
• 
  
  ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
  " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  
  — single ; mentoring springpaw
  — speech is in #E3B2A9
  — art by deja for meme week!
  

​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Ears folded back as shame burned through Chrysaliswing. Even the heterochromatic gaze that was so eager to claw its way through the pelts and eyes of those that it dared lie unto now shirked away from Orangestar. It instead fell limp to the ground and rested there. Disgrace flitted through his pelt like sparks pirouetting from flame, a sort of electricity that razed and wrested through longhaired coat. It crawled through him like insects, pincers poking through delicate flesh, and he wanted nothing more but to shake it all out of his coat. To be lambasted by a regular member of the clan was something he could ignore, for he did not bow to them or did he take orders from them. But to be reproached and chastised by his own leader was something that tore through paper-mache heart deeply, as expected as it was. He hated to admit it, but he was quite sensitive.

Paws thrummed on the ground, and the loud lion of a feline now seemed like a destitute urchin of a cat. The chimaeric warrior was much of an overgrown child, even as he had lived many moons under season's hardship and life's challenges, and yet his beliefs and never been shaken from their core and challenged to its ugly, mangled face. His ignominy had cost him, and though the temptation to bristle his fur and bare his teeth had supposed beneath his skin, he did not act on it. Even in his anger, he knew it was unwise to combat Orangestar, of all cats. "Fine. I'm just stating my opinion. Those kittypets don't have to be offended. Maybe they should grow tougher skin if they hope to survive in the forest." The words simply tumbled out, as though they were the true reflection through the purest mirror of opposition. It was true; the wild was a harsh beast of which mercy was lost upon deep shadow and bloodied fang. There was no place for the soft-hearted or the meek-willed in his home - to him, anyhow.​

 

[Orangestar]

And maybe you should shut your mouth for the same reason, before you have to survive on your own. Orangestar doesn't bare her teeth, though she wants to. Despite the stoop of his shoulders and the way his eyes refuse to meet her own, his words frustrate her. Had he completely ignored everything she'd just said? Her tail twitches, moves to rest at her other side. This is the longest day of her life.

"I am not Blazestar, Chrysaliswing. He may not have noticed, or maybe he hoped you would grow out of this, but I do not have the patience to treat a grown warrior like a prejudiced apprentice." She lets it hang heavy in the air for a moment, and then decides to make good on one of her threats. "You will not receive an apprentice until at least next moon. Dismissed."

ooc ✧ 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦

•  
•  
• 
  
  ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
  " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  
  — single ; mentoring springpaw
  — speech is in #E3B2A9
  — tags | art by pin
  

​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Like an overgrown weed, Chrysaliswing flitted through the ivied walls of his home, a pest evading deft hands of the cultivator. After all, hands dared naught touch the fire bare, lest they be burned at the brunt of his ire. That was, perhaps, one of the reasons why he had become so unchecked. Who was going to tell Chrysaliswing, or all cats, that he shouldn't be so hard on his fellow clanmates? Pointed ears had heard everything of that range, drowning it out as effortlessly as he would tune out the soporific hums of the flies. Besides, any attempts to simmer the flame would only inspire it further. Foul as his words were, he was like a bug that shied away from the prying light of his own actions and consequences. A coward in his own right, a hypocrite of velvet veil and easily-torn butterfly-wing. If he were smothered enough in disapproval, he would surely shut himself down. Though Blazestar had been far from incompetent, perhaps it was a mistaken allowing the tomcat to weave embittered words and knolled bracken into the delicate garden of Skyclan. Now, Orangestar had been left to pluck the pieces that were left.

"Hmph. Fine. I don't want to be a mentor, anyways." Acerbic tone flared, though he held his ire behind the ivory bars of his own jaws, though the temptation to snap further banged upon the backs of his teeth like a bluster of whipping wind. Heterochromatic gaze swam in the words he wished to speak to fruition. Mutters, too quiet to hear except by the man who made them, pooled underneath hot breath. He didn't care about being a mentor - he figured he wouldn't be the most competent one. Even in his wooled arrogance, though, did he realize that this was merely the tip of greater punishment. Mottled tail swished back and forth, knowing that parlaying with the leader of all cats was one of the worst ideas he ever had. Pride was a fickle yet formidable thing, able to wrest his tides and fan his flames. He got up and quickly left, careless in his step. He just needed some air, or water, or something other than this suffocating conversation.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• Out unless Ora stops him :3
  
• 
• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 22 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​