pafp i'm well-trained ⸙ prompt ⸙ play dead

Nov 6, 2023
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⸙͎。˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎。˚⋆

It seemed pretty pointless to drag him around to do stuff when he didn't seem to hold any sort of real talent for being an apprentice. He acknowledged, that in the rules laid out by tongues far older and wiser than he is, that he is plenty old enough now to be a real one- he fits the demands of the new code to boot and had den-mates now that had been the first to benefit from its protection. However... he has had many more moons of practice than they have and fails to really feel like a to-be warrior in any capacity. The closest he'd come was a few exchanged, cowardly swipes on the frozen river and that, for all its barely-passable success, had ended with a heart-gripping fear when ice-cold water had swallowed him whole.

Asphodelpaw... he begrudges... is not a complete ass... and had saved him. Though.. that didn't excuse the part where the older boy had narrowly missed shredding his ears off when he'd shoved him into the shallows prior to that.

It is in this distracted introspection that Valepaw forgets he is meant to be patrolling with keen spring-sunset eyes... There are competent enough warriors here that act alike a parade of body guards and with it being new-leaf, the healthy dose of cautious fear has melted with the warmer weather. His fluffy too-big paws crack and crunch on twigs under-paw, he feels the way the reeds here tug at his long fur like they're hungrily gripping at him, a warning- a pleading like nails dragged across his skin to call his attention back.

I wonder if it's easier to catch a bird, he thinks to himself, staring up at the sparse canopy and the rolling sky far above it. The blue is blinding in its brightness... A perfectly relaxing day... Maybe I can ask Claythorn what her first catch was... Or get her help to get Robinheart something tasty... She didn't seem the super generous-with-her-time type but... he hoped that maybe they were close enough to 'friends' she'd humor him.

"Are you air-brained? There's a-"

Dog.

He recognizes the smell from a time when the shadows were a lot darker... a lot bigger... A monster, he'd called it, slavering jaws that had dripped a ravenous spittle form its impossibly large mouth. It's nose is so wet that when it exhales in what Valepaw can only assume is murderous excitement, he can feel the dampness in that air- he doesn't even recognize the way his whole body goes stiff and even still, doesn't remember striking out with his claws until he sees the rosy welts across a wiry-furred muzzle in front of him.

Whatever pride can be garnered from the successful instinct to attack and defend himself is short-lived, hot air blasted around his nape in a precision that speaks of impatient fury. He twists to sprint towards the blue-black warrior that had tried to warn him ahead of time, lips drawn back in a horrified, prepared cry for help-

The noise is squeaked out of him like he's nothing but a rubber chew toy- sunk around his shoulder with an unnatural pop that rings in his ears so it might never be forgotten. Kicking wildly with his hindlegs at the bottom half of a jaw that clenches down to shake him, Valepaw gasps the moment he's unceremoniously dropped onto the muddy earth and scrambles on the floor like a snake might struggle to slither on silk.

@otterbite

With prey abundant once more predators are also more likely, be mindful as you traverse the territory as foxes, badgers and even roaming dogs may be around any corner...
 
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Reactions: claythorn

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- Teeth snap closed together in an unholy rage that seared beneath blue fur. The patrols peaceful trot in the meadows had turned poorly when one caught the scent of dog. Otterbite had spotted it as his Clanmates spread out to avoid the creatures path- its nose to the ground and big clumsy paws tromping through the grasses.

Spit-venom sights remained locked onto it, digging his claws into loose soil as he tracked its movement. A crackle of twigs took his- and the dogs- attention only to see Valepaw aimlessly meandering where the rest of them had dispersed. A low growl rose from the toms throat and he shouted for Valepaw's attention. It might have been too late for an escape but he could at least not be so caught off guard.

Jaws wrap around striped fur and Otterbite can't hold back the cringe his muscles make when he sees just how desperate Valepaw is to claw back to him, as if he were some beacon of safety. I won't save you. He decided, waiting to see how his former denmate would manage to free himself of the situation he placed himself within.

In the end he's proven to be too much of a hassle for an easy meal, annoying the beast and left a sorry puddle of an apprentice and slobber in the grass. Otterbite paused for a few moments until its tail disappeared behind the ferns and approached Valepaw with a sturdy frown.

"C'mon, get up and walk it off. You're going home." Without Coyotecreek on his tail for every step he was quick to assert an authority he always assumed himself to hold. He doubted Redpath would disagree, anyhow, letting him turn tail at every chance blood was spilled.



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  • OTTERBITE he/him, warrior of riverclan, thirteen moons.
    scruffy blue/black chimera with a white tail-tip and green eyes. noticeable kinked whiskers
    adopted son to pikesplash // former apprentice to coyotecreek
    peaceful and healing powerplay requires permission / / underline and tag when attacking or making an action toward
    see battle info here
    penned by beataegonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
sanctified, magnified ─── He thought he had beat it.

That fear that always clung heavy to him like a heavy night's rain. But how could he when he was now embrace the role of a big brother, the protector of his younger siblings? They had no parents, no compass arrow to direct them to what is righteous and what is wrong. Their bright eyes turned to him and all Rookfang could do was swallow down the bile and provide whatever fragments he could pull that were worthwhile and educational. He knew he should be grateful, to cherish the beauty of finally being graced with the world's time and the blessing of the stars to save the prince that his mother had once again decided was no longer worthy of her time and blessing. The scars that now tickled the barren skin where the fur had once been may have diminished his chances to appear more approachable to others but the reserved tom didn't hold an ounce of regret, the hole within his heart instead had filled. However, that meant it would always be at risk of collapsing within itself and bringing him down with it.

These moments were what reminded him of that bitter fate.

He had been at the end of the patrol, he always tended to be especially during the more active times of the day. The wilderness granted them access to freely roam but it was never just themselves that stalked through the rebirthing foilage, nor were they the only predators. Sometimes, they were very well the prey. His heavy eyelids were set hooded, the blades of sunlight through the territory striking his already impaired vision. He appreciated that they were no longer fallen on their back with the falling snow swirling around them and starvation revealing the ribs of his clanmates, so he knew to keep any complaints of the brighter longer days within his chest and to himself. His eyes, however, kept constantly flickering towards the bounding figure of the cloudy pelt of his brother, ensuring he was in the line of sight since he knew Valepaw was still young and not entirely all here. He knew his dear sibling was a dreamer, with eyes so large and brilliant, it made sense stars danced constantly within the lemon forest pools. Even so, he knew that there eventually would be a bitter time when he would need to bat away at the swirls of daylight dreams and speak of the clarity of the present. He just...didn't want to at this time. His brother deserved more time to be a wanderlust child.

The laundry line of thoughts was tugged when a sudden scent plunged into his senses, his tar pupil eyes thinning into needles as his eyelids flickered. The scent rampaged towards them and before he parted his jaws, the march of chills struck his clanmates and they scattered. Rookfang's instinct was to dash towards the nearest tree, his ancestral blood screeching for his survival but his attention was locked onto the frozen form of Valepaw, the split colors trembling as the dog appeared and scarlet pearls flew into the spring air. No.

"V-Vale?!"

Is that how fast the fox had attacked? There was less blood. No, there was more pain. Yes, he was lying there. Where did the fox go? Where did the dog go?

Why was he always so fucking late?

Rookfang's body moved on its own, but his mind had become untethered. It was floating above his bristling fur and unsheathed claws, somewhere between Starclan and the blossoming trees. All he knew was that his brother was hurt and he had failed him. The large sable male rushed to his sibling, his towering form immediately placing itself to hover in a protective defensive stance over Valepaw's, upper lip curled back to expose the very reason he held his warrior name as his unsheathed claws remained in its loyal position as his thick jagged tail lashed behind him. His heartbeat was barely audible through the rush of adrenaline that seared itself in his slightly trembling form, not out of fear but out of pure chemical reaction bubbling to explode. His widened eyes began to trail down to his brother to focus but the wide stare snapped up to Otterbite once the words fell out into the air.

He stared, hazey vision now razor sharp and looking as if his eyes were ready to bulge out as he seared his locked gaze onto the other chimera. His claws flexed and he felt the prominent twitch of irritation he got with his left ear when he befell into these rare unravelings of his emotions. "Say one more useless thing and I will make sure you never walk again." The threat was spat out, his tongue coated with venom as he glared down at the newly appointed warrior now craving the iron of the other tom's blood. Rookfang dropped all composure, every piece of the placid facade he carried now withered away as if was an ancient artifact. He knew what it was like to take a cat's life. It wouldn't curse him heartache if he tried now again.
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  • OOC |
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  • rookfang ─── WARRIOR of RIVERCLAN [ 03.18.24 ]
    ⊳ scarred seal point/lilac chimera with stormy blue-gold eyes
    ⊳ he/him | 45 ☾ | npc x npc [first gen] | mentoring bumblepaw
    detailed biography | 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 | toyhouse | penned by cheeters
 
⸙͎。˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎。˚⋆

Unexpected stillness followed where he'd expected triumphant, heroic clashing- whatever panicked writhing he committed to was inconsequential where appetite had been spoiled in fresh cut along slobbering lips. But he lays there, transfixed on Otterbite and his steady stare. Not a single claw moved from that spot; he must've believed Valepaw to be far stronger than the boy's own confidence would allow, must've been able to prophesize that the dog would run like a coward the moment untrained paws swiped across its fleshy muzzle. Stars dance in his eyes where the suggestion runs rampant, bolsters him with a courage that had abandoned him in the moment he'd needed it and he obliges that harsh demand with a stubborn set of his jaw.

Nursing his wounded leg with a small amount of hesitation, the searing jade gaze immediately prompting such babying to be drowned in a younger part of Valepaw- a weaker part. For all his fury, Rookfang's hissing isn't matched by his younger sibling, who stares at his own paw with mild confusion, with intrigue; he'd never been properly injured before. Had only ever beckoned for Moonpaw's aid when his teeth had been dropping from his rosy gumline like soldiers leaping into battle.

"I-I'm fine," he promises, daring only to peek at the fang-bared features as he reaches to take a step forward as proof- (he doesn't remember his leg feeling quite so distant before...)- "See I-"

The moment he presses forward the world spins unsteadily and specks of white alike a cloud of dandelion seeds absorb his view- he thinks he's going to wretch, overcome with a chill that makes him feel distorted, out of sorts from the warmth his pelt had just supplied him for this entire patrol. (He doesn't remember stumbling to catch himself- just a moment of black and white fuzz, then the greenness of the grass again).

Discomfort makes a kit of him and childish, cowardly tears well at the corners of his eyes despite the tightly clenched teeth that hide a quivering want to scream. "Moonpaw..." he murmurs, the pinks of his eyeline betraying how sincerely his shoulder throbs in mind-blurring thrums- violent ache. Every breath shifts his ribs- painfully aware of how every tiny action jars it- his vision sparkles, loses focus and he feels himself bump against sturdy pile of corvid-feather fur, is grateful to slump against it entirely as his throat tightens.​
 
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It was coincidence that brought Moonpaw near the small group, her own small little patrol nearby when the tell-tale sign of a dog could be heard and quickly she had shoved herself into the first underbrush she could find, flattening herself down to the ground as low as possible so that her white pelt didn't stand out as much as it normally would have otherwise. Luckily she hadn't seen the dog, hadn't seen it latch onto her clanmate before he was dropped into the mud. After a moment of silence she had crawled out from her hiding spot, shaking out as much of the wet mud and pollen as she could before carefully moving in the direction she had heard the loud barking come from.

Normally she'd be told not to chase down dogs, but if there was a cat that way injured she could help them, and so she trekked on. Fur rose on end the more she walked, ears pricked and swiveling at every small sound in case the dog wasn't actually gone but it was all abandoned when she saw the cats come into view in front of her and quickly Moonpaw ran to them, just in time to see Valepaw slump against Rookfang. Ears pinned to her head as she neared closer, the smell of blood reaching her nostrils just as she saw the glint of red along the apprentice's neck.

Carefully padding through the dandelions that surround them she carefully grabbed some that hadn't been trampled, nose scrunching as she ignored the need to sneeze as white fluff was freed from it's home before moving back over to the trio. "It's not going to taste good but I need you to chew the leaves." She'd speak to the striped apprentice before eyes looked to Otterbite and Rookfang. "If either of you are injured you have to as well, otherwise we need to get him back to camp once he's done." Hopefully Valepaw would chew the leaves without too much fuss to make the journey back to camp a little less painful.

Eyes flicked to Valepaw once more before she moved alongside him, ready to sandwich him between herself and Rookfang once given the chance. "How bad does everything hurt?" She'd ask him quietly, eyes flicking once more to the wounds on his scruff before looking at his face again. It couldn't have just been those that caused the falling reaction she'd seen when she'd come over, and needed to figure out what else it could be so that when they got back to camp she could help him right away. She just hoped she could help.

  • --
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    MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
    FLESH WOUNDS
    ꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
    ACHES & PAINS
    ꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
    ꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
    ꕥꕥ KITTING
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
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    SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
    speaks softly & often found humming
    11 moons old; ages the 17th every month
    homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
    currently being mentored by ravensong
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 


( ) the howling and barking of dogs seems to be much more common as the earth melts and new-leaf arrives. even with only one ear, willowroot has heard the hounds howling while out on patrol, has scented dog from the twoleg encampments along the river. it's truly revolting, and generally makes her feel uncomfortable as she pads through the territory. today is no different- she accompanies moonpaw on an herb gathering patrol, and while she finds herself enjoying the slow ambling pace, she can't help but glance over her shoulder every once in a while.

when moonpaw freezes, cold anxiety floods the warrior's paws and they glance around, eyes widening as the rushing of paws and the stink of dog whisks by. "shit, hide!" her young patrol leader hurries to conceal herself and willowroot will do the same, sheltering beneath a low growing brnach, her dark fur concealing her much better than moonpaw's pale coat. as the danger passes, replaced with silence, wilowroot will emerge, hastily grabbing the bundle of herbs she'd been tasked with carrying. the medicine apprentice has already set off in the direction of the nouise, so the warrior will follow her, ever the faithful bodyguard.

valepaw lies bloodied and broken on the forest floor, surrounded by his brother and otterbite, who looks unimpressed to say the least. "little valley," she breathes, ears flattening with shock. the warrior will move forward, setting her herbs at moonpaw's side before backing up to give the healer her room. verdant eyes flick towards otterbite, questioning and firm. "is the dog gone for certain? otherwise we should go confirm."



  • // " speak "



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  • WILLOWROOT ☼ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING ROBINPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
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    a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smokey long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, with friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape. her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.



 
⸙͎。˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎。˚⋆

Like a page ripped from a storybook by the careful articulation of its words he had summoned her. Had quoted her into existence when she was most necessary; a power he simultaneously feared and grew to respect in equal measures. He had demanded her attention, murmuring her name on a breath of the wind and so she appeared, unfolding in shimmering rays of light and heavenly clouds- the hero of this day of his story. He had done the valiant thing- had fulfilled his destiny that demanded a prince-like decorum, a reckless will that blew like fire through his claws- a righteous flame.

And now he did not need to be that noble justiciar, could fall back into a bed of down and cotton, blissfully ignorant to the suffering of survivors. She coos a question and feather-furred ears perk to listen better- Hurt? It had only been for a second... really... comforted by an easy numbness that did not demand any further thought from him. "Only when I try to... step," he answers in low tones, hoping Otterbite might not be eavesdropping to hear his admission. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the vision of cool, collected heroism he'd fostered just a second ago.

He sighs softly, looking towards the pointed leaves with distaste befitting a child his age but he obliges, because he respects her and has no reason not to trust her. They are bitter... foul tasting... and their purpose eludes him for now while he licks his tongue over his teeth as if it might wash out the tang faster.

He glances towards Willowroot with a furrow of his brow, enamored by the nickname she'd given but all the more anxious by her suggestion to go after that mangy mutt. If anything should happen to her or... or anyone else here... he might as well have just died on the spot!​
 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- How quickly arrived the coddling, the very actions that set Valepaw up for failure in this moment. Rookfang appeared like a bolt of righteous fury, fur bristling at an enemy no longer present, a threatening presence Otterbite would gladly challenge. Who was here to challenge him, truly? If Valepaw weren't kept under such tight wraps by his own brother, his mentor, maybe he wouldn't have had minnows swimming around where his brain should be.

And the chimera loathed to see how easily Rookfang cotton-mollied the tom. Seven moons he was and nothing to show for it the way he still clung to his kitten fluff and hid behind his brothers shadow. Otterbite already saw the results of his actions as Valepaw insisted for his tooth-heavy kin to back down, and his muzzle twisted into his own satisfied grin.

"Wanna hear something useful? Show up next time." And he practically spits as he said it, like acid he hoped it burned. He hope it struck right to through the toms heart. "Unless you expect someone to be around to save him every single time. You think one cat alone is good enough to fight a dog?" Claws dig into the earth but his wicked smile remained.

"I fight cats, and I win." A thinly veiled threat, and he wouldn't hesitate to back up its promise.

Eyes snap to Willowroot as she addressed him but he doesn't bite if it's some attempt to deescalate. "I saw it leave. You want to go chase it? Take him with you, he likes throwing himself into foxes and dogs, don't you Rookfang?"



  • OTTERBITE he/him, warrior of riverclan, thirteen moons.
    scruffy blue/black chimera with a white tail-tip and green eyes. noticeable kinked whiskers
    adopted son to pikesplash // former apprentice to coyotecreek
    peaceful and healing powerplay requires permission / / underline and tag when attacking or making an action toward
    see battle info here
    penned by beataegonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
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MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

”That is enough, Otterbite.” Snakeblink’s voice lashes through the post-chaos stillness of the air, a harsh hiss going sharp and high-pitched as it curls past the barrier of his teeth.

The lead-warrior steps bodily between the young, venomous warrior and the looming figure of Rookfang. Alerted by the noise, he ran like hell towards the commotion, but now his keen eyes barely glance at Valepaw’s sorry shape before focusing entirely on the conflict crackling like a coming storm between the two cats. He hates the expression he finds on his junior’s face: the cruelty of it. Hates that he’s let this behavior pass him by without moving so much as a claw, never stepping in to correct what he saw as his mentor and his father’s duty. I fight cats, and I win. He can hardly argue against the thorn-sharp cat's claim, but the grim meaning underneath has his fur prickling.

How many apprentices, he wonders, will this clan fail in such a manner? (Otterbite, he’s sure, would dearly resent the suggestion that he is anything but a glaring success.)

But let not his interruption be mistaken for protectiveness over Rookfang: although such a feeling does stir in his chest, cold creeping fear over Valepaw’s fate and his friend’s mind, the larger cat surely doesn’t need protection from Snakeblink’s scrawny limbs. Besides, he will not consider Otterbite an active threat to another clanmate, not until the younger warrior has not given him cause to consider him a threat to the clan.

No, he stands there, fur bristling, for the sake of mediation: he will not have clanmates fighting petty battles over the spilt blood of a cat in need of medicinal assistance.

”Go with Willowroot, make sure this dog is well and gone,” he orders, reptilian eyes focusing on the chimera’s face with cold neutrality -- his entire body has gone still, a snake ready to strike, expecting protest. ”Be thorough but cautious. Do not engage alone.” His tone brooks no argument. The mantle of lead warrior sits more easily on his shoulders these days; irritation does the rest.

He twists his body to glance at the bristling warrior behind him without shifting his paws. ”Rookfang, help Valepaw back to camp.” He would tell him to take a walk before he bites someone’s head off, but asking the tom to leave his brother’s side would be akin to asking for Snakeblink’s head to be the one mauled off his neck, so he abstains. ”Moonpaw, do you need anything else? Otherwise, I will run ahead and warn Smokestar of the situation -- he will want to be informed, I think.” A dog is no small threat on one’s territory -- as Thunderclan’s recent tragedy proved.

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely
  • the day he gets his paw on a rolled newspaper it's over for you bitches
    apprentice tag: @turtlepaw

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    Snakeblink • he / him. 51 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo


 
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