in the slip of a bolt there's a tiny revolt || icicle

ICESPARKLE

❄︎ sunrise
Jun 8, 2022
19
8
3

The calico preferred the wetlands and forest areas to the moor, that much was obvious. She barely ever volunteered for the patrols leaving in the direction of Fourtrees and rarely did she seek the company of cats outside of River-, Thunder- and SkyClan when the gatherings came around every moon. It wasn't that she disliked the cats on the moor or across the thunderpath – it was more... a feeling. Perhaps Cicadastar's words were rubbing off on her but surely the leader was right... right? Nonetheless, she minded her own business (five kits - four apprentices and one warrior - were after all quite a pawful) and thus there was plenty to take care of just in RiverClan.

Yet... all wasn't as simple as making sure the clan stayed fed. Her young daughter, Iciclepaw, had somehow ended in a... skirmish of sorts with the moor cats and one of the warriors came back much worse for wear. Unsure of what to make of it, Icesparkle had asked her daughter on a walk, surely the apprentice would be able to shed some light on the events...


// @iciclepaw
I'm thinking they spoke before the gathering where Cicada chews off Soot's head :')
 
( *+:。.。 ) Iciclepaw's pawsteps are in perfect sync with her mother's, her chin lifted high. At seven moons, they've matched size, and a cursory glance from a cat who does not know them well may think them twins, though her mother carries that bold portion of white down her face and chest, and Iciclepaw's is contained to that single blaze decorating her sculpted face.

Two pairs of icy eyes scour the wetlands, ears in tune with the crackling sounds of leafbare. The river's freezing at the edges, the water's pulsing and rising at heights the young tortoiseshell has never seen... but her worries are elsewhere, as are Icesparkle's, it seems. Iciclepaw realizes she has not walked with her mother this way since she was barely out of the nursery. She turns to look at the calico with new eyes, realizing all she has experienced has changed her in ways she has not considered.

"Are you curious about the skirmish, then?" Her voice is calm, non-accusatory. Icesparkle does not deserve her ire, and she can only imagine the patch-pelted warrior is curious about what truly transpired...

Iciclepaw's jaw clenches, though it's not out of anger towards Icesparkle. She's thinking of her mentor, the fiercest warrior she knows, laid out for what has felt like moons. The rabbit whose blood has rushed temptingly into her mouth at first bite, the adrenaline flaring into her eyes as Weaselclaw had leapt for Smokethroat...

She shakes herself irritably, though her tone remains neutral. "I didn't get to fight, if that's what you're worried about." Lamely, she throws her mother a sardonic look. "Smokethroat sent me back for help. I could have fought, and maybe I could have saved him from losing that eye... but he sent me away." A point of contention she thinks she will hold for the rest of her life, at this point. Iciclepaw does not like to feel useless or incapable. She knows she could have given those WindClan apprentices wounds to lick for moons.
( I HAVE THE ANSWER, SPREADING THE CANCER ; YOU ARE THE FAITH INSIDE ME )
 

She was not left in her own thoughts for long, sharp eyes watching their surroundings as they moved through the territory; Iciclepaw was quick address the news and with a jolt of satisfaction, Icesparkle recognised herself in that directness – that no nonsense approach. "Yes, I am quite curious," she agreed, her gaze falling upon Iciclepaw; it was like watching her reflection in the river. And then she listened, as her daughter spoke.

Was she glad that nothing more had happened to the tortoiseshell? Iciclepaw was so young – seven moons, that was nothing! – but she was brimming with the spirit of a true clan cat. (And sometimes, Icesparkle would wonder how good a thing it was, to be clan cats. Their lives seemed to have become more exciting... though also more dangerous). "A mother will always worry," the calico smiled, her words truthful yet spoken without reproach. "And I am proud that my daughter did the right thing – coming back to get more help. You did as Smokethroat said, and I'm glad."

Suddenly unsure if this was the right thing to say (or at least to say if she wanted to see the apprentice look less irritable), Icesparkle quickly added, "one day though – I'm sure you'll put those WindClanners in place." Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. She did not like the look of Sootstar and the wiry moor cats. At least tell me... does rabbit taste as good as they say?" ... or was fish (still) the superior prey?


 

Her mother is without judgment, and Iciclepaw feels the tension slip from her small shoulders. Though she has never spoken to her mother about the things she's seen, the things she's endured in her four moons of apprenticeship, she has always assumed Icesparkle would judge her if she knew what truly lie in her daughter's heart.

Especially when the young tortoiseshell still doesn't know exactly what that is yet.

"You did as Smokethroat said, and I'm glad." Iciclepaw looks at her with a careful expression. "And if I had ignored him, and fought? What would you have thought of me then?" She has to know. She's sensing something between them, a strange undercurrent, but she cannot grasp what her mother is truly thinking -- it's slippery as a fish between sheathed paws.

Her mother says that one day, Iciclepaw will have a chance to put the WindClan cats in their place. She is silent for a few heartbeats. "I hope so." It's all she can reveal. She directs her gaze back to her mother, interest gleaming in the corners of both pale eyes. "Have you ever fought in a battle before?"