camp MONSTER UNDER THE BED // scary figure / "ghost"


EEEEEEK!

The ear piercing scream sounds out from the apprentice's den in the dead of night. Several heads popped up from their nests, some cats even jumped! Who could blame them? It was quite a change in noise environment when comparing it to the dead silence they had been enjoying mere seconds ago. The source of the scream? SkyClan's favorite four moon old red tabby. She sits in her nest, reeling back with her fur wildly bristling. Her fellow apprentices were giving her annoyed looks and hisses, telling her to shut up and go back to sleep, it hardly phases the girl... Not after what she just saw!

"There was a ghost! Not a nice one either! Real big, bigger than any of us- bigger than Blazestar!" The child begins to explain, trying to convince her fellow apprentices and any warriors who had now popped over to see what the matter was. "They were a shadow with... with black mist floating around them and coming out from their paws... It had been coming right towards me... and now its hiding! It's still here somewhere..." She whines, looking around the outskirts of the den with paranoia.
 

It's a peaceful night of slumber for Greenpaw.

Dreams of chasing mice - of watching birds, of training with Churrodream, of early warrior ceremonies - roll through his mind with ease as the young apprentice sleeps away in his nest. Though, it isn't long before his dreams turn sour, as he's swiftly dragged out from his sleep by a shrill screech.

Bright eyes quickly blink away sleep as his head pops up out of his nest. Greenpaw looks around with wide, sleep-filled eyes for the source of the scream, for the danger that had come to SkyClan. He'd beat the danger up so fast, they'd have to make him a warrior right away!

He's hardly able to imagine what cool name he'd get for saving the day - Greenstrike, maybe? For how fast he would attack? - before his eyes lock onto Figpaw, hear her words.

A ghost?

The tom blinks in confusion, looking around the den, following his littermate's gaze. He doesn't see anything. Had Figpaw really just woken him up out of his nice dreams, given him a false idea of becoming a warrior early, just for her screaming to be over nothing?

"A ghost? Are you sure?" he asks, the lull of sleep begging for him to lay back down, "You weren't just dreaming?"

He settles back into his nest, though keeps his gaze on the shadows within the den. They do look extra spooky, after Figpaw's claims. Maybe he'll... Maybe he'll just watch to make sure nothing leaps out from them.
 
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"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
Daisyflight was well tuned to the sound of her kit's cries. To hear Figpaw's call now however, in apprenticehood, elicited a fresh panic that had her sprinting across camp. A whirlwind gallop had the mother in the den in question up to her tail within seconds. One red tabby, another- silver- Her count was efficient, instant. Seeing all those inside are safe, the calico simply stands, half in half out, with a frown.

"Litt-" The huffed query was interrupted by her daughter's schpeal on the supposed ghost. Now, Daisyflight was torn. Ghosts hadn't been real to her until Starclan stitched the forest into its territories and pressed against their ranks. Who's to say the 'benevolent' force hadn't grown weary and taken to, unsurprisingly, laying panic onto their lives? A black whisp was not so far removed from a twinkled cloak that she could write it off.

Unwilling to spread her suspicions however, she lowered her voice into reassurance and bowed to enter further. "That's very possible Greenpaw. Ah, well, we'll just have to make sure there's nothing there won't we?" Stepping over the other sleeping apprentices proved trickier than expected, a wavering advance into the darkest edges of the den. "Watch my back, just in case," Daisyflight added, trying to hearten the group. Perhaps herself, a little, too.

She began her appraisal of the den, head lilting high and low to inspect every nest and fern.
 
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

A shriek splits the air like a claw cleaving flesh in two. Blazestar sits up immediately, the exhaustion in the pools of his eyes vanishing like morning dew exposed to direct sunlight. He leaps to his paws, pulls through the elderberry bush shielding his den, and stares as though willing the answer to come to him. No dogs, no foxes, no badgers, no rogues. He tastes the air -- nothing.

The flame point pads wearily to the apprentice's den and pokes his enormous head inside. The ruff of fur about his neck muffles his tired inquiry. "Daisyflight?... What happened?" The calico is alert, peering into the corners of the den as though she's searching for something.

Blazestar's confusion is palpable. "Was there someone in here?" The question is less addressed to the SkyClan deputy than it is to the entire den.

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