- Sep 6, 2023
- 267
- 116
- 43
Though Featherpaw hadn't wasted a single moment in honing her warrior abilities, to be a worthy daughter of Sunstar and Wolfsong both- to earn the blood she was lucky enough to bear- there were certain things she had not practiced. Now her sparring was fierce and defensive, her hunting was most-of-the-time successful (and she had time to push herself further), and her tracking was impeccable, there was one last aspect of herself that needed to be chipped at.
His voice. It snagged and caught, you'd be stupid not to notice it. And he had worked out the pattern- that was the first step to stomping it out. To be a perfect warrior, to be a Windclanner fire-forged and faultless, she would have to smooth out everything. Abrasiveness and coldness, the mean he had always been called, that was necessary, for who knew who might be a traitor in their midst- but this, Featherpaw could fix, and would not lose anything from it.
He met his own gaze in the water of the sun-warmed pool. "P-P-Pinkpaw." he spoke his friend's name first, quietly. It always happened then. "Pinkpaw," and he spat it a little bit harshly, but it had come out fully-formed.
"B-buh..." A small growl. "Bluepool." Spat, again... but perfect, otherwise.
"Bees. P-p-puh- p-p-p-puh... ugh!" A harsh, dissatisfied growl burst from him. Perfection could precede, but then something utterly awful followed. Clearly it wasn't a consistent incline of ability. "P-Poppies." Embarrassing.
His voice. It snagged and caught, you'd be stupid not to notice it. And he had worked out the pattern- that was the first step to stomping it out. To be a perfect warrior, to be a Windclanner fire-forged and faultless, she would have to smooth out everything. Abrasiveness and coldness, the mean he had always been called, that was necessary, for who knew who might be a traitor in their midst- but this, Featherpaw could fix, and would not lose anything from it.
He met his own gaze in the water of the sun-warmed pool. "P-P-Pinkpaw." he spoke his friend's name first, quietly. It always happened then. "Pinkpaw," and he spat it a little bit harshly, but it had come out fully-formed.
"B-buh..." A small growl. "Bluepool." Spat, again... but perfect, otherwise.
"Bees. P-p-puh- p-p-p-puh... ugh!" A harsh, dissatisfied growl burst from him. Perfection could precede, but then something utterly awful followed. Clearly it wasn't a consistent incline of ability. "P-Poppies." Embarrassing.
✦ penned by pin