camp NEW LIFE // open + exploring camp

[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

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Silverpaw. That was his name now, and a hard earned name it had been. Even now his muscles still ached from the struggle of facing off against Firepaw, but his desperation had served him well. Still, the kittypet life he had known did not compare to that of the feral life he had been thrust in to. It still beat the alternative option however, being alone in the cold with no where to go except to that of an early grave.

The youth padded slowly around the camp as he tried to gain his bearings, identifying where the various sections of clan class slept; elders, warriors, apprentices, kits and their mothers... how did one remember it all? Such odd terms he still had to adjust to. Eventually his exploration brought him to the base of a large rock, and it was there that he sat himself down so he could take a moment to process it all.
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[SUNNVAR]

He had known this feeling, when he first came to these moors. It was something akin to disbelief, though his at least came with a touch of familiarity. The life he had lived before this grand journey was not one of softness the way that Silverpaw's had been. He lived in dens they forged together, curled amidst slumbering hides that snored and rustled to a comforting wave of sound. Not beneath the stars as these WindClanners do, but surrounded nonetheless by those he cared for. Those he fought alongside. It might have been what made this transition easier. He does not wander this clan in a thoughtless fog, but with purpose and clarity. An outsider, in a way– Sootstar's words have not left the wound they made. Perhaps they will fester and rot. Or perhaps that they linger there is what is saving him. If they are pulled, his bloodied heart might follow.

He does not like this kittypet, yet he most certainly understands. He watches him move about the camp like a soul lost at sea, unable to tell one wave from the next. That he finds himself sat beneath the rock that he does draws an uncertain mirth to the lead warrior's maw; there is still a chill to him as he approaches. As if Silverpaw might infect him in some way, with either his weakness or his reputation. Of the many things he could weather, such a blight on his place in WindClan was not one. "Focus only on the whole of it, at first," he still suggests as he pads closer still. "You may break it to pieces in time, but if you view it in shattered pieces first, you may never see the entirety of its picture."

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[Azaleafrost]

Oh, a newcomer. Windclan so loved it's newcomers. He looked strong, though. Perhaps they would be better to him? She doubted it. This clan was rife with hatred for those who weren't them. Even if they were of the clan, if you weren't perfect, you were trash.

She watches Silverpaw at first, unsure if she should approach him or stay put, but she already has been staring.....

"You'll get used to it." She said.

Yes, he'll get used to the camp and their way of life.... And he'll get used to the ridicule and revilement, the abuse. Would it be easier for him, she wondered?
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[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

---

Oh, it was one of the cats who had been there the day he had fought for his place in the clan. The youth peered up at the other and he blinked slowly in neutral greeting, neither happy nor spiteful. Advice was given but Silverpaw wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. "View it as a whole?" He queried with a slight tilt of his head. It didn't really make much sense to him if he was honest.

Though he didn't get to dwell on it for long when another cat approached, one that was unfamiliar to him. No introduction is given and it leaves him wallowing in the dark of the unknown. "I'm sure I will. My name is Silver........paw. Who might you be?" He came close to forgetting the addition to the end of his name but he managed to tag it on clumsily before it was lost.
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[SMOKESTEP]

TAGS — So this was the kittypet that had humiliated his sister? Smokepaw has half a mind to thank him- but he's stubborn about giving this stranger the satisfaction of having beaten Firepaw in a fight, even if Smokepaw would usually laugh about the very thing with any other WindClan apprentice. But this one had not been let in willingly- even if Sootstar had eventually relented, he knows his mentor would never have accepted a kittypet in good faith. After all, they don't want to be like those SkyClanners that can't even fight their own battles. But between Silverpaw and Azaleapaw, it seems that their kittypet population might be steadily increasing.

The idea quirks his lip as he stalks over, brows furrowed over his amber eyes in a rare and conspicuous display of his contempt. Since he can't bring himself to find humor in Firepaw's defeat, he runs the opposite direction with the emotion, straight into rancorous disgust for having his blood tainted with the loss. He is not ordinarily a talkative cat, but he finds himself willing to make an exception now: "Be more grateful for your name," Smokepaw spits, white-tipped tail flicking irritably. He'd been graciously offered a place to stay, and a place to pull his own weight- the least he could do was remember the name he'd been given. He levels Azaleapaw with a similarly disdainful glare, though he says nothing to her, instead choosing to shift his focus to the chilly Sunstride. It's perhaps the coldest he's seen the lead warrior, but he's grateful for that chill, some sort of example to align his own thoughts with. Smokepaw's amber eyes flick back to Silverpaw, scowl deepening.​

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