camp NINE BLADES | letting off steam



It wasn't fair.

Someone could've told her that moons ago as she cradled a shredded ear in one paw and Singe in the other and she may have believed it for a moment before deciding what had happened to them was a fluke. Someone could've told her that two moons ago and she may have uncomfortably laughed it off - what happened to Chilledstar was a fluke.

But now, it had happened again. Tragedy had befallen ShadowClan, her own mentor disappeared without so much as saying goodbye. The emotional whiplash of seeing Splashdance at the gathering, only to have that happiness ripped away by Smogstar going missing, felt like life truly being unfair. If he'd just held on one more day, he could've seen her become a warrior, he could've seen what she'd been able to do for him and ShadowClan. Now, he would never get that chance, she would never be able to tell him all the things left unspoken.

Even if a part of her knew she had no right to grieve as hard as his family, she had not been able to stop the angry sadness that had accentuated every movement of hers since the gathering. Every extra second without her mentor added another raindrop to a lake that threatened to flood and, on one particular day, it was just too much. There was something about the old bedding by the corner of camp that made her see red. There was a possibility some of it was Smogstar's, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Her claws needed to sink into something.

She pounced on it with reckless abandon, shredding at dried moss and ripping large clumps apart like cotton candy. Bloodpaw rolled around as if wrestling a sibling, biting wherever she could to tear more chunks out of the pile. It was making a mess, one she would wholeheartedly fix later, for now, she needed this. She needed this more than a shoulder to cry on or an enemy to fight. The only thing she needed more than this nature's rage room was Smogstar back.

"Take that you useless—" She tossed a chunk of reed aside. "—foxhearted—" Another one went flying, likely past someone's head. "— mousedust-looking—" A moment of elation as she began to find it fun. "-pile of" She swung her whole body around, inhaling heavily. "—frogdung." Orange eyes settled upon a clanmate, ears flat. Her tone could not decide between inviting and hurt. "Destroy this with me, will you?"


 
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It was a funny sight really, at least to him because not that long ago it had been Basilpaw who had lost a mentor and leader but there had been no dusty old bedding to pick a fight with. Maybe he should have. Bloodpaw was lucky in that way to have something to release that dark temptation on. She did not had to bottle it all up inside while everyone just gave a blind eye to it.

Basilpaw had not realized that he was staring, living too much in his own head this days to really pay attention. So it came as an suprise when Bloodpaw actually called him out, to join in the violent activity. Basilpaw's eyes grow wide before blinking severely of times. Destroy, hah, that was a funny thought really, something funny to say. It had never crossed his mind to be violent before. It went against everything he had been trying to be, pretending to be....but none of that had worked very well. Being likable just seemed impossible.

" Okay!." he suddenly chirped, deciding that trying something new might not be that bad of an idea. Beside, he could relate to how Bloodpaw was feeling right now. In that very moment the two where connected sharing the same loss and pain.

Basilpaw blinked and gave a short stare down at the already torn up nest like there was a hesitation, uncertanity. But then suddenly, the grey smoke leapt out at the bedding tearing into it with his claws and started to slash at it, first one time slowly, and then another...and then another until the speed increased until Basilpaw was slashing at the bedding furiously. " Take that you selfish backstabbing know it all fox-dirted-heart! " Basilpaw cursed, copying what Bloodpaw had been doing by cursing it. He stopped with his furious attacks but bite into it instead, chewing and toring at it with livid intentions before a piece of it got yanked out - left in between the apprentice's teeth. Basilpaw spat it out on the ground now left there standing as he breathed in and out hastily through the nose.





 
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ShadowClan wears its grief like a cat wears her pelt; wields it, like she wields her claws, her teeth. Marblepaw is learning this. She had felt the emptiness herself after learning the truth about her mother. She had worn her seeping wounds after Chilledstar's death. Now, after Smogstar's disappearance, her existence feels as though it's in stasis. Like the rest of her Clan, she does not know if it's fruitless to believe he lives; she does not know if it's wrong, yet, to move on.

Bloodpaw had been Smogstar's apprentice. She, like Needledrift and Ferndance and her littermates, had felt the seeping loss of Snowypaw's disappearance. Now her body twists as she smashes the old bedding to pieces; Basilpaw is with her, his limbs slamming against the bits of reed, the tattered bracken. This is how some cats heal, maybe, she thinks, her eyes round as she watches the two older apprentices.

Maybe this is how they grieve. Is it any better, she thinks, than moldering in one's nest, unable to breathe? Marblepaw thinks it must be. She envies the fire burning in Bloodpaw's eyes, wishes the red tabby would share it with the Clan, let them all let go of their pain in smoke and fire.

  • ooc:
  • pcAn1D5.jpeg
  • Marblekit . Marblepaw, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 8 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
    — mentored by Starlingheart ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
    — shadowclan medicine cat apprentice, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
    — currently mated to n/a.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.


 

It is always a bit ghastly to see your Clanmates grieve just as much as you do. It's not like Mirepurr had not expected it; Smogstar has been some sort of light in the dark for nearly all of them lately. Taking him for themself would be entirely unfair and selfish... and yet, the display of Bloodpaw's raw emotions makes them stop and stare, just a little bit.

The vulnerability that comes with being that young is often forgotten. Mirepurr has little room to talk, of course — having a bit more than a year on Bloodpaw is admittedly not that much of a difference —, but the fact presents itself nevertheless. Oh, the pain that comes with losing a mentor... a figure to look up to more than simply due to authority; a defining part of your life that would surely shape your future in tandem.

Mirepurr only gets shoved from their own thoughts when Basilpaw joins, and their ear flicks when they notice Marblepaw's attention on the pair too.

"We can always get more..." they mutter. Realization hits; they should be more clear on what they mean. "More moss, if you need something to tear into." They could reprimand the apprentices for making such a public mess, but is it not better for their emotions to get processed like this, instead of shredding one another during a training session? Mirepurr ought to let them vent.
 
*+:。.。 "More moss or more leaders?" Singepaw asks, batting away at Mirepurr's amendment with a bitter snap of his teeth. One gone quickly followed by the next, Singepaw almost wants to laugh. Instead, the boy grinds his teeth as he watches Bloodpaw and Basilpaw go at it, tearing apart the moss as though it were at fault for their leader's disappearance. Singepaw wants to say he's shocked, but ever since Chilledstar died nothing has felt right. The boy, shockingly enough, can't even find it in himself to want to join his best friend and not-so-best clanmate on the action, even as his skin thrumbs with uncomfortable, restless heat.
For once in his life, Singepaw doesn't have the strength to fight.
He feels claustrophobic, trapped within the confines of his bones, pressed tight together by stiff muscles and unrelenting scars. He watches Bloodpaw display her grief the only way he'd expect - through a show of fiery strength - but finds that as much as he loves and respects his fellow apprentice, his chest only feels tighter. Bloodpaw is tough, tougher than most - the toughest person he's honestly ever met - so to see her hurting...

Singepaw wants to scream.

Leaving deep furrows upon the earth, eyes boiling to steam, he turns that energy onto Mirepurr. "That all you've got to offer? Moss?" he finally snarls at them. The words feel weak on his tongue - a shot of lightning into the dark, impressive for the millisecond it lights the sky and sounds it's thunderous alarm...but so quickly dead and gone to the world. that's all you're going to offer, he says, as if Mirepurr isn't about to step forward and place their own neck onto the chopping block. As if Mirepurr, by not stepping down from their position as deputy right then and there, isn't already offering up their own life.
The next leader to vanish and die.

"Shove that moss up yours, Mirepurr" Singepaw suddenly spits, fur bristling with the outburst. Like lightning, quick to come and soon to die, he whirls on his paws and aims to leave, abandoning Bloodpaw to her grief and Mirepurr to their decision. Perhaps if he barks louder, he'll find the strength to bite hard enough to not let go. This won't be that time, though.


  • //OUT! Apologies for how aggro he is <3 Bloodpaw chose moss and Singe chose Mire, yay for unhealthy coping!!


  • GENERAL:
    Singepaw
    Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
    11 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
    NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
    Shadowclan — apprentice
    Apprenticed to Smogstar


    COMBAT:
    Physically medium | mentally somewhat easy
    Attack inbold #b8312f
    injuries: none



 

✧ . In stark opposite to his name, losing Chilledstar — directly after Sweetpaw, and before that, Nettlepaw — turned Screechstorm’s anger into something quiet. His own mentor’s death was harsh and unwarranted, *too soon* for a leader in power for so long; one that cared to train him, even if taking part in their training sessions wasn’t something *he* wanted to do.

The news now — Smogstar’s disappearance, his sickness prior — leaves anger burning at the tom once more. It leaves him wanting to sink his claws into the ground, to curse the stars for cursing ShadowClan with chronic tragedy. How can they lose so much? Over and over again, why must each day be spent in grief?

Mismatched eyes cast themselves on the anger that consumes his home. Bloodpaw and Basilpaw shred worn out nests. But his attention hardly lingers on the two, as Singepaw snaps at Mirepurr.

" Nice one, " he can’t help but to snort at the hot-headed apprentice, a dismissive flick of his tail following as the younger storms off. It’s all he can do really, though his outburst is one Screechstorm might’ve had, had this happened moons ago. Perhaps he still might, should news of another loss find ShadowClan. ​
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    SCREECHSTORM AMAB. He / Him. Warrior of ShadowClan.
    ✧ . A black/red tabby chimera tom with mismatched green eyes.
    ✧ . Forestshade x Vulturemask
    ✧ . Mentored by Chilledstar
    ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
    ✧ . Penned by Abri@_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
    ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack