pafp PIEDMONT ♱ altercation & intro

[Velvetpaw]

It's been only a short while since the rogues had been cleared. It's been only a short while since Cicadastar kicked the bucket– and there's so much work to do. Velvetpaw could double over and die about it. Or would that be in poor taste? He supposes he's just awfully riled that their joyous return home couldn't come with a little break. Then again, the rogues had made a mess of the place. Gee, thanks, guys, Velvetpaw thinks with a snort. Really helping me out here.

Timberpool has seen to it that her wonderful, obedient, extremely skilled apprentice performs only the most dignified of camp chores today: lining the elders' nests. Groan. Velvetpaw hates this sort of work. He ought to be out on border patrols, or hunting, or learning how to swim better (StarClan is he awful at it; but he refuses to be a drypaw on top of a former rogue), but instead he's standing with moss in his mouth and reluctance on his face, unable to force himself into the elders' den outright. It's not so totally bad, he thinks, tail flicking, I'll get it done real quick n' then I can go hunt or something. Velvetpaw takes a deep breath in, holds it, and lets it out, ready to finally make his grand entrance...

until he is rudely barged into by a certain gangly apprentice. The hammer of his hair-trigger temper fires; Velvetpaw whips back to see @CICADAPAW a few paces away, and dropping the moss in his jaws, he snaps, "Watch it!" Silver dollar eyes narrow into slits, maroon pupil constricting at their centers. Stupid Cicadapaw. Stupid elders' den. Velvetpaw glares at the mop of fur that drapes over the other's face. "I know you've got eyes under there, so use 'em," he hisses in a drawl, and moves to pick up his dropped moss.​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

cicadapaw is not terribly given to watching where he's going. not anymore, at least. in his early moons, he'd minded his paws and his crooked tail, shaded eyes always watching for potential hazards his knobby joints might happen to collide with. that had been a different time, though, when he had been a different cat. when he had slept in the willow den against ruffled curls, and when a mottled phantom hadn't stalked around his psyche, always maybe there, maybe a trick of the light.

as he advances across camp towards some cleanup duty or another, curls still damp with river water, he isn't looking for the living that he might bump into. no, he's watching with hollow eyes for the dead, still lingering around the edges of his vision like an advancing predator. death has ruined his father for him and left him a walking husk, gaunt-faced and empty-eyed, waiting for the next ghost. but it isn't a ghost that he barges into—no, it's a living, breathing cat who he regards for a moment with some distant amazement.

"you watch it, rogue," he snarls on instinct, baring fangs with a distinctive gap. he knows it's an overreaction, knows that he might brush it off for another cat and drift invisibly away.....but it's velvetpaw. velvetpaw, who despite his clan name, is really just a rogue. how different is velvetpaw from the creatures who had hunched over his father like a pack of carrion birds and torn his lives away? how different is velvetpaw from the thrashing beast that had died beneath his claws, choking on the water they didn't own? not very, he finds.

velvetpaw isn't a riverclanner at all, really. he's an infestation, a plague that can't be cured with some freckled leaves or a long journey—not that those had saved cicadastar, had they, because rogues weren't so easily stamped out. they'd killed or chased out every last intruder.....except for this one. velvetpaw is left here, the last cell germinating and waiting to no doubt sink his fangs into smokethroat's neck. "you should've been chased out with the rest of your kind," cicadapaw hisses, wanting nothing more than to dig his claws into velvetpaw's stupid face. "riverclan would be better off for it."

appearing unsightly ✦ ( with devils inside me )

• 

• 

  cicadapaw ; apprentice of riverclan
  x. he/him ; 4 moons ; tags
  x. unsightly black-and-white tom with heterochromatic amber and blue eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  cicadapaw is the wayward son of cicadastar and smokethroat, veritable riverclan royalty who fails to live up to his legacy. veiled in a perpertual miasma of internal conflict and rage, he finds solace in his anger when he can find it nowhere else.

​

 

[Nettlepaw-]

NETTLEPAW ♂
RIVERCLAN
APPRENTICE
THREE MOONS
BLIND IN BOTH EYES
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
APPRENTICED TO PIKESPLASH
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH​

---

He still hasn't caught anything yet. Still hasn't proven his worth to his clan. Nettlepaw is as foul tempered as ever, it seemed, blind eyes narrowed and features cast into a stony scowl. He debates grabbing something from the fresh-kill pile, but then realizes he's not so sure he deserves to eat. This would be his very first leaf-bare, and if he couldn't provide during such a scarce season, then how could he be expected to fill his own belly without feeling bad about it?

The apprentice thinks this is just one more thing that he should learn to let go, one more emotion that he should shun. After all, who cared if the rest of his clan got to eat? Nettlepaw was the only one who really mattered. Right... ?

Yet, when sharp ears pick up the commotion in the camp nearby, Nettlepaw's sightless eyes flicker toward the scene, as he takes in the words of the conversation. From what is said, he can piece together just what has happened. Had the two apprentices crashed into each other on accident? Nettlepaw recalls how an accident between Carawaypaw and himself had led to some pretty bad blood between them, but he wasn't a peacekeeper then and he's certainly not now. If anything, that selfish mood quickly fades into a pridefulness.

Cicadapaw was a real RiverClanner. Velvetpaw was a rogue. Nettlepaw and Cicadapaw had both lost parents as a result of the past few moons. What had Velvetpaw lost? And yet now that former rogue thought he had the right to show such audacity. Velvetpaw had no right to RiverClan lands, and neither did that stupid Ripple Colony lurking about.

He moves before he thinks, really. Nettlepaw silently stalks his way toward the scene, baring his own teeth. He takes a stand next to Cicadapaw, glaring the former rogue down with bared fangs and bristling fur. Though the quiet, foul tempered young tom said not a word, his presence is clear enough in terms of body language. He stood supportive at Cicadapaw's side, and aggressive in the face of Velvetpaw. Back off, rogue!
​

​

 

[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── With the death of Cicadastar still as fresh as a split wound that refused to be sealed by stitches, Rookfang knew emotions were at an all-time high. Tensions seemed to be constant alongside the rollercoaster of events that had unfolded for themselves in such a condensed pathway. The imminent plague, the ruthless rogues, and the tragic demise of their former leader. They weren't even able to comprehend that as they had been forced to scatter and leave without ever giving a formal farewell to him. It had caused there to be a wake-up call to how precious and fragile life can be, and how he should take every single chance to appreciate the life he shares with the rest. So, despite his previously stubborn belief there wasn't much worth in trying to establish relationships, the warrior attempted to seek out each new day with a lighter tone. His paws were soaked alongside his chest and jaws from returning fishing, two fish bouncing limply in his jaws as he headed towards the freshkill pile. Muttering a low thanks under his breath to Starclan for the successful hunt, the male began to head around the main camp area to find his apprentice, Bumblepaw. He wasn't sure if they would be busy with their duties but Rookfang wanted to ensure she was staying in her lane and not causing trouble or lounging around when there was plenty of work to be done. His salmon-pink tongue drew over his wet jaws to lick off any scales that had clung to his lower jaw when the sound of an altercation flowed right down his way.

Velvetpaw? And...Cicadapaw. The rings under his eyes seemed to further embed themselves into his worn face as the fanged male turned his heavy stone-like stare to the two youths. Of course. With Velvetpaw's ferocity to always be ready for a fight or argument, it wasn't shocking how quickly the sparks had decided to fly. Yet, what perplexed him was Cicadapaw's response.

Now, Rookfang didn't believe the son of the fallen leader and Smokethroat would be considered soft but from what he had seen, Cicadapaw had been a gentler reserved ghost that hung tightly to his siblings and family. There was an unlimited sense of love and devotion to that but with the child's recent loss of a parental figure, breaking that bond had left a dangerous wire to be exposed. One, that was not going away anytime soon by the looks of it. Grief and loss were displayed in many different portraits from sunken depths to volcanic explosions so Rookfang could sympathize with the bicolored child that had already been through so much in his youth. The same cycle seemed to keep repeating itself, once with himself, and now countless others including Cicadapaw. Despite that, Rookfang knew the last thing that Ravensong needed was two-no, three battered apprentices when it was now the time for healing for the sick.

"All of you, take a step back."

His usual tone which was airy and empty of any sort of emphasis had been forged to one of searing heat, sharp as he barked out the order. Rookfang usually wasn't one to be so demanding but now all three apprentices looked ready to spill blood when enough blood had already been splashed on the ground beneath them. The larger figure of the shadowy warrior stalked in, immediately placing himself in between the two conflicted sides, Velvetpaw against Cicadapaw and Nettlepaw. With his younger brother, Rookfang was not surprised by this sort of behavior but it would not go unnoticed or ignored. Yet, the comment that had been spewed out by Cicadapaw caused his half-lidded eyes to narrow with intensity, not liking the treatment that reeked of clan-blood arrogance he had been the victim of. His tongue clicked sharply against the roof of his tongue as he knew it must be coming from the internal grief that the child was going through so he grumbled flatly "Care to explain what this senseless bickering is about?" He shot looks at all of them, patient enough to wait for an answer from any of them, his long jagged tail gently swaying lowly beneath him as his pricked ears awaited for any kind of response. ​

 

[iciclefang]

“I’d like to know as well.” The tortoiseshell warrior slips into place beside Rookfang, giving her Clanmate a look of borderline exasperation. She’d heard Cicadapaw’s comment perfectly fine—the boy isn’t exactly being quiet, and she has two working ears, after all. She will see to her own apprentice, though a small part of her isn’t entirely in disagreement with his assessment of Velvetpaw… at his age, she’d have likely thought the same thing. A pestilence, rotting their Clan from within, not of true RiverClan heritage.

Still. She can’t be seen letting this behavior slip. And even if she can’t entirely disagree with Cicadapaw’s opinion, she can certainly disagree with the way he handles his grievances with his Clanmates. She aims a delicate cuff at one of his oversized ears, one that would not hurt but would humiliate. “Regardless of Velvetpaw’s origins, that is your Clanmate, and warriors are expected to fight alongside their Clanmates. I want no kitten arguments. Is that clear?” The look she gives him is steady, cold, but if he looks hard enough, he will find a flicker of understanding.

Her eyes dart to Nettlepaw, who had silently joined the bullying, and she frowns. Pikesplash would need to handle his own apprentice, she thinks.

, ”​

​

 

[BRISTLEPAW]

There he comes like a shadow. The tom whose murky blue eyes stare with all the judgement of the world. He frowns as he looks at Velvetpaw, unsure of the reasons behind what is happening but he can tell that his brother is not happy so then that means he also shouldn't he looking very uppity either. Especially after Cicadapaw calls the other a rogue. Typical for them to mess everything up. His ears pull back just a little though as Iciclefang speaks and he tilts his head up. Rogues were their issues from the beginning. They took Cicadastar from them. They took their camp from them and he lashes his tail back and forth. "But why does he get to stay? Is he not...is he not an issue?" A problem that needs to be dealt with as soon as possible. At least he would think so in this regard.
​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  bristlekit - tom / 3 moons old / riverclan apprentice / aspiring warrior

 

[Velvetpaw]

You watch it, rogue.

Velvetpaw's downturned snarl cracks at its edges, morphing and melding and creaking until it's a grin on his face, harsh as a desert sun and twice as white. He'd already known that this is how his clanmates saw him, but it's always such a delight to hear it hissed through pearly fangs, trailing the heels of some tired insult. He should've been chased out; he should've died at a real RiverClanner's paws; he should really just turn tail and head back to where he came from, because he's such a waste of space and fresh-kill. The smoky tom's eyes crinkle at their corners.

Couldn't Cicadapaw come up with anything better?

"An' here I thought you were the smart one," Velvetpaw assesses through his venom smile, red tongue swiping over bladed incisors. He speaks low, words tarred in sugar. "C'mon, 'Cada. Hit me where it hurts. One t' make Cicadastar proud." White-tipped tail flicks like any snake's rattle; each muscle twitches to attack, but the boy knows just an ounce better than that. He roots himself in place, maroon pupils slitted, ears angled forward with near-violent anticipation.

The fur on his shoulders prickles into spikes. He can't help his goading; especially not as Nettlepaw joins their little group, milky green eyes staring straight through Velvetpaw. He snorts. I'd like to see him try anything, the apprentice thinks, and maybe he would've said it, too, if Rookfang and the rest of the fun police hadn't swooped in.

Velvetpaw loves his brother. Or, at least, he thinks he does– but in any case, if anyone's word can keep him in line, it's Rookfang's. The older tom shares his own history to some degree: born a rogue, but successfully integrated into Clan life after hard work, dedication, and some sense of debt to the cats who housed him. Unfortunately, their similarities stop shortly after birth. Velvetpaw has found little success in becoming a real RiverClanner; while Timberpool teaches him the formalities and rules of the place, no cat seems to care to teach him how to fit in on the more subliminal levels. No cat besides Rookfang, that is. Velvetpaw supposes he ought to be grateful. He'd be dead on his own, he knows, and it is this instinct for self-preservation that keeps him docile enough to not be exiled entirely– but really, it's hard to be grateful when he feels eyes on his back at all times, especially now.

The smoky tom offers Cicadapaw and his crony a final pointed glare before turning his attention to Iciclefang and Rookfang. "He started it," the apprentice rumbles, breezy. He tries not to laugh when Iciclefang cuffs Cicadapaw's ear– her paw nearly gets swallowed in it. "Bumped inta me n' made me drop all my moss." Moss that he still needs to pick up, actually– but Bristlepaw's question gives him more pause.

Is he not an issue? Now that stung. Something about the indirect-directness of it; the politeness of the bigotry. Is he not an issue? Velvetpaw grins again, a growl stuttering to a start in his throat. "Y'want me t' be?" he rumbles; his sensitive nerve touched a bit too hard. His teeth bare, but he makes no real move towards the younger apprentice– not with the warriors around, anyway. He's not that stupid.​

 

[BEEFANG]

FIGHT SO DIRTY BUT YOU LOVE SO SWEET — Beepaw is never far from her littermates due to the fear of losing sight of them and either falling victim to any leftover rogues, her own curls sticking to her close to her body, and she's distracted in her own thoughts for a few heartbeats before realizing that Cicadapaw had bumped into another apprentice. The way Velvetpaw dares to speak to her brother makes her muscles begin to tense, tired pupils narrowing into slits, and her bicolored gaze burns into the other. She's not proud of the words that slip from her littermates mouth, she's ready to tell the two of them to quit it, and Nettlepaw materializes to her brother's side with bared fangs and bristling coat. The molly holds her breath until Rookfang and Iciclefang arrive to thankfully settle the dispute between the two instead of getting herself involved, Bristlepaw's words making her ears burn slightly. You're making it worse, fish for brains. She thinks feeling a tad irritated with the younger apprentice until Velvetpaw begins speaking once more.

The fur along the back of her neck rising at the mention of her deceased father, her paws carrying her forward to brush against Cicadapaw's side, and her narrowed gaze focused onto the mottled apprentice trying to keep herself levelheaded "Don't say his name." Beepaw says coolly though her gaze is piercing daggers through the other apprentice, the rogue, and the pestilence that clung to Riverclan. A pest. It takes her lots of willpower to keep her claws sheathed even when she looks upon the other and it reminds her of the grim memory of her and Cicadapaw taking the life of a rogue. She let's out a puff of air escape her clenched jaw and blinks at Velvetpaw's reasoning for being rude to her brother to begin with "Oh please. All of that over dropped moss? Stop wailing over it like some kitten and pick it up again," This whole thing was stupid but it seems that Bristlepaw's comment hit a nerve and her ear flicks.

Her tail sweeps behind her, Beepaw speaks once more "We should be focusing on working together not squabbling. We need all able paws to work not draw blood." Of course, someone like you wouldn't understand clan life or working with one another. She bites down on her tongue not speaking these words out to Velvetpaw especially not with Rookfang and Iciclefang around, no, there was bigger fish to catch and she wouldn't contribute the arguing. The last thing that she needed was for Smokethroat to approach and find them all arguing when the clan was currently in shambles after the rogues having essentially trashed the place and whatever bodies floated down from the gorge.

𓆟. ° .• . TALK SO PRETTY BUT YOUR HEART GOT TEETH

• 
  ❥ 4 moons old
  ❥ riverclan apprentice
  ❥ sexuality unknown; single
  ❥ daughter of cicadastar and smokethroat
  ❥ sister of cicadapaw & starlightpaw
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ easy; still learning how to fight
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[Petalstep .]

PETALPAW — Keep about your wits.
Petalpaw was not immune to curiosity. Despite her almost ghostly presence, she is still juvenile at heart, and would always turn an ear to the entertainment of petty drama, even if she refused to participate herself.
Her arrival is quiet, chartreuse eyes forming into slits as they flicker from on bickering apprentice to the other. Cicadapaw in all his clanborn ignorance damns Velvetpaw back to his rogue-born roots. Velvetpaw spits back a different kind of venom, and Petalpaw feels her brow bones twitch in shock as he tells Cicadapaw to make his deceased father proud.
A low-blow, but she supposed the others previous insults were not much better.
Rookfang and Iciclefang are quick on the scene, Beepaw hot on their tails.
Petalpaw looks at the fallen moss, the kindle to these melodramatic flames.
"You could be a solution, instead." She finally hums, eyes flickering to Velvetpaw, the tension in the air was practically clinging to ivory fur.
"I need help patching some holes in the nursery, care to learn how to weave?" She does not address the other apprentices, nor the two warriors, and her offer is spoken with causality. He didn’t have to take it, he could spend his day arguing with the entirety of Riverclan for all she cared.

"speech"

tags​

​

 

[robinheart]

She is awarded a small break in her daily duties, a break in which she is determined to see out in the elder's den catching up with the surviving elders whom she had grown close with. It was rather easy to form bonds with the wizened felines after spending moons applying mouse bile to their ticks and listening in on the stories of their pasts. Each one was like a grandparent of sorts to Robinpaw, so it was to be expected that she would be less than pleased to see a group of apprentices and warriors settling a dispute in front of the elder's den. Couldn't they have moved elsewhere and afford the elderly some peace and quiet?

"If you need help moving that moss into the elder's den I would be more than happy to assist you, and I am certain the elders will be more than happy to not have to overhear some apprentice squabble," Robinpaw volunteers politely, not wanting to engage in the childish argument and pick sides (StarClan knows there are no sides to pick - Cicadapaw is grieving and Velvetpaw is trying to fit in and be accepted). The tortie glances down at the dropped moss but makes no move to help quite yet, merely making herself appear ready and willing to assist the other apprentice should he accept. Maybe then he could move on to help Petalpaw and all would go back to how it should be before the unfortunate incident between Velvetpaw and Cicadapaw.

 

[BRISTLEPAW]

Slowly the young apprentice blinks his gaze, tilting his head up just slightly. Everyone else seems more inclined to let thing be. To try and make them be friends with the rogue that has infiltrated their camp. Their home. His eyes cut to Rookfang for a moment given their relationship with the other and what that might mean for the sake of the clan. He hangs around rogues. That is a dangerous thing in tbe view of the young tom. His muzzle scrunches up a bit at the idea of one of their warriors being like that but he can not do anything about the situation. But soon his eyes are back on Velvetpaw and his words make his eyes narrow just a bit. Does he want him to be? If he becomes an issue he is sure that nothing pleasant will come from that.

Everyone is vouching for the other and he finds himself not in agreeance. "If you do, you will be dealt with." He says it matter of factly, face devoid of any expression save for the sharpness of his gaze. He sees no desire to help him either and merely keeps close to his brother as two other apprentices offer kinder words.
​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  bristlepaw - tom / 3 moons old / riverclan kit / aspiring warrior / mentored by lakemoon

 

[Moonbeam]

Whether or not someone had rogue blood within them didn't matter to Moonpaw - not fully at least. Admittedly she was a little hesitant to talk with some of the newer members of the clan, her worry about potential bad things happening that usually lay dormant in the back of her mind shoving itself towards the front with the recent events. It didn't mean she didn't try to push through them though, have conversations when they were near. For the time being she'd not seek the others out but let them come to her, not wanting to bother those that were getting used to everything within the territory after having to get used to things in two other territories before finally settling within the proper one once more.

Coming upon the scene the less aggressive apprentice looked towards her friends for a moment before ears pinned back and she looked towards Velvetpaw and Cicadapaw once more. They didn't have to like each other, but it would be for the best that they at least pretended to get along so that there was less hostility within the camp. Head nod slightly as Beepaw spoke and Moonpaw cast a glance her way for a moment before she moved forward, helping to pick up the moss that had fallen to the ground before moving away once more. "I think everyone should just take some space, no need in anyone causing more trouble." She got it, she really did. The hostility towards those that didn't "properly" belong to the clan, but there was no reason to divide the clan over these things so soon after everything. "No one's an issue until they make themselves an issue and Smokethroat says they're an issue, if everyone who wasn't born into the clan were an automatic issue then we wouldn't have half the cats living here we do now." She'd turn to Velvetpaw and Robinpaw then, head moving in a way to say "come with me" before trying to move away once more.

☾₊ ⊹ give me a ghost of a smile

• 
  ⋆ ratkit - ratpaw - moonpaw - moon???
  ⋆ female - she/her - 6 moons
  ⋆ homosexual - not looking
  ⋆ apprentice of riverclan
  ⋆ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ⋆ attack - "speech" - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

​

 

[bubbleburst]

"GOT A LITTLE CASH NOW SO THAT SKIRT IS DIOR"​

Bloodline matters very little to Bubblepaw. Actually, there are few things in life that could change her opinion of others' so strongly. If anything the apprentice cares the most about decorating and making sure every strand of hair is in the right place before she gallivants outside every morning. And even then that care is only focused on herself; she doesn't pay much mind or judgment to those who don't give attention to their decor and appearance. Why should it matter where Velvetpaw comes from? He is part of RiverClan now, and she would fight alongside him the same way she would fight to defend Bristlepaw or Cicadapaw.

A rare frown crosses the usually bouncy and giddy apprentice's face. Even though Velvetpaw puts on a tough act, she can't imagine it feels very good to have multiple apprentices leering and sneering at him. Bubblepaw comes alongside Petalpaw and Robinpaw to approach Velvetpaw and offer her help. "Here, we could move the moss to the elders' den, and then Petalpaw can teach us how to patch holes," the silver tabby suggests with a small smile, conjoining the aforementioned pair's ideas into one. "I haven't learned to weave yet!" she speaks with enthusiasm "It could go by way faster if we all help out." Bubblepaw glances to Velvetpaw, hoping he knows she's trying to include him.

​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆

---

Their bickering sounded like birds fighting over a single peace of grain during the late-months of winter. And it was aggravating. Not only because their shrill voices hurt her ears but the content of those caws was unsettling. Moonpaw is the only one to point out the hypocrisy of the entire argument, something often ignored by the youth who had the luxury of being born within the structure of clan-life but Lichentail and most of the warriors had not. And she would not stand to listen to them berate another apprentice who had no choice on where he was born. Velvetpaw had yet to prove himself worthy of scrutiny.

"If I hear another word," the point moves to stand by the tortoiseshell molly who had tried to get the other apprentices to come off their high horses, "About chasing your clan-mates out, you will not like the consequences." The fact this involves Smokethroat's children only makes this worse... setting some sort of foul precedent that their bloodline made them exempt from common decency to their den-mates. "You disrespect the founders of this clan by spouting such venom about your nebulous idea of an 'outsider.' There is not a single lead warrior or deputy or leader of this clan that has lived their entire lives within it."

It was a pity Iciclefang, whose tongue was far sharper, had chosen to dull her blade in this conversation and that unspoken softness explained too many truths about her personal biases. "Bristlepaw I've had about enough- hold that tongue or you'll be removing ticks from the elders for the rest of your apprenticeship. And that goes for the rest of you two. The conversation is over."

At least, at the very least there are some small amount of sane apprentices who are not so easily convinced to rip into each other. Moonpaw and Bubblepaw, Petalpaw and Robinpaw, all struggling to drag the others to more productive plans. Their behavior deserved rewards, deserved acknowledgement, "Thank you, I think it's a good idea to prepare the dens for the coming winter. The rest of you run along, now. I expect that this won't come up again... or else there will be an actual issue." Hopefully they felt ashamed.. Hopefully they learned something from this. The Ripple Colony will never be given the peace to integrate properly if we can't even get these little terrors in line... Who knows how Thornmask would react to such blatant attack on his honor.. he's probably the most inclined to fight back.

"And it won't be about Velvetpaw's heritage." It was of little consequence to her if Rookfang felt his little brother was properly defended or not. In the face of such heartless, ignorant call-outs, he was going to have to teach his sibling how to overcome that adversity or he would surely drown in it.​

 

[BRISTLEPAW]

They come to defend the rogue. After everything that has happened to them. It seems...odd but the young tom has no real intention of changing his mind unless he is proved otherwise. His gaze doesn't look to any of the other apprentices that come flocking. His attention peculiarly stuck on Velvetpaw. It is only when Lichentail comes and says her piece that his gaze finally shifts from the other. He stands there with a slight tilt to his head. She tells him to quiet. Or else he will be picking ticks. Hmm. With a soft breath in he shrugs his shoulders and decides it is time for him to leave, it matters not he guesses. He already said what he wanted to anyway and so he merely dips his head to the older warrior before taking his leave. Not wanting to be disrespectful.
​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  bristlepaw - tom / 3 moons old / riverclan kit / aspiring warrior / mentored by lakemoon

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

if cicadapaw had expected his clanmates to leap to his defense against the rogue, he was sorely mistaken. but, of course, he hadn't expected it—in his father's absence, nobody saw any dregs of usefulness in him. there was no looming mottled shape here to console in his own strange way, only the gawking eyes of the other riverclanners as they watch the apprentice squabble like it's a kit story. discomfort rises in his throat like bile, drooling acid down his ribcage. sometimes he feels like one of those kits who are born dead, except it's all in his head, and nobody can see it. sometimes he feels like something is wrong with him. this is one of those times.

nettlepaw stalks to his side, a surprising show of support as he bares his fangs. it's only momentarily that he gets to feel in the right before rookfang and his own mentor come along to interfere, a permanent inhibitor to cicadapaw's freewheeling psyche. rookfang barges in uninvited, just like velvetpaw, and starts barking orders at them. iciclefang follows a moment later and swings a humiliating cuff at one of his thickly furred ears, bringing hot shame to their surface. voice low and unhappy, he replies, "yes."

more cats begin to collect, all of them voicing support for the silver-eyed rogue before him, and cicadapaw feels anger coiling in his chest, serpentine and glowing with muted rage. velvetpaw's grin is bone-white and taunting, spitting his father's name out like a piece of crowfood. he started it, velvetpaw jumps rapidly in, and cicadapaw feels the fur along his shoulders spiking angrily. "don't—don't you talk about my father." he digs gap-toothed fangs into his tongue, trying with every ounce of energy in his trembling body not to throw himself at velvetpaw here and now. "he didn't even give me a second to say sorry," the apprentice complains, not that he would've, but still.

his sister joins in too, and though she defends cicadastar's name, she starts talking about working together. she doesn't come and help him, and the perceived betrayal stings like a snake-bite. petalpaw shows up too, offering velvetpaw a weaving lesson in a casual tone. robinpaw is offering help with the moss, bristlepaw is as matter-of-fact as ever, and bubblepaw too joins the little weaving-and-moss party everyone's extending to the damn rogue. even moonpaw, who he'd thought was his sister's friend (and perhaps a potential one for him, in the future), joins what he perceives as velvetpaw's side. she helps pick up his moss, she says nobody's an issue, and what's really diplomacy is to cicadapaw an insult.

who's defending me? he wonders, adolescently wounded by the way everyone seems eager to cater to the rogue, who's offering to help me? the answer is nobody, at least in cicadapaw's mind, and lichentail's arrival only stokes the flames. "whatever," he growls, hurt stinging the corners of his eyes. "clearly everyone's just going to take the rogue's side anyways. i won't burden you all with my presence," he hisses, turning and storming off to somewhere else, anywhere else.

he'd been stupid to think his clanmates would want to help him. he'd been stupid to think that the other apprentices might want to be his friend. it was a mistake, and it's one he's not going to be stupid enough to make again.

appearing unsightly ✦ ( with devils inside me )

• out! all ic opinions :')

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  cicadapaw ; apprentice of riverclan
  x. he/him ; 5 moons ; tags
  x. unsightly black-and-white tom with heterochromatic amber and blue eyes
  x. played by dejavu
  x. son of smokethroat and cicadastar ; brother to beepaw and starlightpaw. apprenticed to iciclefang.

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