private PUT ON YOUR SUNDAYS WE'RE GONNA DIG A HOLE // basilpaw

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt slipped wordlessly through the camp entrance, beckoning wordlessly to the cream apprentice with his tail as he trudged forward. He walked silently for a distance, looking down to the younger cat after a moment. "All right," he sighed. "Any ideas on where the softest moss might be hiding? We might as well make sure Redflower gets what she wants, lest she send us out again." He parted his jaws in a yawn, stretching out his forepaws as he moved. "At least it gets us away from her, hmm?"

@BASILPAW!

 

[BASILPAW!]

( 𖤓 ) stagstrike is not a cat basilpaw knows well, but he is a trusted older warrior, a tom he knows howlingstar had at the very least enjoyed the company of. basilpaw thinks he's been here since the beginning of the clans, seasons ago when emberstar was leader. it's a time the young apprentice can hardly comprehend, but it hasn't been as long as it's felt. once, stagstrike had lived as tybalt and had to fend for himself. all this to say, the cream tabby can feel reasonably comfortable that he is not about to set off on a patrol with one of skyclaw's murderous scum. he'd seen the glare sent redflower's way from the earthen tom's golden gaze. he will be safe with stagstrike for now.

white splashed paws follow the tom out into the forest, joints still aching from his silent vigil. after the fall of howlingstar, skyclaw had insisted things return to normal. now, he knows, his former leader's body is being prepared for vigil by gentlestorm and the queens. his kittypet-blooded clanmates are being made to flee their homes. basilpaw thinks of ivorypaw and coltkit so far from home, of roeflame and burnstorm, who seem to be preparing to leave after dawn comes. he remembers the gruesome sight of mousenose, ripped apart and gore-strewn on the ground, her family dragging her body from the traitors' claws and out into the wilderness, away from their rightful home. a shiver slides down his spine, sending his fur prickling and his jaw clicking as he walks.

stagstrike leads in silence for a few moments before glancing down at basilpaw and the boy will look up at the older tom. "erm, i think my dad- er, campionsong said that the, um, the great sycamore has some soft moss at its roots." uncertainty fills his mew - he's only been out in the territory with his father and mentor for a few days, his apprentice ceremony happening what seemed like mere moments ago. he shakes his head as if to clear it, blurring the image of his strong and proud leader bestowing upon him his apprentice's name. howlingstar will never be able to give him his warrior name. it's a thought that surfaces unbidden and one he claws down out of his head.

"d-do you think this is gonna be forever?" he sounds oh so very young now, verdant eyes wide as he gazes up at the older warrior. "i don't want to train if skyclaw is gonna give me my warrior name one day." naive little boy, so far from the downy-fluffed nest he'd been raised in only mere day sbefore. basilpaw's breath trembles in his chest. you're a big man, he tells himself, and straightens. big men don't cry.

IF YOU LET IT ALONE 𖤓 IT WILL SURELY GROW

• // sorry for the absolute yapping that this post is, muse exploded lmao no need to match <3 "#FAC966"
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  BASILPAW 𖤓 HE / THEY, APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. MENTORED BY CAMPIONSONG. SIBLING TO MERLINPAW, WOLFPAW. 6 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a cream ticked tabby with high white, and green eyes. a tall boy sporting a chaotically ruffled coat of pale cream tabby. darker ticked stripes flow down his fur, and band around his legs and face. his chest, stomach, muzzle, and most of his tail are white, and he has ferny-green eyes that sparkle with mischief.
  

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[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

"I guess we ought to head that way then," he grumbled, quickening his pace as he turned in the direction of the great tree. It had been so long since Tybalt himself had been moss gathering. His apprenticeship to Hollow Tree had been short and fraught with arguments. He had been nearly grown at his father's death and his joining ThunderClan, and the many moons before that had prepared him for living on his own just fine. He remembered gathering moss, shredding it into useless strips with his foreclaws. He had been outraged to have been given such a menial task.

Basilpaw spoke again, looking up at him with round eyes as Tybalt was pulled away from his memories. The apprentice's voice shook, and he appeared even smaller now than he had moments ago. He wanted to know if this would last forever. "It won't," Tybalt stated firmly. "He'll never be granted his nine lives, not while Flamewhisker still lives." His tail whipped from side to side as he spoke, his eyes focused only onto the horizon in front of him. "It is easier to end one life than it is to end nine." The statement was flat and matter-of-fact. "Once Skyclaw is gone, the rest of them won't last very long. And if I have any say in it, he won't be around for very long."

// no worries! yap away!