private RATHER BURN OUT THAN SAVE IT \ heronpaw

Though it has been many seasons since Iciclefang has muddied her paws with apprentice tasks, she heads to the elder's den without shame. There is none, she thinks stubbornly, in caring for those who had served RiverClan diligently until their bodies had worn down. As an apprentice, she might have turned her nose up at the chore just as any young 'paw might now, but as a seasoned warrior and someone who has served on two leaders' councils and had her needs tended to as a queen, Iciclefang knows the core of Clan life is servitude.

Part of her does feel a little sorry for @HERONPAW ! . He'd been disrespectful, yes, and he did deserve to be punished for that, but Iciclefang had not missed the bad-tempered malice exuding from Midnightash. She hadn't disciplined the young apprentice in good faith; she'd done it out of spite and some personal anger. Still, what's done is done, and she'd not question a lead warrior — even one only a moon or so out of the apprentice's den.

"Here," she murmurs to Heronpaw, handing him a wad of fresh moss. "Start building a new nest. I'll collect the old bedding so we can throw it out." She extends her claws, claws that are well-honed and have seen many battles, and begins to shred the soiled old bedding to make it easier to roll up and dispose of.

The two of them work in silence for a few heartbeats. Iciclefang does not mind that. She had offered her assistance for many reasons, but to forge some kind of friendship had not really been one of them.

"The last apprentice who made this one was careless," she notes, her nose wrinkling. "There are more thistles in this than a spider has legs." Her ear twitches disapprovingly. "I only hope that wasn't Pinefrost." Her daughter won't be making elder's beds anymore, but she has only just left the apprentice's den herself; it's as likely as any that her former apprentice had been the one to build this nest. Iciclefang only hopes she'd taught her better than that.

… ❞
 
The public humiliation was over and it feels like it shouldn't be. Why was it that the young apprentice should be embarrassed? Heronpaw stalks behind Iciclefang with a heavy weight sagging against his shoulders. The weight sounds in the thumping of over heavy, large paws. His thick tail twitched from side to side, unseen eyebrows knotted together, and sideswept ears burned from fury or embarrassment while blood roared through his veins.
Unjust.
Unfit.

Every word that described an unworthy feline raced through the torrential river that was his thoughts. The thick furred tomcat held his jaw clenched as that well-maintained fur bristled along his spine. The feline was the pure, uncut image of rage. It radiated off him like the heat that would pulse from sunning rocks. Iced over eyes watched as the she-cat slipped inside the den that she declared she'd help him with.

The tomcat ducks into the elders' den after her and sets himself up near the other side. Needle-sharp claws would begin to tear at the dirty, used moss. They were claws that had never seen battle, but they had known all too well the ripping sensation of moss. Heronpaw took in a deep, calming breath through his nose then loosed it from his mouth. He would close his eyes and repeat the breathing pattern. This was not a terrible task or punishment, for the apprentice often found comfort in the elders' stories of moons past. It reminded him of kittenhood. The boiling pit in his stomach cooled to a low simmer, but it could easily be brought back to a boil.

"Here,"

Those ice flecked eyes startled open and met the deep pools of Iciclefang's. They flicked down at the clean moss being offered to him before securing it within his own webbed paws. Nodding and chewing on his lip, Heronpaw turned to begin forming new nests with careful paws. Before thinking better of it he was stumbling through simple words, "Uh- Thank you for helping me..." Turning his body slightly to face the calico. "You didn't have to-" An abrupt stop as he swallows the lump of pride lodged in his throat. "You didn't have to save my tail, but thank you."

Silence rises again as he turns back to working on the new nests. Then, she's talking about her daughter and the poor construction of the nest.
"I only hope that wasn't Pinefrost."

"Pinefrost-" That was Iciclefang's daughter, a cat born from two cats in different clans. It was against tradition though she was a fine and loyal RiverClanner. "I don't think she was assigned to the elders' den recently. She was very brave for what she did at sunning rocks." Those crystal eyes flicked up toward the she-cat as he talked about her daughter. Pinefrost deserved and earned her warrior name.
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  • ooc. I'm sorry this is so late!
  • HERONPAW —— apprentice of riverclan . mentored by tarantulamask
    penned by DROID
    male . he/him . eight moons . ages every 19ᵗʰ
    physically easy . mentally easy . honest . fair . judgmental
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted . tag account when attacking
    —— no combat experience and/or training

    "speech", thoughts, attacks
    all opinions are in character
  • 91539564_cU1KUzQs6zpxtxZ.png

    a longhaired blue lynx point with low white and blue eyes. a feathery soft, longhaired, and thick furred tomcat of beautiful blue pigments. eyes a bright electrifying blue. strong and sturdy legs held by white webbed paws dimpled with pink pads. fangs peek out from under his lips due to their curious length. well cared for fur is attached to lean, hard packed newly earned muscle. an unconventional teenage heartthrob followed by a thick air of fresh apprentice confidence.
 
Though Iciclefang tries her best to put Heronpaw's fury out of her mind, she can feel it radiating from the young tom's dusk-colored body. He goes to the opposite end of the elder's den, tearing another old mass of bedding into bits before she offers him the clean moss. He seems startled to find her still present, remaining true to her word — the wintry mix of his gaze fixes on hers, and he murmurs, "Thank you for helping me." It's hesitant, but genuine, she thinks, and the tortoiseshell gives him a nod in return.

"You didn't have to —" He stops himself, perhaps remembering the rank she'd held before her fall from grace. Is he recalling that I was in Midnightash's place only moons ago? Iciclefang regards him with cool blue eyes. "Don't mention it," she says, noncommittal. She won't tell him what she had felt, in that moment, watching the young she-cat who'd replaced her spit venom at the apprentice for his impudence. She won't tell him how her own indignance had begun to thicken in her throat, to spread through her body like disease.

Her comment about Pinefrost brings Heronpaw's attention back to her. "I don't think she was assigned to the elders' den recently," he tells her, and Iciclefang only grunts an acknowledgment. She should know, but truthfully, even before her daughter's warrior ceremony, the rift between them had become something of a chasm. And then he mentions Sunningrocks. Bravery.

Iciclefang pauses; her paws cease their kneading, if only for a few stuttering heartbeats. "She… she was brave, yes. Is brave." Pain colors her voice, constricts her throat, as she remembers the reason Pinefrost had survived that battle, remembers the way Stormywing had thrown herself before their daughter and begged for Flamestar to spare her life.

She remembers, too late, that Heronpaw can see her misery. "You'll have your chance to prove yourself in battle soon, I'm sure. ThunderClan will not let us sit on Sunningrocks for long." She straightens, her mottled tail flicking impatiently behind her. "Have you fought before? A true battle, I mean. Not a spar." Iciclefang tears her eyes from the bedding to Heronpaw, curiosity replacing the lost look in her gaze.


… ❞
 
The bulky apprentice sat, paws working absently, while crystal eyes watched the emotion flicker across the calico's face. They were dancing across her face like a flame. Those emotions turned this way and that way while white paws paused in their motions.
Misery.
Was there also some sadness? A loneliness?
Were they all related to her daughter? All of her children? A lover out of reach? The lad would not know these answers. He wasn't the she-cat in question and he didn't know Iciclefang well or understand her motives, but he could see the misery. It was written across her face and hung in the heavy air, so much so that a blind cat could even see it. Heronpaw lowers his eyes when he sees it all change to a steeled expression. The feline dawned the pain like dented armor. There wasn't pride in wearing it, yet there was no other choice. A spurned knight with nothing left besides her honor.

"You'll have your chance to prove yourself in battle..."

The idea makes the blue hued tom suck in a short breath. Battle. It caused the heart in his chest to skip a beat and flutter like bird trapped between claws. Was he worthy to fight with RiverClan as he currently sat? Would he be worthy when the time came to prove his worth? Heronpaw tried to swallow a growing lump of anxiety.

"Have you fought before? A true battle, I mean. Not a spar."

And he coughed as the lump lodged itself deeper in his throat. Crystal eyes flickered up to Iciclefang, but tore away when his frozen gaze locked onto her deep water pools. A harsh heat began creeping through his cheeks and burned the tips of his ears. Heronpaw lets out a short, sharp raspy sound from his throat that fails to dislodge the steadfast lump. A sharp mutter hums past his maw, "No." The single word was clipped and followed by a tightly clenched jaw.

Silence filled the space while they were working.

Heronpaw worked at the misshapen nest with sharp tugging claws. The apprentice's large, heavy paws worked it into submission as he reshaped the rim. There were words simmering below the surface, but they would not be contained long. Tarantulamask, though a helpful mentor, had been mostly absent in the young tom's training. Heronpaw would rely on others for battle practice and often found himself lagging behind the others when it came to a spar. Heronpaw was more than likely to be the one with his face smashed into the sand of the beech copse's clearing.

"In fact, I haven't had much battle practice in general." It was spewed from his mouth like bitter bile. A resentment briefly seeped into his expression as he thought of his mentor. With a sigh, "I'm sorry. That was rude. Tarantulamask is teaching me well enough."
He's just busy teaching me to fish and hunt.
That crystal gaze flashed up to Iciclefang. Tipping his chin and pricking his ears, "You mentored Pinefrost, right? What's it like having been a mentor?" And before he could shut his mouth an idea slipped from his loose tongue. It rushed through his maw, "Could you teach me to fight like that too?" Shock crossed his gaze as it was coming out of his mouth. It was as if he wasn't expecting himself to say it. To ask it. Iciclefang was barred from mentoring because of her treachery, but was love such a treacherous thing? It was a punishment that was passed onto her by the rest of her clan. She was unable to train another young mind until further notice, but Pinefrost came out loyal. Pinefrost had killed a ThunderClanner at Sunning Rocks over Sunning Rocks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Heronpaw tore away his frozen gaze and began chewing on his bottom lip. The burning sensation warming his cheeks, burning his ears, and making the fur prickle along his spine.
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  • ooc.
  • HERONPAW —— apprentice of riverclan . mentored by tarantulamask
    penned by DROID
    male . he/him . eight moons . ages every 19ᵗʰ
    physically easy . mentally easy . honest . fair . judgmental
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted . tag account when attacking
    —— no combat experience and/or training

    "speech", thoughts, attacks
    all opinions are in character
  • 91539564_cU1KUzQs6zpxtxZ.png

    a longhaired blue lynx point with low white and blue eyes. a feathery soft, longhaired, and thick furred tomcat of beautiful blue pigments. eyes a bright electrifying blue. strong and sturdy legs held by white webbed paws dimpled with pink pads. fangs peek out from under his lips due to their curious length. well cared for fur is attached to lean, hard packed newly earned muscle. an unconventional teenage heartthrob followed by a thick air of fresh apprentice confidence.
 
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ICICLEFANG
SHE / HER ◆ RIVERCLAN WARRIOR

Heronpaw lifts his face and stares at Iciclefang; the frost of his gaze pierces her, even as he offers a clipped response to her question. "No." She nods, unfazed. There were many cats who hadn't had the opportunity to flex their claws in a real battle; after Sootstar's demise, the forest had entered an almost unprecedented time of peace. Her own kits would never have tasted their enemies' blood, had it not been for Lichenstar's calculated decision to retake the Sunningrocks.

But Heronpaw appears put-off by the question, or perhaps by the answer he'd been forced to give. The two of them work in silence, side-by-side, until he finally breaks the quiet with his frustration. "In fact, I haven't had much battle practice in general." Iciclefang glances up, her blue gaze sharp with interest. Heronpaw seems to realize his folly; he apologizes and says Tarantulamask is training him just fine.

The tortoiseshell considers this for a moment before she replies. "Hunting and fishing are important. Keeping the Clan fed is something we all must work hard to do." She flicks her tail tip. "But protecting our territory and defending the weak is just as important. You are too young to remember the night WindClan raided our camp and killed one of our warriors." Intensity simmers somewhere beneath the sapphire of her gaze. "We were already at a disadvantage. Our camp had flooded after the river froze, so we had to make camp at the Beech Copse. They found out, somehow… and we were ambushed in our nests."

She studies the moss scraps at her paws. "It's not likely Scorchstar would do something like that, but you never know which leaders will be honorable and which will be hungry for chaos." Iciclefang begins to knead the old bedding, tearing chunks away like an afterthought.

Heronpaw asks her about mentoring Pinefrost, and Iciclefang stills. What's it like, indeed. "It's a great honor, to be trusted to guide our future warriors." It's a diplomatic answer, and likely not what he's looking for. She sighs. "That is why Lichenstar has stripped me of the privilege. It's hardly fitting for a codebreaker to train cats who are expected to be loyal." She pauses her work entirely, now, letting the moss sit untouched.

"Could you teach me to fight like that too?"

Iciclefang jerks in surprise; she meets Heronpaw's wide-blown eyes. He seems as shocked as she is that he's asked her such a thing, and he's quick to try and bury the proposal in apologies. Iciclefang mews, "Is that something you really want?" Her expression is steady. "I… don't have an apprentice of my own right now." She shrugs. "And it may be some time before I have another. So… if you're serious…" She nods. It's a promise, one that lays between them like a secret.

ooc:
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Iciclefang is a warrior of RiverClan. She has a muscular build beneath short, sleek tortoiseshell fur. The upper half of her muzzle breaks into white, stretching up and across her face in a sharp point. Her paws and the tip of her tail are white, as well. Iciclefang's eyes are a deep blue.

Mudpelt x Icesparkle / sibling to Lilybloom, Steepsnout, Darkwhisker, Ferngill / mate to none / former mate to Stormywing / mother to Cragpaw, Pinefrost, and Crabchill
mentored by Smokestar / previously mentored Cicadaflight and Pinefrost / mentoring none
33 moons old as of 02/17/2025
penned by Marquette