private RUBY RED >> bluepaw

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

Harrierstripe hovers over Bluepaw’s nest, ”Are you awake?” he asks with a grumbly voice. His shadow looms over his small blue sister, shielding her from the rays of the sun as it stained the sky orange. He glances torwards the leaders den in search of a sign that the WindClan leader has awoken, not yet does her smokey pelt slip out from the shadows. He’d have some time then before Bluepaw was instructed on todays duties, good.

Looking back to Bluepaw he crouches down, clearly trying to keep whatever he had to say between themselves. ”Has she said anything to you the past couple of days?” Vaguely he asks, hoping she’d get the hint without having to further humiliate himself. A brief enough silence is enough for him to grow convince though he needed to be more direct, not that Bluepaw was incapable of reading between lines. ”Has Sootstar said anything about me? Is she mad?” ’At me?’ He bites his lip and gives a nervous upwards twitch of his tail.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• >> @BLUEPAW
• 
  » Harrierkit . Harrierpaw . Harrierstripe
  » WindClan Warrior
  » He/him
  » A black and chocolate chimera with golden eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe who uses jeers and taunts to distract his opponents.
  » Excels in using terrain to his advantage.
  » Fights to overpower and see another day.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[BLUEFROST]

“Are you awake,” comes a growl—it tears into her dream like teeth through a placenta, and she stirs, blinking up at the shadow that looms over her. Sleepy green eyes flick to her paws, which are clean, stained faintly with tunnel dirt she had been too tired to properly groom away. She stifles a yawn behind a polite white-tipped paw, her nose twitching with distaste. “I am not due for a patrol until sunhigh,” she complains. “For what reason do you disturb my beauty sleep?”

A tattered ear flicks as her littermate stretches beside her, his fox-like features creased with worry. Harrierstripe’s voice is low, clearly for her benefit alone. “Has she said anything to you the past couple of days?” Bluepaw’s voice is dry. “We do not chatter like birds on a branch,” she says. Her mother—especially while working—is not the gossiping type typically, though she remembers days under brighter suns, Weaselclaw cleaning dust from her coat as she laughed with the other tunnelers. Those days are all but gone, snuffed out like the light from Sootstar’s green eyes.

“Has Sootstar said anything about me? Is she mad?” Bluepaw’s eyes widen just slightly with interest. “Mad? Well… as you can imagine, she is not happy that you left her enemy alive… but I would not say she is mad…” She lifts the ivory paw back to her tongue, cleaning it vigorously so she has something to fill the impending silence with.

, ”​

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