camp RUNAWAY NIGHTS ╱ EXHAUSTED

FROSTPAW.

BLACK DOG IN MY HEAD
Jun 2, 2023
12
3
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Frostpaw flops to his brand new nest in absolute, resolute silence. The horizon swallows up the sun, distant trees making up a beastly lower jaw that chomps, chomps, chomps the blazing ball to almost nothing. There will still be time before it's fully taken, but from where he rests he can do nothing but stare at it and watch. Above them, he's certain the sky is darkening to a deep blue, and then to black. His first night out here had been strange. Even with his siblings sharing similar places throughout WindClan's camp, the shelter of the nursery and family was far from him. It got a little bit easier as the hours wore on. And by now– he has nothing left in him but exhaustion, no room to care about the stars at all. His paws throb. The tunnels were not as scary as he had prepared himself for just yet, though he knows he has only just touched the shallows of it all. There was more, and scarier, to come.

With how tired he is, Frostpaw can't even feel afraid. He rests limply in his nest, ignoring even his grumbling stomach as he stares off into the fading sun and winces with every stretch of his paws. Surely this would get easier tomorrow.
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  • ooc:
  • frostpaw. named for his coloration, and in memory of tigerfrost.
    —— amab nonbinary, he - him + will soon add they - them. apprentice of windclan.
    —— badgermoon x scorchstreak. sibling to rumblepaw, luckypaw, and scorchpaw.

    frostpaw is remarkably average, all things considered. he is of the expected size and shape, if perhaps a little blockier with his father's influence. his black and white pelt is short and scruffy, and his eyes are nearly the same as they had been at birth, though lightened some to an icy sky blue.
  • "speech"
 
Whitepaw had a tendency to be more active in the night hours, finding comfort underneath the soothing moon despite the heated air from the day. She felt more content and at peace, as she did within the tunnels. Having just arrived at her nest with a bit of prey, she hadn't quite settled down to eat when her ears caught the sound of a grumbling stomach. Blinking over, she spotted Frostpaw, the poor apprentice seemed already worn thin from his first day of training. He probably hadn't eaten yet, huh? Getting up once more on silent paws, she settled beside him, dropping the plump bird and nosing it towards him. "You should eat." She whispered softly, flicking an ear. "It's not easy to sleep on an empty stomach and you'll need good rest for tomorrow." She added with a murmur as she sat beside him, curling her tail around her paws.
[I'M BREATHING]
 


☽༺♰༻☾
hollypaw had undergone her first day of training not long ago. weaselclaw prompting her up before even the sun had risen, the girl was convinced her paws were going to fall off by the time they arrived back at camp. it seemed frostpaw was experiencing the same thing, splayed in his nest not far from where she sat grooming her fur.

whitepaw approached, bird tucked in between ghostly jaws until it was dropped, prodded towards frostpaw. prompted him to eat, spoke about tomorrow. "you'll hurt even more tomorrow." unprompted she joined the conversation, offered the advice of the seasoned apprentice that she was. hollypaw had been sore for days, still her muscles pulled uncomfortably if she moved too quickly. but above that, there was something else. pride, to explore the moors and begin her service to windclan and starclan alike. there was nothing greater, surely frostpaw felt that as well. "how were the tunnels? was it scary?" she asked, ears twitching in interest. littlepaw and scorpionpaw were tunnelers to be as well, but she hadn't seen much of them as their training progressed.
 
She can't help but strut up to these apprentices wanting nothing more to frighten them. Perhaps she should've been more considerate towards these apprentices, but she was not someone who would hide the facts. "The tunnels are always scary," she purrs towards the trio. The tunnels were dark. Those who dwelled too long would find themselves losing their eyesight in the land above. It made sense, after all, sight was useless in the tunnels. Other senses were more useful within the dark world. "When you start off you're nothing more than a helpless mouse. There is nothing to see. There are only scents and feeling your way through the darkness as your guide. A lot of the work of tunnel is memory. The more you get used to it, the better you'll be. Why do you think training is longer? Being a tunneler is far more dangerous." Frostpaw is her nephew, so she in the end she wrangles her mind not to purposely scare him with false tales of beasts that don't exist within the tunnels. Scorchstreak would most likely reprimand her for such a thing.

However, she is not going to lie to her nephew about the dangers of the tunnels. It was natural for him to be terrified of the darkness and have some doubts, but she'd rather him know the risk than be ignorant to the dangers. Little tom has his aunt and uncles with him. He shouldn't worry his pretty little head off. It was true. Scorchstreak's siblings were tunnelers and despite her appearance or how she held herself she would look after Frostpaw and his siblings if she was paired with them.
 
Scorchpaw's first day of training has been similarly exhausting, though it had been executed in a world vastly different from Frostpaw's underground. Badgermoon may be her father, but it does not stop him from working her thoroughly over the golden grasses-- nor does she wish it to be any easier. If this hardship is where WindClan strength comes from, then she would go through it one thousand times over to become the best warrior possible. She would walk the moors as many times as it took to feel the heather in her heart; to have the vastness of the fields at her core.

This is what she tells herself, anyway, as she picks a vole off the fresh kill pile to collapse in her nest not far from her brother's. She does not join in on the apprentices' conversation quite yet, though, instead choosing to listen to Whitepaw's and Hollypaw's advice. Her ear flicks as the ebony apprentice informs Frostpaw that he will only hurt more tomorrow. Would that be true of her, too? Surely tunneling is more difficult than prancing aboveground chasing butterflies and dandelion spores. Bicolor gaze turns cold, and she places it upon Frostpaw like an executioner's axe. If Luckypaw was a tunneler because of his good fortune, then why had Frostpaw been chosen for the path? Why not me? She fails to consider the obvious things, like her brothers' slim frames and small statures; no, there must be some greater reason for the injustice.

But at the end of the day he is still her littermate. Scorchpaw's chilly gaze warms slightly as she stares at the bird Whitepaw has retrieved for him, as if to urge him to eat it. Her aunt chimes in with a sickly sweet purr, speaking more about the tunnels. Scorchpaw thinks she would rather claw her ears off than be laden with more stories about catacombs she will never see. Even the fear is compelling; cats that undergo such things would certainly come out the other side stronger, braver than their topside counterparts. Her mother certainly is.

"I like the moors," Scorchpaw offers through a bite of vole. A flash of pride as she remembers Snakehiss's warning of the hawks; Badgermoon's caution at the gorge. Her tone becomes more resolute, more pleased with herself as she continues: "They can be scary, too."​
 
The bird that is set before him has Frostpaw's head lifting slightly– and then it promptly flops back down. His eyes are still open as he paws it a little bit closer, digging into plush feathers with a hum of unsteady gratitude. Whitepaw is just beginning to stir and go about her duties. Somewhere in the distance, her mentor is doing the same. Stretching, grooming. Would that be nicer? It didn't make much difference in the dark of the tunnels. Daylight or nighttime, it would still be dirt above and below him, and light would not touch his eyes. It had seemed an honor at first. He took to it studiously. When his name was called in the meeting, Sootstar assigning him to his mentor — selfishly, terribly, his heart had soared. Even knowing that he held an honor two of his littermates had been denied. Now, though, he wonders if he wouldn't trade Scorchpaw in a heartbeat. Wasn't it so silly? She looked so much like mom. He looked like dad. Were they backwards? Was he supposed to be in her sun-patched body, and she in his?

He won't tell anyone he's not sure he likes the tunnels. But he does say, "It's not that scary," with a wobbling smile at Hollypaw and Rabbitclaw both. He can feel Scorchpaw's gaze as he speaks, and slowly, obediently, he wrestles himself upright to paw the bird closer and begin his own meal. "It was dark. Almost cold. There were roots sometimes, like whiskers poking out from the dark." Pale eyes drift closed and his chin falls slowly towards his chest, but he sucks in a harsh breath and bolts awake before sleep fully takes him. One still-dirtied paw lifts to rub over his eyes. Immediately he winces at the gritty texture across his fur. "I missed the sun," he whispers, voice still sleepy. "Even if I get swallowed up by a bird." He flashes a tired, crooked grin to Scorchpaw, and plucks some feathers for another bite.
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  • ooc:
  • frostpaw. named for his coloration, and in memory of tigerfrost.
    —— amab nonbinary, he - him + will soon add they - them. apprentice of windclan.
    —— badgermoon x scorchstreak. sibling to rumblepaw, luckypaw, and scorchpaw.

    frostpaw is remarkably average, all things considered. he is of the expected size and shape, if perhaps a little blockier with his father's influence. his black and white pelt is short and scruffy, and his eyes are nearly the same as they had been at birth, though lightened some to an icy sky blue.
  • "speech"
 
  • Love
Reactions: SCORCHSTORM

Already tucked away in his nest (and how strange it is, to be so out in the open?), Luckypaw hardly stirs as Frostpaw collapses nearby, offering a half-hearted wave of his tail in greeting. His own day had been long enough, with plenty more walking than he was quite used to, but more than that, he was tired mentally, too. Sleep the night before had been hard, just knowing that he'd be out and about in the tunnels that very morning, away from his siblings for the first meaningful time, and he could hardly count the worries he'd had the morning of, on the way to the tunnel entrance. Things hadn't been so bad once he was in there, his mentor comforting as she was off-putting at times, though he'd certainly exercised his mind, putting to memory basic tunneling rules and then some. Altogether, it was overwhelming and unexpected and almost-familiar and a hundred more descriptors that Luckypaw didn't have the energy for at that moment. Judging from the silence coming from his brother nearby, he's certain they've had similar first experiences, at least in some way; Scorchpaw and Rumblepaw must surely be tired, too, after covering so much ground and learning about...well, whatever moor runners do on their first days. Frostpaw seems even more tired than he does, though, especially considering he's already had a chance to get comfortable in his nest, which sends all sorts of unspoken questions tripping through his mind, keeping him from rest just as surely as his own thoughts already had been.

Conversation reaches his ears, soft at first and then growing in volume, and initially he tries to tune it out, wanting nothing more than to be rested for the next outing, but as a third voice chimes in, it's nearly impossible. Was it always going to be this noisy at dusk? Luckypaw had never paid much mind to the mundane habits of apprentices like when they went to bed, but if this is normal, he's starting to regret having his nest placed alongside so many others, even if he wouldn't give up sleeping beside his siblings for the world. His head rises up from where it had been pillowed among moss as Rabbitclaw speaks about the tunnels, describing them in such a way that's eerily familiar and yet still sends a shiver down his spine. It's true, that it's dark down there, that it's nothing like being out upon the moors, bathed in sunlight, and it's also true that it is scary down there, at least a little bit, but it feels like a kind of scary that he could get used to. None of these thoughts are added aloud, though, as he watches Scorchpaw and then Frostpaw take their meals, and momentarily it feels almost like being back in the nursery again. Almost. On the subject of whether the moors or the tunnels are scarier, Luckypaw finally breaks his silence. "Yeah, you have to watch out for different things in the tunnels and on the moors, which means they can be different kinds of scary. All kinds of predators, and stuff," though what that 'and stuff' is remains unspoken, active imagination tempered only by inexperience.
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]