saving light — crochet

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The older warrior hadn’t been present when Doeblaze’s sister showed up near the border, instead hearin’ it from his littermate who came saunterin’ into camp with a cheeky grin excludin’ ‘I know somethin’ you don’t’. His breath rattled deep within his chest, helm twistin’ to stare at Crochet with creased brows, hummin’ thoughtfully before jerkin’ his helm forward, mangled ear twistin’ in contemplation. “How about we take it easy for the first few days? It’s about time ya get used to the territory and go over a few rules that ya’ll need to know first-paw then workin’ our way up to some physical trainin’.” He rumbled gravelly, wooly plumage skimmin’ the ground.

He paused, waitin’ for the shadowed apprentice to come up to his side, havin’ taken the lead in bringin’ the molly toward the Sandy Ravine, tucked away on the western side of the territory, helm tiltin’ to gesture toward the dried riverbed with a quiver of transparent whiskers. “This here is where we train apprentices, though expect to see a few warriors sparrin’ when it ain’t rainin’, but it safer than doin’ it in camp and riskin’ someone gettin’ injured.” He began, timbre a low, rumbled drawl.

“This ain’t too important, so I ain’t gonna expect ya to remember it, but the kiddos gotta be at least six moons before becomin’ apprentices they’re 12 moons when they get their warrior names by the current leader. In this case, that white n’ orange molly ya see around camp — Orangestar.” He rumbled, pausin’ to wait for any questions Crochet might have, not before addin’ a quiet, “Got any questions that need answerin’ kiddo?”

@Crochet ​

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thought speech​

 

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ duskpool is a true warrior, crochet decided as soon as her eyes landed on him. a hulking, broad solider (was every guy in this clan massive?) cut from obsidian, harvested from distant volcanoes. wide eyes stared him down, flicking an ear back at him almost in a copycat fashion. he explains they’ll take it easy for now, that is simple enough, however it means that this it. from this point on, there’s no turning back.

a colorful collar jingles rhythmically as she trots after. crochet wants to inappropriately ask why he’s walking so stiffly, and how those scars were chiseled into his form. skyclan warriors look like they were ripped from the dirt, molded with large claws, scarred bodies— will that be her? the rounded edges of her cheeks, delicate paws, all poked and prodded until they fit skyclan’s mold. her paws feel itchy at the sight of the sandy ravine, remembering how she ached to roll around in the dirt outside. she can’t wait to start learning the big kid stuff.

"i talked to her. she’s…. intimidating." she says, swishing her tail across the sand. "what’s with the names, anyways? bobbie said her name’s something like doeblaze and everyone has a similar kind… do i have to change it? can i choose it?" baby blue eyes twinkle at the thought.​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A guttural hum escaped the warrior, molten hues narrowin’ in thought. “She can seem that way.” He mused after a brief pause, sweepin’ a fiery gaze across the dried riverbed, already drawin’ up plans once they got the basics out of the way to the nitty gritty of bein’ a warrior which was learnin’ how to fight and hunt, not just providin’ for the clan but for yerself. “She ain’t all that bad once ya get to know her, but bein’ leader takes a toll on ya over the moons.” He carried on with a languid shrug of broad shoulders, bulky frame shiftin’ causin’ muscle to ripple beneath obsidian fur.

“Names are a tricky thing. I wasn’t always Duskpool, back when I was nothin’ more than a loner, same with yer sister. She hadn’t taken on a name till recently, so I’d reckon Orangestar will let ya keep it till yer ready.” He mused, wooly plumage sweepin’ idly in a semi-arc, mangled ears swivelin’ in thought. “Gettin’ one ain’t black n’ white. I’d reckon many of us took one for different reasons. I know I did, but like I said, it ain’t got to change unless yer ready to move onto the next chapter of yer life as a SkyClanner, new name or not.” He finished with a guttural rumble, helm jerkin’, signalin’ for the shadowed duo to move to the next section of territory.

Calloused paw pads skimmed the paw-treaded earth, figurin’ they were close enough to see Tallpine. “Ya see that pine tree over there?” He grunted, wooly plumage curlin’ over broad shoulders to point at the massive pine tree towerin’ over the majority. “That there is Tallpine. The tallest tree out here and a heck of a task tryin’ to climb. It ain’t for newbies like yerself, but we’ll get to practicin’ that soon enough.”

Since dislocatin’ his shoulder, Duskpool hadn’t all been willin’ to see if he could climb, not wantin’ to risk pullin’ the damn think out of its socket again, but the old fool ain’t always great with self-preservation. “Ya got any climbin’ under that fur of yers?” He tossed over his shoulder, glancin’ at the shadowed apprentice. ​

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thought speech​

 

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ so… there was a leader, warriors, apprentices ( her! ), something with babies and something with bad-smelling plants. the metaphorical list she builds in her head grows steady, each little thing stored carefully in her brain. the prospect of names twitches her ears, and she hums delightfully in acknowledgement– the list is scribbled away to be trashed aside, replaced with concepts of names.

crochet bounds after the obsidian figure, round eyes blinking along the sights of the territory. they land on the massive tree up ahead, it’s unnatural height showcased with a ripple of sunlight. "it looks like what i’d have at home. kind of," her head tilts, the warm memories fresh in her mind. a cozy living room, leaping around cat-trees and bookshelves until she tired herself out. goodness, she hated those days where they had to be cleaned.

"yes, sir." she nods! "i’m a cat, aren’t i? it’s in my bones! i’ll scale tallpine no sweat and then orangestar will name me tallpine jr.!"​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Shakin’ his helm, Duskpool glanced upward, molten copper orbs narrowin’ at the sight of Tallpine, standin’ proud amongst its brethren like a commander in the throng of its people — a staple for SkyClan and deservin’ of braggin’ rights to the few who’ve accomplished it. He knew damn well that he’d never breach the first few branches without his shoulder frothin’ in pain, tearin’ muscle and ligament and Duskpool ain’t all that thrilled to be cooped up in the medicine den with Dawnglare breathin’ down his neck for his stupidity. The journey had been one thing, painful and sometimes Duskpool nearly wanted to give up, but pureblooded stubbornness and a strong fatherly will to see his kids kept him going.

A mangled ear swiveled, throat vibratin’ with a low, guttural rumble in acknowledgment. “Hope ya are, kiddo, we can’t be havin’ a small dog joinin’ now can we?” He grunted, timber heavy with sarcasm, though subtle against the drone of his voice. “One day, maybe, but these next few months ain’t gonna be that day. Suggest ya get familiar with gettin’ yer paws off the ground before ya attempt that.” He waved a wooly plumage. Might be needin’ another warrior to teach ya climbin’ because this old fool ain’t a spring chicken anymore. He briefly thought, jerkin’ his helm in a ‘let’s go’ motion.

“Ain’t much light left, so best be hurryin’ to the other landmarks before stomachs start rumblin’. Reckon the Rockpile is next, nothin’ but a popular spot for huntin’ mice and where youngsters go to hang out.” Did his voice always get hoarse? Talkin’ to damn much is what it is. ​

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thought speech​