sensitive topics self destruct, right on time | left alone

Laurelpaw.

bye bye baby blue
Dec 11, 2023
29
5
3


//Some anxiety and spooky delusions but nothing too descriptive and please wait for @Bonepaw. to reply first!

Starclan, how did he always find Bonepaw at his side during patrols. The idiot was always blabbering and making his own life difficult, and yet he couldn't shake him.

They were on a evening hunting patrol, the warriors lagged behind the apprentices that were with them. Everyone seemed a little sluggish and bored with the patrol in all honesty. It wasn't late enough for it to be a nice temperature and the humidity was tiring. Laurelpaw could feel the damp hot air weigh his fur down as he padded alongside the other apprentices. He wasn't talking and was quite zoned out, he had been training hard that morning and didn't have really any break during the day, he was getting burned out and would rather the day just be over already. Bonepaw had been yammering on and on, probably poking fun at him and he had tuned it out. He could see the paws of the other apprentice just out of the corner of his eyes and so he assumed that Bonepaw was keeping them on track with the other cats.

Deafening silence broke through Laurelpaw's daze. He looked up finally, and there was no one.

Blazing orange eyes frantically looked around the small clearing he was now in. Before this moment he would have said that he was a pretty brave cat, that most things didn't scare him. To be fair he did only just find out that isolation could be a fear, now that it stared him right in the face. The trees encircling the clearing appeared to be closing in on him, covering up the now rapidly dimming sky. His breath caught in his throat, he began to remember all the apprentices that had been in what he could only assume were similar situations. He had thought of it like a curse, ShadowClan apprentices seemed at absurdly high likelihood of being maimed, killed or made to vanish. It had always been something he held in the back of his head, he was careful, he was smarter than those before him.

Yet here he stood, alone, vulnerable, just like each one before him. He was locked in this fear, it would not release him as his mind danced nightmares around him. Nightmares that seemed far closer now than they had when he was sleeping in his nest, with other cats around him, with safety almost always guaranteed. He stumbled around ever so slightly, his body eager to move, to try and figure out how to save himself. But, his mind simply lagged too far behind to be any use to the ready limbs. Like a deer in headlights the boy is frozen waiting for a demise. It's dark, he can't see any stars above him, even the dead had abandoned him now. He swore he could see eyes all around him, hear the snap of twigs, the rumble of feet slamming into the ground around him, and yet the death he thought was promised to those that wandered too far was not being delivered.


"speech"
 
*+:。.。 TW: Abusive thoughts, bullying behavior: targeting

Starclan seemed to be smiling down upon Bonepaw with that malicious grin of theirs for it seemed that every time Bonepaw was in his worst mood, he was assigned to the same patrol as Laurelpaw. When had Laurelpaw become the scapegoat for Bonepaw's problems, the cinnamon-silver couldn't tell you. What he did know was that seeing the blue tabby tom lit a fire in Bonepaw's stomach he wasn't sure whether Laurelpaw's suffering would douse or further ignite. It felt grossly simplistic to describe it that way, but Bonepaw wasn't the wishy-washy type - he knew what he was doing was wrong, and he didn't care. With Snowypaw's departure and the irritating, insufferable, agonizing reminder that she wasn't coming back, no matter how desperately his clan searched for it, Bonepaw had hurt that he knew only one way to deal with - spread it. It so happened that laurels made for perfect kindling.

Bonepaw was not normally the chatty type, but on this patrol, he babbles away like any other apprentice his age. It's not too difficult. Despite not being the social type, Bonepaw's extensive people-watching ensured that he had plenty of ammo when it came to conversation topics. Each cat he patrolled with he knew one or two things about, enough to catch their interest and get their focus on him and not the blue tabby trailing behind. It's almost painfully easy herding the patrol away from Laurelpaw, capturing them all in a reverting conversation he's not entirely paying attention to. Pretty soon, the patrol leaves Laurelpaw behind, and Bonepaw follows them long enough for one to finally ask-
Wait, where's Laurelpaw?

Without hesitation, Bonepaw meows, "I overheard him mentioning pulling a burr out of his pelt. Ill go get him and bring him back, you guys stay here" he says with a convincing smile. Ensuring the patrol members wait patiently, Bonepaw acts the part of a worried clanmate, leaping into the bushes in a rush before quickly slowing his pace once he's out of sight.
It's satisfying to see how far the patrol managed to go without Laurelpaw. Bonepaw's eager to use that fact against him. But no cruel words would need to leave his tongue when he finally came upon Laurelpaw - the boy was a nervous wreck all on his own.

Bonepaw watched Laurelpaw spin around in the clearing like a lizard's abandoned tail tip. Lowering himself into a crouch so he's not easily seen, Bonepaw merely watches. Of course, for all the cinnamon-silver's cruelty, he knew the risks of leaving Laurelpaw completely on his lonesome, so he had some precautions in place. It wasn't like he wished death upon Laurelpaw just...Anyway, the patrol, although far enough, was still within shouting distance, and if anything did pop up, Bonepaw would help save Windclan's-abandoned-hostage if it came to it.

But for now, the tom would enjoy the show, smirking as Laurelpaw looked the part of a total fool, ready to cry all because he couldn't remember how to follow a scent trail. Panic was quite the brain-blocker, wasn't it? Bonepaw would wait as long as possible before helping. He wondered if he was about to see the Deputy's son actually start to cry.





  • GENERAL:
    Shadowclan — apprentice
    DMAB— He/Him — Unsure
    6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Son to Ferndance x Needledrift
    Littermates with Bloodpaw, Shadepaw, Snowypaw
    Half-brother to Gigglekit, Morelkit, Branchkit
    Apprenticed to Nightwhisper



    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #738171
    injuries: None currently
 
it was rather simple. no one should have been out of camp alone. no one. it was too dangerous in shadowclan for them to even allow it– even more dangerous when there is so many possible threats roaming around the territory all the time. they made the rule to keep cats safe– apprentices shouldn't have even been without their mentors or other reliable warriors to prevent anything from happening to them. if cats would simply listen to rules, clan life would be a hell of a lot easier, now wouldn't it? this is no exception. they're within a small patrol of cats when the scent of another patrol catches their nose. they narrow their eyes as they see the warriors but not the apprentices that were supposed to be with them. they briefly sniff the air before trotting after the scent, only to find a lone laurelpaw and no bonepaw. he's around, they know that much, but it's much too late to play these games. they flick their tail and mutter under their breath.

"someone go find bonepaw. his scent is around here."

they move over to laurelpaw, seeing the panic in his eyes. poor thing was left here and that's never good. they flick their torn ear, gently moving to flick their tail across the young apprentice's flank.

"hey, laurelpaw. can you hear me, kiddo? take a deep breath, alright? you're safe. easy. you're not alone."

he must feel that way all the time. he never really felt like he fit in to shadowclan after being taken to windclan but he wouldn't fit in there, either, would he? they want nothing more than for him to feel safe here. at home. but he must do this himself. until then, they can offer as much support as they are allowed.

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---

  •  
  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
    47 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 


Having participated in a countless amount, Smogmaw knows the sequence and rhythm of every hunting patrol by heart. A smattering of warriors and a sprinkling of apprentices, keeping in close proximity from the outset until the moment prey-scent wafts through their whiskers. From then onward, they'll scatter and pursue different scent trails while operating in the same general area. There's a few variables, such as the weather and terrain conditions, but almost always will they regroup once the quarry is caught. The repetition has left him in such a complacent state that any mishap disrupts the pattern, and him by extension.

Laurelpaw isn't present. His son, self-same in pelt and borderline so in temperament, hasn't been seen since straying off-course. Bonepaw raises the fact casually, and even suggests his patrolmates lollygag during his retrieval. That's not necessary. Dangers of all sorts lurk in this territory, and even the most seasoned marsh-dwelling cat may be felled by a muddy pit or sinkhole. He'd heard no remarks about burr-pulling or anything of the sort. He hadn't heard a peep from Laurelpaw whatsoever. The tawny apprentice turns tail, and the deputy starts to shadow him after a brief delay.

Along the trek, Bonepaw also disappears into the undergrowth, leaving two apprentices unaccounted for and a deputy mildly confounded. "Where'd you go, huh? Bonepaw?" No response but the pine boughs swaying overhead. Pressing onwards at a brisker pace, Smogmaw's forehead gives way to a crease when he picks up on Chilledstar's voice, curiously enough. Before the moment slips away does he see his leader alongside his son, both in a small opening untouched by foliage or thicket, the latter visibly distressed.

His expression flinches, and his movement dwindles to a fault. He does not intend to engulf the younger tom in concern identical to Chilledstar's. In tandem, Smogmaw should like to know what troubled Laurelpaw so profoundly as to shake his spine and stick his ears aloft. Might he have hurt himself? Saw or smelled a predator? Regardless of what'd happened, the boy lost his bearings while hunting.

Remaining in the backdrop, Smogmaw scoffs silently, simply waiting for the apprentice to speak his piece, unfluff his fur, and recuperate with the patrol he'd put to a halt.

 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- Children were so moldable, yet parasites in their own rights. These two weren't too young, as the molly circles Smogmaw and Chilledstar, she notices that the two are worried for the first apprentice gone missing. Her eyes roll as they begin to walk away, following after the two apprentices. She follows along, an excuse that she would protect the two she admired much more than others if something were happen.

What she sees is a trembling, wobbling, sniffling mess of a kit trying to figure out what to do with himself.

Pitiful. Disgusting.

She feels her face twist into a grimace of disgust, turning her face away as to not make it too obvious. It takes a second for her to fully settle down, lips relaxing into neutrality and eyes returning to their lifeless, cold dullness. Big paws carry her to a nearby tree, overgrown and winding about. She sniffs it absent-mindedly, not intruding on the comforting moment of the worm that so direly needed it.

"We are exposed out here." She mentions bluntly, turning her stare to Chilledstar and Smogmaw. "Where is Bonepaw?" She wonders aloud, tail whipping behind her as she peers around the little area they remained at. Something could snap them all up for dinner.. How amusing, the thought of these apprentices running for their lives to hide behind the adults.

  • HOLLOWMASK she/her, warrior of shadowclan, thirty moons.
    big, bulky body that stands at 10in, with long, wild and spiky fur. gives off eerie vibes despite oftentimes seen smiling.
    no close friends // dislikes nobody // no mate, no children.
    will kill / will not show mercy / will rarely flee
    [DANGER!!] this character is cunning, manipulative, sadistic, and controlling yet hiding under a friendly guise. please proceed with caution when interacting with her. ic opinions/actions are ic only.
    attempts at healing is permitted, peaceful powerplay is permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by @icaria ↛ @icariarests on discord, feel free to dm for plots.