senses erased // intro, playing in the snow

[icebreath]

TAGS — She's been spending more time underground than usual as of late — which is saying something, considering her pre-existing inclination toward the labyrinthine tunnels. Icepaw takes a healthy amount of pride in her job, or job-in-training (not just anyone is capable of it, after all) and as such she always pours herself into it, but these days she's particularly drawn to their depths for their quietude, their distance from everything — and almost everyone — else. Better to keep away from the heart of the sickness that's been plaguing WindClan as much as she can; that's the answer she's prepared for anyone who might care enough to ask about her almost obsessive increase in productivity. And it's true, to be fair. This blackcough is quite literally a killer (just the thought makes her stomach sink, poor Wisteriapaw...), and if she comes down with it she'll be stuck quarantined by camp, closer to and unable to distract herself from the biggest source of her anxieties — all the tension. You could slice through it with a claw, or at least that's how it feels to the admittedly nervy feline. The exile, the very blatant concerns of disloyalty... she'd pledged herself to Sootstar upon request, and she'd genuinely meant it. WindClan is everything to her; it's all she's ever known. Or, all she remembers knowing, at least, since she was just a kitten when the moorland group was properly formed. It's all they ever want to know, too, and the thought of living anywhere else is anxiety-inducing. Sootstar's abrasive (and maybe even a little scary), but Icepaw looks up to her nonetheless; she's strong and assertive, like Icepaw aspires to be but knows she'll probably never achieve. She offers protection, firm direction. Icepaw works her tail off to impress her and live up to the expectations she imagines their leader has — no one can question her dedication. She hopes. It's a stressful thought.

So she quells it this evening by working harder. It's time to stop for now, though. An earthy scent clings to her as she trots through the moors, fresh out of the tunnels with dirt-stained fur to show for it, although their pace is starting to slow as weariness settles in. A chilly wind stirs their short pelt, illuminated by the moonlight. Maybe she should hunt on the way back, or check an above-ground border. No, certainly not the latter — not by herself, at least. She pauses for a moment, halfheartedly sniffing the air and shuffling her paws. The thin layer of snow coating the ground shifts and crunches beneath her, drawing her naturally wide gaze downward with twitching ears. After nudging some of it into a small pile, she raises a forepaw and then smacks it down, flattening the lump with a smile before scooping some more up and propelling it into the air.​

 

[crowpaw]

under the eyes of starclan, crowpaw was making her way back to the heart of camp. the crunching and shifting of snow caught the molly's attention, and piercing green eyes scanned to find the source. she settled on icepaw, building up a mound of snow only to bring a killing blow down onto it moments later. how poetic.

tall legs carried crowpaw over as the other apprentice threw snow into the air. in her opinion, enough fell from the sky. despite the girl preferring her snow on the ground, she used her tail to gather up a small mound of her own. white paws formed it into a more solid piece, and she held it between them. this was ridiculous, the idea of pelting snow at her clanmate for fun, still a small part of her couldn't help but want to disturb icepaw's playful peace.

crowpaw stealthily waited for the right moment, keeping her body low to the ground to avoid detection, before throwing the snowball in the direction of the blue point. it landed short, but it wasn't meant to hit them anyways, just to give a little scare. after it landed, she would stand to her full height, shooting icepaw a false apologetic smile. "guess i gotta work on my aim," she said, followed by a chuckle. "what are you doing with it anyways?" crow added, gesturing a paw towards the crushed pile from before.​

[ 𓆩⟡𓆪 ]​

 

[LYNXTOOTH.]

he approaches with raised eyebrows, chest forward, every bit the soldier—piercing amber gaze and ginger mane.

"well, she is not training, certainly..."

he's only half serious, allowing into his voice a touch of amusement. these children are not his own, nor are they his apprentices; if they're going to play like kits in their spare time, someone else can scold them. a smile curls across his face at the thought of gravelpaw's excellence, the child's latest training achievements, foremost son pelting black-and-white across the moors.

and little icepaw is a tunneler, anyway. perhaps their training regimens are... different? less strict? it is a special status, coveted skill to inspire respect, although lynxtooth himself would prefer to run. he is fast; he is perfect. his sons will be just like this too.

"where are your mentors? out this late alone—you're not up to anything delinquent, i hope?" as before, half serious but still teasing. just this side of kind. he does care for windclan's youth, though he determines harsh punishment the best medicine for the many blights of childhood: weakness, disobedience, disrespect.

"first leaf-bare," he finds himself continuing. "i see you're discovering its many charms."

...​

tags.​

 

[slatepaw]

---

slatepaw
6 moons - windclan apprentice - speech​

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮



slatepaw was following soon after his father, keeping his gaze low to the ground as the other apprentices' commotion rang around him.

only when lynxtooth commented on them did the black tom just barely glance up to see what they were doing. they were.. throwing snowballs? though he didn't really feel like playing with crowpaw and icepaw, his paws itched to form something of his own in the cold snow. he would never act on it though, not with his father right next to him, not ever. too many eyes watching him, expecting him to screw up so he could be the next big drama. the next disloyal cat. the next exile.

so, while lynxtooth chatted half-heartedly with the apprentices (slatepaw guessed it took a lot of restraint to not scold them), the young apprentice stayed silent, glancing over at them sideways. he wouldn't scorn them unless lynxtooth willed it, though he wondered if he'd gain approval for doing so.


╰── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

༶•┈┈⛧┈★ just a castaway, an island lost at sea

---

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — They're much too invested in their little game to notice Crowpaw's approach, so the sudden splat of the snowball as it lands right by them sends her jumping with surprise. A sharp, audible intake of breath accompanies the motion, and she quickly turns with prickling fur to see... just one of her clanmates, thank StarClan. It's not long before her relief turns to embarrassment over what was probably an overreaction, which she (perhaps vainly) tries to conceal with a smile and a breathy laugh of her own in response to Crowpaw's remark. "Oh, ah, just messing around." It's hard not to feel a faint sense of shame, as though she's somehow been caught in the act. But that's stupid, because it's not like she's doing anything wrong.

A hesitant but hopeful invitation to join her for more play dies on their lips as Lynxtooth's observation rings out. There's a note of humor in his voice, but that doesn't outweigh the hold his authority and seniority have over her; she visibly clams up, the shame she'd tried to shrug off quickly returning with some ferocity. He sounds like he's just teasing, but what if he's not? She's trying to find the words to tell him where she's coming from as he continues on with the same wryness, and the idea that she might be getting up to trouble — and, more pressingly, that Lynxtooth might think she is — is alarming enough to make her abandon the likely idea of humor just to be sure he fully understands what's going on.

"Oh — no, of course not," they hastily assure him, briskly shaking their head. She tries not to let Slatepaw's additional gaze make her feel even more awkward. "Never! We were just patrolling the tunnels — me and my mentor, not Crowpaw — and then I hung back to, uh. I dunno, just walk around. And then we started playing, and... yeah..." She trails off lamely, feeling more awkward with each passing moment. Is she overreacting again? He was probably just kidding. Gah, she feels stupid. Better for having made it clear that she's not slacking or causing trouble, at least.

The change of subject is beyond welcome. "Yeah!" They're not sure how long leaf-bare's novelty will last, though. "I dunno if I'll ever really love the cold, but it's neat." The tunnels are no different, but at least there's no wind down there to make matters worse. That's a funny thought for a WindClanner to have, she muses. "What other charms are there?"​

 

[crowpaw]

crowpaw stifled a laugh at icepaw's fear, but her head was snapped towards more pawsteps approaching. a ginger warrior with his shadow of a son approached the pair, whining about how they weren't training. a feathery tail lashed once behind her, but she raised it to form a greeting to the duo. she allowed a small smirk to play onto her maw when lynxtooth demanded the whereabouts of their mentors. hadn't he heard? the warrior would have no luck finding hers unless he traveled to the bottom of the gorge.

still she remains quiet, listening to icepaw scrambling to explain. the molly sat down, making herself comfortable under lynxtooth's piercing gaze. green eyes drifted to slatepaw. a quiet apprentice, constantly overshadowed by his sibling, yet here he was clinging to his father's side and averting his gaze to the ground. she wondered if he would even speak without lynxtooth's blessing. "icepaw's right, the cold sucks, but i'm liking the snow. it makes the few rabbits left much easier to track," crowpaw began after icepaw was finished speaking, pausing to release a small yawn. "how about you, slatepaw? enjoying the season's charms?" she wore a playful grin as she spoke. her words would easily be mistaken as an attempt to include her fellow apprentice in conversation, but a perceptive green gaze was watching carefully, gauging his response.​

[ 𓆩⟡𓆪 ]​

 

[Firefang]

Firepaw from her kit hood was enamored with the tunnels below their very paws; their mystique and wonder driving within her an ambition that'd never prosper - she'd once desperately wanted to be a Tunneler something that once upon of time could've been a reality if it weren't for her own idiocy. It was a childish inclination she knows, there was nothing but dirt darkness and worms to be seen down there, the moors were far more important then any dank dirt hole - she was better off she'd think bitterly. She'd avoided them since her apprentice stint within them, and did her best to avoid those who'd taken the path of the tunnels which frankly wasn't hard Firepaw had the inclination to avoid most her peers always skirting around them outside of training. The warriors were still too old for the most part for her to relate too and the apprentices she just, didn't know what to say to them especially Tunnelers like Icepaw and the rest; sure she tried to ignore their existence and only cast the occasional scathing glare yet like a moth to flame she occasionally found herself drawn to them regardless. Icepaw most of all she found the other she-cat thoroughly annoying maybe it was just her stupid soft fur and pretty eyes or the fact she never tried to hiss back at her whenever she snipped the occasional remark at her - she just didn't get her at all how could someone like her be a Tunneler? She was a complete freak in Firepaw's eyes and so were the rest of the Tunneler apprentices, made her wonder if she ever really should've been considered to be one in the first place. She just... Didn't fit in with them then and especially now
.
She'd been trying and failing to pick up a scent on the moors when instead she picks up the scent of her clanmates close by, she could've ignored them really and continued but she knew it was about time to head back to camp anyway and since they were on the way she may as well. Her jaw sets claws scoring across the snow as she pads along body always seeming to hang low not quite in a crouch but close to one. Her ears swivel at the sound of meows and of the shuffling of snow. Her gaze flicks between her clanmate, from Lynxtooth to his son, and then to Crowpaw and finally Icepaw who her gaze harshens at. Looked like they were playing some sort of game with the snow, something akin to moss ball for a moment she debates trying but the thought is fleeting she just digs her claws further into the snow the cold causing a slight pain to course up her paws to her legs. The older apprentice huffs seeming daring enough to start something despite Lynxtooth's authority likely spurring off any other cats ideas of starting something. Apart of her knows better but another doesn't care enough - maybe if Icepaw wasn't here she'd try and play but it's not like she knows Crowpaw and Slatepaw well they're her juniors after all closer to kits then proper Moorrunners - she's sure they'd be put off by her she's too old and likely has more skill then they do. It's what she tells herself anyway. Maybe she should try to get along with them try to show them the ropes but she doesn't want them to steal her 'tricks' - and desperately doesn't want to fail in front of them like she's had a awful habit of doing as of late. She still didn't know how to properly hunt in the snow.

❝What're you doin' outside the mud Wormpaw? Got bored of shovelin' dirt all day so now your... shovelin' snow now huh? That's dumb❞ she mraows her voice warbling halfway through as she struggles to think of what to end with. She doesn't meet Icepaw's eyes after saying it preferring to look down at her paws averting from everyone around.
​

( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — She turns her pale gaze toward Slatepaw when the question is sent his way, and her curiosity is piqued as it occurs to her that she's hardly had anything close to a real conversation with him. Now's a chance to glean more of his personality, beyond just... shy. Not that Icepaw has much personality herself; she often kicks herself for how awkward and antisocial she feels. But hey, at least she's chatting now, and even came close to inviting Crowpaw to hang out and mess around, so that's something! Maybe once this conversation dies down she can turn everyone's attention back to it, if she's still feeling brave enough. Then Slatepaw could get in on it, too. She's feeling ambitious today, it would seem.

This newfound courage is quick to crumble, her mood souring as another clanmate approaches — one who Icepaw definitely has no chance at befriending. Not that she'd ever want to; it seems like all Firepaw ever has to offer is scorn at worst and avoidance at best. Today's the former, unfortunately. Annoyance pulses through her as soon as dark-furred molly starts speaking, because of course it's nothing nice or constructive or anything worth listening to — it never is. She finds herself wondering what happened to put Firepaw in such a bad mood today; she's not usually this aggressively rude. At least it's kinda hard to take it seriously when her voice wavers and her insults sound like they were made up by a kit. Still, her energy is nonetheless ridiculously agitating — what does Icepaw ever do to deserve it? Nothing! She's an expert at ducking her head and minding her business, always has been; it's how she always deals with Firepaw, too. Some cats are just like that, she supposes. Not that it makes this any easier. It's hard not to wonder if there are more clanmates who dislike her and are just better at hiding it, even if she knows logically that it's probably not true.

For all the emotions running below the surface, boiling and making her heart pound, she appears relatively calm on the surface. For the most part, anyway. Her tail tip twitches restlessly, her fur bristles a bit and her eyes narrow slightly as she tries to figure out how to tackle this interaction. Usually she just does her best to ignore her peer's teasing, but she doesn't want to look like a pushover in front of everyone. Especially when she knows she can come up with a way better comeback than this childish stuff. "At least I've been pulling my weight," she counters briskly. Icepaw supposes she has no way of knowing if Firepaw isn't pulling her own, but it feels good to imply it — especially in front of Lynxtooth. "Sorry for wanting to take a break after I've been hard at work." Okay, maybe not the most masterful comeback, but saying anything for once is satisfying. She wants to say more, wants to call Firepaw out on how dumb she sounds, but that kind of confrontation is a bit much for her; just the thought sends a ripple of anxiety through her chest. Instead, she looks to Lynxtooth with an almost pleading expression. This is more delinquent than anything I'd ever get up to, she longs to say. How is Firepaw even brave enough to act like this in front of him? Hopefully he'll scold her — now that would be satisfying. Oh, but what if that just makes Firepaw more inclined to pick on her? StarClan, she can never win!
​

 

[LYNXTOOTH.]

he quirks an eyebrow, amber eyes fixed upon the apprentices now bickering — slatepaw close behind, keeping silent, meeting expectations for once. perhaps lynxtooth really did wear him out enough in today's training. he'll have to keep up the intensity if that's the case —

crowpaw is a bit of a brat and lynxtooth would scoff at the disrespect — honestly he's half a mind to claw the smirk off her face, as he would slatepaw — but he supposes he can give her grace for being out of sorts. without a mentor as she is. (does sootstar intend to fix that? lynxtooth would happily take the girl under his own guidance if it'd shape her into a proper apprentice.)

icepaw is much more tolerable; her mentor must be training her very well. lynxtooth gives her an appraising look; she admits to "messing around" but shows no contempt nor any ill-intent, and he even notes a little healthy fear. a proper acolyte.

"what other charms are there?"

before he can really formulate a response to icepaw there is yet another apprentice tumbling onto the scene. oh, wonderful. why is he suddenly babysitting? lynxtooth's eyes narrow at firepaw's blatant goading, and he'll reach out in an attempt to cuff the child around the head, amber gaze cool and unimpressed. "you are a windclan apprentice," he says coldly, "nearly warrior-aged. take care that you act like one."

they've had enough infighting, stars above, he won't tolerate children attempting to start more. he might need to speak to the leadership about this one as well.

. . . tags.​

 

[ixora]

---

slatepaw
6 moons - windclan apprentice - speech​

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮



listening to the apprentices chat and bicker about playing and workload made slatepaw's head ache. it seemed like not everyone had a strict mentor like lynxtooth - he was jealous of them, really, although he'd never let that feeling past his subconscious. while his eyes flicked between all the gathered apprentices, he momentarily met crowpaw's gaze. is she.. watching me? he felt his ears burn at the thought - embarrassment or fluster, he wasn't sure. icepaw was now watching him too, and suddenly he felt like burying his head in the dirt. were they waiting for him to make a mistake?

slatepaw wasn't quite sure how to respond to crowpaw's question, so he glanced away awkwardly, pretending to be distracted by something in the distance, all the while his claws scraped against the frozen ground beneath them. "just.. learning to train in new environments, with the snow and all.."[/b] was the only answer he could muster. he was keenly aware of lynxtooth glowering over him. the way he spoke to firepaw was no surprise to him, but the apprentice's biting words around the cold warrior was. wanting to avoid the conflict, he simply pretended firepaw wasnt there- looking straight through her or not in her direction at all. [/COLOR]


╰── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

༶•┈┈⛧┈★ just a castaway, an island lost at sea

---

 

[Firefang]

It's easy to throw her weight around with apprentices like Icepaw who tolerated her existence and encouraged it with silent contempt and acceptance that this was just the way she was, she rarely fights back her words well mannered and quick for the most part. She's quick to flee into the darkness of the tunnels where Firepaw could not follow, she doesn't hide today doesn't tilt her head down and show the back of her neck. She doesn't surrender easily she doesn't entertain Firepaw's belief of faux-superiority she herself never truly believed in to begin with. She plays the game Firepaw started and wins with little resistance, hasn't that always been the way it was between them Firepaw lets the pale molly occupy her thoughts but she wonders if Icepaw ever thought of her as anything more then a annoyance to scathe her memories not even worth a dishonorable mention. She must think she's better then her. Her words get that point across, who truly served their clan to their fullest extent? Who wore a rank of honor and bravery and who walked a path chosen for her (wouldn't it be all the same if she'd stayed down in the dank tunnels, following the whims of her mother?). Her head lifts her ragefull eyes finding Icepaw's easily, it's not courage that makes her claws unsheathe further there is no bravery within her heart as she stares her down wondering how quickly she could pin her and make her take back her words. Her unquestionable truth that only one of them had ever been carrying their weight. ❝Say that again❞ her voice gurgles in her throat, the words almost slipping she almost chokes on them like bile she takes another step forward ❝I dare you.❞ she probably takes her for some sorta joke if she hadn't been laughing at her this whole time behind that pretty mask of a face. Another step forward and before anything can escalate reality returns.

With a cuff on the head.... ❝HEY! OW!❞ she leaps up turning midair to face Lynxtooth fur still bristled, claws still itching for a fight but with one look at his stern expression they sheath and she looks away from his disapproving gaze ear flattening as he warns her. She doesn't apologize not directly, she wasn't wrong she wasn't she was just messing around it wasn't like the warriors themselves weren't harsh on each other... She was just... She can feel eyes rest on her pelt, far too many as if they are all looking at her (that couldn't be the case she knows but it does not matter) she huffs. forcing a smirk trying to stand taller but her legs quiver ❝I didn't mean it, was just tryna have a little fun❞ liar, she gulps and begins to inch away ❝Well... I'll go back to hunting! Seeya!❞ she briskly does her best to pass by Lynxtooth to go off back into the territory but before she does she can't help but shoot one last icy glare Icepaw's way before she's off and away sprinting into the distance.
​

( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )

 

[SMOKESTEP]

TAGS — Wherever Icepaw is, Smokepaw is usually not far behind them. The two make an efficient duo underground when they're left to their own devices by their mentors (which, granted, isn't all too often), and over the few moons they've really known each other, he finds that he appreciates her company more than most other WindClanners'. Something seems effortless about the way they work together, and lately he's found that same energy extending above-ground, too, when they hang out and simply enjoy some silence in tandem. She's a good friend, he supposes, though he's not even sure he'd say so out loud.

As for the other apprentices... well, Smokepaw is not exactly social. He's seen Crowpaw and Slatepaw around of course, and he knows their names just for the sake of referring to them, but he doesn't know if they've ever actually talked. As for Firepaw, it's no secret that they're littermates, what with the blazing amber eyes that they share. They don't really act like it, though- sometimes he feels closer to Icepaw than he does his own sister, and really, he's not particularly close with either. His ears twitch as she passes him, her leaving and him entering; Smokepaw only stops to watch her go, not intending to catch the icy glare she shoots his fellow Tunneler apprentice.

"Wow," he murmurs, turning back to the rest of the gathered cats. He'd ask what set her off, but Firepaw has always had a sort of hairpin trigger. He wouldn't be surprised if it was something as silly as the snow crunching wrong beneath her paws. Smokepaw's tail sweeps behind him, appraising the rest of the crowd, trying to listen to Slatepaw's quiet chittering. Training in the snow wasn't a foreign concept to him, of course, but the weather didn't affect the tunnels the same way it did the moors. The most he had to worry about was when the snow melted, or when rain fell, or things like that. He's glad for it; he's able to enjoy the snow without worrying much about how it affects hunting. In fact, it almost makes hunting easier for him, considering the way the prey likes to burrow at this time of year. He thinks that Leafbare would be his favorite season if not for the chill- his thin, dirt-covered pelt does little to shield him against the buffeting wind that howls across the moors.

Smokepaw seems to realize the way he's been standing so silently. In an attempt to mend this, he utters, "Um, hey. Snow's nice."

​

​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — pretend this isnt stupid late lol

---

Apparently her comeback is effective after all — a bit too effective. Newfound anger flashes in Firepaw's burning gaze and their heart sinks at the observation, its already thrumming beat speeding up when they catch sight of unsheathed claws. So she can dish it out but can't take it — that's what Icepaw would be thinking if their mind wasn't overwhelmed with anxiety as their fellow apprentice balefully stares them down. Right, this is why they never talk back. They back up as Firepaw moves closer, large ears flattening and tail lashing like a whip. There's real hostility in her voice; it's dripping with it. She's not going to...? There's no way she's that stupid. Right? Icepaw's losing faith with each passing moment, unable to find their voice to meet the challenge (though she would have quickly conceded, frankly)... but then Lynxtooth steps in.

The tension doesn't leave their body, but the warrior's stern interruption sends a wave of relief washing over them. Firepaw's shock as she's whacked is almost too satisfying; Icepaw looks on smugly, watching her scramble to defend herself and then hastily make her leave. Their new feeling of superiority wavers a bit, though, when Firepaw shoots them a glare on her way out, leaving them with a sense of unease as she bounds away. Great, now she's probably gonna be so much worse to deal with... but at least they know they can trust the warriors to keep her in her place, and they're not above tattling if she tries anything when there's no adult supervision. Hopefully it won't come to that.

They're almost too swept up in their thoughts to notice Smokepaw's approach, but once they do a tentative smile tugs at their lips. It's almost funny to think that he and Firepaw are littermates — they're nothing alike. Smokepaw's actually pleasant to be around, for starters. "Yeah," they reply to his remark. "I like feeling a lot more disguised than I would during any other season." Their pale fur usually sticks out like a sore thumb against the grass; they wonder how much more difficult it'd make hunting for them if they weren't a tunneler.

They want to keep talking about trivial matters, but their mind keeps drifting back to Firepaw — frustratingly. "I think your sister hates me." They try to keep their tone on the lighter side, but it's hard to keep the bitterness out of their voice.
​