SIXTEEN STRIKES | snowlark

[BLOODWING]

Bloodwing. It still felt so fresh being addressed with a warrior's name that her fur practically oscillated with excitement whenever she felt it called. Each step once taken with impatience for a delayed naming ceremony now felt more purposeful, more refined (still impatient, but only because there were so many new places she could go to now with her freedom). Her journeys seldom took her far away from the camp, however. Even if her personal boogeyman was dead, dozens still lurked within the mire and the last thing she wanted to do was get caught out before she knew she could beat them up.

Luckily, the only place she needed to go to that day was the warrior's den. Poking her head inside, the cinnamon tabby's gaze quickly settled upon a familiar white figure in one of the nests. With a renewed confidence, Bloodwing decided it was pointless wasting any time. "Sooooo... Snowlark," she mewed with a fanged smirk, plopping down in an empty space by the other. They'd never been particularly close, even when sharing the same den. The other had always seemed snooty, too proud to associate with four-month old apprentices when she was old enough to leave camp. It wasn't something she felt anger over - all of the apprentices had been that way... bitter about their presence, almost. Blood had never figured out why, but at this point, she didn't care. They were adults, some of the perpetrators were dead.

It was clear life was too fucking short to fret about someone's opinions.

And yet, fretting about someone's opinions was why Bloodwing was within the nest. "You and my brother. Is anything going on between you?" She rolled her shoulders in some attempt to suggest she didn't particularly care about the pairing so long as Snowlark treated him right.


@Snowlark.


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[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] With more warriors joining the warrior's den, things began to feel... a little bit more crowded. Not like it was when he lived within the walls of the apprentice den. After all, several of the close-aged cats he once shared a den with. Now most of them were warriors. One in particular he felt still should have been delayed due to his thoughts that the other was not ready with their still clung-on childish-antics. Yet Snowlark pushed that aside for now and attempted to focus on what was ahead of him. Stretching out in his nest he saw a tinge of cinnamon from the corner of his eyes before one of the newly named warriors came to view, one who should have been named a moon prior if Smogstar's illness had not kept him trapped within the walls of the leader's den.

Bloodwing was quick to begin speaking to the older warrior while he hummed in acknowledgment to what the she-cat was to say. After all, Needledrift and Ferndance's brood had never been an irritation in Snowlark's ears like that of Duckshimmer's (aside from Sneezeduck), yet as he's grown older he has come around to getting closer to Singeglare, even if it was little by little compared to the other.

Yet, what Bloodwing had to ask made the tom blink in surprise, yellow gaze fluttering over towards Bloodwing while he still processed what she had asked. "We're friends..." he quips calmly. He didn't think much of romance, like Flintwish or Ashenfall-even the older warriors who were quick to cozy up to someone else as the moons get colder. "Has anyone come to mind for you, Bloodwing? You and Singeglare are pretty close" it was a quick way to focus attention onto the molly, dodging the other's curiosity completely.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── Where I am going is right where I am ──┐‎

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  "speak""Thoughts"
  
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  Snowlark ❄ He/Him, warrior of Shadowclan, 14 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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