private SO JUST TAKE SOME TIME || crappiepaw

[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

So far, Iciclepaw does not know what it's like to not be good at something. Mudpelt had taken his kits to shallow waters as soon as they could walk, and Iciclepaw had taken to them as though her pelt were made of scales. She is quick, observant, and naturally quiet. Her land prey skills are slightly better so far than her fishing skills, but even Smokethroat hasn't been able to begrudge her a compliment here and there after snagging a fat water vole.

She doesn't necessarily think Crappiepaw is bad at anything. Not the way her brother Fernpaw is. But the sickly feline is so hard on himself whenever something doesn't go his way, and she finds that strange. Fernpaw isn't like that. The tortoiseshell remembers the day they'd stumbled upon Crappiepaw narrowly missing a bird, how even the awkward attempts at assuaging his hurt feelings by the adults had been met with soft anger.

She wonders if he knows he's doing it.

"Hey," she mews, voice cool and expression neutral -- her natural state of being. "I'm going fishing. I need someone to go with me, though. Can you?"

Could she ask one of her many siblings, including her older sister? Sure. Under other circumstances, she probably would. But something about that day is still caught in her mind, like a burr in her coat. She finds herself gazing at him with glimmering pale eyes for a moment before padding away, towards the water's edge. She is confident he will follow. After all, why wouldn't they?

- ,,​

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@CRAPPIEPAW

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

The ease with which the other apprentices seem to take to new skills is something that Crappiepaw frequently finds themself growing envious of. To attempt a new skill and immediately become good—or at the very least, decent—at it feels far outside of the realm of possibility for the sickly tom, who often finds himself at the mercy of his own minuscule amount of energy. They feel almost sick with it at times, the jealousy of watching others quickly succeed at tasks that Crappiepaw themself has had to push and push and push themself to achieve. It’s untrue, really; every apprentice does just as much work and puts in just as much effort as he does. He refuses to let the jealousy fester, turn him into the same kind of warrior that his mentor appears to be.

Their lack of skill in physical activities, combined with their frequent confinement to the medicine den, means that Crappiepaw doesn’t have many friends in RiverClan. They think Koipaw likes them, and Kelpie is their friend, but they find themself lonely more often than not. But today, Iciclepaw invites them to go fishing with her, and the apprentice quickly brightens up. "Hi, Iciclepaw," they greet, pulling themself to their feet.

Bright emerald eyes regard the she-cat with obvious excitement, a grin breaking out across their muzzle. "Are you sure you want me to help? I’m not very good at catching fish." They hurry after Iciclepaw, wanting to ensure she doesn’t leave without them. White toes scrape the ground with each step they take, padding quickly to catch up.
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Crappiepaw's obvious excitement at being asked to leave camp is infectious; Iciclepaw's stoicism falters, the corners of her mouth twitching at the other feline. He follows his greeting up, the scrabbling of anticipating paws, with a self-deprecating comment, however.

The tortoiseshell femme looks at her mottled companion with gleaming silvery eyes, shaking her head. "Are you sure you want me to help? I'm not very good at catching fish." "Truthfully, I don't need help," she replies. The ginger tip of her tail wriggles like a captive worm. "I just wanted company. Besides, I'm not supposed to leave camp alone still. And sometimes I want to listen to someone more intelligent than... well." She flicks an ear. She loves her littermates, but to say any of them matched her in wits would be a blatant and hilarious lie, in her eyes.

Iciclepaw does not wait for her companion to catch up. She walks with her chin held high, confidence in the lift of her tail and her tall, proud gait. She's growing lean and limber, losing the kitten fuzz in her coat and becoming a sleek RiverClan apprentice, and her waltz through the riverlands shows others she knows it and wishes to flaunt it.

At the water's edge, Iciclepaw peers at her reflection. It's the same face she's always known -- a small copy of Icesparkle's face, with paler, smaller eyes, more rigid features, less warmth. She blinks, satisfied, as she always has been, with the image in the water. "Has your mentor taught you much fishing yet, Crappiepaw?" For all their time in the sick den, Iciclepaw thinks fishing should be something they could do -- coughing will disturb the river less than it would the grass or stone, after all.

- ,,​

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[CRAPPIEPATCH]

For a moment, Crappiepaw swears the other calico’s mouth quirks up in a smile. Which is surprising, because they don’t often see Iciclepaw look anything other than serious. And they can’t help but to preen a bit when she admits that she doesn’t need help—she’s chosen them just for their company. They’re not used to being wanted around just for their company. And if she doesn’t truly want them for their help, then it doesn’t matter how bad they are at fishing!

The other apprentice also mentions that she wants intelligent company, and Crappiepaw stifles their ensuing giggle with a pristine white paw—soon to be muddied and wet, if all goes well. They don’t say anything in agreement, unsure if they’re allowed to say mean things about Iciclepaw’s littermates or other fellow apprentices. "I’m glad you asked me to come with you," they say instead.

They watch the back of Iciclepaw’s head as she continues to walk, confident and graceful in a way that Crappiepaw knows they could never be. Their gait is uneven, shambling almost, and certainly holds no confidence. Head low, they follow behind her like an enthusiastic rodent. "My mentor is useless," he responds to her question with a fierce shake of his head once he reaches her side at the water’s edge. He thinks back to all the times his mentor has left him alone to practice fishing by himself, the quiet days of sitting beside the river, wondering if anyone would notice if he fell in. "So no."
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

The other tortoiseshell blinks at her, clearly grateful for a chance to leave camp and enjoy someone else's company for a change. She knows Crappiepaw must be sick to death -- no pun intended -- of being stuck in Beesong's den. They tell her their mentor is useless, and Iciclepaw suppresses another small smile. "I wonder if useless is better than what I have to deal with," she says, though she says it with fondness.

Peering into the water, Iciclepaw sees a flash of silver beneath the water. Her body stills, breathing slowing to a crawl and then a trickle. A white paw flashes toward the river and she feels her claws connect with something cold and firm. It's small, but she flips it onto the riverbank effortlessly, and with a bop to its head, it lays still. She gives a mrrr of satisfaction. "So, if your mentor is useless, why not ask Cicadastar for a new mentor? There are better warriors, I'm sure." She looks up at Crappiepaw and tilts her head.

- ,,​

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