- Aug 1, 2022
- 115
- 10
- 18
I'M SCARED TO GET CLOSE AND I HATE BEING ALONE
I LONG FOR THAT FEELING TO NOT FEEL AT ALL
THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM
It was late afternoon when Coldpaw made his way back into camp. In his jaws was a fat rabbit he'd managed to run down while out hunting on the moors, but it seemed the prey had managed to get a bit of revenge on the striped tomcat, who was covered in thistles that were sticking out of his dark gray fur. Brows furrowed, tail lashing, and yellow eyes fixed into an unhappy glare, Coldpaw was looking even more unfriendly than usual as he crossed the clearing dropped his catch on the pile.
Stupid rabbit. Of course it would run into the only picker bush on the entire fucking hillside. he fumed inwardly as he made his way over to an empty spot in camp, settling down to pick the thistles from his coat. There were a few that had left little scratches along his body, but none of them were deep enough to really draw blood. They were just... itchy, and annoying. He probably could have veered off and let the rabbit go- Starclan knew the moors were teeming with them- but he'd wanted to get done as quickly as possible so as not to be late for training.
As most cats in the camp were probably aware of by now, Coldpaw didn't train with the other apprentices during the days. No, he woke up late most days and then went out with the warriors on patrols and hunts. It was only when night fell and most of the clan were asleep in their nests that Hyacinth took him out to train and bestow upon him the lessons she deemed necessary for his future as warrior- hence why he tended to sleep later than the other apprentices. He didn't mind it though. If he was honest, he thought he even preferred it that way.
Now he just had to fix his fur before Hyacinth called on him for training. Great.
windclan apprentice - male - 9 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes