pafp sour lemonade // chatting

[skyclaw]

[ pls wait for @HOWLINGSTAR ! mentions @Sproutpaw @darkpaw @FALLOWPAW but no need to wait for them! ]

While Skyclaw wasn't too keen on testing the elder apprentice's about their (albeit short) history, he had grown pleasantly surprised with their demeanor's and opinions. Some wavered and questioned him (as if he stood as a true authority figure,) whilst others leaned into the discussion. They had returned to camp, relatively unscathed and eager to move on with their days, when the mottled tom noticed his grandmother. He supposes, like with any other patrol, it'd be best to share with her the results. And, so he does.

"Darkpaw is keen on the borders - seems he can tell north from south, even, with only his nose," Skyclaw praises the soon-to-be warrior, an ear twitching. "Sproutpaw is mouthy," a glance towards the split faced tom, "but that hadn't stopped anyone yet..." himself included. The warrior allows his fiery gaze to fall over each of the apprentices, lingering on Fallowpaw as the former rogue lingers, clearly itching to get away. A thought pops into his head, and his eyes fall back to Howlingstar.

"Hey," he says, an ear twitching, "Roaringpaw is still in the medicine den, isn't he?" The inquiry sounds sincere at first, however the tom's expression does not err into anything softer. If anything, he grows firmer, his jaw tenses. "I would've taken him along, too, if he hadn't broken that code and gotten himself sick over it," a pause, a blink, a test of limits between himself and his grandmother. "We're wasting time and herbs on him, Howlingstar. He should be sent back to his twolegs. You know that."

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[HOWLINGSTAR]

The day has been easy so far. Hunting patrols are returning with fortunate hauls, the sun is covered by a nice layer of clouds that cools off the day, kits are playing…

The tabby lounges near the fresh-kill pile, a gentle smile on her maw as she looks around herself at the buzzing camp, before her attention shifts to her approaching grandson. An ear flicks forward and she offers him a smiling nod in greeting. He comments on Darkpaw’s keen nose, which she acknowledges with an impressed blink towards the youth. Sproutpaw is mouthy, he says, and she narrows her eyes good-naturedly at him. “So were you,” She points out, referring to the days he’d been her apprentice.

The topic shifts as Skyclaw then asks about Roaringpaw, and Howlingstar gives a gentle nod of confirmation. “He is. He’s healing up okay, I think.” Last she heard from Gentlestorm, at least. She hopes Copperfang isn’t missing his apprentice too much while he gets better. The shift in her grandchild’s face is slight, but to a trained grandmother’s eye it is obvious. She turns her head to stare at him straight-on, almost a silent warning before he goes too far. And he does go too far.

“Roaringpaw is a member of ThunderClan now, Skyclaw,” She states sternly, green eyes boring into the patched warrior’s gaze. “Herbs are never wasted on clanmates. How could you say such a thing?” A part of her is angry, the other is just plain shocked. She’d always known Skyclaw to have a fiery temper, but to be so cruel? ​

 

[HOPEPAW]

⊱⊰ Eavesdropping is rude. Hopekit knows that. But gossiping is also rude, right? Yet… he’s watched plenty of adults gossiping over their evening meals, and while they’re sharing tongues. So maybe things like that are only bad when kits do it. He doesn’t really understand, but whatever unspoken rules float about the clan, the lilac tomkit doesn’t care about them. He hovers about as Skyclaw and Howlingstar speak, copper-hued gaze focused plainly on the duo. It doesn’t look like they’ve noticed him yet, even though his stealthy crouch is clumsy, and the boy takes the chance to listen to each and every word that passes between the grandmother and her grandson.

Skyclaw asks about Roaringpaw, the weird kittypet tom—the word kittypet makes him shift with discomfort, but he can’t quite place why—and the leader responds that he’s healing well. But then… We’re wasting time and herbs on him, the warrior says. Well, Hopekit won’t stand for that. The medicine cat wants everyone to be healed, no matter what they’ve done. Even kittypets like Roaringpaw—who Howlingstar reminds Skyclaw is a member of ThunderClan now. "Wasting herbs? Gentlestorm would never do that," he quips in response, stepping up to sit beside the two. "Yeah… how could you say that?"

【❖】 the hunt is my muse

• ooc: —
• 
  HOPEKIT ❯❯ he/him, thunderclan kit
  ⊱ skinny, thick-furred lilac tom with deep copper eyes. soft-spoken and sleepy, but can be a bit of a grouch.
  ⊱ son of batwing and leopardtongue ; brother to bravepaw, hazepaw, cardinalpaw, coalkit
  ⊱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⊱ penned by foxlore

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[PRIDEPAW]

The majority of the time, Pridepaw tried to keep her nose out of drama. The young apprentice didn't see many positives in getting herself involved - at least, when the drama was inter-clan, that is. When it was drama with other clans and her home, she was more than happy to stick her nose where it didn't belong. Especially when that nose was followed by a scowling muzzle, grey eyes hard and intimidating even when she wasn't feeling particularly threatening on the inside. Skyclaw's words, though... they were not concerning another clan, no matter how the warrior tried to other Roaringpaw from the rest of them.

Yet his words still somehow managed to rustle her, like a stone had been abruptly dropped into her stomach and been left to settle. It seemed even the kits of the clan were none too happy about the tom's words, at least if Hopekit's unhappy quip was anything to go by.

For a moment, Pridepaw just observed. She looked between Skyclaw and Howlingstar, bushy tail curled around her paws as their leader sternly scolded him for the suggestion. It was only after the dust had settled that she spoke up, muzzle pulled into a tight frown even as her words came out more neutral than the others. "Thunderclan has already invested time and effort into Roaringpaw. I think it would be more of a waste of herbs to exile him back to where he came from." In the back of her mind, she also couldn't help but note that Roaringpaw also just seemed to be a good cat. One she didn't mind being clanmates with. However, she got the feeling that such an appeal wouldn't get through to Skyclaw if he was suggesting such a solution already.

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀 ✹ . + ˚ 　 · 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

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• 

  an apprentice of thunderclan, pridepaw is a relatively new student in the clan, coming from a large clanborn family. she currently has an npc mentor, and has recently turned nine moons. is constantly wearing a scowling expression and rarely smiles, regardless of her true feelings.　✦

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[WRATHPAW.]

*+:｡.｡ When it came to drama, Wrathpaw was always on the sidelines. He accepted his ignorance would lend him no strength to step forward with opinions still unclear and confused, so he rarely bothered past a call or two to defend his clanmates. But slowly, Wrathpaw found the hesitation to keep his tongue restraining him less and less. He wasn't a kit anymore. Briarsong thought he was smart. Maybe it's time he did more than just listen to the right voices.
Large ears - he was growing into them more as the moons stretched by - perked as Howlingstar's voice rang over the clearing. Perhaps it was instinctive now, to look over at his leader when her tone was raised even by a margin, although he couldn't deny eavesdropping had since stopped being a line he couldn't cross. When he sees his sister walking forth, Wrathpaw feels the push of confidence he needs and decides to join her. Pale paws hang heavy as he walks, reluctance weighing him down. He wishes he could go back to his nursery days when life was so much less complicated.
But he needs to raise his chin high and accept the truth.

He opens his mouth, before closing it. Wary deep blue eyes study Howlingstar from his spot years behind her in age and experience, so utterly small he has to practically crane his neck to barely see her nose, let alone properly meet her gaze. She was a difficult cat to defy, and as certain as he is that what he has to say is for the good of the clan, defiance is still defiance. It makes his skin crawl. It makes his heart hurt. But closing his eyes, he thinks of Briarsong's soft voice, praising him, sighing over their clanmate's denial of the truth.
Could someone as wise as Howlingstar also commit the crime of ignorance?

Wrathpaw's brow furrows. He pulls up his memories of Roaringpaw, shouting at him from the medicine den, claiming kitty-pets hunt better than clan cats while he rested his paws all day. Roaringpaw was no saint. Roaringpaw was an ever-kit, just like Ploverhop and Stormywing!

Lashing his tail, Wrathpaw opens his mouth-

"I heard two-legs take care of their kitty-pets...maybe it would be better to send him back to his real home. He'd get better care, probably" his voice rings hollow in his ear, but notably stronger than he feels. Although his breath hitches for a moment in his chest, he adds, "It may not be wasting herbs but if we don't need to use them on someone who doesn't deserve it-" he half-heartedly pauses, then amends, "who doesn't need it...then why should we? Flamewhisker and Falconheart need care, too"

He feels out of breath, but he does his best to keep his head from tucking into his shoulders. Still, he can't quite meet Howlingstar - or his sister, or Hopekit - in the eye, and instead looks towards Skyclaw. Skyclaw, who had fought valiantly in Raccoonstripe's patrol, had taken blows in the name of feeding his clanmates. Wrathpaw hadn't seen Roaringpaw or Ploverhop do anything half as brave.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/13/24

• 
  
  
• 
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ♡ Wrathkit
  ♡ DMAB— He/Him
  ♡ 9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ♡ Brother to Lovelight, Joywing, Laughblossom || Pridepaw, Merrypaw
  ♡ Thunderclan — Kit
  ♡ Mentored by Wildheart
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ♡Physically mediocre | mentally easy
  ♡ Attack in bold #4a59ff
  injuries: None currently

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[Dwindlingpaw]

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ Dwindlingkit is drawn to drama like a moth to flame. Dwindlingkit despises a number of things, one of which is badmouthing a clanmate. And to drive away Roaringpaw? Why? He's injured, and Gentlestorm hasn't told him he can leave yet

Howlingstar evidently agreed with her own opinion, and the red and cream kit assumed that was the end of anyone who disagreed. She sat near by, softly nodding alongside Hopekit and Pridepaw. It was heartbreaking to think that anyone would desire to see one of their clanmate sent away. What if she ended up in the medicine den? Would others want to send her away too?

'Kitty-pets' Her ear quivered, and she clenched her teeth, staring at Wrathpaw with disappointment rather than rage."Wrathpaw, I had no idea you preferred two legs. Go live with them if you really like them so much" And Skyclaw can join you. She aspires never to judge someone based just on where they came from. She already hates where she came from, and just because they are a full-blooded Thunderclan doesn't mean she hates her whole clan.

"No cat should have to stay with them; they are weird; I wouldn't trust them at all." She hasn't encountered a Twoleg before and doesn't want to, but she's known Gentlestorm for as long as she can remember, so why should she worry if he wanted more herbs? He could just find more. "You should have more faith in Gentlestorm, he is a wonderful medicine cat and is trying his best to look after everyone in his den."​

 

[bayingkit]

bayingkit still doesn’t know what to think of kittypets and normal cats and everkits. it makes her shift on bone - tinged paws, hearing her kin drone the apprentice’s name in a voice syrupy and slow. concern, though it didn’t sound just right.. skyclaw loudly, pointedly keeps their presence noticed far more than any kittypet she’d ever seen ; roaringpaw hadn’t even crossed her mind as a possibility, not really. the pathway between camp and the medicine den seemed untouchable, unmemorable, because she didn’t want to get hot stink all over her coat.. any face to disappear beyond that stone canopy was good as gone, in her kit - young brain. bayingkit blinks, silent and bristled as ever where she crouches in the shadow of her grandmother, batting at the curl of her tail while she lounged with the circle of chatting warriors idly as they spoke.

it is hopekit that brings her attention forward, razors her gaze sharper with a wrinkle of a scorning nose. she rolls her eyes, slaps her tail against the ground — gentlestorm would never do that, ” suck-up. “ she sneers, flits her ears down and wiggles her head mockingly as she does. all the medicine cat did was smell and play with flowers — any cat could do that, but the tom’s shadow may as well have been dusty pale for how much hopekit seemed to stick up his tail. she assumed that was what being parentless did to a kit, because dwindlingkit steps forward next to flail her tongue at the conversing warriors, and she didn’t see anyone teaching her right from wrong like bayingkit’s parents did, ” botha you.. buncha suck-up babies. “ a long, quiet hiss, because her grandmother was right there — their elders were talking. kits were to be silent.

and who cared about dumb dwindlingkit, anyway? what did she do to deserve those eyes on her? what did she do except something that would land her stupid tail in trouble for talking back to a warrior? she hopes they smack her.. she hopes they punish her for stepping out of line, and the pause of sheer want thumps her serpent tail against the soil again. if they cared so much, maybe they were kittypets, themself, trying to win the medics favor.. from what she’d gathered, they were schemey like that.

☽ ˚ ｡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒  𓃥 【 𝑰𝑻𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 】

• i.
  
  
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• ” speech “
• BAYINGKIT——————— SHE / HER, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. NIGHTBIRD xx RACCOONSTRIPE, SISTER TO TWILIGHTKIT, TIGERKIT, STORMKIT & LIGHTNINGKIT. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE DISRUPTED SOIL & WET FUR. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  a large, unsightly black tabby kitten.
  
  mongrelish, standing all thistlethorn fur and bared teeth, bayingkit would be thought roguish if not for the dogtooth crown she uncomfortably bears. a hereditary haunting lies in the shag of ornate black striping and long limbs that do not yet suit her wide, slouching shoulders ; her fathers daughter, laced in dredge and filth moreso than he’d ever been. a constant, incessant need to make herself small forms in hunched spine and weary, whale - eyed suspicion, communicating mostly in rumbling growls.. bayingkit tends to hold herself with a tuck tailed and trembling livewire of feral volatility.
  

  teething, easily frustrated with her lack of vocal skill and highly reactive. prone to biting, swatting and general moodiness it is highly encouraged to correct. powerplay is allowed for disciplinary swipes, scruffing and general redirection.

  
  
  

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