- Feb 20, 2023
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❪ TAGS ❫ — // tw for brief mention of abuse + taking place after this thread
Stalking with his dark head hung low and green hues glued to the floor, he makes his way from the camp's center toward the warrior's den where he would find Shadowsight making conversation with another cat. Once he sees his son, the sleek black-furred male excuses himself and casts his gaze upon the approaching apprentice expectantly.
Trying to keep his gaze steady, he flits his focus up toward the sharp-featured tom. "Father," He hesitates, his breath catching in his throat, though he knows he has no other option. If Snakepaw doesn't confront Shadowsight about this now, then he'll certainly find out later and then he'll be in even bigger trouble. "Wolfsong has just sentenced me to elder duty for the next seven days. He can't do that, can he...? He isn't my mentor, Badgermoon is." Snakepaw hopes, perhaps childishly, that the last tidbit is enough to distract from the fact that he had gotten in trouble in the first place.
A voice laced with more potent venom than Snakepaw's own, grunts immediately, "What?! For what reason?"
Snakepaw blinked, fear glinting in his emerald hues, though he wouldn't dare let his voice break in front of the stoic warrior. "I... said some things about another apprentice. Sunflowerpaw." Shadowsight had expected so much from him, and had always told him how he was brimming with potential. Maybe he could talk Wolfsong out of it, maybe he wouldn't have to—
A black limb strikes against Snakepaw's head, likely meant to be a cuff over the ears but executed in a much harsher, impulsive manner. "Whatever were you thinking?! Do you think that searching the elders for ticks will earn you Sootstar's favor? Hm?"
Upon seeing his son shrinking back with his ears pinned against his cranium, green gaze averted, Shadowsight's anger begins to simmer down. He has lost his composure, something he has always prided himself on. "... I apologize." Half-hearted, or at least not genuine-sounding. Discomfort around apologizing and making up for wrongs was clearly a trait that the two shared. "Like it or not, that rogue is amongst Sootstar's most trusted." The statement lingers in the air for a moment, the older male huffing an exasperated sigh, as if it ires him deeply.
It's difficult for Snakepaw to gather the courage to meet his parent's critical gaze. Snakepaw the hot-headed bully, the arrogant apprentice, the little sniveling bastard — it seemed as if his one true fear was disappointing his own kin. "I'll have a talk with him myself. But I hope you know that it's his word against mine; he's a lead warrior, after all." Shadowsight explains, resuming a tone that was much more leveled and calm. His yellowy eyes narrow. "You're not a kit anymore, Snakepaw. The older you grow, the less I'm able to make excuses for you. You must learn when to use your tongue and when to hold it."
Shadowsight brushes past his child without another word, presumably setting off to find the aforementioned lead warrior. Snakepaw doesn't move from where he's stood, a dissatisfied frown tugging on his maw, his shoulders sagging. "... Yes, father."
Stalking with his dark head hung low and green hues glued to the floor, he makes his way from the camp's center toward the warrior's den where he would find Shadowsight making conversation with another cat. Once he sees his son, the sleek black-furred male excuses himself and casts his gaze upon the approaching apprentice expectantly.
Trying to keep his gaze steady, he flits his focus up toward the sharp-featured tom. "Father," He hesitates, his breath catching in his throat, though he knows he has no other option. If Snakepaw doesn't confront Shadowsight about this now, then he'll certainly find out later and then he'll be in even bigger trouble. "Wolfsong has just sentenced me to elder duty for the next seven days. He can't do that, can he...? He isn't my mentor, Badgermoon is." Snakepaw hopes, perhaps childishly, that the last tidbit is enough to distract from the fact that he had gotten in trouble in the first place.
A voice laced with more potent venom than Snakepaw's own, grunts immediately, "What?! For what reason?"
Snakepaw blinked, fear glinting in his emerald hues, though he wouldn't dare let his voice break in front of the stoic warrior. "I... said some things about another apprentice. Sunflowerpaw." Shadowsight had expected so much from him, and had always told him how he was brimming with potential. Maybe he could talk Wolfsong out of it, maybe he wouldn't have to—
A black limb strikes against Snakepaw's head, likely meant to be a cuff over the ears but executed in a much harsher, impulsive manner. "Whatever were you thinking?! Do you think that searching the elders for ticks will earn you Sootstar's favor? Hm?"
Upon seeing his son shrinking back with his ears pinned against his cranium, green gaze averted, Shadowsight's anger begins to simmer down. He has lost his composure, something he has always prided himself on. "... I apologize." Half-hearted, or at least not genuine-sounding. Discomfort around apologizing and making up for wrongs was clearly a trait that the two shared. "Like it or not, that rogue is amongst Sootstar's most trusted." The statement lingers in the air for a moment, the older male huffing an exasperated sigh, as if it ires him deeply.
It's difficult for Snakepaw to gather the courage to meet his parent's critical gaze. Snakepaw the hot-headed bully, the arrogant apprentice, the little sniveling bastard — it seemed as if his one true fear was disappointing his own kin. "I'll have a talk with him myself. But I hope you know that it's his word against mine; he's a lead warrior, after all." Shadowsight explains, resuming a tone that was much more leveled and calm. His yellowy eyes narrow. "You're not a kit anymore, Snakepaw. The older you grow, the less I'm able to make excuses for you. You must learn when to use your tongue and when to hold it."
Shadowsight brushes past his child without another word, presumably setting off to find the aforementioned lead warrior. Snakepaw doesn't move from where he's stood, a dissatisfied frown tugging on his maw, his shoulders sagging. "... Yes, father."
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