THAT WAS WHEN THERE WAS A SHOW - SHARPSHADOW

[Gigglepaw]

There were times, in the midst of grief, where Gigglepaw wondered if she should have been prepared for what was happening. After all, she'd lost Chilledstar, and Smogstar and Forestshade had gone, so she couldn't say that she was a stranger to loss - but losing Needledrift was unlike the previous times. It was cruel and cut deep in a way that Gigglepaw didn't expect and in a way that she hated. She hated feeling so useless. She'd been in the same battle as her mother, had seen Needledrift dive into the fray to protect Ferndance, and she'd watched as the ThunderClan deputy had decided to take Needledrift away from her, Ferndance, and the rest of their family. That was another thing - she hated feeling hate. It wasn't something she'd thought she'd ever experience, because what did a cat need to do to inspire such an ugly emotion? But now she knew, and she wanted to be able to avenge her mother.

Shalestorm was Gigglepaw's mentor, and she'd been assigned with the hope in mind that she would be able to protect and inspire Gigglepaw's already potent positivity. She respected Shalestorm of course, but she wasn't Forestshade, and that was no fault of hers; it was just the way that things had fallen into place. Mirestar knew best, after all. But Gigglepaw didn't feel as though she could go to Shalestorm with these concerns about herself. Forestshade would have understood, would have taken it upon herself to explain things and get to the bottom of the issue, but Gigglepaw doubted there was anyone in the Clan now that could do as well, and she didn't have the time to waste waiting for Forestshade to return and visit. Another lead warrior's nervous face echoed in the back of her mind, and Gigglepaw knew who she needed to seek out.

"Sharpshadow?" She approached the tom after he'd returned from a patrol, with the hope that he wouldn't be too exhausted to entertain her for a moment. "I was wonderin'... if I could talk to you. About... something." Gigglepaw was vague, pawing at the frosty ground as she averted her gaze from Sharpshadow's. Surely the older warrior would understand - she was quirky, yes, but there was also something reliable about her that gave Gigglepaw hope. Maybe she wouldn't train her like an apprentice, but he could still offer some words of wisdom, like Forestshade had.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ! @SHARPSHADOW

• 

• GIGGLEPAW ✩ apprentice of shadowclan, eight moons
  → blinks incessantly & uncontrollably.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

The worst part about a miserable place like ShadowClan was not the people like him. Miserable things— predisposed to it maybe... Or maybe not, but made miserable before they'd even had the chance to possibly be anything else. At least Sharpshadow would never glimpse herself in the reflection of a puddle... or maybe catch the smaller spines of her younger self in the black-tar of the Thunderpath and think: what happened? She's always been like this, hasn't she? She's not sure it's something that could ever change. She hasn't thought about it long enough to consider it.

It didn't matter, though. Not really. Something like her— She'd been Smogstar's set of claws. Now she was Mirestar's, she guesses. She hadn't realized it at the time, but she had been Chilledstar's once, too. What did that make her? A warrior would be her answer, though the more realistic one was probably a pawn. The worst part of it all was this: those that somehow had managed to prosper so far having their heart battered like this.

He thinks Gigglepaw's just made this way— destined to be something with the power of nothing but a name... A weary face finds her. He finds her more easily than he would certain others. Stress' frown finds its way into concern's grip, instead. Green eyes like her mother. Green eyes like her mentor. The both of them were gone now... one of them more than the other. Without Needledrift's incomprehensible kindness; without Forestshade's nonsensical uncaringness, who would Gigglepaw be, she wonders. " Yeah? " a murmur of her word. She could never will the feathers of her coat away, but she's... Not softened. Numbed, maybe.

She wants to talk to him? A blink passes by. Another; then three. " I- sure. Yeah. " He could not mentor her. Mirestar had told him to his face, but he holds onto some nonsense desire with crooked teeth, with eyes that go round at the sight of her. Is it pity? If she were her- would she hate to be pitied? " Anything, " he breathes. He's not sure what makes him say it.​