private THE GLOWING NARROWS [♱] FORESTSHADE

[SHARPSHADOW]

If she does't think about it, she doesn't hate Forestshade. If she doesn't think about how Sharppaw felt about her. Because Sharppaw and Sharpshadow were very different, by now. ( Or— that's what she tells herself, at least. ) How embarrassing would it be, if they weren't? Sharpshadow is not threatened by skills superior to his own. Because said skills still helped the clan. A rabbit in another's jaws instead of his own would still feed the same cats. Paws nimbler than another's would still weave the same dens for them all. So really, what reason is there to be bitter over things like that?

The thing was, Forestshade didn't even care. She didn't want to be the best, she just was. The stars must've felt it owed her another favor, for her lack of sight. It'd be one time that it seems to care about the cats within this marsh.

What was the point?

Well, he was relieved that he did not have to respect her. ( Not yet, but it's only a matter of time before she's amongst the lunatics, and freaks, and ThunderClan lovers. Because who cared for your character, when you were skilled? Who cared for your character, when you could talk circles around everyone else? Apparently, apparently, that is what ShadowClan values... )

Until then, at least, she could... say what she wanted. " Hey, uh, " Awkward. Sharpshadow fights the urge to turn into a puddle. But his question is genuine. His... questions, plural. What had she said? Something - something, stop acting like you hate this place! " So... like, you don't hate this marsh? " A twinge. Something she probably wouldn't say to someone like Smogmaw. But well, Forestshade was not Smogmaw. " I guess you don't get the full extent of how ugly it is. "

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• ooc: BOO! @FORESTSHADE
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

An ear twitches, and the familiar voice of a certain clanmate is quickly recognized. “Hey,” She answers back casually, turning her head slightly towards Sharpshadow. Forestshade didn’t grow up with many friends in ShadowClan. Hard to make friends when everyone hates each other; hard to make friends when her strong personality is difficult for many to stomach. But those who do stick around gain her attention - whether Sharpshadow has noticed it or not, she has stuck around long enough for the torbie to at least grow fond of his company. She’d even venture as far as to maybe call the cat a friend.

“Why would I?” Her voice is mildly incredulous, and she presses her paws firmly into the mud to prove her point. “The ground feels nice on my paws. The sounds here are nice, and frog and toad aren’t that bad.” The air here in greenleaf is filled with frog calls and the buzzing of mosquitos and the trickling of water after a nice rain. Even in the cold season, the wind through reeds and pine trees is comforting, beautiful even! “Well you’re right about one thing. I can’t see what you all see, including your ugly mug,” She jabs, a toothy grin spreading across her maw.​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

It's... simple. Simple in a way that Sharpshadow could almost be jealous of. An outlook comprised of nothing more than I like the mud, and I like the sound of this, and the taste is just fine. It is not as if Sharpshadow disliked the feeling of the mud, or the chirping of the swamp, or the taste of frog on her tongue. He couldn't afford to dislike those things, when it's all that he's known, and all that he would ever know.

But when he stands amongst fourtrees, the ground solidified by sturdy roots worming their way underneath. Or even the stone that made up the tunnels between them and ThunderClan, Sharpshadow can't help but imagine a world that was not humid, where her fur could reliably stay dry, where she could pounce, and never worry about the ground shifting underfoot. When Pitchstar had launched his claim on ThunderClan's prey, Sharpshadow had seen prey that was far from anything warty and green. More than a morsel was not a rarity like a fat toad or bird could be. Did ThunderClan ever have to pick lizards off their claws? Did they ever have to search for any scrap of meat with their teeth, minding whisker - thin bone?

" Yeah? Even when they're days - old? " he asks, a grimace - like smile stretching across his maw. Of course Forestshade felt content, because she could go la - dee - da all day and catch a fat rabbit whenever she wanted to. Sharpshadow prickles. The lack of lashing tail probably saves him from any prying questions.

I can’t see what you all see, including your ugly mug. Jaws parted, " Aha, " Who would be bothered over a comment like that? Who? Certainly not him. It's not like she knew he was ugly. " Is that why you look like you took a roll in Carrionplace a season ago and never fixed yourself? " A joke, he thinks with his too - tight smile. One rooted in truth, though. She might dare even call her pretty, if she didn't make it obvious what a trash heap she lived him. Of course, she'd never tell her that, though. " I can see clear as day that no queen ever told you what a bath is," Jokes, haha. It makes him feel that little bit better. It even lets him forget what he'd initially even been here for.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

She snorts back at his joke in turn, hearing her sarcasm and letting it roll off her shoulders. She lifts a paw and sticks it out in the direction Sharpshadow is, aiming to shove the warrior lightheartedly (but perhaps a bit too roughly). “Yeah? You offering to do the job then?” She jabs with a laugh, fangs glinting as her jaws open wide in amusement.

The joke really doesn’t bother her. She has never cared much for her looks or smell. She grooms just enough for her own comfort, like getting pesky twigs and burrs out of her tail or cleaning mud from her toes. Beyond that, she doesn’t pay much mind to what she may look like to others - it’s not like she can have anything to compare her appearance to anyhow.

Tilting her head in a faux-sweet manner, she dramatically bats her eyelashes and jokingly coos, “If you wanted to share tongues, you could’ve just asked!”​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

Despite him somewhat notably being the one who can see, he's not anticipating the shove, nor the strength of it, really. The jab to his shoulder is met with a sputter. Sharpshadow goes owl - eyed, repositioning his paws so that he wouldn't be bowled over— cause would that be embarrassing? Felled by a friendly gesture... that's what it was, wasn't it? He wonders how Forestshade could so easily do a thing that felt so alien to him. " Am I— Am I what? " he answers dumbly, whatever it is Sharpshadow had come to talk about before forgotten then and there.

He's thankful no one was there to see how unreasonably shell - shocked he probably looked. Blinking wide - eyed at Forestshade. " Ack, ew. Absolutely not, " he protests, quills rising along his spine. Of course he— well, no he didn't. If he ever did, it'd only be because he never has, not because it was Forestshade. ...Who is she defending herself against, even? " I'm hardly eager to— to stick my nose in that rat's nest of a pelt, " she sniffs. " Guess that's what makes you ShadowClan, through and through... "

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw Mentoring Halfpaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 18 moons old as of 12.19.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

His flabbergasted tone draws a huff and a snort from her, amusement trickling from her grin. His further rejection of her faux offer breaks the seal on whatever restrain she had and she howls in laughter, sitting back on her haunches and tossing her snout towards the sky. "I wish I could see your face right now!" She barks jollily, pelt fluffing out with mirth.

Sharpshadow is right about one thing, though. She is ShadowClan, through and through. She lifts her chin high, lips tight in a smug smile. "Sure is. Might as well have been born here." Her tail flicks to emphasize her words. Her mind draws back to their earlier conversation, most of the amusement on her face fading. She tilts her muzzle back towards her and trills, "So...do you hate this marsh? Like, that much?" Somehow, it scares her to think of the cats closest to her despising it here so much. It makes it feel...unstable, like things could change at any moment. More cats will leave, but this time cats she cares about. Friends.​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

It makes him feel... What does it make him feel? Not... good to be laughed at, especially not Forestshade's ugly fox - cackling. Did he... sound so stupid? Stupid enough to let her know his face was probably equally so? How could she sound less like an idiot? Something monotone? Something that spoke... unbothered? But then she'd be Smogmaw, and she wants anything but that. " Shut up, " he huffs, and it only makes him sound even more like a kit.

He can't imagine it— daring to look prideful while wearing ShadowClan's origins on your shoulders. All the leaders, deputies— anyone could stand to do was make ugly, scowling faces and thin - lipped, plain scowls. Of course, though. Of course, because what other face was there to make? It's so casual, the way Forestshade talks about it, and acutely tells her that she cares too much. That most of ShadowClan was keen not to acknowledge what she did. And... And she was happier for it. Smogmaw may frown all of the time, but that was because he knew...

Sharpshadow shrinks away, not as quick to move on from Forestshade's laughter as quick as she herself is. Of course, of course. But, ah, this is fun; supposed to be fun. And he could smile too. He could treat it casually too. " Yeah, I do. Like... that much. " he tells her, and it doesn't sound nearly as good when he says it. How does she do that? He's starting to hate her for it, or maybe he always has, but now he sticks around in hopes that he can take some of it from her. " The most famous amongst us are traitors and crazies... " Not her, though. She wouldn't be.

Not that she wanted to be famous... But she just wanted... Just... someone to look her way. Forestshade is looking her way, for some reason. Sharpshadow realizes this suddenly with a click of her teeth. " Maybe I'd like the sounds more if I didn't have to hear... some of our clanmate's insane ramblings... " He looks pointedly at Forestshade, even if, really, there are many, many more ShadowClanners that she would sooner rip her fur out listening to. Maybe he should consider herself lucky that Forestshade wasn't one of them.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw Mentoring Halfpaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 19 moons old as of 1.15.24 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​