pafp there's nothing left to say now — intro

[MOONFANG.]

The bluish-gray tom comes trotting into camp, with a handful of prey in his maw. His hunting party members came following behind him with their caught prey, but Moonfang does not wait for them as he heads over to the freshkill pile. He drops his share in the pile, and grabs a mouse to quell his rumbling belly. The day was coming to a close, and Moonfang couldn't feel more prouder of him right now. He's finally a warrior! Apprenticeship was bitter hard work, but it was so worth it. The training sessions, picking ticks out of the elder's fur, replacing nests— all of it. He made a great first impression as a warrior during that hunting patrol, he's sure of it.

He sits himself down in front of the warriors den and begins to enjoy his meal, his green eyes scanning the lively camp. The day was coming to a close— daylight warriors will be heading back soon, returning to the comfort of their twoleg nest. Silverpelt will soon cloak the sky, and he and his clanmates will retire to their nests— whether in a den, or within the twolegplace. His eyes fall on the apprentice den as he takes his final bite, and he finds himself rising to his paws. Cherrypaw— one of SkyClan's numerous apprentices— was in mid-conversation with another apprentice, it seems like she finished her prey if she has time to talk so much! He pads over to the young apprentice, ignoring the fact that this was his den too a few mere days ago. "Cherrypaw," Moonfang meows, unfazed if he caught her by surprise. "Since you seem to be done with your meal, replace the nests in the nursey before it gets dark," He says with an authoritative tone, his tail swishing behind him. It would be quite the shame if the kits and queens had to retire for the night in uncomfortable nests, wouldn't it?​

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱

• please wait for @Cherrypaw to post before replying! :3c
  
• 
  
  
  

  ---

  
  
• 
  
  Moonfang

  ​
  
  
  

  warrior
  ambitious
  conceited
  experience: trained
  backstory: mistaken identity
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: bluish-gray
  fur length: short
  parents: persephone and hades (kittypet npcs)
  12 moons
  
  
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[Cherryblossom]

The dimming light is warm on Cherrypaw's patched back, and the apprentice lies soaking up what are perhaps the last dregs of sunset warmth before Leaf-bare arrived. Another day, another tidbit of warriorship pounded into her mind. Today had been tracking: she'd gotten absolutely sick of the scent of Slate's specific stink mixed in with fresh pine and bark, whether it be catching it on the nearby foliage or trying so hard to she just started imagining it instead. "Like, I'm gonna be honest," she meows to her companion, gesturing lazily with a paw that she'd been using to comb through her cheeks. "I just don't think tracking is, like, my thing, you know?" She shrugs. "I don't really need it anyway. Like, what am I gonna do, track—"

The shuffle of rain-kissed paws behind her was all the warning she had before Moonfang's voice practically cleaved her ear fur in half. "StarClan's kits, Moonpaw!" she hisses, snapping her head round to glare up at him with acrid yellow eyes. "Sorry, Moonfang," she continues, position unchanged. She snootily curls her tail around herself, as though to ward off her former denmate's loathsome presence. "Can't you see I'm busy? When did Blazestar die and make you leader? You were an apprentice, like, yesterday." The calico scoffs. "If you wanna lick their tails so badly, why don't you do it?" She rolls her eyes at her fellow apprentice, a silent "can you believe this guy?"

ooc: feel free to be the apprentice she's talking to!​

 

[SLATE]

The Maine Coon has taken to the shadowy sidelines of camp like he always does, watching with yellowy eyes the gradual wind-down of activities for the day. It had been a pretty standard day; no joiners to confront, no gossiping sessions for all ears to drop in on, no unusual scents to take note of upon the borders. Things were truly falling into place again.

His watchful stare fixes onto Moonfang, the blue tom depositing his kill onto the pile before taking his own share. The freshly-made warrior had grown to be quite the hunter, it seemed, of course with thanks to his mentor. Slate wonders if Cherrypaw will be whipped into shape and sculpted into the warrior that she had the potential to be by the time she receives her own name; her mother was a talented climber and a fierce fighter, as was her father. Would she even bother listening to him anymore?

Speaking of Cherrypaw, his mangled ears pricked at the voice of Moonfang ordering the tortoiseshell she-cat around. Slate finds himself surprised by this, in all honesty — it was unorthodox for just any warrior to boss an apprentice that wasn't his. Lead warriors, sure, but new ones?

Not that Cherrypaw couldn't stand to pick up the slack instead of flapping her jaws to her friend, but he was not keen on just any cat taking the reigns over his trainee. It felt like, in a sense, an insult — did Moonfang think him to be a lackluster mentor? "I'll give my apprentice orders, Moonfang. Not you." The lead warrior rumbles as he gets to his paws and makes his way over on hefty limbs. A neutral stare teeters on a thin line between irritation as he eyes the blue-hued tom. "You'll get your own to boss around soon enough." His eagerness to distribute commands was nearly amusing to the Maine Coon; as Cherrypaw said, he had only just become a warrior. He seemed to waste no time in exerting his newfound authority.

Slate's half-lidded stare flits toward Cherrypaw now, a figurative brow cocking slightly. Hm, Moonfang's idea wasn't half-bad. However, he would prefer to assign Cherrypaw tasks himself from now on. "However, he does have a point. Maybe you two could continue your very important conversation while replacing the nests, hm?" He did not believe himself to be a hypocrite for roping Cherrypaw's companion into den duty without their mentor's say; he was a lead warrior and had the privileges to do so. An average warrior, like Moonfang, did not.

The Maine Coon knows that she'll be annoyed with him for giving her a chore to do, but her work for the day did not end with training. Cleaning around the camp was an apprentice's job and she would have to just suck it up if she didn't like it. His gaze is unmoving as is his will, as if daring her to make a fuss about it. Slate would be genuinely surprised if Cherrypaw obeyed his word without issue.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣

• 

• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[DOOMPAW]

Doompaw is paw-sore and grouchy, his fur ruffled and littered with scraps of pine needle. His jaws hold a single finch, a hard-won catch that he would be proud of, if he weren’t so irritable. He’s still condemned to camp unless accompanied by @TWITCHBOLT , and he now takes every opportunity to tag onto a hunting patrol that he can. His temper tantrum hasn’t been forgotten by his mentor, nor has it by himself—and he still means every word. Every second he sits idle in camp, paws combing through some stinking old fool’s pelt, he thinks of the danger his littermate might be in at the naked paws of Twolegs.

One of the cats on the patrol, newly-named Moonfang, notices an idle pair of apprentices and attempts to boss them around. Had it been anyone else, Doompaw would have scowled in his direction—the blue warrior’s fur still carries the smell of the apprentice’s den, after all—but it’s Cherrypaw, and she sasses the young warrior in front of her own mentor and everything.

“Don’t you know,” Doompaw sneers to anyone present, “that Cherrypaw is better than the rest of us, because she went to the mountains?” His green gaze rakes over her fur. “Not all of us are special enough to get almost-eaten by a hawk.”

, ”​

​

 

[LUPINESONG]

❀‿ It was nice having Cherrypaw back. Lupinepaw basked in the last bit of warmth the shortened day's sun had to offer and nodded along thoughtfully to her friend's commentary on the day's training. She herself enjoyed the challenge of tracking, but she wasn't unfamiliar with the frustration of not being an immediate natural talent at every skill. The molly hummed along as she cleaned some loose leaf-litter clinging to her pelt and concurred, "No yeah, I get it, there's plenty of things a warrior can be good at, you know. And it's not like you only have your nose to- excuse you?"

She stared incredulously at Moonfang as he interrupted their conversation and proceeded to try ordering Cherrypaw around. The calico—justifiably—points out that he was hardly past being an apprentice himself, and Lupinepaw meets her eye-roll with her own, He had to be joking, right? How rude...

Slates arrives to tell off the ego-inflated new warrior and she's almost grateful for his gruff, tactless attitude. But her brief moment of graciousness is soured immediately when he turns upon the pair to order them around himself. Lupinepaw should've known better than to think she could appreciate the dour-faced lead warrior in any capacity without him reminding everyone that he was not, in fact, cool. The smokey-furred apprentice sits up straighter and meets his glowering gaze with a prim sniff, "You know you can say please, right? We'd be happy to help out the queens and kits, you don't have to push us around." She doubted he ever used his manners, honestly, she didn't think she'd ever heard him doing anything around camp besides barking out orders.

Doompaw's sneering intrusion made her bristle, and she whipped her head around to stare icily at the ill-tempered tom. "That's entirely uncalled for," Lupinepaw narrowed her eyes at him, "I didn't see you volunteering to help save the clans, you should mind yourself before butting in on anyone else. Anyways, aren't you on punishment... again?" Rarely did she ever get her bite back when the likes of Doompaw made jabs at other cats, but she was starting to feel ganged up on, and she couldn't see Doompaw as anything but an opportunistic drama-feeder. Lupinepaw knew only a little about Cherrypaw's traumatic incident in the mountains, but she did know that bringing it up was a nasty attempt at hurting her with its reminder. What was his problem?

JUST LIKE THAT ⊹₊°❀‿ THE MOON GOES FLAT

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — lupinekit . lupinepaw
  — trans she/her. 7mo apprentice of skyclan
  — tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
  — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
  — penned by eezy

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 Sulking in the cloud-blessed scraps of shadow that hid SkyClan's camp from an otherwise searingly bright sun, Edenpaw had spent many idle moments with a bobbed-tail twitching as others milled about unphased. What had been a harrowing experience for all the clans seemed relatively forgotten, as if the journey cats had never left at all, like they didn't have dead they'd buried in the ground less than a moon ago. It frustrates them... and that creates a discomfort in their gut already. They hated the way anger felt, hot and sour and tight.... Grief, worse still, heavy, cold, salty... The lackadaisical chatter of their friends proved an easy enough ramp towards a better mood near immediately--

They creep over half-crouched to sit nearby Lupinepaw as she starts responding to whatever Slate-related complaint the sunshine-furred girl had. Talents? Edenpaw regretted joining this conversation... an ear flicking to dispel the stinging behind their eyes. Just gossip... we can do gossip...

They think to propose that Cherrypaw is an excellent natural leader, opening their maw half-way to utter the compliment before an over-confident boy speaks up nearby to make demands. For all their joyous, friendly nature, even the obsidian-striped feline knew this was nothing short of stupid... "You can't do it," they ask pointedly, a single green eye glancing from his empty, loud moth to his equally empty paws. Not like he was lugging in some great catch for lunch or anything...

Slate manifests (he has the nasty habit of bothering Cherrypaw alllllllll the time) and for a miraculous few seconds, seems perfectly reasonable. It is Lupinepaw's rebuttal to the then prompted 'reassignment' that reminds Edenpaw they should probably speak up too. "I can do it Slate!" They would rather leave useful paws busy doing other stuff... like hunting, which they were a complete failure at. "Cherrypaw is better at hunting than I am," they admit out loud, ignoring the way it felt like a claw ripped off to humiliate themself so openly.

Why now? Doompaw could never keep his thoughts to himself... and especially when it involved berating Cherrypaw. Why couldn't they just get along? And why was he being so unfair? Lupinepaw once again hisses out a defense and leaves the bi-color kittypet feeling slow to react. "Maybe let's not... talk about almost dying," they ask rhetorically, practically sinking into the floor as their ears flatten. Too many had died to mock escaping it so flippantly... I wish Tawnystripe had been half so lucky....​

 

[falcongaze]

❝ STATUES AND EMPIRES✧°.☀ ————————————
Falconpaw shares a similar bounty as Doompaw- he's been dragged through the dirt lately, and the dizzy spells were only slowly getting better. @GREENEYES was keeping eyes on him like a hawk since he had toppled over, something that he hoped wasn't spread around camp like common information. It always had been, if it came to Cherrypaw and her merry band of friends. Well- that was... excluding Lupinepaw, his thoughts considered briefly.

Why? He wasn't sure. Blue eyes blinked as he settled his skinny mouse upon the pile near Doompaw and Moonfang's. The conversation Cherry and Lupine were having caused him to pick his head up and watch. Moonfang found himself lipping to Cherrypaw- something that Falconpaw himself wouldn't have done (though he totally has in the past), and Slate's chiming in. A whole roster of cats are talking, spitting insults towards each other. Lupinepaw's words bite towards Doompaw, and his nose wrinkled softly.

And while he hated coming to Cherrypaw's defense....

Falconpaw was padding over, taller then that of the rest of similarly-aged apprentices there. "Edenpaw is right." Falconpaw finally spoke. The arcing scar down his left cheek came at the talons of a bird- a falcon, his namesake. "And, anyways, if getting almost eaten by a bird is all it takes to be special, then I guess plenty of us are." He spoke sharply in response to Doompaw. He wasn't sorry, after all, the grouping of apprentices in front of him had always picked bones with him.

And with that, he's turning on his paw. "If Greeneyes doesn't want me for anything else, I'll go grab some moss for you two." His speech is directed to Lupinepaw first, but Cherrypaw by extension.

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ ALL AT YOUR PAWS ❞ ​

​