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: ̗̀➛ SCORPIONPAW
Guest
——— 𓆩⟡𓆪 ———
I'M GONNA WIN
I'M GONNA WIN
The already high-energy Scorpionpaw seems to be only further energized by her new status, practically vibrating with the excitement of it. There is a jittering under her skin, a need to do something, and already strong impulse only furthered by responsibility. A young mind clings naively and simply to what she has learned; glory through violence, through retribution and bloodshed, be it blood of prey or enemy. Praise heaped upon the strong. So she must be strong, she must always be strong. She doesn't like sitting idle.
Her mentor isn't training her right now, and that is a problem. She needs something to do. So, a target has been caught in her sights. Clay-colored eyes are wide, spiky tail lashing. And then, she pounces, just as her mother showed her when she was a kit. She's been training since far before she was apprenticed.
Her target: an upsuspecting crow, perched high on the gorse wall. She doesn't catch it, it's far too high for her tiny form to reach. Still, it flies away with a loud caw and she declares her victory for all to hear. "That's right! I gotcha!" she jeers. "Fly on back to where ya came from, stupid bird! Go back t' eating your trash with your ShadowClan friends!" The last two words are spat like a curse, enemy, not cat. "Scorp's an apprentice now, Scorp's got claws and teeth, stay here and I'll skewer ya!" She cackles gleefully. Skewer is a good word, she learned that one recently. She watches the bird fly away with satisfaction; she may not know how to catch things yet, but she can still be scary.
Her mentor isn't training her right now, and that is a problem. She needs something to do. So, a target has been caught in her sights. Clay-colored eyes are wide, spiky tail lashing. And then, she pounces, just as her mother showed her when she was a kit. She's been training since far before she was apprenticed.
Her target: an upsuspecting crow, perched high on the gorse wall. She doesn't catch it, it's far too high for her tiny form to reach. Still, it flies away with a loud caw and she declares her victory for all to hear. "That's right! I gotcha!" she jeers. "Fly on back to where ya came from, stupid bird! Go back t' eating your trash with your ShadowClan friends!" The last two words are spat like a curse, enemy, not cat. "Scorp's an apprentice now, Scorp's got claws and teeth, stay here and I'll skewer ya!" She cackles gleefully. Skewer is a good word, she learned that one recently. She watches the bird fly away with satisfaction; she may not know how to catch things yet, but she can still be scary.
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