pafp unravel | failed hunt, argument

[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

Dark paws thrum rapidly against the ground, sodden leaf litter and debris kicked up during the chase. She was gaining ground, inching ever closer to the lizard that lay just a outside of her grasp. The lithe creature weaved and bobbed underneath gnarled roots and over various obstacles, forcing Tornadopaw to jump at awkward angles to keep up. Wishing the chase to be over she miscalculates her final pounce, causing her foreleg to catch another root just barely concealed by thick marshy mud. The error hinders her stride, knocking her off balance as she stumbles rather ungracefully and topples to the ground as her prey skitters off.

Gritting her teeth she slams her paw against the ground, sending a spray of muck forth. Such a simple mistake had cost her a potential meal. The bridge of her nose wrinkles as she stands, favoring her left paw as it aches and throbs due to the suddenness of her wretch and fall. With any luck perhaps she could still locate it although he leaned heavily on the side of doubt. Dark lips pull into a thin line as she places weight upon her aching paw, the extent of her discomfort shooting up the length of her shoulder. Tornadopaw lopes forward a few steps before ultimately stopping, grimacing at her paw and the sprain that hindered quicker movement. (@GRANITEPAW) ​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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[GRANITEPELT]

Marsh grass stirs behind the curly-furred she-cat. A skulking gray tom, warrior-sized and strong despite his thinness, manifests like a discolored shadow. Adderlike green eyes score across her pelt like extended claws. "When's the last time you managed to catch anything to feed ShadowClan?" His mouth is downturned on a snow-bright muzzle.

Granitepaw half-circles Tornadopaw, remembering a day long ago, tagging behind Pitchstar as the mind-crippled fool had regarded three kittypet kits abandoned. "They could make good ShadowClan warriors," too many had protested, shouting Granitepaw back down.

He'd been right. Snowmask had been a useless kittypet at the end, and Tornadopaw...

Another memory washes over him. A kittypet kit, tangled fur and claws, challenging him to a brawl. The memory almost causes him to snort, but instead he only pauses his circling.

"What good are you really doing for ShadowClan?" His eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Besides a lot of talk, that is."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[BRINDLEPAW]

(=🝦 ﻌ 🝦=) — A toad hangs limply from Brindlepaw’s mud splashed face. It was going to be a pain in his fear getting all the muck off now, but if it fed his clan the dirty feeling that hung on his face would be well worth it. When he searches for his other patrol members he reunited with Granitepaw and Tornadopaw as the gray feline begins to circle and he begins to challenge. In an instant his toad drops onto the wet ground and a huge grin brightens the tom’s face, ”Wuh-woh! Granitepaw and the kitty pet are gonna fight!” He sneers to be intentionally obnoxious, ”I wanna see claws and spit flying from hisses! C’mon guys!”— tags​

 

[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

The sound of rustling foliage gathers her attention, citrine eyes glancing back in time to see Granitepaw encircle her with a look of disdain. She stands firm despite the ache running through her limb, chiseled jaw set as he accuses her of being unproductive. Venomous words strike the core of her heart, intoxicating what little confidence she had left given recent events. "I almost had it." She voices defensively. But his accusation continues to ring within her mind. Picking her apart. It unveils a painful revelation that her growth was stunted compared to her counterparts. That she failed to make progress in anything due to her severe lack of mentorship. What little she attempted to supplement on her own paled in comparison to actual teaching, and he noticed.

Granitepaw continues, dripping venom as he questions her. Insinuating a new level of worthlessness as her ears flatten reflexively. Her whiskers quiver, a surge of anger boiling within her belly. Line after line he cuts away at her resolve with unseen claws, fangs clenched tight because deep down he was right and she hated it. Her attention is briefly stolen by Brindlepaw, illustrated by a flick of her ear, although her eyes narrow dangerously. Kitty pet? The other apprentice didn't even find it proper to use her name? Is that what they truly thought about her all this time, what they whispered when she wasn't around? The rest of his words are muffled like cotton in her ears, developing tunnel vision whilst glaring at the slate and ivory tom. This was his fault, drawing unnecessary attention, pointing out her flaws for what? To embarrass her?

She cared little for the reason now. With little warning Tornadopaw thrusts herself at Granitepaw with the intention to bowl him over. Whether she is successful or not Tornado is hissing all the same. "Shut up. What gives you the right to judge me?" Her world is a blur and her mind is clouded with anger. (please don't try to break them up until after Granite's post) ​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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[SHARPSHADOW]

† There's an unfrotunate twinge of satisfaction that comes with the miss. Newleaf abounds with prey in comparison to the past season. Mothers pick their way onto the earth once again and their newly-borns are preened under nature's careful watch... It's a nice time to be born into. Nicer for them, with clumsy apprentices about– And it's... It's... (Nevermind that, nevermind). His on paws are empty. For once, he's begun to miss the tang of blood. (Nevermind)

"'Almost' does not feed bellies..." She mutters the mantra under her breath. It is not meant in bad faith, he promises it– but it's true. Rainshade had always told him so, and the elders rumbled hardily in agreement, especially in leaf-bare. But leaf-bare it certainly wasn't now, and in that way, he supposes Tornadopaw is safe. Sharppaw is only a shadow on the edge of the spitting, standing with worried eyes towards the ground beside Brindlepaw. None of his business, no not really. Something Brindlepaw has yet to learn. Sharppaw knows better, despite where she stood. The calm is quiet beside him.

Tornadopaw bristles with her voice, even if she bristled with nothing else. She wants to though, Sharppaw knows... And distantly, he agrees. Would Tornadopaw die the fool who cried over a worthless corpse?

What did give him the right? He was older... He had Starlingheart. Sharppaw's claws itch.

He and Tornadopaw weren't too different, Sharppaw realizes. But the grey apprentice hadn't cried over who left him. Was that what gave him the right?​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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chilledstar finds themself becoming increasingly agitated with more and more of these interactions. cats at each other's throats within their own clan makes them frustrated. they had better things to do than to try and tear each other's ears off, and yet somehow apprentices could not seem to get it together. where they hell were their mentors when they needed to actually be around? were they too busy hunting as well, or were they standing idly and watching these kits hiss and spit at each other? with a twitch of their nose, they find themself near the apprentice, clearing their throat, as an unamused and chilling looking grazed their features. they were unimpressed by everyone here.

"i do not recall giving you a warrior name, granitepaw. you have no right to speak to your denmates in such manner. hold your tongue, else you will find it gone from your mouth. got it?"

they snort, rolling their eyes in a dramatic fashion. he speaks to tornadopaw as if she is lower than he, and though chilledstar doesn't like kittypets, or any cat that doesn't fit into shadowclan, tornadopaw is no longer any of those. their tail lashed, and they grit their teeth towards brindlepaw, who is egging the idiocy on.

"cut it out."

they turn their attention back to tornadopaw who is frustrated and angry, lashing out at the very apprentice who only frustrated her further due to her lack of catch in prey. sharppaw speaks too, saying that almost does not catch prey. it was true, sure, but now wasn't the time. these kits would be the death of chilledstar, surely.

"alright, that's fucking enough. knock it the hell off. you wanna spar? fine. but you will not do it over something so idiotic as someone hurting your feelings. he is doing this on purpose, tornadopaw. using your weaknesses against you. go try again. and I don't want to hear another word from you about almost. as sharppaw said– almost does not feed hungry bellies. and sharppaw, remember you are not her mentor. worry about catching your own prey. all of you."

they snapped, before cleaning out their pelt briefly and returning to the hunt. they did not have time to babysit kits with their tails in a bunch. they just wouldn't do it.
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[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepaw is aware Brindlepaw and Sharppaw have drawn closer to watch the exchange. He's unbothered by their presence; he flicks an ear to acknowledge the mottled tom's jeers and gives Sharppaw a tiny, tight nod. Almost fills not bellies. That's right.

Tornadopaw is clearly fuming, and she goes on the defensive immediately. "I almost had it." Granitepaw snorts. What good are excuses? They, like almosts, feed no ShadowClan bellies. He prepares to dismiss the kittypet apprentice with a twitch of his tail, but the ebony-furred female instead decides to launch herself at him. It's a full-frontal attack, but even Granitepaw had seen it coming. He braces himself for the blow, and though he staggers, he does not fall as she wishes.

"Shut up! What gives you the right to judge me!" His anger matching hers, he hisses in her face and uses his upper body strength in an attempt to bowl her over; if successful, he will pin her to the forest floor. "What gives me the right? That I'm better than you. That I was born a ShadowClan cat, and you were not." He smiles, but it's grim, without any satisfaction in it.

He can say or do nothing further, however. Chilledstar comes to sneer at all apprentices present, ordering them to part. Threatening Granitepaw. He looks at the ShadowClan leader with eyes that are barely angry slits, but he dismounts Tornadopaw and lashes his tail. "Very well, Chilledstar." His tone is cold, but he does not display any outward insolence. He thinks about how every ShadowClan leader had been weak, and useless, and how Chilledstar has merely followed in their predecessors' pawprints. Is lording over the apprentices the best way they know how to exact their authority?

He looks at Tornadopaw thoughtfully as Chilledstar berates her, too. "He is doing this on purpose, Tornadopaw. Using your weaknesses against you." Of course he is. Her weaknesses are what's getting in the way of her successes, he wants to say, but he doesn't. He knows it's futile and could only end up delaying his warrior ceremony, which is the last thing he wants.

Granitepaw waits to see if Tornadopaw will react, waiting and flicking his tail tip.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

A flurry of movement and the slowing of time to bear witness to a grave mistake happens within the blink of an eye. Granitepaw hisses, bowling her over effortlessly only to pin her beneath his bulk. Breath is knocked from her lungs as yellow eyes screw shut briefly, teeth gritting from the impact. Curly furred arms shoot forward as her paws press against his chest, heaving to no avail. He's too strong and her paw still aches from her earlier painful tumble. Although his breath is hot against her face his words were colder than ice itself, chilling her to the bone as the bridge of her nose crinkles with despair. Every word more frigid than the last. She couldn't bring herself to listen any longer.

A smile etches itself across his face and he breath hitches in her throat. "Get off me." She musters, voice cracking, teetering on the cusp of shattering altogether. It's a pitiful sound despite how desperately she wished it weren't. Chilledstar shows their face before long and Granitepaw backs off as their ebony leader begins chastising them all. Finally feeling release she breaks away from the older apprentice, citrine eyes hard as the glare in his direction. Although the heat of her anger is mostly gone, drowning in public embarrassment as she backs away a step and turns to limp away from the group. ​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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