camp Victory Screech - mischief

Bristlekit

- menace -
Nov 19, 2022
20
1
1
WILLING TO SACRIFICE

It was a cold morning, colder than any he had felt before, and according to the older cats in the clan it was only going to get colder. Bristlekit's fur is fluffed out as he exits the nursery, aqua eyes raking across the clearing. Soon, the dawn patrol would be returning with food, like they always did. After that, Bristlekit would happily fill his stomach. In the meantime, he fills his morning by stalking after a pebble, batting it across the camp as if it were some kind of moss-ball. The exercise warms him up and lightens his mood, until he spots a few apprentices talking about their training nearby. The child stops his playful action, peers at them with curious eyes. They were talking about battle training. Oh, he was jealous, so very jealous. Bristlekit wanted to be a warrior more than anything else, but he wasn't old enough, apparently. Well... were there any rules against training if he wasn't a paw? If there was, nobody had ever told him.

So, with that foolish thought in mind, Bristlekit lets his icy gaze sweep across the clearing once more, before finally landing upon a nearby WindClan that didn't appear too preoccupied. Dropping into a clumsy crouch, Bristlekit prowls up behind the larger feline, his over-sized paws causing him to wobble as he creeps ever closer across chilled earth. Then, with a spitting hiss, Bristlekit launches himself at the other WindClanner, sinking his tiny claws into their tail. With a triumphant yowl, the kitten announces his victory, "Got you! You're dead now!" Bristlekit informs with a toothy smirk.
 
Impervious to the morning chill as per usual, Nettlepaw was content to idle in the open for now, rather than retreat to a warmer nook. A group of apprentices chattered nearby, sounding as though they were making actual progress in their training from what he could overhear. He wasn't jealous... or at least, he tried not to be. Secluding himself from them, he was content to loiter in solitude, hoping on the off-chance that Oliveshade would take him out of the camp that day. Stretching out in wait, the young cat sprawled on his belly before tucking his paws beneath him. The only exposed appendage left uncovered by his accumulating fluff was his tail, which swished back and forth in thought. He hadn't come across much inspiration for any of his rhymes recently, instead worrying himself with practice in his free-time. There wasn't much he could do in the tunnels without Oliveshade's supervision, though he tried to chart out the known routes in his mind. He struggled to conjure much accurate imagery, at least for the moment. The apprentice sighed, letting his chin hit the earth in defeat while his feathery tail lashed even more.

Unbeknownst to him, a certain kit had locked his sights right onto the tail sweeping over flattened grass — though Bristlekit's claws couldn't fully pierce through the dense fur on his tail, the prick of their points still brought Nettlepaw to jolt. Effectively snapping him from his daydreams, the apprentice whirled around to see who exactly pounced on his tail. He huffed at the sight of the tabby kit, almost bemused. "Oh, hi," he meowed back, trying to yank his tail away from Bristlekit and curl it around himself instead. He wasn't sure how to handle kits, despite being technically close in age. "...Are you trying to train?" Nettlepaw hesitantly asked, piecing together the proclamation of his own death with how Oliveshade had pinned him by the neck. He could only hope that, in the future, Bristlekit would be spared from a mentor like his own.
 
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as much as shrewtuft loved the outdoors and the expansive lands windclan had to offer she sometimes had to wonder if it was really worth it to sleep out in the openess of camp instead of inside a nice, warm den every night. something about being closer to starclan? honestly, did it even matter? last time she checked only special cats like dandelionwish could fan-dangle with the stars and everyone else just waited around till something happened. does starclan give them better dreams?

her deep sense of pondering is quickly interupted by the sound of a kittenish yowl coming from bristlekit who currently has the tail of nettlepaw pinned down underneath tiny paws. amused, the newly named warrior is trotting over to greet the two. "wow, yer already on the way to becomin' the fiercest warrior windclan has ever seen!" she mews with a toothy smile, eyes flicking briefly over the apprentice who appeared unsure of just how to handle the unfolding event. she forgets not everyone is used to kits and their hyperactive ways.

"well, if he is practicin' you should show him a trick or two from yer trainin, nettlepaw!" its a light-hearted suggestion and whether he goes through with it or not is up to him.
[ penned by cobi ]
 
WILLING TO SACRIFICE

The tail is promptly pulled away, and Bristlekit stares up at the apprentice with a bit of a pout. Well, until Nettlepaw asked him if he was trying to train. A mischievous smirk dashed across the tiny tabby's maw.

"Sure am!" Bristlekit responds with a prideful purr, one ear twitching toward the approach of Shrewtuft. The compliment she grants him is enough to make the child beam with a toothy, delighted grin. Oh, he most certainly would become the fiercest warrior WindClan had ever seen! Every other clan would know better than cause trouble again, with Bristlekit prowling the moors. Ears dart upward as Shrewtuft prods Nettlepaw about showing off some of the things he had learned, and the kitten practically dances in place.

"That would be awesome! Show me how to fight like a warrior does!" Bristlekit bared his fangs with a mock growl, giving the air a good few swipes to show his enthusiasm.
 
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Bristlekit may be a menace, but Weaselclaw finds nothing wrong with his antics. He's sharp, the lead warrior thinks, and in his opinion, is sure to shape up into a fine apprentice. He sneaks up on Nettlepaw, which Weaselclaw finds shameful. A half-trained apprentice being asked to show this kit how to fight.

Weaselclaw would attempt to flick his tail tip against Bristlekit's flank. "Next time, if you want, maybe you can watch a spar and see Nettlepaw in action." In action. Yikes. That's one way to put it, he supposes.

- ,,
 
He cannot hide the grimace that appeared on his face at Shrewtuft's suggestion, whiskers twitching in jealousy. She got to be considered a competent warrior, while he remained beneath Oliveshade's mentorship. Nettlepaw knew she wasn't mocking him, that she only meant well, but the bitter words fell from his otherwise shy mouth nonetheless. "What training?" he grumbled, tilting his head away so he didn't have to look at the new warrior.

No, he shouldn't be disrespectful. Weaselclaw's arrival hastily reminded him of that fact. His expression shifted back to something less incriminating, regarding the lead warrior with a nervous glance. The pity radiating from the warrior, the whole clan, is tangible. Almost suffocating, like a collapsing tunnel crumbling all around him. His breath hitched at the mention of a spar. "Y-yeah. I can show you then," he half-heartedly agrees, paws trembling beneath the tail that concealed them. Nettlepaw forced a wavering smile down at the kit, echoing Shrewtuft's sentiments. "You'll probably end up being a better warrior than me," he tried to encourage. As long as your mentor is better than mine.