WATCH MY STEED GO FAR ↷ [ Applejaw ]



Smogmaw has grown sceptical as to where his obligations and imperatives lie in his role as a father. Sceptical may be too hardline a descriptor, the word's connotation being in a negative and distrustful light; but the fact remains he's grappling with factors that confound his navigation. Half his offspring are adult-aged warriors, and fully able to fend for themselves. What is Smogmaw obligated to them? He cannot afford them special protection, or privilege, or favour—ShadowClan's foundations are built solely upon nepotism, and it is a reality which he hopes to overturn.

Corresponding with this, Smogmaw deeply wants to keep his family ties strong. He has beared witness to the implosion of two familial units in the last four seasons (Starlingheart and Lilacfur's respective separations, namely), and the devastation such an implosion causes. His own has been immensely fortunate to emerge from Halfshade's passing largely intact. But for how much longer can it endure beyond implicit love and a shared history? For a cat not given to sentimentality or idealism, Smogmaw finds himself questioning the matter more and more.


After a lengthy bout of ruminating, pondering, and perhaps a touch of theorising, the deputy has come to a conclusion: simple gestures of his gratitude, starting with Applejaw. His firstborn, who'd inherited her mother's temperament, and carried with her the first name that Smogmaw had ever given another. His pride and joy, Applejaw. He'd never told her, but there were times where Smogmaw was utterly floored by the realisation he'd created her. Her.

Plucked from a random patch of shrubbery out in the territory's outer reaches, a cluster of small star-shaped flowers was held in his jaw as he entered camp. Their petals are fiery orange in hue, backward-curving in shape, and the scent they give off is sweet, yet sharp. When his eldest daughter entered his visual scope, Smogmaw padded briskly over to her, and dropped the prize between his paws. A blithe smile plastered across his maw, his tail sweeping the earth below. "I saw 'em and thought of you, Applejaw," he offers simply. "You'd look real pretty with these tucked behind your ear."

// @APPLEJAW