pafp WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT — disobedience

[DOOMPAW]

Abysspaw does not have to clean nests anymore, but Doompaw wonders if that’s a blessing or a curse. His brother is gone, forced into a kittypet lifestyle that the ragged-pelted tortoiseshell can’t comprehend. Cherrypaw has returned a hero—it’s enough to leave a taste like deathberries on his tongue when he looks at her, for reasons he can’t explain. His Clanmates rub his fur the wrong way more than they smooth it with their tongues. He’s on edge. When cats look his direction, sparks fly from his dark green eyes, singing their whiskers with his upset.

The cat who crosses that line most often is Twitchbolt.

“I’m not pickin’ anymore ticks!” The pale tom rages, whirling on his mentor and snapping at him with teeth bared. “Why should I? No one in SkyClan wanted t’look for my brother—no one wants me here either!” Spittle flies from his slick-wet fangs. He looks at his mentor, his lead warrior, his superior, with all the dislike, all the challenge he can muster. “I’m not doin’ it no more, so what are you gonna do about it?”

[ please wait for @TWITCHBOLT ]

, ”​

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Doompaw would kill him someday. He was sure of it- one way or another, the calico tom would cause his final breath. It would be stress or it would be directly. Twitchbolt, despite his short stature, liked to think he could best Doompaw in a fight- but he had not been teaching his apprentice to fight fair. And stress didn't fight fair, particularly...

Again, he was being whirled at, spittle and sparks flying at him. Disrespect was one of the few things Twitchbolt didn't tolerate- he'd worked hard for his position, as undeserving as it often felt. And Doompaw earned his patience sometimes, but today he had spent it.

"Doompaw, don't- don't be ridiculous," he said, a heavy and frayed sigh scraping through his throat. It took all of his energy not to scream, enough that he couldn't hide the bristling fur along his spine. The loss of Abysspaw was still tender, and he was sick of expressing that they'd done what they could. He wouldn't throw up repeating himself- in the expanse of Twolegplace, there wasn't any finding him without dying or being captured yourself. Wide eyes burned with anger- what are you gonna do about it?

"No battle training, no leaving the camp, no eating before the sun's set- anything to keep you in this camp to- to stop you running off and getting yourself killed." His expression was stern, furious. "Or you can keep picking ticks."​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Cherrypaw wouldn't miss seeing Doompaw's temper tantrum for the world. At any rate, it wasn't like she could miss it at all. He was being loud enough to pull StarClan down from the sky, and on their names does Cherrypaw wish they would come down and shut him up. Maybe the forces of StarClan were the only thing that could shut him up, with how he's raging and slobbering all over the place.

The girl likes Twitchbolt well enough, but she hates Doompaw more. Sure, Abysspaw had never bothered her like his brother had, and the disappearance of a clanmate was never a happy affair. But it didn't mean he had to act like a kit. At least he wasn't dead, and at least he wasn't partially responsible for it. Maybe then she'd give him a pass for being a thorn in his mentor's side. "Say it, don't spray it," she cattily reminds him from the sidelines, pressing a paw over her mouth for extra emphasis.

Privately, she admits he has a point. She doesn't want him here! No one has since his birth probably, except for maybe Pearlpaw. Even more privately, she admits she'd want him gone, but not dead. And that was basically the same thing as being outside a clan and alone for an apprentice their age. "Doompaw, I bet you're really good at picking ticks. I bet they, like, love your smell," she adds, as if to prove herself wrong.​

 

[CROWSIGHT]

"I like you Doompaw," he interrupts as he approaches the trio. There is no lie in his words. Yes, while Doompaw could be questionable he was his sort of brother's friend. Plaguepaw liked Doompaw for a reason. Unless something happened and the two were no longer friends. Even so, he didn't loathe Doompaw. He can be annoying, but he very much liked Doompaw's vigor and bluntness. They needed cats to speak their mind more, even to adults. On that note, Twitchbolt is starting to become annoying. If you want Doompaw to hate you more then keep doing what you're doing. Picking ticks is no fun! Silversmoke makes me do it sometimes and I hate it! If I was Doompaw I'd find a way to run away. The tom would glance at Cherrypaw, ignoring her rude comment towards Doompaw.

Crowpaw would then focus his attention towards Doompaw. If Twitchbolt didn't want him to leave camp, then he had a solution to that! Although he's not sure about the no battle training part. Maybe he means not from him. "If you can't leave camp how about we spar in camp every day together?" Please keep in mind he mentioned nothing about ticks. While he may not hate Doompaw and enjoy his presence. That doesn't mean he wants to pick ticks if he doesn't have to. Anyhow, Twitchbolt can't possibly be enraged by this suggestion. After all, Doompaw would still remain in camp and by no means would sparring would get them killed. They would be in camp which meant multiple pairs of eyes will be watching and interrupt them if things started to go too far.

 

[DOOMPAW]

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Twitchbolt says, and Doompaw feels the fire of his anger beginning to lick his ribcage, to leave blackened bone in its wake. He bares his teeth toward his mentor, his pelt fluffing up into spikes. “I don’t care,” he says, though tears, pent-up tight, begin to prick just the corners of serpentine-green eyes. He can feel his mentor’s impatience seep through the earth, poisoning the earth under his paws and searing the pads, but he does not relent. Abysspaw has been missing for moons. There is no sign he’s coming back on his own—and Blazestar, Orangeblossom, Twitchbolt, none of them care.

And then Cherrypaw opens her mouth. He turns his back on Twitchbolt, stalking toward the tortoiseshell and accruing enough spit in his mouth to make a waterfall. With a disgusting nasal sound, Doompaw spits all the contents in his mouth in Cherrypaw’s direction in an attempt to douse her. “Why don’t you mind your own business, prissypaws,” he hisses, using all the spittle in his mouth to enunciate the s’s.

Doompaw feels Crowpaw’s kindness, his attempt at damage control, but it comes much too late. The pale tom regards his denmate with a frown. “I—I don’t wanna stay in camp! I wanna go look for my brother, and no one’s gonna stop me!” He turns to rake Twitchbolt with his claw-like gaze one more time. It’s as close to a plea as he can get with his temper up.

, ”​

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[Cherryblossom]

Like clockwork, Doompaw's head whips towards her the instant her jeers leave her mouth. Yellow eyes watch him with a self-satisfied expression as he storms towards her, and beneath her silky fur she tenses in wait of another kitlike scuffle. Too late does she realize what he's really up to. "EUGH!" the girl shrieks, flying backwards with a haste only desperation could birth. She can feel the cool gooeyness of Doompaw's spittle sliding down her cheeks and forehead as she backs away, ears pinned to her skull as she shakes it in fierce hope of centrifuging it all off.

Her baleful glare is cut short by a gag, tongue curling fitfully into the air where spitdrops had once rained. "You—! Gross little—" StarClan's kits, it's all over her, isn't it? Grossgrossgrossgross— Crowpaw's voice only adds to the mounting chaos in her head, something about siding with Doompaw. She doesn't even have time to shoot him a glare as she turns and flees, off to the nearest puddle of water to wipe the scum off her face and douse her burning cheeks.

Later, when she dreams of all the comebacks she could've said in her nest that night, she thinks to herself, Maybe your brother ran off by himself 'cause he couldn't stand you! Hopefully she'd get the chance to use that one day.

ooc: out!​

 

[SLATE]

While Slate has experienced his fair share of insubordination from an apprentice, never has he witnessed anything to this magnitude — a trainee practically having a meltdown over wanting out of his duties and out of SkyClan. Slate parts his maw to say something, to get Twitchbolt to control his unruly pupil, but he was frankly exerting himself already. He never thought the other lead warrior could muster such a stern voice.

A part of him thinks the ever-snooty Cherrypaw to be deserving of a humbling of sorts, especially after stoking the flames of the situation, but spit to the face is utterly disgusting. Doompaw would be trapped under Slate's claws like a bed of moss had that been him instead. Luckily for the apprentice it wasn't, though he still raised a brow at the treatment toward Cherrypaw.

He watches wordlessly as the tortoiseshell she-cat storms off, a signal that he should step in and try to put a swift end to this absurd display. "I say stop wasting your time and let 'im. The kid obviously doesn't wanna be here." Slate grunts toward Twitchbolt while managing only a brief side eye toward Doompaw. "Who knows, maybe he'll realize how stupid his decision was and come runnin' back." Or not. Not that it mattered to Slate. The lead warrior did not know Doompaw very well aside from his infamous attitude. He personally would not mind if the apprentice got lost; just one less troublemaker to wrangle and waste their efforts on. Twitchbolt could pour his energy into training a youth who actually had the potential to be an asset to SkyClan.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

• 

• 

  ✰ 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

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Though he trembled in the face of his apprentice, Twitchbolt showed no sign of being afraid, nor backing down- he had heard those words from the calico tom's most time and time again. That he wasn't having it anymore, that he wasn't going to pick any more ticks or change any more nests, that no-one wanted him there. He didn't know how many more times he could tell Doompaw none of it was true before he threw up the words and died.

Ever-present bickering between Cherrypaw and his own apprentice earned Slate's ire. Had Twitchbolt been in more right mind he might have offered the other lead warrior an apologetic glance, but his emotions were so coiled and lava-hot that the brown-and-white tom could hardly bear to turn his head to greet him. Crowpaw, too, went largely unnoticed in the scarlet haze of Twitchbolt's impatience- it was like bloodshot veins were lancing through his eyes, blinding him with irritation. As Doompaw soaked Cherrypaw with spittle, he finally snapped.

"Enough of this, Doompaw!" Twitchbolt hissed. He'd lost it, really, it was embarrassing- they'd think he was no better than some whirling maniac. He couldn't think, couldn't- and Slate wasn't making it much better. Let him, he said, and Twitchbolt snarled. The amber streak in his left eye burned with bonfire fury.

"I am not going to live to see another apprentice die!" Twitchbolt's voice sang with emotion, hoarse and frayed. He needed to lie down. "Not- not if I can help it." He swallowed, attempting to gather any decorum he might have smashed all over the floor as he looked back toward Doompaw. "We will look for Abysspaw along the border. Where we can. You will never- never leave camp without me. Understand?" ​

penned by pin ✧​