pafp Who you gonna call? || o.

[Flaxshade]

Observation is the first step of any experiment​

---

Flaxshade had been watching closely, oh so close. He knew of Thriftpaw's little heritage, and albiet one to not care of ones loyalty the tom wanted to see Thriftpaw squirm, to see what got underneath the kid's fur, something that Flaxshade sometimes was good at. Despite his silly little moments, there were times like this that would make someone look twice onto the tunneler. Of course, perhaps another reason for how he approached the apprentice, or perhaps it was stictly out of their own boredom. Yet it was not hard to convince the other on a stroll, their tail up high as they trotted slightly while humming, little Thrifty by his side.

Copper eyes would lay upon the cream tom before he spoke, "Say, your parents were loners correct? Might I ask where your loyalty lies? With Windclan or with the folks who you never met?" the sing song of his voice honeyed with amusement before he paused, keeping a close eye on the other's reaction. Flaxshade hot copper eyes burning into the skin of the apprentice. With tension within the clan going high, it was hard to determined who was friend or who would be considered foe. Would the little apprentice allow himself to continued being underneath the weight of others? Or would he eventually stick up for himself?

A soft chuckle came from Flaxshade'a lips "with tension high, who would you back? Or would you run and hide?" he questioned, call it what you will but, the tom was quiet curious where the others loyalty lies. Flaxshade, unsure for himself just watched from the sidelines, the push and pull of loyalst versus those who felt the need to go against their leader's wishes. What would little Thriftpaw here choose?​

"speak""Thoughts"​

Please wait for @Thriftpaw to respond! ))

 

[Thriftfeather]

Thriftpaw knows to be wary when Flaxshade offers a walk. His ears tip back, a small movement, before he rights his expression and rises to follow, trailing behind a stride. It's caution that slows him, and self preservation that keeps his expression a careful neutral up until Flaxshade speaks. There is something grating in his tone—too sweet too be genuine. It is nothing that Thriftpaw hasn't heard before. His hackles rise anyway.

Haven't I proved myself enough? Thriftpaw frowns, indignant. He thinks of all the things he can say in an instant—how it shouldn't matter that he is loner born, that fighting alongside his clan to earn camp back should be proof enough of his loyalties, but such words do not leave him. No matter that Thriftpaw thinks it shouldn't matter if he is lonerborn because, whether he likes it or not, it does matter. He will need to prove himself again and again, and WindClan will never be satisfied.

As it should be, Thriftpaw reminds himself. It isn't his fault that he doesn't have the same blood ties as his peers do to WindClan, but neither is it theirs for not trusting him for it.

"If Ghostwail hadn't found me—if Ghostwail hadn't found me I would have died." It's true enough. In another world Thriftpaw hadn't moved to better see what had happened, or he hadn't made a half-sound when that thorn had pricked his ear. In another world Ghostwail had passed him by without ever noticing, and in that world, Thriftpaw knows he would have starved if he hadn't been picked off by some predator first, "Sootstar welcomed me, and WindClan raised me. Where else—where else would I go?"

It's something that Thriftpaw has asked himself—if not WindClan, then where?

"What would it take?" Thriftpaw asks without the frustration one may expect with his words. His question is earnest, he truly wants to know, "What would I need to do to uh—to convince you of my loyalties?"​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 9 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) The moor-runners paws had become cakes with mud after a morning's worth of tracking a hare. The leftover evenings rain had made for damp fields and even harder scent trails to follow, earning him empty-pawed in his vain attempts to catch anything. Hollowcreek did not bother with feeling frustrated, already set for another path toward the sun-warmed pool for a refreshing drink before continuing on again.

In the midst of his trail he overheard Flaxshade and Thriftpaw's conversation. His ears perked up in curiosity, stilling his movements to eavesdrop on the pair.

"... would you go back? Or would you run and hide?"

Hollowcreek crept closer as he listened to Thriftpaw's defense and, quite honestly, found Flaxshade's questioning quite unusual. Perhaps Gravelsnap wasn't the strongest, most outspoken loyal cat like himself but the golden tabby had never done anything to make him uncertain about his loyalties. But of course this was Flaxshade asking, perhaps he was prodding at Thriftpaw just for fun.

The hulking tom rose over the crescent of the hill at last and approached them.

"Quite the conversation we're having!" There's laughter in his tone. "What has Thriftpaw done to set you off, Flaxshade? Overlooked a tick?"
​

( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[cottonsprig]

In her youth, Cottonpaw would've so easily followed the negging train. Kittypets and loners were unbecoming, undeserving even, of their moors. Rogues were a difficult topic, even come her birth, due to the beginnings of many of their cats - but regardless, the young she would've so easily bid into the conversation on the side of the WindClanners. However she grew up with Thriftpaw, watched as he ensured his place in the Clan again, and again, and again. Would it ever be enough?

"Maybe Thriftpaw ate the last mouse," she suggests, her tone light as she, too, tries to inject some humor into the situation. She notices how the yellow furred tom seems to be no better than a cornered hare, ready to make use of his claws should he need to. She pauses in her gait, briefly, if only to smooth some of her fur before speaking again, "I'm sure the incoming leafbare is making some bellies feel emptier."​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

"As empty as his head?" Featherpaw followed on from Cottonpaw, eyes alight with disapproval. What was Flaxshade thinking he would accomplish here- smouldering eyes staring down an apprentice, insinuating he would betray them. Was that not a way to get a cat to betray you, indeed? Driving them out, planting seeds that you didn't trust them. It made no sense, and lit Featherpaw's blood with cold flame. Permafrost prickled in her veins, a trail that sprawled through his entire body as he walked. Sunlight bouncing from ice, his sharp glare found the warrior's face.

Thoughts of respecting elders, bowing to warriors... they had never been the marbled tom's forte. Often his frustration spoke for him, before he could think properly about who had earned it. "Why would he c... c- care about cats he's never met?" The question was pointed, aimed between Flaxshade's eyes. Surely he was making no sense just to get a rise out of Thriftpaw- a pointless waste of time. He would be better off sinking his teeth in some food to bring home.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[Flaxshade]

Observation is the first step of any experiment​

---

His copper eyes like coiled flames on Thriftpaw as he spoke, even going as far as to ask what would take for the apprentice to approve his loyalty to the clan, and shaking his head Flaxshade chuckled a bit, yet before he could even reply more had join them, most coming in defense for the apprentice. "You have no need to prove yourself to me, I was just being... curious" he said smoothly.

"Yet, you seem so easily ready to throw your kin out, how do we know you're truly someone to trust?" he said smoothly, his gaze drifting between those who appeared, a loyalist of Sootstar, the medicine cat apprentice and, another apprentice who spoke words of question that made the tom nod a bit.

"You speak very true, Featherpaw. I should not use Thriftpaw's kin against him. I am sorry little Thriftpaw." keeping his true intentions underwraps before he was chewed through by an apprentice and more. Yet, his gaze trained back onto the form of the ready to flee apprentice. "I must ask, what are your thoughts on our dear pals, Starclan?" words that spark huge controversy within the clan, and perhaps would ruffle a few in the crowd here.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[Thriftfeather]

It's a surprise to Thriftpaw that his clanmates come to his defense. Thriftpaw hadn't expected anything like that—vaguely wonders if they would do the same had it been Ghostwail speaking to him—and then concludes that she's too smart to start her lecture just outside of camp. He looks between the gathered cats, and once more comes to a conclusion: it isn't that they are defending Thriftpaw, but tearing down Flaxshade.

"It's alright," Thriftpaw says soothingly. He's uncomfortable and half bristled, but worse has been said to him before. He doesn't know where Flaxshade has gotten the idea that he never met his family, but Featherpaw repeats the notion and Thriftpaw fears that he is in too deep to correct either of them.

Had he not been off-centered, Thriftpaw may have seen Flaxshade's changes in topic as what they were: a dog barking down every rabbit hole it passed, hoping one of them would have something interesting inside. Instead he reels to try and keep up—StarClan?—and feels the familiarity of a test settle over his shoulders.

Thriftpaw glances indiscreetly upwards, as if expecting to see the stars now in the too-blue sky, and then back to Flaxshade, "It's ours now—it's ours now, isn't it?" He lifts his chin without the confidence to give meaning to the motion, "StarClan, I mean. WindClan owns highstones now." Because Thriftpaw knows what a test is for; he's experienced plenty of them, "But I'm no medicine cat. That's just what I know."

His heart thumps decisively—waiting to know if he's said the correct thing.​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 9 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[MOCKING-GRIN]

The hulking tom has noticed with great interest how Thriftpaw squirms. It's as if he is a worm and they are birds pecking at him. Flaxshade is one of them, so he supposes that Flaxshade is alright in his eyes. However, this line of questioning is too tiresome and Thriftpaw has proved himself already. Mocking-grin has half the nerve to interject as soon as kin is mentioned that sometimes kin betrays one as well. He thinks of his sister Quailbreeze who doesn't agree with his values and tries to change his mind. She has yet proved successful. Featherpaw is intelligent. Why should Thriftpaw care for those he has never met? There's no sense in it. No value. It was a stupid question asked by Flaxshade.

He's frankly had enough. Thriftpaw is good. With that he approaches Flaxshade with a pleasant smile only to bring a big paw and attempt to slap the other across the face. "That's enough badgering." Is this coming to Thriftpaw's defense? Perhaps, but he sees it more so in getting Flaxshade to be quiet. At the very least move onto someone else. If Flaxshade dares hiss at him or show any sign of irritation he would be met with a glare as well as an invitation to fight away from prying eyes.

Then, he turns to the golden tabby tom. "Flaxshade's a moron, don't mind him too much. Anyway, I need you to help me with something Thriftpaw." It's as if Flaxshade is nothing more than dirt on his pelt, shaken off without a care in the word. As for what he wanted Thriftpaw for would be maybe terrifying. The reality is that he had nothing planned and wanted to take the tom around Windclan territory just to mess with him a little and ask if the apprentice would like to spar or something.

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : —
  
• — mocking-grin / windclan moor runner / masculine pronouns / 24 moons
  — heterosexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — high white long haired chocolate smoke with heterochromia
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

​