private You are my sunshine ♫ Howlpaw

[Bugpaw !]

*+:｡.｡ "You were very brave" Bugpaw meows, breaking the sullen silence that weighed the air around the exhausted Thunderclan patrol. There was so much about the Wolf song children that Bugpaw didn't understand...this event didn't change that in the least, but the young woman knew courage when she saw it, even if it had come from whatever dark place the young tom had come from. Walking close to the young apprentice, she looks over his shadowy pelt with a concerned eye. Figfeather had been ruthless in her counter-attack...how a lead warrior could do that was beyond Bugpaw's understanding. "How're you feeling?" she frets, unable to properly tell through his thick pelt if he has any lacerations to worry about.

*+:｡.｡ ♫ Updated 12/28/24

• "Speech"
  
  
• 
  GENERAL:
  ♫ Bugpaw
  ♫ DFAB— She/Her
  ♫ 11 moons
  ♫ Daughter to Flamewhisker and Flycatcher
  ♫ Sibling to Falconheart, Stormfeather, Lilykit, Butterflykit, Ravenpaw, Squirrelpaw, Sunpaw
  ♫ Thunderclan — apprentice
  ♫ Apprenticed to Falconheart
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ♫ Physically medium | mentally hard
  ♫ Attack in bold pink
  injuries: None currently

 

[HOWLPAW]

Howlpaw stiffens at Bugpaw's words, a sharp flick of his ear betraying the surge of irritation they ignite. Brave. He hates the word, the way it wraps around him like a collar, suffocating and foreign. What does she know of bravery? Of the rage that burns so hot it scorches every rational thought, leaving only instinct and fire? He doesn't respond immediately, the tension in his body spreading to his paws as he pushes forward, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. But Bugpaw doesn't stop. Her concern lingers in the air, cloying and persistent, pressing against the rawness he's trying to hide. The softness in her voice grates against the storm churning inside him. How does she not see it? The anger, the failure. The way his claws had faltered just long enough for Figfeather to tear through him like he was nothing.

"I'm fine," Howlpaw snaps, the words harsh and biting. His tail lashes behind him, betraying the lie. He knows she's only trying to help, but her kindness feels like a thorn in his side, digging deeper with every worried glance she casts his way. He doesn't want her concern. He doesn't deserve it. Not when his paws still tremble from the fight, not when his pride lies shattered beneath the weight of his own inadequacy. The patrol trudges on, their silence punctuated by the distant rustle of the forest, but Howlpaw's mind is elsewhere—caught in the memory of Figfeather's strike, the way her claws had raked through him like a storm. Howlpaw finally turns his head to meet Bugpaw's gaze, his yellow eyes sharp and unyielding. "You don't have to do that," he says, his voice quieter but no less harsh. "Act like I need your pity."

The bitterness lingers, even as he looks away, his heart hammering in his chest. Part of him knows he's being cruel, that she doesn't deserve the brunt of his anger. But another part—the part that feels raw and exposed—can't help but push her away.​