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Old February 6th, 2024, 11:54 AM
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iliri iliri is offline
rainbow dash is best horse
 
Join Date: Oct 2020
Status: scheming
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Default Re: Forging Strength in the Chaos


Springpaw
long-furred, oriental-shaped, gray-and-orange calico molly with blue eyes; torn right ear
purrks: herbal knowledge - tier 2 | the collector | mind reader | skip the steps[all perm. active; sts for battle training]


Exhaustion had been overcoming itself over her like a vice. Her eyes had grown sunken and fatigue was claiming its way through her system. The vastness of the growing weariness that made it nearly impossible to ignore. She hadn’t been certain if it was due to the recent tensions uprising or the cold finally taking advantage of her. The recent political tensions had made her grow immensely cautious towards any upbringings of bloodshed that could occur at any second. Ears erect and eyes peered, silence engulfed the young medic as she kept watch over her precious, scant herbs. Springpaw couldn’t place her tongue for why she had been so prolonged with the labor of the task of watching the herbs, but her inner consciousness unfolded to only tell her that it was desirable; that it was important. These herbs were fragile like a newborn kit, and one fatal move could easily tarnish the entire storage. That wasn’t something that Springpaw wanted to happen anytime soon, especially with the upbringing of war looming over ThunderClan’s shoulders.

A voice broke through her futile thoughts, yet Springpaw’s eyes had already been narrowed, breaking her eyes away from the storage to make contact with the figure standing at the mouth of the tree-like den. The voice clicked at a specific part of her brain, raising her adrenaline as her sunken eyes blinked incessantly to adjust towards the dim lighting of the den that spilled itself among the coarse ground of the soil. The long shadows from her visitor spilled themselves among the rigid walls of the den as her almond-shaped hues adjusted themselves accordingly to take in the appearance of her visitor. Lioncrest. Her stomach whirled, feeling queasy and Springpaw felt the unbridled urge to curse away the impending anxiety that crept itself up her throat and hung itself by a thread. She couldn’t configure why she was feeling this way, but she suspected that it was because she hadn’t bothered to give herself a proper rest due to the recent incidents that occurred a few sunrises ago. Her greeting faltered, the words pitifully falling back down her windpipe as her stiffened limbs complained while she stood from her sitting position. Her head spun as she felt light on her paws, taking a brief breather to gather her composure before focusing intently on the tom-cat that entered the den.

“Lioncrest,” Springpaw called back, brilliant, lapis blue orbs landing on a glassy shade of amber. It had been a particularly long while since she had spoken face-to-face with the golden-furred feline. The most that she knew was that he was the mate of her adopted mother and the father to her new-found siblings. A pit in her stomach wasn’t sure what to make of him, but another side felt swarmed with jealousy and misunderstanding for the fact that Dovefluff never truly seemed to be around anymore. It felt selfish of her to think in such a way, but she couldn’t necessarily blame her mother for raising a new litter of kits. She never had a true chance to interact with the molly after she had her kits, but it was something that she would need to consider after not being around her for a good while.

Curiosity unfolded, revealing a slight shade of unnecessary suspicion as the oriental-shaped feline listened to Lioncrest’s offer, blue hues shining thoughtfully. Of all cats, she never truly suspected him of offering her the chance to patrol around the territory. It wasn’t relatively often that cats were the ones who asked her to accompany them, relatively with it being quite the opposite with her sending out patrols. Her nostrils exhaled, a whiff of frost dancing around her bright pink nose as her brain churned restlessly to provide a reasonable answer. A part of her wanted to go, another wanted to shield away in the darkness of the den. To be provided in the quiet, stillness of the tenebrosity that kept her sheltered from the horrors that shaped themselves. But, her heart yearned for an escape; an escape from this trapped contraption and wander through the snow-crested woods. To hear the sound of soft crunching beneath her paws as she padded away through its powdery, white atmosphere. Her eyes fluttered, a short wave of tiredness clasping over her weaving consciousness like a vice. Sleep had been troubling, but that wasn’t her main focus. The current situation that was unfolding in front of her was that the tom-cat needed an answer from the young healer.

“I’ll come… along... I need… to clear… my head... from everything.” Her words were slow, her nose taking in the golden tom-cat’s scent against the heavy stench of herbal remedies and frigid, cold air. With her answer finally out in the open, the calico steadily trudged her way toward the waiting feline, her eyes focusing merrily on his as she carefully studied him for a brief moment. What was his intentions? What had he acquired her of all cats for? She was no skilled hunter, even if she knew the very basics of it. Hell, she wasn't a skilled fighter either, for in any troubles they wind up in around their patrol, she may be better off ditched in a hole instead. Herbal knowledge wouldn't come in handy for any possible ruthless bloodshed in battle.

@Jayvines [ can’t wait! ]
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“No disrespect, ma'am, but there's a big difference between pushing yourself as hard as you can and just being reckless. And if being reckless is what gets rewarded around here, if that's what it means to be a Wonderbolt, then I don't want any part of it.”

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its so lonely here wheres the graffiti

Last edited by iliri; February 6th, 2024 at 02:58 PM.
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