[iliri]

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]

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There wasn’t much to further discuss within the meeting since a few apprentice ceremonies took place. She didn’t know a good portion of the kits, except for one in particular that instinctively caught her attention: Poppykit. Or, she should say, Poppypaw. The singular mention of the young kit made her heart twist heavily in her chest. Her father’s death came unnoticed from the poison many moons ago, and yet, Springpaw couldn’t find herself to handle such grief that attacked her right in the very crevices of her soul. Eveningdance was a good clan-mate and a seemingly wonderful father, he didn’t deserve to die the way that he did. The scant amount of herbs that she used didn’t help him survive, and it further made her become more and more entitled to that guilt that swarmed her stomach each passing day. It infected it like the former autumn leaves that hushed whispers to each other as they fell, creating a carpet of forgotten stories beneath ancient oaks. It whirled with an unsettling passion, merely haunted by the shadows of her own worries. Her heart began to echo the anxious rhythm of a hidden unsettling melody.

Her throat grasped as harsh bile clawed restlessly through it, clouding her mind as she felt herself going dazed. Bumblestar’s words felt muted as she named out the apprentices’ new names and mentors. Oh, and very briefly hearing her leader flatly pointing out the obvious hypocrisy that Mudhound was causing within the hectic crowd. Springpaw didn’t pay much attention towards the issue itself, only merely focusing on the dull grass beneath her snow-white paws, her claws pressing deeply into the earth that she felt bits of the disturbed soil prickle beneath her skin. The loud noises of her clan-mates incessant rambling caused restless boiling beneath her skin. Their voices turned into a vile hiss, angrily roaring into the depths of her eardrums and seeping its way into the deepest depths of her heart. Even against the cold gusts of frigid winter air that tugged at her long fur, her body felt irresistibly boiling hot that she swore that her paws were melting beneath herself. Her nostrils flared, taking in the fresh scent of the frosty chill that accumulated the forest itself.

A hot pulse of blood rushed through her ears, instantly making them erect as oriental-shaped ears pointed upwards to listen attentively towards her leader as the cream-and-brown tabby molly continued the meeting with a voice as hard as ice drawing into her tone. Outsiders had apparently been taken into the clan, and Springpaw found herself growing impeccably annoyed with the ill will that a good portion of her clan-mates bore. How many bees that were overstuffed from sweet nectar did they pour into their brains? Had Thunderpaw himself just single-handedly decide it was best to bring outsiders into camp when Bumblestar strictly ordered for there to be no outsiders inside of ThunderClan camp? Ire boiled deep within her belly, her hackles finally bristling as she felt herself resisting the urge to cast the demoted warrior a sharp stare. Springpaw wasn’t known for being malicious towards anyone, but this was just pure idiocy and she knew it. Cats like himself need to learn to not bear as much idiocy in their minds and learn to take responsibility when it’s needed.

Again, the constant narcissism only seemed to be more apparent from the next set of news. Sunglow, whoever that is, apparently wasn’t allowed to go out of camp due to spreading constant threats. Springpaw’s eyes hardened at the news, lightning seeming to flash across her deep blue gaze. How many times did Bumblestar need to go through with this? Were cats really thick in their skulls that they never truly had any idea of how to handle their own personal feelings towards what Bumblestar wanted to do? Bumblestar was trying to remake ThunderClan into a better clan. Not a screwed up, weak clan that always tossed out high ranks like a game of chess. Now, from Sunglow’s idiotic behavior, she was now confined in camp for a whole half-moon… maybe she shouldn’t have made reckless decisions about spreading false rumors.

The whole charade about the regards of Hornets wasn’t something that Springpaw wanted to dive into very much. She never really interacted with any of the former Hornets except once or twice when they had to have a check up within the medicine den. The news about them wasn’t much for the young calico to take in, but it was something to know that cats just like them were being negligent and not taking care of their duties. She didn’t know much of both Redhawk and Mudhound either, but they were decent cats from what she had noticed. Of course, Mudhound was… something with that personality of theirs. It almost seemed like there was nothing easy to predict from them whenever they acted up. And Redhawk… yeah, Springpaw knew nothing about her except for the fact that she was Gentledoe’s sister, or something along the lines of that. That was something that she had learned personally, even if it wasn’t publicly known. Springpaw hoped that the both of them would do nicely for the clan, as new Hornets were desperately needed for the clan for a restart.

Springpaw didn’t want to bother taking in the information about Sunglow having a random sparring match in the middle of the meeting. What the hell? That could’ve easily waited for after the meeting was over for them to start training. Springpaw’s brows furrowing in irritation as her tail briefly lashed out of anger at the pure idiocy some cats decided to bear. Sunglow only just seemed to prove herself more and more as a burden that ThunderClan shouldn’t be carrying. She kept acting more immature than a young kit!

Final announcements arrived, and Springpaw felt her blood run cold. Another battle? More ruthless slaughter and death? RiverClan had been silent as of late, but was more battling worth it? Springpaw kept her lips tightly sealed, another part of her quietly arguing to the naivety that she was surrendering herself to. RiverClan’s silence was a raising alarm, and it was going to seemingly do nothing but keep growing and growing unless someone did something about it. Could this battle change that? Possibly, but Springpaw was no battle strategist. She wasn’t the most experienced fighter, but she knew some skill that would help her from having any chance of… an injury like before. The core memory lurked itself over her shoulders, and she could find herself briefly glancing towards her mentor. What did she think of this? Did she think it was wrong? Who knows, but they needed to prepare.

“Drizzlecloud,” Springpaw murmured, making her way towards her mentor as she quietly spoke to her. “I think… we should… prepare… this may… be a… very bloody… battle… and we know… how those… can be.” Springpaw didn’t want to bother diving deeper into what she was explaining. The thought of caterwauling and battle-cried howling left nothing but an impact in her vast memory. But, even with that trauma tugged over her shoulders like a vice, they needed to prepare for the worst nonetheless.

Omari [ very messy post but pretend that they went to prepare herbs for the battle offscreen haha ]