Smallpines

[Fawn]

Diligently, Fawnpaw watched as Lionstorm marked it and nodded to show he understood, but he was undecided on rubbing his body onto trees and underbrush to reinforce the territory line. It seemed... a little messy; however, that slipped from his thoughts as Lionstorm went on to talk about his training.

The approach didn't invigorate him to agree, so he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." Fawnpaw didn't feel the sense of competition or limited time that Lionstorm was referring to, uncertain of why he'd want to rush through his training just so he could be made a warrior before the smaller apprentices. It didn't matter to him, he preferred the learning aspect anyway. The change in subject hadn't been very impressive, so he didn't give Lionstorm more than a minimal reply as they continued forward along the border.

"Do you think we'll have any trouble with ThunderClan?" he asked as he peered over the border at their land, thick with trees. "I don't think they've really done much of anything-- at least I haven't heard anything at the gatherings."

@BILL.

[BEAR.]

"You guess?" Lionstorm questioned, ears flattening as he glanced over his shoulder at him. "You do realize how important this is, right? You can't be an untrained apprentice forever, and we can't keep passing you around like some undesired kit. You need a mentor."

At Fawnpaw's question, he let out a little huff of disinterest. "I'm not convinced these squirrel hoppers check the border, so I doubt we'll have problems with them. Even if they did notice Skinpatch's scent, I don't think they'd confront us over it. Passionstar doesn't have the guts."

Focusing back on what he deemed important, he went on. "You know, Fawnpaw. I'm basically open for an apprentice now that Skinpatch is being punished. It'll be seasons before that one shapes up. I'll take over your training."

@Dipper

[Fawn]

Although he met his gaze steadily, a huffy burst of air expelled from him and his ears flattened at the condescending tone, the implication that he was a drain for existing right now after he'd tried hard to hold his weight around camp while struggling through the trauma of losing his mentor. But no, he was apparently comparable to an undesired kit. The words were biting and left his mood soured completely; of course this would happen, he should have realized that he'd be the next one to be cut down if his apprentice punching bag wasn't here to take the hits.

"She's still your apprentice," he mumbled guarded and distant as he stared through Lionstorm rather than at him. Although frustration and hurt was bubbling under the surface from Lionstorm's callous comments and impersonal approach, he tried to keep it together for the remainder of the patrol. He didn't want to be badly behaved and risk never being allowed out again. "I'm not sure you should train me anyway, but uh... yeah, I guess just assign one whenever." In a better mood, maybe he would've elaborated or even tossed him an ego-stroking bone.

@BILL.

[BEAR.]

Lionstorm didn't understand why Fawnpaw's mood had dropped. He hadn't said anything offensive, he was merely trying to get through to Fawnpaw's thick skull that his training was important. It almost frustrated him, the apparent apathy he held toward learning and advancing through the ranks.

"She's Bubblingbee's apprentice," Lionstorm stated firmly. "At least until she gets her act together. She's caused enough issues so far." Crossing the border was just the tip of an unstable ice berg. "What does that mean?" he demanded, eyes narrowed with hurt when Fawnpaw rejected his proposal.

Okay, so he didn't want him. Fine. "I will. If you don't want me, I know just the cat for you." Fawnpaw would like her, he was sure. They'd both have something in common then.

Turning from the border, Lionstorm started back in the direction of camp. "Come on, we're going home."
@Dipper

[Fawn]

"What? That you shouldn't be my mentor?" he questioned with a glance at Lionstorm. "Look, I wanted to be your apprentice four moons ago when you first offered it." In hindsight, he wished they'd gone through with that, but it hadn't happened when Fallenstar assigned Lionstorm one shortly after that conversation. "But now, I don't know... Don't you think it'd be kind of weird?" Shaking his head, Fawnpaw frowned and let his gaze rest on anything but Lionstorm because he was afraid his voice would quiver if he saw his reaction. "And you also literally just implied I was an undesirable kit. I figured you'd want a better apprentice than that." The comment had hurt, as much as he was trying to repress that for the sake of getting back to camp and having this opportunity extended to him in the future. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when that wish was granted, and they were beginning to return to camp the way they'd came.

"Especially since you've been talking to me as the RiverClan deputy this entire conversation instead of Lionstorm. I get it, training's important-- but it's kind of overlooking that I've been working hard around the camp, and trying to get over..." well, that. They both knew. Fawnpaw had expected more from Lionstorm: more grace and empathy, not his strong suits but he was more than capable of providing regardless of what he claimed. However, Fawnpaw didn't want to fight about it, and already, his throat was tightening as he lowered his gaze to the ground to kick at a tuft of grass. "I guess it doesn't matter."

@BILL.

[BEAR.]

Lionstorm let out an angry little huff. "I thought it'd be fine, but you don't think so." Talking to him was more and more frustrating, why did they need to continue when Fawnpaw already said his stupid piece? "How else am I supposed to get you to listen? The Clan doesn't need an apprentice who just wants to work on dens, we need warriors." At the rate Fawnpaw wanted to go, he'd never become a warrior and everyone else would have died before he even got a new mentor.

He wasn't overlooking anything, he was trying to look at the big picture. "It's time for you to move on. You can grieve and train, Fawnpaw. You're just letting it hold you back." Whether he liked it or not, he was getting a new mentor. After almost two moons, he needed to be kicked into gear. "I'm done with this, Fawnpaw. You already made it clear you don't want to be my apprentice, and that's fine--" not really, but he'd tolerate it. "But you're not getting out of this. When we're back in camp, I'm assigning your new mentor."

@Dipper

[Fawn]

"I'm not sure that's really an option, having two apprentices at once." Fawnpaw wasn't buying that Spiderpaw had been passed off to Bubblingbee and doubted Fallenstar would either, that likely was an idealistic opinion of Lionstorm's that wasn't reflective of reality.

"And I was getting there," he said, snippy this time, "I wanted some time for processing. I was making progress-- like, I actually wanted to be out with you today." He was referencing the hunting excursion that hadn't gone very well. "I wasn't going to fix dens my entire life, and I never said I would." He wrinkled his nose at the thought, dismissing it after - he enjoyed learning but hadn't felt like he'd actually be productive as a training apprentice so soon after losing Leopardshine. "But this-- pretty much everything you've said about it has just made me not want to." Train, that was. Much less be his apprentice.

Fawnpaw wasn't naive enough to think that'd change the course of Lionstorm's plan for him. The only real escape would be to make a dash through the territory in hopes of losing him, but his paws felt like dead weight. He didn't have the energy or motivation, simply hoped he'd choose a suitable mentor that'd be at least more understanding than Lionstorm was willing to be.

@BILL.

[BEAR.]

His patience for him was nearing an all time low. "Yeah, because it's not like I can't handle training you alone while Skinpatch is in camp. It's hardly having two apprentices when one's too dense to grow up and have her punishments lifted." His lip curled upward, tail beginning to lash from his frustrations.

"Getting there?" he questioned darkly. "It's been almost two moons, and all you've wanted to do is be in camp. It's like whenever I try to be out with you, you have this innate need to bring him or what happened up in some way." And he was tired of it. It made him want to be around Fawnpaw less and less, if they couldn't avoid that subject.

"You've had your time to process it, and now you can focus on being a productive member of RiverClan. And no, I don't care about the dens-- the camp's finished with repairs and expansions, and you need to be done with Leopardshine."

Because he was dead and gone, and no amount of grieving, or processing, or thinking about it would change that. And he was tired of how in the past Fawnpaw seemed to be, so held up on an event that was meaningless to him in the long run. He hardly knew him, he hated him, yet it felt like he was using his death as an excuse to get out of training.
@Dipper

[Fawn]

Fawnpaw didn't care for how he spoke of his apprentice despite her poor decisions earlier but didn't speak up on her behalf, too distracted by the rest of the argument that Lionstorm was escalating this into. It left very little room for defending Spiderpaw when he had to focus on his own survival in the midst of Lionstorm's fury. "What? You brought this up, not me," he pointed out. "If you don't want to talk about Leopardshine, it seems kind of logical to avoid talking about someone mentoring me after he's left that vacancy." Prior to this, he'd simply wanted Lionstorm to do his own version of grief processing but hadn't bothered him again afterward when he'd already had regrets of bringing it to his attention.

A full-body quiver shook him as Lionstorm basically demanded that he move on with his life - it was the same thing, talking to him as the deputy rather than... well, the compassionate deputy who happened to know him as a friend. But Fawnpaw couldn't find it in himself to care, he was disappointed as it was. "It wasn't exactly Leopardshine that I was that upset over, but.. I guess that's not really something you'd want to know about." He didn't think he wanted to share, so they could call that one a draw; besides, vague memories suggested they'd been there, done that. Maybe Lionstorm just didn't remember.

"Okay, okay, I will... Just, can you leave me alone about it?" he finally asked, voice cracking. Lionstorm was making this worse, his stern attitude with no room for empathy and although Fawnpaw didn't feel entitled to an experience better than this one, he didn't want to hear any more of it either. It was dragging him back to the fragile mental state that he'd wallowed in for almost two moons, and he winced as he could hear the echo of Lionstorm telling him it'd been that long. Time to get over it.

@BILL.

[ameko]

@lacumaru

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, the hair on Fennelnose's neck bristled in alarm. They frowned at the stranger, standing back up reflexively. How come I didn't smell them coming? they thought. The breeze blew their fur towards the other cat, and with a start Fennelnose realized that the scent was flowing downwind—away from them. Forcing a neutral expression and regaining their composure, the warrior stared at the newcomer. "My name is Fennelnose," they meowed. "I can guarantee that I'm not a threat. You don't have to worry about me picking a fight with you."

Their mouth twitched at the tone of the RiverClan cat's voice, but they pushed back their irritation—if only to be polite to a cat that could offer them assistance. In a softer voice, they said, "You're a RiverClan cat. That's... right, this is the border to RiverClan. Next to ThunderClan." The thought of ThunderClan brought up shame, a burning sense of humiliation that heated their face. They couldn't go back. Their memories were still so fuzzy, so blurred, yet they knew that they were not ready to face ThunderClan. For whatever reason.

"I... I can't go back. That's not an option for me." Fennelnose said, in a louder voice than before. A crestfallen expression dashed across their face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a simple lack of expression. The straightened their mouth in a line—a demonstration of their refusal to elaborate.