Cinderpaw
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31/100
9 moons || she/her || ShadowClan Apprentice small black tabby with minimal white markings and 3 legs; amber eyes
ShadowClan seemed… quiet lately. There were things to do and to investigate, of course, not least of which being the murderer in their midst, but none of that was delegated to Cinderpaw herself. So, with nothing better to do (she had plenty better to do - for one thing she could get some training done but… well, most of her attempts to train had fallen short in one way or another. She could also check on the kits, queens and elders, but… there would be time for that later.) For now, she would sit here and try and recall some of the sign language she’d managed to pick up or invent for herself. It wasn’t an efficient way to communicate, but it would have to do.
Quiet indeed. Too quiet, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Emerging from the apprentice's den, the young tom searches the clearing for something to do. Or rather, someone to train with. A warrior would be ideal. But from the looks of it Fenneldrop or Hillstrider didn't seem to be around. Of course not. Blinking slowly at the realization he pads further out into the light of day before settling upon a dark-furred apprentice around his age. Cinderpaw. He knew of her but had never interacted with her. Normally it would be out of character for him to seek out conversation but... From what he knew the molly was similar to himself in a handful of ways. So he approaches, tail flicking behind him nervously as he gathers the gall to speak.
"Good morning, Cinderpaw. If you are not busy I was in search of a training partner."
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" oh the places you'll go, little love of mine "
yarrow sig image by @/Marigoldwhisper !
Rose stopped by to plant a garden here.
Tigerpaw walked over to Cinderaw and the other cat. "Hey sorry to inturupte but uh... would you guys like to train or something with me I have no friends and my mentor stoped mentoring me." She mewed trying to find out weather she should still be an apprentice if her mentor stoped training her. @silver. @Neptune.
Usual routine. Get up, have a stretch, clean up, stretch some more, clean some more... Newtbelly found himself far less bored with an apprentice, still... ShadowClan was continuing to be far too peaceful for his taste. Lick lick lick, clean clean clean, stretch stretch stretch... Mornings were boring no matter what, but they were definitely becoming the most stale part of his routine. Just as he was about to rise to his paws, his ex-mentor's voice echoed throughout the den. Yikes, this early in the morning?! Evidently, the tom never seemed to be plagued by the same social worries as Newtbelly. However, he often noticed that they shared the same solitary nature. Not even Newtbelly knew Owlthroat's reasons. Soon enough, none other than Hawkbite responded. Newtbelly loved a good spar, but fighting one of the enforcers terrified him. He noticed how Owlthroat spoke to him so casually, was he crazy?? It was possible, he thought, a laugh escaping his lips. Attention suddenly on him, the tom realised he had to at least say something - uhhh -- "I wouldn't miss this for the world!" He blurted out, calling to Owlthroat across the den. He often found himself teasing the burly tom, knowing he could just about get away with it. That said, he wasn't too sure how to act around Hawkbite, hopefully his comment hadn't annoyed him...
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch The Dancing Bird
He looked over awaiting a response to see Hawkbite stir in his nest. The Commander, oh heck maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew here. Swallowing the anxiety that swiftly arose like a large clump of moss in his throat. No, he was a very competent fighter; this was something he could manage. His only strength lay on the battlefield he wasn’t going to let that slip away from him because of some silly enforcer title. Owlthroat knew his talent, he would batter this cat then smirk upon his newfound reputation.
”No need to go easy Hawkbite, sparring is for building strength.” Words slipping out gruffly as he gave a nod in his direction and raised his haunches. Leaning down to stretch out his muscles in swift preparation. This would be a challenge for sure, one he now convinced himself he could meet with force and grace. Something to leave his ego beaming after all had been said and done.
”An edge of the clearing work for you?” Already preparing himself mentally to get out of the stuffy den and breath some adrenaline filled air. The kind which swirled around when paws and claws started to fly, he had a few new moves he wanted to try. Perhaps not the most respectable, but moves which would surely catch Hawkbite off guard.
He found a smile began to creep over his blacked lips.
Hawkbite answered that question with action, getting to his paws and padding out of the Warriors' Den and towards one of the corners of the camp. He stood below one of the large trees and waited for Owlthroat to catch up. It sounded like Newtbelly was going to watch, which Hawkbite didn't mind. He wasn't going to wait up on a bystander though. Newtbelly either kept up or missed the spar completely.
"You asked, so you start," Hawkbite spoke simply when Owlthroat would eventually catch up. The Commander dropped into a battle crouch, flexing his claws into the soil and rolling his shoulders in preparation for the amount of movement he'd be doing. He didn't know Owlthroat's battle strategy -- if this warrior preferred fighting with brute strength or not -- but the Commander would have to learn quickly. Most of the clan knew Hawkbite fought with speed and stealth tactics, but did this warrior know?
Quiet indeed. Too quiet, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Emerging from the apprentice's den, the young tom searches the clearing for something to do. Or rather, someone to train with. A warrior would be ideal. But from the looks of it Fenneldrop or Hillstrider didn't seem to be around. Of course not. Blinking slowly at the realization he pads further out into the light of day before settling upon a dark-furred apprentice around his age. Cinderpaw. He knew of her but had never interacted with her. Normally it would be out of character for him to seek out conversation but... From what he knew the molly was similar to himself in a handful of ways. So he approaches, tail flicking behind him nervously as he gathers the gall to speak.
"Good morning, Cinderpaw. If you are not busy I was in search of a training partner."
Quote:
Originally Posted by ---Bluestar---
Tigerpaw walked over to Cinderaw and the other cat. "Hey sorry to inturupte but uh... would you guys like to train or something with me I have no friends and my mentor stoped mentoring me." She mewed trying to find out weather she should still be an apprentice if her mentor stoped training her. @silver. @Neptune.
Cinderpaw
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33/100
9 moons || she/her || ShadowClan Apprentice small black tabby with minimal white markings and 3 legs; amber eyes
It isn’t long before her silent practice session is interrupted, though surprisingly Cinderpaw finds that she’s not all that upset about it. The one who approached her she remembers as Bitternpaw - he was made an apprentice around the same time she and her littermates were, though she’d never made much if an effort to really get to know him. Actually, she’d never made an effort to really get to know anyone. Maybe this was her chance? Friends don’t grow on trees, after all, and the only cats she thinks of as friends right now are Wispypaw (her own sister) and Flashpaw.
”What kind of training?” The tabby signs with her paws, head tilted to the side to indicate a question and not a statement. Before the silver cat can respond, however, another apprentice invites herself to the conversation. This cat Cinder doesn’t know the name of, but as she starts complaining about her lack of training - or, more specifically, her mentor’s lack of initiative - Cinderpaw has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. ”If your mentor won’t train you you can always ask the enforcers for help. Or you can go to grandma and she’ll reassign you,” she signs, trying to be polite despite the mildly annoying complaints.
Cinderpaw knows all about mentors not taking initiative, she doesn’t even have a mentor right now, but she’s still trying… at least a little bit, anyway. It’s frustrating having to go ask for training on her own, but such is the perils, she supposes.
Tigerpaw looked shocked at what the other cat said. Cinderpaw might have been polite but her face clearly showed she did not like Tigerpaws presence. " Oh.... uh.. sorry for bothering you." She mewed. She knew other cats didn't like her. But none had talked to her do she was grateful that she was noticed. But then she remembered something. " Do you not want me around because of my mouth?" she said remembering most cats were scared of her torn-up mouth. @Neptune.
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 39 moons Beefed Up T1 - Just A Scratch The Dancing Bird
Owlthroat trailed after Hawkbite as he swiftly exited the warrior’s den. He was pleasantly surprised by his old apprentice's enthusiasm to watch the show. He didn’t quite know yet how this would go, he was a proficient fighter yes but this was the commander he was up against.
His saunter full of pride, his towering frame beginning to ripple with anticipation. Time to show what he was worth, who he really was. His ode The Dancing Bird, a title he boastfully earnt. An innate talent for claws and blood.
He let a quick nod slip in Newtbelly’s direction before he turned his attention to Hawkbite’s words. An invitation to start. ”Very well”, almost like a mirror he flexed his own black jagged talons. Bowing his legs down, there were some new moves he wanted to try but he had to start slow. Warm up to the game ahead, but pick something which would instantly give a strong advantage in the match. Ideas forming at lightspeed in his twisted mind, he wasn’t one for speed nor stealth. His bulky frame simply wouldn’t allow for it, but it wasn’t exactly pure brute force either. Something seemed to grace him in battle, it all became blurry.
Without a second more to think he flung himself forward with a conniving grin.
Aiming his broad skull directly at Hawkbite’s own, he should see stars.
Re: ShadowClan Clearing
