GLOOMCLAN | roleplay

^{NICE WORK YOU DID, YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR KID —}

^{With a deep growl, the large brown tabby would pad up to brackenpaw, eyes cold. "Brackenpaw..." Though his tone was warning, as he saw the seemingly hungry tom sit down, he'd pause. "Would you like to go hunting?This pile clearly needs to be restocked." His voice was still cold, but there was no anger or venom in his words by now.}

^{Interacting With; Brackenpaw}

^"Speech."

— BRACKENPAW. | INT. DOGTOOTH

So it was just as he'd guessed. Even with things so busy as they were, there was always someone watching, and the growl rumbling in Dogtooth's throat certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by him. Frustration writhes beneath his pelt as narrow eyes flick to the approaching warrior, muscles going noticeably tense beneath his bristling fur. He hadn't even done anything yet. Did his already awful morning really have to start with needless reprimanding from this gigantic beast of a cat? Luckily, it seems his reluctance to take anything from the pile had been noticed by Dogtooth before Brackenpaw could say anything he shouldn't have.

The edges of his lips twitch, threatening to curl back into a snarl at the question, but he finds he simply doesn't have the energy to argue just yet— much less deal with the repercussions of doing so, were there any to be had. He thinks he'd rather roll in a pile of fox-dung than go hunting with Dogtooth, but the moment he'd been asked, he knew he didn't have a choice. He wasn't stupid enough to risk disobeying what he's certain is an indirect order.

"Sure." He couldn't possibly sound any less enthusiastic, looking ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble from the fellow tom even still. Dogtooth likely hasn't done him any real wrong, certainly nothing to warrant such behavior from Brackenpaw, but the apprentice was indisputably intimidated by him nonetheless; that helpless feeling came through as anger and disgust, tainting his vision of the other like it did with the majority of his so-called 'clanmates'. There was no use in thinking it on it too hard, though. Instead, he dips into a long stretch, attempting to shake his fur free of any stray debris he'd carried over from his den. "It's better than becoming part of the pile, I guess... When are we going?" The question doesn't do much to overshadow the implication of that statement he'd just mumbled under his breath. Clearly, he doesn't exactly trust these cats not to turn savage in the event of a prey shortage... or maybe he just wanted to see if the assumption would get under the warrior's skin.

^{NICE WORK YOU DID, YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR KID —}

^{Thinking for a moment, he'd let out a small hum. "There's usually plenty of birds and mice by the far end of the river... lots of acorns and such for them. There should be enough to hunt and still eat ourselves." He'd say in a quiet yet thoughtful voice. Flicking his tail, he'd nod towards the entrance of camp, padding forwards. "Lets go."}

^{Interacting With; Brackenpaw}

^"Speech."

^{Dogtooth | Asexual Male | 18 months | warrior}

^{huge brown tabby with scar on lip and brown-grey eyes}

^{observant, logical, cold, loyal, insecure, strong-willed, ambitious}

Why was it that every cat in GloomClan seemed to be either violently cruel or idealistic to the point of danger? Carawayshade found himself vaguely daunted by the striking contrast of character in a single clan, but the young tom-cat kept his thoughts private. He couldn't claim to be particularly attached to any particular individual in the haggard clan that oftentimes seemed to be hanging together by a thread, but admittedly the blue golden tabby was a pragmatic. It was better to be in GloomClan's ranks than to be living on the outskirts, subject to violence by the GlommClanners themselves, rogues, humans, predators, or illness.

But perhaps if he could acquaint himself more meaningfully with his new clanmates, the surface impression would give way to an animal more relatable. After all, Carawayshade had never truly known another cat aside from his mother, growing up. To suddenly find himself living in such a large clan shortly after her death was a dramatic transition, but Carawayshade considered himself adept at adapting. He didn't truly have a choice, either way.

His hazel eyes scanning the campgrounds, eventually fixating themselves on Blossomleaf, Adderpaw, Shadefrost. They seemed more approachable, even despite their group size. Shaking his broad shoulders, his thinly striped fur taking on a thicker quality, the young warrior trotted over to the trio. "Morning," he offered a polite twitch of the mouth, a shade of a half-smile. "You guys look cheerful. What's up?" Carawayshade had heard mention of the word "deputy" as he approached them. Why, it seemed that nearly half of the warriors force had their eye on the coveted position - and they all happened to be the most dogmatic and brutal of the bunch. He wouldn't be surprised if violence broke out over it at some point. Infighting didn't seem like a stretch for a clan like GloomClan.

— BRACKENPAW. | INT. DOGTOOTH

He doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that his jab had gone unnoticed (or unacknowledged, at least), but quickly decides it's not worth getting himself worked up over. He was much more fixated on the idea of doing just what Dogtooth had said— catching enough to be able able to fix up the pile and eat, though it was obviously the latter of the two that gave him the most drive. He wasn't exactly as confident as the warrior was that they'd find everything they were looking for, but he certainly wasn't going to argue about the likelihood of it. He wanted to eat, didn't he?

"Whatever you say." He mutters, tail twitching impatiently as he follows the tom to the camp entrance. The fur on the back of his neck prickles uneasily as they walk, the tom looking just a bit unsettled as he recalls where they would be hunting. "So... we aren't gonna be hunting really close to the shore, are we?" Is all he says, clearly not keen on elaborating further than that. He wasn't going to admit he was scared of the river in a million years, not to Dogtooth and certainly not to himself.

^{NICE WORK YOU DID, YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR KID —}

^{Dogtooth paused. "No. We don't need to hunt to close, we'll stick beneath the trees." He'd meow. Hearing others talk about hunting as well, he'd roll his eyes at how unorganized they seemed. Softening his demeanor only slightly; he'd nod to Brackenpaw "Would you like to lead the way, Brackenpaw?."}

^{Interacting with; Brackenpaw}

^"Speech."

^{look a little closer in those delicate eyes;}

^{her hearts a wild creature and her souls on fire —}

^{Emberpaw would yawn, stretching out lazily in the sunlight. She was rather interested in everyone's morning chit-chat; as she was still out of place. After all, she'd only joined about a week or so ago, and she still didn't see the point of trying to care for any of her new 'clanmates'. Rolling her ice blue eyes she'd stretch out on her back, exposing her belly to the sunlight, but kept a wary ear out in case someone tried anything.}

^"Speech."

— BRACKENPAW. | INT. DOGTOOTH

Brackenpaw might curse himself for going stiff at Dogtooth's nod, annoyed with himself for being startled by such a subtle movement, but he's much too preoccupied with being relieved that they wouldn't be venturing too close to the river. He's content to do this quietly with no plans to say another word about it, tail twitching briefly in irritation at himself for making such a stupid mistake. Asking such a question would obviously hint at his discomfort, and he doesn't like the idea of anyone knowing what anything makes him feel. In his eyes, it was the same as exposing his vulnerable underbelly to a predator hellbent on tearing into him: foolishly exposing his weakness with an unguarded tongue. That was a mistake he wasn't planning to make again, if he could help it.

"Lead?" The way he presents it suggests that it isn't as much of a real question than it is the tom asking for clarification. He figures Dogtooth must not want to be heading back anytime soon if he's willing to trust him to lead the way. He doesn't dare let himself think the warrior's offer is genuine, for as far as he's concerned, he's given him no reason to have any faith in his capabilities... but now, despite how little he seems to care about the opinions of anyone but himself, he's almost tempted to actually apply himself and show Dogtooth what he could really do. To earn his respect that way would gain him nothing but his own self-satisfaction, he knows this, but isn't that all he has left to drag his paws forward for? And it would feel good to have someone so big and important follow behind him as if he were the one in charge for once. His ego, writhing and driven mad with hunger, was clutching at any scraps of a boost it could get— and with just a moment spent pondering over it, he's thoroughly convinced himself to take the job.

Gaze flicking to the larger tom, he stands up a bit straighter, all senses climbing to their prior high-alert states as he takes position in front. It's not quite as gratifying as he imagined it would be, but it was something, at least. "I guess so. Just don't try anything funny back there," He pauses, opening his mouth a little to drink in the many scents the morning had to offer. "and step lighter. I think I can smell something nearby."

— CEDARSTRIKE. | INT. STAGLEAP

He still has yet to rise from his nest, but upon hearing the distinct rustling nearby of another, he doesn't mind shaking off the swarm of thoughts he'd been content to doze under until now. His ears angle back, capturing the sounds more clearly until he manages to pull his head up from the warmth of his paws to look them in the face; it takes him a moment or two to pinpoint it when he realizes just who it is he's looking at, however. Ah, Stagleap. Once upon a time, he might've been intimidated by his size, but not much scared him these days now that he's settled peacefully into the clutches of fate. Life was so much easier when you were convinced it isn't yours to live in the first place.

"Beautiful morning, no?" He asks, hardly sparing the fellow tom a glance, but a flick of his tail acts as the indicator that he was talking to someone other than himself. "Nothing like four helpings of noisy gossip to get you in a good mood. Ah, I miss being woken up by birds..." He dips into a hasty stretch, not daring set paw outside the den just yet. He feels like that would be a commitment to staying outside for however long he must, and he's not quite ready to make it yet. "If you're heading out, be careful." He meows, amusement in his voice thick like deceitful honey. "I won't say names, but some of us seem a bit more grouchy today than others."