someone who cares ; open, being stupid

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  • FANGS 」» It's only mere minutes after Skyclan's battle-ready warriors had left their clan to begin the raid on Bloodclan, and yet Ruddypaw already finds himself pacing back and forth anxiously, his claws pricking at the soft dirt below him with each worried stride. He wouldn't say he's pacing because he's worried about his clanmates, because he honestly isn't—he believes that Skyclan's loyal warriors are fierce, that they will beat Bloodclan without breaking a sweat. And yet, despite being convinced that they'll all be perfectly fine, he still paces. And that's not because he's secretly scared that his clanmates will get injured, or even killed. He paces because he wants to be there with them, sinking his teeth and claws into fur and skin where they belong. He isn't a bloodthirsty cat, of course—it's just that he's always itched for a battle for the majority of his relatively short life. His mother had always pushed him away from his siblings when they were young. Warriors had pulled him away when he'd tried to begin play fights with the other kittens in the nursery. And only recently he had finally had his first spar with Charcoalpaw, but he's well aware that he was only allowed to fight a clanmate because of the war with Bloodclan on the horizon—he has no soft paws to speak of like the other cats, no ability to hold back against those he loves. And so he's antsy. He just desperately wants to beat something—or someone, namely a filthy Bloodclanner—up. And that's kind of sadistic of him, but the apprentice hardly bothers to realize this as he paces through camp, searching for something to attack with kitten-like energy and an untamed electricity in his eyes.

    A formidable branch is what finally catches his attention. It hangs, half broken, from one of their many trees, and suddenly Ruddypaw stills in his nervous path. He targets the hanging branch as his chosen enemy, and he then drops into a messy crouch with his chin hovering just above his small paws, sharp yellow eyes wide and his normally slim pupils suddenly blown. There's only a moment of hesitation, of calculation, where he notes the obstacles between he and the branch, no—between he and the Bloodclanner. In Ruddypaw's eyes, Skyclan has now turned into a battlefield. Two apprentices sharing a meal shift into enemies writhing and screeching in the heat of battle. Sticks and rocks become limp bodies and spatters of blood, and empty dens blink with shining, angry eyes. And then suddenly, with explosive speed, the young apprentice tears at his target, startling the cats who were eating from before. Eyes are kept on the branch as he dodges the tall grass and rocks in his way, and he swerves around the two sharing a meal—and then, with one great leap, he smacks directly into his so-called enemy, claws sinking into the first few layers of the bark as he anchors himself in the wood, his teeth quickly gripping the top of the groaning limb to keep himself stable as the branch swings from side to side, having been disturbed into motion.

    His attack had worked, and in Ruddypaw's imagination, the Bloodclanner screams in agony from his attack. He can hear its voice roaring in his ears as he slides down the bark, leaving long gashes that pour dark, sticky blood. He's killing the Bloodclanner, tearing it open for hurting his clan—and then there's a crack that brings Ruddypaw out of his daydream, and his eyes widen when his weight pulls the remaining strands of bark off of the tree. The dying wood could not take his weight in the end, and down he then plummets, the dangling branch taken with him. With a thud and a breathless oof, he then finds himself on the ground, pinned by the very branch that he'd vowed to kill, all in a matter of seconds. He blinks in surprise, and then a sheepish grin appears on his face—he's gathered the attention of a few cats in camp with his stupid stunt. "Uh..." he begins to mumble in a huff, trying to stand to throw the branch off his shoulders in a valiant show of strength. Turns out, he doesn't have that strength. Again he flops to the ground, the branch still firmly resting over his back, and he flexes his claws awkwardly, his shoulders and one of his legs feeling a bit sore. "Little help here?"

    / this is happening while the raid is going on!


    ——— ⋆ OH, WE ALL STILL DIE

  • Mushroompaw couldn't say that he had any reservations about his choice to not join the fight against BloodClan. While he wasn't exactly a pacifist, he also didn't like fighting when he didn't have to and definitely wouldn't be able to land a good hit if under pressure. So he contributed in other ways to make up for it. One of the npc warriors had asked for him to help watch over the nursery while they waited for the others to come back, and he did so gladly; around his paws, a few of the kits flitted back and forth, giggling all the while and asking him about his life before joining. They were just as curious as he had been about SkyClan, and the ginger tom found it incredibly endearing. "... And once, there was this big cat. He was really scary looking. But then he started speaking and I was just like - whoa! Because he was just so nice, y'all, and his stories were so sweet. I mean, he even helped this pregnant cat cross one of the two-leg paths, where the big mean monsters were crossing. It taught me not to judge others by appearance. After all, you ain't in control of what you're born looking like." he told them, jumping out of the way as one of the kits barreled straight for his legs. He lifted a paw to bat at it affectionately, and it squealed, veering to the side clumsily before falling.

    Mushroom was about to say something when a loud thud sounded nearby, and his ears swiveled upright, alert. Was that one of the kits? He poked his head inside of the nursery, but all was quiet, so he hurriedly swept the kits outside into the den just as an early precaution. The apprentice wondered if the others were back or if something else was coming their way. He'd heard of all sorts of nasty creatures that would occasionally wander clan territory. Although it sounded far too small to be one of those gigantic badgers the kits had so enthusiastically informed him of.

    When he investigated further, he found an unfamiliar apprentice wiggling underneath a large branch ... he bounded over, eyes wide. "How'd ya get yourself under there?" he asked. Dumbly, the adolescent would then look upwards, just to make sure something else wouldn't fall on top of him, too. The trees arched above him were entirely still, however, and so he instead moved - like he should of before, probably - and propped his own skinny shoulder underneath the tree limb holding Ruddypaw in an attempt to help. He hoped that the stranger wasn't hurt. With a great push, the feline would then try to budge the branch, but he was just as weak (if not weaker) than the individual before him, so it didn't move much. "Can you push with me?" if the other agreed, Mushroom would then try again, harder this time, the little muscle that he had straining underneath his coat as he shoved at the tree limb.

    ⋆ more than fun, you're the sanctuary ⋆

    roleplayed by cudii; biography

  • "How about a little assistance from little ol' me?" Azurepetal asks with a sparkling smile as she approaches. She, like everyone else in camp, had seen the whole thing, and her eyes glittered with an amusement shared by all. But, of course, there was a gentleness there, a promise that she wouldn't make fun of a kid she thought was actually pretty brave. "You did quite a number on that tree, I'm glad my pelt isn't made of bark" she purrs amicably, setting her paws just right on the branch. Nodding to Mushroompaw, she says, "Ready to push honey? Ready - three, two, one--" Hopefully with Shroom's help, they'd manage to push the log off the poor apprentice. Once complete, Azurepetal would ever so gently grab Ruddypaw's scruff and help pull him to his feet. "Are you alright dear? That twig didn't cut you or anything did it?" she asks, concern glittering in her lake blue eyes, followed by the softest spark of mischief "Revenge can be quite a pain, huh?"


    \ Write your way into their hearts \ TAGS

  • ›› Wheatkit wanted to join the raid. She really, really wanted to. She had begged and prayed and pleaded to at least be taken to watch, but alas, her mother denied her wishes. It was 'too dangerous' or something. Personally, Wheatkit disagreed. The trees were the only dangerous thing Wheatkit could see in the area. Damn things thinking they could get her stuck up there like that. Who did they think they were?

    It seemed Ruddypaw as also having issues with the local flora. As he was still in camp, where was no doubt that Wheatkit's attention was grabbed. Forever bored, any bit of commotion was a blessing to the athletic child, and, almost like a metal to a magnet, Wheatkit was over at the scene of the crime, her small body perked up with curiosity as she approached. So a branch had fallen on him, huh? It was just a stupid branch--why couldn't he push it off himself? Of course, she wasn't really sure how heavy said branch was, but it didn't matter in her young mind. She just found it stupid that he got trapped by a branch, completely letting the fact that she was a SkyClan cat that was afraid of heights. "Are you really so stupid that you let a branch fall on you? Her words, not laced with malice per say, were bluntly interrogative, a light snicker punctuating her voice. "Were you too heavy for the branch or something? Apart from her supportive commentary, Wheatkit offered no help, instead distracting herself pawing at a few of the leaves that had come down with the branch. Maybe she could gather a bunch of these and stick them in Cherrykit's fur? Stuff tended to get stuck in it quite well. How would she do it without getting caught though? So many questions!