Posts by Spottedfern .
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Hiya! I'm open to basically everything besides the bad stuff (torture etc.).
I'd love for her to have some friends and a mentor. A crush would be cute too. Maybe even some enemies. -
Friends with Spottedpaw?
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I would love some art for my new character, Spottedpaw.
Her appearance is in tags.
Preferably a headshot with a transparent background.
I can't pay you anything except my gratefulness (and credit to your art in my signature). -
@AshHeart- Sure thing, I love that idea!
@Goldenkit- Sure! Want me to make the thread? -
Sure, I can make the thread if you like!
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Spottedpaw trotted into camp, her jaws laden with fresh-kill. She was quite proud of how much effort she had put into hunting today. Now, it was time to relax. Tossing her catches on the pile, she bounded over the the apprentices' den, her spotted tail dropping when she realized it was empty. Oh well, time to be bored, she thought grimly and sat a few tail-lengths to the left of the den, dabbing her small paws at a moss ball that must have strayed from the nursery.
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Plumpaw + Spottedpaw thread: https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2461727.new#new
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The apprentice had been 'hunting' (more like being silly and playing in the forest). A shriveled orange leaf fell delicately onto the ground and she whipped around, pupils dilating to the size of a claw scratch, and pounced on it, making a loud cruuunch sound. She shook bits of broken leaf from her paws and trotted on, coming to a halt at the sound of a terrified caterwaul. She ran, her paws barely touching the leaf-laden earth, tail streaming out behind her. She skidded, nearly rolling onto her side as she spotted Nightstar. He definitely hadn't made the sounds, so who had? She faced her leader, tipping her head to one side. "Nightstar? What happened?" she inquired, honestly quite afraid to hear the answer. Sniffing the leaf-fall breeze, she could pick up Mangledheart's fear scent and—she stiffened—Twoleg.
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Spottedpaw darted after a rabbit, her ears flat against her head as she pushed through the wind that buffeted her fur. She skidded to a halt as a wall of thorns stood before her. The rabbit pushed through, losing a bit of fur in the process. Mouse dung! She opened her jaws immediately, expecting this to be the work of BloodClan and—yep, she was right. The thorns reeked of BloodClan. "Those pieces of fox dung," she muttered under her breath. She trotted along the wall until she came across the BloodClan cats. She curled her lip, revealing young, white teeth. Her spotted golden fur bristled indignantly.
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Spottedpaw pounced energetically onto a dry orange leaf, smiling with satisfaction at the sound of it crunching beneath her weight. She was imaging it was a vole, and she had broken its spine with one hit. Spottedpaw liked to imagine things since reality, to her, was quite boring. She searched for things to do in her mind. Halestorm! She would hang out with her big sister. "Halestorm!" she called, rather loudly. She flicked her tail impatiently when her sister didn't reply and surveyed the clearing with her sea-green gaze.
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"Ivypaw! Lakepaw!" The bengal chanted, her pale gaze glittering with joy. She was always happy when kits were made apprentices, because she loved having new denmates, and getting the chance to make new friends. She recalled the day she was apprenticed, only a mere moon ago. If she could have relived that moment, she would have. She remembered the pride that had swollen in her chest, and how great it had felt.
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Spottedpaw felt a sharp pang of sadness like lightining as she approached her sister. Halestorm's poor kits, which would have been her nieces or nephews, were dead. She could never imagine the pain Halestorm was going through. She padded beside her, matching her steps. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, her eyes clouded. She hoped she said the right thing.
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Spottedpaw had always been in ThunderClan. From the day she was born to now, she had always been here. But, it seemed most cats didn't know that she existed yet.
As a kit, at the mere age of four moons old, she was eager to prove herself. Very eager. More than anything in the whole wide world, she wanted to be an apprentice. She decided the best way to do that was to show she could climb the Great Sycamore. She had heard the apprentices talk of it and how they reached the top. She had listened, silently admiring them. So, she slipped out of camp just after the dawn patrol left one dewy morning. It was a struggle even getting out of camp, but that made her even more determined. Once she reached the tree, she waited for the patrol to pass by. When they did, she quickly clawed her way up the bark, getting to the first branch. Even though her heart was beating out of her little chest, she was so proud!
But then, everything went wrong.
She was too busy gazing down at the patrol as they stared at her, bewildered, telling her sternly to get down, and she lost her grip, and she fell. She squeaked in terror and the next thing she knew, she was in the medicine cat's den, covered in poultices and cobwebs. She could remember the sharp, tangy smell of all the herbs. She had broken her hind leg. It took two moons to completely heal, and being stuck away in the medicine cat's den, she never had the opportunity to meet anyone.
Now, it seemed like she had only just joined the Clan.
She lay in the warmth by the apprentices' den, the sun highlighting her spotted golden fur. She hoped someone might decide to join her. Her stomach felt as though it were filled with butterflies, which she guessed were her nerves.
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Spottedpaw had been hunting, and had so far proven to be successful. She had caught a mouse, a vole and a sparrow. Hunting was what she was good at. She had speed, and she had plenty of it. Speed was useful in battle, but not useful enough. All she could do, at the moment, was confuse her opponent by twisting and darting around them as quick as a rabbit.
The sudden coughing and wheezing alerted her. Her fur prickling, she raced towards the sound, her tail twitching with anxiety. She saw Nightstar along with Halestorm and Iceforest. The two she-cats seemed to be worrying over him, and she guessed he was doing all the coughing. "Nightstar?" she mewed, quite bewildered, to say the least. "Are you okay?" Her sea-green gaze glanced at the pheasant and then at her leader. -
"Halestorm! There you are!" she purred blissfully, accepting her sister's nuzzle. "No, no foxes," she mewed hastily, honestly very glad that there were none. She had been told of how they looked—she had never seen one before, but from what she had heard, she imagined they looked a bit like a dog, which she had seen near the river one time.
"I was just so bored! I want to be a warrior like you." She sighed exasperatedly, hunching her shoulders as though the weight of everything she still had to learn was sitting on them. She went warm with embarrassment when she realized how much she sounded like a mewling kit. "What's it like, being a warrior?" she inquired, trying to sound more mature, her eyes glittering with curiosity. She sat down and curled her tail neatly over her paws, her ears pricked. She wanted to know everything. -
Spottedpaw acknowledged Nightstar's arrival with a friendly flick of her ear. "Training has been great! It just seems like there's so much to learn," she replied, her green eyes wide. She honestly questioned whether she was even capable of learning it all. At Nightstar's praise regarding her sister's catch, the apprentice looked at the pile and she realized he was right. She thought it was a huge mouse and was very impressed. Maybe Halestorm would teach her some hunting skills one time? She would ask her later.
