Posts by STORMPAW !

    Ears perked at the loud call of the kit, and Stormpaw soon followed to voice to the scene. This will be amazing, she mused, small smile gracing her face at the child calling out for weekly tasks. She was never much one for weekly tasks, but something as (and she would never admit to thinking this) adorable as this, she wouldn't pass up. "I'll take a weekly task, Cavykit."


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    "It's also rude to accuse of kitnapping," Stormpaw pointed out, no aggression in her tone (no matter how much it may appear so, she wasn't about to have a full arguement with a child), "I guess we're all just getting off on the wrong paw." The silver apprentice couldn't help but let out a small laugh after the statement. When taking a step back, this was kind of hilarious. A small kit running through the territory of feral cats claiming to tear their fur off their backs if they hurt her friend. Brave, really. And with the context that Cavy was perfectly fine, funny.


    Picturing Marie and Cavy together, friends, was another hilarity. Man, they must create chaos when together. Or maybe they cancel each other out. Guess she'd see soon enough. "Hm. Feral or not, your friend is fine," she reassured the kit once more, though it seemed to fall on deaf ears, "but since anyone can lie, we should get to finding her, shouldn't we?"


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    And with that, Stormpaw had two moons off of unsavory apprentice duties. She gave a quick glance to the apprentices she had placed bets with, gloating in her smirks to them, and returned her gaze to Juniperthorn. It was as she expected. He would make an excellent deputy, and perhaps, one day, an excellent leader. Lavenderstar would be proud, ecstatic, over the choice. And that thought alone, the thought that maybe her mother would be overjoyed at the news of Juniperthorn becoming deputy of her clan, was enough to put any doubts of the new leadership on the backburner. For a while, if only a brief moment, she was rid of the pain. Though she hadn't the energy to join in the usual chants, she'd call out, "Congrats Juniperthorn!"


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    Stormpaw had, of course, been listening in from the distance. She didn't feel the need to sneak about, there was no danger here nor need for information, she was just curious of how this interaction would go down. A small feline, similarly bounding into the territory like Cavy, but with much more vengeance and determination behind her eyes... It was interesting! So green eyes watched, and tall ears listened, simply observing. It wasn't until Milkpaw began to take her to camp that she stepped in.


    "Marie," she chirped, bounding to the young cat, "my name's Stormpaw." Introductions first, as always. Even when one came into your home calling you and all your friends "feral"... niceties were needed. A quick smile flashed across her face before fading back into her stoic face, tail whipping quickly in a dismissive manner.


    "We're not feral, so you know," Stormpaw announced, tone more akin to the scolding of a mother than a tone of anger, "and Cavy seems to be enjoying it here, in fact it was her who asked to join our clan. Our clan of big, bad feral cats. We'd never hurt a kit, you don't need to worry." She then turned, facing Milkpaw, to continue to journey to prove Cavy's safety.


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    "Good question," Stormpaw responded, though faded off before she could actually answer the kittypet's question of Starclan. Though new in her training, she had grown sensitive to the smells of other cats, stranger cats, cats who had no Skyclan blood in their veins. This twoleg stench was one of the most recognizable. Though, the silver feline never felt hatred for them. They had a life of luxury, and should they choose to stay in said life, good on them. But those who chose to venture into the forest, to become immersed in the world of the clans... to see the struggle that clan cats went through and still choose not to return to the homes of daily full stomachs and lounging in the sun... it was valiant, wasn't it?


    "It won't be so easy as your life in the twoleg place," she hummed, "but if you're really up for it, I don't see why we shouldn't let you try and prove yourself." A flick of her tail and a nod of approval, she turned to the others. At seven moons, she didn't really have the authority to grant entry to a strange cat, but her comments still had weight as much as any other. "If we all agree, I'd be happy to show you around," green eyes scanned the other Skyclanners who had gathered for similar approval.

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    With a deep breath in and a deeper breath out, the silver feline would approach the meeting spot on graceful paws. Though soft in step as they may be, it was clear the walk was heavy, and if she had cared any less about appearances or held herself to lower standards, her walk would have been lumbering and clumsy. But, to anyone who could not tell her inner feeling, Stormpaw appeared as put-together and clean as she normally would. Spindly legs carried her with a facade of ease, and as she sat, a long tail wrapped itself around her paws.


    Another breath, and Stormpaw would groom her chest fur down smooth, with gentle licks. This was the meeting where the ranks were officially changed. Of course, the moment Lavenderstar had passed on, and Heronstar had received her nine lives, the ranks had shifted. But this meeting, where the new deputy would be announced, and the new leader would be recognized among the clan for the first moment, this was where it all changed. Words to describe her emotions escaped her.


    Stormpaw couldn't claim to feel no anticipation. She had her guesses on who the next deputy would be, and, entirely despite herself, she had made some bets with her fellow apprentices. Her and some NPCs had determined that if their pick was to become deputy, they'd be free of picking tics of the elders for two moons. A great deal. Stormpaw loathed tics. And her guess was pretty good. The silver apprentice figured it wasn't just the prospect of less lowly work that made her skin crawl with anticipation. It was fun, wasn't it? Even though something so awful had to happen to get them to this point, there was a hum of excitement among the clan.

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    This... this was utterly cruel.


    Apparently it was Lavenderstar herself who had sent this message, this insult to injury. So was that the goal that Starclan had when they ripped her mother away from the living? When they stole her? The heavens had stolen Lavenderstar to use her for their messages. To do something to vile, that it could make one question the clan of ghosts' intentions... just to get her to believe a little bit more? Stormpaw believed, all right. She followed to rules, as did her mother. And this was all that belief got them. It was vile. Starclan were not saviors for this. If anything, they had become the enemy.


    And to see her clan mates, who only moments ago had been mourning the loss of such a beautiful soul, eager to please the very ones who ripped her away! Fools, all of them. How they could be so blind to the cruelty of such a message was beyond her. She respected her ancestors, those who had paved the way for her to be right where she was, but this twist of fate was so grisly that her soul told her to follow the exact opposite of what this message from the stars attempted to garner.


    Stormpaw would not grow to be a rebel with a cause, she would not bend these ancient rules set down by the clan of their ancestors until they were thread bare. She would simply not be doing things for them. The silver feline resigned herself to this- she would do good, she would do what she found to be right, make choices for the good of those yet living. Never, however, would she follow these rules just because some wicked ghosts said she must. Not after this. And if Starclan were so self-aggrandizing that they would punish that, punish those doing good if only they didn't praise their name in the process, then they were not a heavenly body Stormpaw even wanted the blessings of.


    The apprentice would not approach the appointed prophet, and she would not utter a word in response. Instead, the child would sit in the background to here the words and responses others had to offer, but only for a brief moment before she rose to her paws, no expression visible on her face, and walked directly out of camp into the surrounding woods.


    /ic opinions of course stormy is just bitter and grieving lol

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    The trip to the moonstone, though Stormpaw had spent the entirety at camp, was rough for the apprentice. The idea that her mother was truly gone, that her rank was to be passed to the next, and perhaps would even be one of the Starclan cats to give the new leader a life. But she truly did expect Heronswo- Heronstar to be a good leader, and valiant one that Lavenderstar would've been proud to see. And she couldn't help but give a sigh of relief upon seeing the pair return.


    Walking out of the apprentice's den, the silver feline approached the new leader and the clan cats surrounding her. "Welcome home," she dipped her head in respect, "Heronstar." All that remained, truly, was the appointment of a new deputy, and Skyclan would be back to business as usual. Perhaps with a few weeks of adjustment, of course. But life moved on, didn't it?

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    Stormpaw watched the scene in silence, long silver tail wavering low above the ground. She was happy for Heronswoop, soon to be Heronstar and would no doubt follow loyally under her lead. But she did not relish in seeing her leave to receive her lives- it felt a cruel reminder of her mother's fate. Those nine lives had not done her much good. The apprentice could only wish they would do Heronswoop better, that their new leader would live a life not cut short by some sort of messed up fate.


    A deep breath in, she lifted a paw, a deep breath out, she stepped it forward. Step by step she approached the group, once delicate paws now lumbering with begrudge over the movement. "Safe travels," she muttered, lowering her head in respect for the soon-to-be-leader.

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    Stormpaw had been more than aware of her mother's state. The minute Lavenderstar had retreated to the medicine den for the first time, Stormpaw was lurking outside waiting for her moment to ask the cat tending to her anything and everything she could. Maybe it was a little much, but she couldn't help it. This was her mom, she couldn't not worry. But she wouldn't say anything to her mother about it, it was shown in small help. The silver apprentice would bring a snack now and then, her own caught fresh-kill, deliver herbs without word... Simple tasks under the guise of simply being kind, not of endless worry and need to ease the pain Lavenderstar was clearly in.


    So when Stormpaw was out in the woods, a lone walk to clear her mind and caught wind of the commotion at camp, it was no surprise when her heart started racing, and body heated up with a pang of hurt and fear. Paws, a painfully long distance from camp, jolted in the direction of home. The mad dash was most likely only a few minutes, but by Starclan it felt like five hours and five seconds and three moons and two breathes all in once. She was sure by the time she burst through the camp entrance, her paw pads with cracked by the force of rocks against them and legs whipped by branches Stormpaw had forced her way through.


    Eyes scanned the scene, whipping back and forth, before landing on Cherrypaw. And Jupiterthorn. And Suntalon. And Heronswoop. And everyone. Everyone was surrounding something. Or someone. And Stormpaw knew who it was. And what was happening. But she wished to all the powers in the stars above that she hadn't, that she was wrong, that something else was causing the tears her ears suddenly heard and the hushed whispers of her gathered family and friends. Maybe a miracle had happened. Maybe it was happy tears. But she knew it wasn't.


    All of the speed she had rushed home with had suddenly dissipated, nearly falling to her face as she entered camp. She only barely caught herself, paws stumbling below herself, and carrying that momentum forward to push through the group. The sight she had pushed out of her mind consistently since the first moment her mother stepped a paw into the medicine den was there, in front of the girl, real, so very, very real. The last breathe had already been put into the air, carrying with it, her mother, to Starclan.


    And she missed it.


    She couldn't tell if she was happy or sad.


    Or both. Or neither. Or something entirely different.


    She missed it. She hadn't have to witness her mother's final moments. But she hadn't gotten to say her final goodbyes.


    And now her mother was gone.


    No sobs left the girl, no tears, no noise or change in facial expression whatsoever. She simply fell. Paws collapsing under her sudden weight, the sudden force of gravity she couldn't escape, and her jaw just barely missed the ground. Stormpaw never wanted to get up. Not now. Not after this.

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    Stormkit scurried out of the nursery with reckless abandon at her mother's meeting call. The whole meeting, the silver child would be bouncing in place with anticipation. Word had reached her and her siblings ears of what was to come this meeting, of the final arrival of what she'd been waiting for for six whole moons. She barely even comprehended the news that Lavenderstar was sharing, the anxiousness for her name to be called was too heavy.


    A small congrats was sent to Juniperthorn's way, condolences to those demoted, and then... and then... her name!


    The silver kit- apprentice- stood taller, back immediately straightened at the call. Bounding forward to meet her siblings and the mentors that had gathered, she'd show off a brilliant smile, and touch noses to her appointed mentor. At the touch, a rush of energy burst through her and Stormk- Stormpaw- couldn't help but let out a bounce and a small mew of thrill.

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    Stormpaw would've liked to have said that since her apprentice ceremony, her love for kit-like games decreased. But unfortunately, what she would've liked to have said wasn't quite the truth. And the sound of a round or two of mossball, silver ears perked up, head following suite with a fast turn to the source. The apprentice had only just reached her new rank, barely six moons into her life... her tendencies as a kit still made up the majority of her being. And wanting to beat everyone at mossball was not a habit easily kicked.


    Feeling despite herself, her paws carried her over to the gathering group, slowing herself down as to not appear over-excited. Head held high she spoke, "I'll join. I'm the best at mossball."

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    hihi! i want, to post, but simply have no ideas,

    so if anyone wants to plot or just wants a basic priv thread lmk!

    im open to p much anything except for the extreme negative stuff like big injuries and death etc.

    Stormpaw was one of the handful of youngest apprentices in Skyclan. With only a couple days training, and only one official solo-catch, her hunting skills were lackluster. The silver tabby found herself excellent at sneaking up on easily visible prey, being undetected in the crouch, but locating it, and being fast enough to catch it when she made her presence known, was difficult as nothing else she'd experienced. She didn't quite like to think about how mediocre she was at something. Anyone rational would say "you only just got your apprentice ceremony, your mentor has only given you a few lessons, you're doing great for the time you have"... but Stormpaw refused to be rational.


    However, pushing her doubt in herself aside, she perked up at the idea of a competition. Many times in her kithood had she longed to compete against the big bad warriors of the clan in things that she couldn't, being bound to camp. Tree-climbing... sparring... and of course, hunting. This was her chance. Even if she ultimately failed and would cringe at the thought for the next moon and a half... this was her chance to participate in actual clan life. She'd relish in her abilities outside the nursery.


    "Count me in!"

    Stormkit couldn't say she had spent as much time with her grandfather as she would've wished. She loved the elder's den, in fact she frequented it. She loved the stories they offered, the stupid sounding words of wisdom, the cranky "back in my day"s... but that didn't really count as time spent with Blackbird, did it? It was time spent with elders, not time spent with a relative.


    Unfortunately, the young kit didn't experience the welling of tears in her eyes, the distraught feeling of empty grief. While many would wish they could rid themselves of such feelings, Stormkit almost yearned for them. An ever-growing feeling of regret forming in the silver tabby's chest, angry at herself in a way, for not being sadder. For not having cherished a relative enough to feel the sorrow her other relatives were feeling. Her grief was not empty, she wasn't even sure she could call it grief. But whatever it was, the anger that dragged no one but her own self down, she wished it gone. She wished for the tears. Not the regret.


    With a small peak into the den where he lay, peacefully drawn up into the Silverpelt, Stormkit would immediately retreat out of the den, frustrating swelling evermore, and would sit outside. Listening it, yet refusing to be apart of the conversation.

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