Private easy once you know how its done | fleapaw

[possumgrin]

Daylight blossomed through barren branches and warmed the earth below in an inviting midday glow. Through the gentle breeze, Possumgrin was busy at work - or at least something he considered 'real work.' Carefully, the blue feline had crafted his hiding spot, neatly pulling together what little this barren wasteland of a territory had to offer to make a half-decent nest. Once his messy craft was complete, his bulky form practically flopped onto it. Sure, he knew it was well past sleep time, but evening patrol was his duty today. If that was the case, then that meant he was going to rest up. He couldn't be at full strength if he wasn't well-rested anyway, right?

Languidly, he rolled over in his ratty little makeshift nest. Nose tucked under his left paw and pale belly exposed to the skies above. His back legs kicked up, and his free paw rested awkwardly at his side as he lay in a state of half-awareness. The sun felt wonderful today, and he wasn't going to miss out on the perfect opportunity to sunbathe. So far, this had been the one place Fleapaw had yet to discover, and he'd done his best to avoid the pesky paw since the day he was chained to her. They were assured she wasn't dumb enough to travel this far into the territory alone without some kind of guidance. He hadn't shown her all of the muck of Shadowclan for that very reason in itself.

Sighing softly, he twisted onto his stomach and nuzzled into the broken twigs below, a content smile gracing their half-hidden mug. Crrreaak. His body stiffened with shock as the sound rang off the dead trees around him. No. Way. His angular head lifted slowly with disbelief, and squash-colored eyes locked onto the gnarled bush beside him. A familiar scent hit his nose, and the tom groaned with irritation.

" @F l e a p a w ! " They snapped aloud, feathered tail lashing with dismay. "Get over here - now!"
​

 

[F l e a p a w]

-

Fleapaw had been following the scent for a while—mud and peat twisted with something sour and distinctly Possumgrin. She'd gone out looking for him again, hoping maybe this time she could goad him into teaching her something. Every day it felt like he got harder to find, and she was starting to think he was doing it on purpose. Or maybe… maybe it was a test? It was pretty fun tracking him down, like a long hunt. His trail had led her to the ragged edges of their territory. Fleapaw explored a lot, but this was further than she'd ever gone before.

If he was gonna keep ditching her, then he would have to get a whole lot better at hiding his trail.

The undergrowth was dense, branches snagging at her pelt and leaves slapping her across the muzzle as she crawled, doing her best to stay quiet. He was close now. Just ahead, she could hear the rustle of movement. Her jaw clenched at the noise. She lowered her head to the ground, hoping that he hadn't heard.

Any hope that she'd gone unnoticed vanished the second his voice rang out—an irritated bark. Ah shit, he sounds mad. Fleapaw winced, ears pressing tight to her skull as she finally yanked herself free from the bush's grasp. She slunk into view, dirty and disheveled, with a nervous gap-toothed smile on her face.

"Heeeyyy… Possumgrin," She puffed, trying not to sound too winded. "Sure was hard to find you this time. I'm gettin' pretty good at tracking, huh?" Most mentors would probably praise their apprentice for a job well done, right? Well, not hers. Fleapaw already knew from the ugly look on his face that she was in for it.

The light goes down

FLEAPAW

7 MOONS
SHE/HER
MENTOR(S) - POSSUMGRIN & FROSTSTORM
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

@Froststorm

A MARK from god

 

[possumgrin]

Frustration bubbled up as Possumgrin pulled himself from the nest, kicking it over in annoyance. Not amused by the brown mollies sheepish grin. Their grey brow furrowed as he rattled his brain for a good excuse, but nothing came to him. Screw it. Turning to look down at the smaller feline, his usual smile was gone. Instead, his maw was pinched into a thin line of dismay. Holding back the broiling anger that burned within his chest.

"Who gave you permission to leave camp?" He didn't wait for an answer as his voice hissed low and rough. Tail still lashing at his backside. "You cannot just go waltzing out into the territory alone. It's dangerous." He chastises the youth with an added tongue click. "No matter how good you are at tracking." Possumgrin's scolding tone doesn't budge a smidge as he formulates words. Right paw tapping moodily against the dirt. "You know as well as I do, I did not take you with me today. So what gave you the hare brained idea to follow me?" Their eyes shimmer with cold irritation, but he manages to control his volume.

The tom didn't want to catch any wandering patrols attention. Shaking his tufted head, he now glowered at the abandoned nest. What the hell am I gonna do with her? The little pest never stays out of my tail! Eventually, he takes notice of her dirtied pelt and embarrassed expression. Well...

For a moment, it seemed like a sliver of decency washed over him. Maybe I should take some of Marbleshine's advice? It hurt his pride to admit it, but his sister had far better outcomes when it came to talking about feelings. That, and he could stall for a little more time. Maybe send Fleapaw back to camp without giving up too much of his nap.

Though he knew damn well she wouldn't leave without getting something out of it. Not that he knew what but he could bullshit long enough for it to feel meaningful. Flopping down onto his rear, he hunched over and looked down at her, face still grim but his delivery less heated. "What do you want from me, Fleapaw?" It was a sincere enough question. For a change, he didn't hide behind a mask. He left the floor open for her to speak her mind, or whatever was rattling around in that tiny noggin of hers.​

 

[F l e a p a w]

-

The apprentices' ears flicked back upon her head as the verbal lashing ensued. Were it anyone else, she might've rolled her eyes and filtered the drivel out entirely. But this tom was supposed to be her mentor, even if he never acted like it. Still, she couldn't help the dull look that crossed her face when he mentioned the territory being 'dangerous'. She stifled a sigh. Well duh—yeah it was dangerous, but who cares? Fleapaw had snuck out more times than she cared to remember, but as long as she was quick about it, nothing bad ever happened…

But he seemed real pissed, more than she thought he had a right to be. Was it really because he was worried about her getting hurt? Somehow, Fleapaw doubted that.

Well, if it wasn't a test then why was he out here? A frown creased the corners of her mouth.

She shifted nervously, paws kneading the muddy ground, squishing the muck between her toes absentmindedly. Fleapaw mulled on how best to answer his question, or rather on how best to convince him. "Well I—I just thought we could train today? Together, I mean. I've been doing a lot of hunting and other stuff…" Stocking the fresh kill pile, cleaning nests, going on patrols by herself and doing whatever the hell Cicadabuzz set her to. The list went on, and it felt like she'd hardly learned anything new. So wasn't she ready for something else? "But I was hopin' maybe you could teach me some fighting stuff? You look plenty tough an I bet you're a real good fighter! So you could show me something…Right?" Fleapaw dug in her heels a little, meeting her mentor's gaze with hopeful eyes.

The light goes down

FLEAPAW

7 MOONS
SHE/HER
MENTOR(S) - POSSUMGRIN & FROSTSTORM
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

@Froststorm

A MARK from god