Open Territory ShadowClan Had conversations with the clouds, the dogs, the dead ❄️ Flower picking

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

{$title} Stoat goes flower picking :)) who wants to come along

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

The last few days, more than a few really. It had all weighed heavily on Stoatpaw. In the wake of the heist, her punishment, everything in between and after. It all had been far too much to process. She had hardly even registered Fleapaw's injury. So she did all she was able to in the aftermath of her pushiment; wander the land, the territory, in search of flowers and plants.

It was warm that day, Greenleaf was rapidly approaching, and Stoatpaw would likely be stuck in the sticky, humid pocosin. She loved her home, the rich and comforting earthiness of the air, the ponds and creeks with bountiful plants and prey. It had raised her, cared for her. And while she was nowhere near as knowledgeable about herbs as the medicine cats or even Fleapaw, she saw the beauty in all the plants and flowers the pocosin rewarded the clan with. Taking plants is a delicate thing; it's something she pondered to herself as her eyes landed on a patch of daisies, delicately plucking both flowers and leaves.

She tucked just a few sprigs into her coat, delicate white petals melding with her tail, only the bright yellow centres and vibrant green leaves could be seen otherwise. It was hard to say where the petals began and her fur ended, but that was of no matter. Stoatpaw muttered a thank you to no one in particular; she knew better than to take more than needed. It was a delicate balance between what was wanted and what was greedy. To take too many leaves leaves none for other cats, but also stops them from repopulating. To pluck every last sprig would stop anyone from having daisies in the future, and that was a foolish endeavour.

Stoatpaw tried to make a mental note of the plants she had delicately tucked beside her nest. They were sparse for now, so she had plenty of work to do, and the only flowers she had found were the delicate pink ones she had found at Fourtrees. A watery smile appeared upon her face. She knew it would be risky to return there again, especially now that she had been barred from leaving Shadowclan territory. It was in part why she followed the rules so diligently. She wouldn't let slip her upset, her indignation.

Obedience was the key to being overlooked; she had learned it a long time ago. But this time, she would use it to her own advantage

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 7 - Travel
  𖧧 Herb Found - Daisy Leaf
  
  Note: Like the wandering thread, these are stores for something else so don't worry I'll be sorting these :] Im also gonna be posting over and over like Flea thread but anyone can join getting plants and flowers for stoat!!!
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Obedience...

That word was bitter on her tongue. Growing up, it was all she knew. Listen to every last thing she was told.

Don't go too far. Don't stray away from the path. Don't speak too loudly. Don't go against what you're told. She supposed being that young, it was needed. Kittens her age have the advantage of hearing; it was something she lacked since birth. Timberfrost only ever coddled her that small to save her, to protect her. It was why they were even here in the first place: to protect her. But what is the point at which protection becomes coddling? Even she couldn't find that line; it just seemed to always be there. A presence over her shoulders, heavy and unyielding. She loved her father, and that would never change. But it was hard not to mourn the loss of her freedom.

How can one mourn something they knew so briefly?

Maybe it was dramatic, over the top. She still had free rein of the territory, not bound to camp. But having to report every last thing she did to Sablestar, asking if she could leave to walk around the pocosin. Having to go to him to request to even near the border and expected to not address other clan cats first. It was suffocating. She excused it when she was young, but now? It was something else entirely.

At least there was finally someone who believed her. Her paws itched to head to Fourtrees, but their next meeting wasn't for a while now. If she could even make it, that was. A sigh parted her lips as she padded along. A bitter scent had caught her attention, drawing her attention from her wandering paws. It wasn't something she was familiar with, strange-looking and pointy leaves. Not lobed like a usual leaf, but almost like pine needles. Staring curiously, she reached down and gingerly plucked a few sprigs. Though her face crumpled in disgust, it tasted as bitter as it smelled, brush-like leaves tickling her nose as she steeled herself. The sprigs tucked safely into her tail, she breathed a sigh of relief as her lungs were released from the pungent scent. Though her fur would smell awful if she didn't clean it when she got back to camp.

She glanced out across the small clearing, tangled trees and muddled ponds. She had grown well-versed in the area and would continue to for the time being; it would be her outlet, and her alibi. If Sablestar saw her in the pocosin, with proof she hadn't disobeyed, it would give her a chance to... Push the boundaries. She had been overlooked plenty, following orders wasn't something deemed rewardable by Shadowclan, by Sablestar. But disobeying, breaking the mould, for some reason that was deemed enough to be rewarded. It wasn't Fleapaw's fault, she supposed, but there was still a rumbling resentment that Fleapaw went into a fight with Thunderclan and was rewarded for it, and yet Stoatpaw obeyed Cicadabuzz's orders and avoided a fight, and yet she was punished.

So she would obey. Return to being small, overlooked. Slipping through the cracks but with a purpose this time. Stoatpaw gingerly rearranged her flowers, nose scrunching at the spiny plant, but continuing along the pocosin regardless.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 1 - Wound & Infection
  𖧧 Herb Found - Horsetail
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Stoatpaw's gaze dragged about the expanse, and she wasn't so surprised to be utterly alone out there. It was strange, though, in the midst of a punishment, and yet she wasn't being shadowed as she was when she was younger. Now, instead, she felt as if she wandered the pocosin like a ghost. Maybe that's what it was like for those cats...

Her face crinkled up just at the thought, padding away as if she could outrun the memory. The acrid scent of blood clung to her mind, like her paws were still soaked in the stuff. Though her paws weren't... Pristine. She hadn't been taking care of herself as much as of late. It wasn't like her fur was matted or she was coated in mud, but her fur was more tousled, and she waited a little longer every time to sit and groom her paws of the mud she had trodden through. The only time she really tried to settle her fur back to where it should be was refreshing her flowers; she had only done it twice by then and was in part why she had come out here.

Even as the apprentice trod gently through the pocosin, not a white flower caught her eye, no flower at all, really. As she sniffed about, all she could find was some useless, wilted weed.... For a moment, her mind drifted back to Serpentberry, of all cats. The gratitude for an herb that to most others was a weed. Stoatpaw didn't know how herbs were used, just that they were important. Though she knew flowers, the scents and colours she could use to adorn her fur and nest. But as she searched fruitlessly, an ache formed in her chest. She hadn't gotten to go to the border to give a polite hello to the medicine cat, or past the Thunderpath to spend time with Icepaw. Her last flower crown had long wilted, so she had to throw it out of her nest before she got in trouble for leaving a mess in the den.

It was a bitter, lonely sort of feeling. Of course, she had friends in Shadowclan. Tickpaw's reassuring presence, Sealpaw's kindness in spite of everything she had experienced, Fleapaw - when she saw her anyway - always knowing what to say to reignite the fire to persist despite being kicked down. But it didn't mean she couldn't miss the kind faces she had gotten used to greeting on border patrols or sneaking out. The only cat she could manage to see was Torrentpaw, and even then, she was actively disobeying Sablestar. But it was a small refusal, a brief conversation with a friend with the same goal as her. Remedy the tension caused by Cicadabuzz's plan. If she got in trouble for that well.... Well, Stoatpaw didn't want to think about it.

Her gaze again dragged around the area she had wandered out to, realising with a bit of a groan her paws had led her to the barrens. It was no wonder she couldn't find any herbs. Almost nothing grew out here. She knew she would have to turn back, try and find the monster tree and try to stick close to the camp. Or... She hummed, the sound reverberating in her skull, making the decision to press on. There was something she had heard lived in the barrens, something she had been told to stay away from, avoid for her safety. But she might as well check it out as she went around the wetlands to the backside of camp, the herbs were picked incessantly on the path she first trod along, so maybe something more useful could be located on her... Detour.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 1 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

TRIGGER WARNING

Mentions of suicidal ideation.​

Instead of allowing her paws to take her the rest of the way mindlessly, Stoatpaw found herself walking with almost conviction. She had only heard of this place, having watched Fleapaw talk absently about her wanderings, and on the lips of warriors, warning other young cats not to venture off to it. No one thought to warn her, though. Timberfrost was the only one to actually warn of the dangers of the pocosin, or of dangerous animals. There was no need to warn an apprentice who surely wouldn't stray so far from camp!

It was that constant underestimation that drove her insane. She had feigned hearing to not be coddled, and yet she was treated as something delicate and soft and fragile in spite of it. Even know, when her secret was out for everyone to know, it still caused her grief. It was the pitying looks she caught from the corner of her eyes, whether it was for her punishment or disability, she didn't care to know. Either way, it infuriated her. So she might as well play into the seeming ignorance everyone assumed from her, nothing more than a delicate, pretty face. She couldn't be punished for heading to the beast that rested in the heart of the barrens; no one told her it was there.

Locating it didn't take long, and it was more frightful than she realised initially. The yawning maw of the earth, like something had clawed its way from the centre of the earth and left the wound here in the barrens, or a threat to swallow the whole pocosin in a single gulp. The "Bottomless Pit" so cats had called it. She could see why. Light didn't reach the bottom, and even as she plucked some half-dead weed and let it flutter off the edge, her eyes were trained on the leaves as they were consumed with ease.

Her mind wandered, what could be down there, who may be down there. It was obvious there would be skeletal remains somewhere down there; cats lived here long before they all did, after all. There had to have been a cruel leader to banish traitors to the bottom of the pit, or hapless souls who stumbled in during the darkest of nights.

She blinked. Realising how close to the edge she was. The earth was... Moderately solid underpaw, she moved her paw and gingerly batted at the edge of the hole, and a light crumbling of earth trickled into the pit. It wasn't like the thing would break under her. So, she sat down, just for a short while. Staring out into the nothingness. Even in the light of day, it was like the pit destroyed any light within. Stoatpaw had to chuckle, almost bitterly, it felt oddly familiar. She let her paw dangle over the edge, staring at it as it waved absently over the dead drop just a step away.

Of course, her mind drifted; anyone would sit here. She wouldn't indulge the thoughts, but she sat with them instead. Like an old friend, one who showed up in the quiet moments after a fight, after a failure, when sleep evaded her during the day and her clanmates enjoyed one another's company while she lay alone in the apprentice's den. Stoatpaw gave herself a steady breath. She didn't know if anyone noticed she left camp, if anyone had come looking, or however long it would take anyone to. That idea was comforting yet painful, like a thorny plant with the sweetest scent.

Stoatpaw opened her eyes, looking into the pit again. It didn't scare her, like staring into the night sky. But she wouldn't get too comfortable either. Without a word, she rose to her paws. There were no flowers here; the only plant she found near there had surely reached whatever the bottom of the pit was, settled there with lost cats and forgotten memories. She wished them well under a mumbled breath with a bow of the head. With that, she turned on her paws and walked around the maw and past it, dead grass underfoot, slowly coming greener as she left the barrens.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Having left the passing ill thoughts to the pit where they belonged, Stoatpaw finally found herself back in the lush undergrowth of the pocosin, where she was much more familiar. Though it was very rare she would come this far from camp, but given she only had Shadowclan territory to venture through, she thought she may as well explore every last inch.

The scent of mud and water was strong where she ventured, the heat making the air thick with moisture. It wasn't exactly pleasant, she cringed at how warm it got in some of the more densely foliaged areas near the ponds. It was moments like these that she longed for cooler seasons; leafbare was cruel, but the cold felt more familiar. Greenleaf was pleasantly rainy and the abundance of flowers was refreshing. And... Well... She never had a leaf fall yet. She heard plenty about it, leaves of the trees died and fell to the ground underpaw, the season of first deaths...

She wouldn't draw too many assumptions yet, she would wait the three moons until it befell the pocosin. Hopefully, by then, she would be a warrior too, and she would be able to enjoy the season without restriction. Hopefully.

A pit of her own formed in her stomach as she padded further into the thick of the pocosin. Tickpaw had been so reassuring, he almost convinced her it was true, she would be fine, she could be a great warrior. But the longer time passed since their conversation, the less she was certain of it. She had done nothing but fail over and over. Lost horrendously in the spar with Flea, her progress in her training with Sablestar felt nothing but stagnant and the Riverclan hiest... She had done nothing but make a mess of everything. She would be a useless warrior at this rate if she ever even graduated her assessment; she fumbled her last one so horrendously that she felt nothing more than dead weight.

But it's why she was out here. She would prove herself one way or another. And that spark in her chest reignited for a moment as the sight of gorgeous purple flowers caught her eye. She wasn't so sure what they were, but they were beautiful. Stoatpaw stepped forward and smelled them, her eyes widening in surprise at how sweet they were. Despite where her mind had been wandering, a small smile caught at the corner of her lips. So of course, she grabbed a couple sprigs and tucked them with the small few plants she had managed to find so far.

For a moment, her motivation was rejuvinated. A reminder of what she was aiming to do. She allowed herself another grounding breath. She wasn't out here to doubt herself, after all.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 4 - Illness
  𖧧 Herb Found - Catmint
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Though that passing motivation fizzled rather quickly, as the longer Stoatpaw walked following finding the weird plant, the less it seemed she could find anything else. Now, from a place of dry, barren grass, everything seemed to be sodden from the passing rain of new leaf. The ground was thick and sticky with saturated mud that clung to her paws.

Her face knit in frustration, but she tried to persist in her search for plants. Holding her nose up, the apprentice tried to catch some semblance of floral aromas in the air. There was something faint, but it seemed far. With each passing pawstep in the pocosin, trying to ignore the persistent squelching as she searched.

It seemed futile, her face falling as she found the origin of the scent, and it was an utterly ruined, muddied and trampled flower. The colour of which she couldn't even figure out as she delicately scooped it up to see if it was salvageable. She couldn't help but sigh, trying not to be defeated. There was good reason for her task, an even better reason why she couldn't give up. Not yet. She would keep searching all the way home if she had to.

The ivory apprentice swallowed her upset; she wouldn't let it fester, she had allowed that far too long, and her whole plan would disintegrate like the weed she abandoned in the mud. Just a little longer and a little strength was what she needed now.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

All wasn't lost in the cool, damp mud, so it seemed. Even as she battled with the suddenly overwhelming texture of the mud, she managed to press on closer to a pond nearby.

Each pawstep was careful, methodical. She had been trained well about bodies of water. Never walk brazenly, treat the banks like they may collapse beneath you, never keep your back to the water- Though, then again, that last one didn't make much sense. Ponds didn't rise, and neither did rivers, not unless there was flooding, water couldn't sneak up on her?

Regardless of the weird rules, she had already spotted what she wanted. A great big tree dipped its roots in the water, sipping it like it would keep her cool on blazing greenleaf days... Though Stoatpaw couldn't deny that it sounded wonderful right about now. Which was why, as she clambered on the winding roots, delicately stepping along them not to slip and fall, she pulled some clumps of moss off the side of the tree. The north side, if she recalled. Or at least that's what other cats said once. Who that was, it was a mystery to her now, but their words were cemented in her mind.

The clumps were surprisingly sodden; she expected them to be dry and claggy like the moss she last found, but then again, with a personal pond for refreshment, they were in no short order of water. Too damp for nests, but just right for what she would need them for. It would make picking more plants more tedious, but as long as she remembered to retrieve them before walking off, she could manage.

Delicately, the apprentice hopped from the tree, smiling back gratefully for the help. Maybe in another life, she could have spent every last breath out in places like this, studying and understanding the plants. They were kinder to her, giving and forgiving. Unlike cats, she spent her days with; tiptoed around away from borders to avoid.

Very few seemed to understand her or take the time to do so. She refused to be seen as some delicate little thing, but then again, some days she wondered if she was. Too soft and kind for the rigorous life of a warrior. But she tossed that thought to the side. She had begun to find cats who took time to understand her, spoke slowly and deliberately so she knew what they said. Maybe someday she would have cats who would humour her own... Language.

She had to figure out more words, important ones, and teach them to those willing to be patient. Pawspeak felt like an apt name, a safer communication for her when it wasn't safe for folks to speak. It had been on her mind since the heist, after all. She had let them all down since she couldn't see what Hollowmist said, so she wanted to skip that issue entirely. Stoatpaw had even put the work in to figure out words and names and places all with the use of her own paws, but part of her worried, almost knew, that most cats wouldn't give her that time to learn...

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 4 - Illness
  𖧧 Herb Found - Moss
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She would have more time to ponder it soon, she was busy training and gathering. Stoatpaw's priority was to graduate, become a warrior, hopefully be freed of her punishment. That way she could utilise her time in a manner she desired, rather than running around patching up dens and nests.

What she would use that time for, well, she didn't quite know. Other than her little pawspeak project and flower picking, she hadn't found herself many hobbies to pick up quite yet... She had near enough all the time in the world soon enough to fill her days. But, then again.

A thought crossed her mind, made her hesitate as her eyes fell across some rather lovely purple, fragrant flowers. Someday she might have her own apprentice... She wasn't a handful, at least she thought not. Fleapaw was a character for sure but Jadethorn was able to handle her well. And maybe once she was a warrior too, she would get an apprentice.

Blightkit maybe, they would be apprenticed not long after her own warrior graduation. Then again, there weren't so many kittens in Shadowclan at the moment. No one was having kittens and soon her own father would have no one to watch over with Monsterkit's approaching apprenticeship.

The realisation left a bitter taste in her mouth, stronger than the one left by the plant she pulled out of the ground. Strong and pungent, enough to make her eyes water as she tucked the stalks away delicately. A mixture of the chemicals from the plant and some sort of dread. Her brother would be an apprentice too and she and Flea warrior some day soon. Hopefully... She knew Jadethorn had been pushing to rush Fleapaw's assessment after her first failure.

A jolt of nausea struck Stoatpaw, she could only blame the pungent plant so much. Just the idea of Fleapaw being a warrior before Stoat? She didn't dare to think about it, Flea had left her in the dust once before. Stoat didn't know if she could handle a second time...

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 1 - Wound & Infection
  𖧧 Herb Found - Wild Garlic
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She wouldn't let those thoughts fester, no, she couldn't.

As much as it killed her. The idea of being left in the wake of the other's improvement. It was undeniable, really, especially after her utter failure of a sparring attempt. Stoatpaw always thought she was up to par with her kin, but at this rate, she feared she wouldn't see her warrior name anytime soon.

Instead, she swallowed hard. It was up to Sablestar if he deemed her worthy, but she could think about other things. Her warrior name. It was something that she couldn't stop thinking about. It felt like yesterday she was excited to be given the name Stoatpaw as a kitten, and now her own warrior name was approaching rapidly.

She wondered what her mentor and leader would gift her with. Stoatpaw thought she was a skilled hunter, maybe Stoatclaw or Stoatfang? Those didn't fit her much, though. Maybe a flower name! She had been diligently out in the pocosin plenty even before this, looking for herbs, even if, as the thought crossed her mind, all she could find was some crumbling, useless weed. She sighed as she left the thing behind, still pondering.

Stoatvine.
Stoatpetal
Stoatstem.

Her face scrunched up, those didn't sound good either. Stoatshine, Stoatpounce, Stoatsong- That last thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Sablestar wouldn't be so cruel to name her like that.

Stoatsnow.
Stoatblossom.
Stoatfreeze.

At that point, she grew a little nervous. Nothing sounded good, sounded like her. Nothing like, just, Stoat. Everyone got kit and paw, but no one would be named like her, so it had to be... Special. What even made her special?...

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Maybe she did have too lofty plans?

She couldn't think of anything that made her... Special. Something that stuck out was that she would be known for. All she could think of was being coddled, treated like something delicate and weak and...

Her expression hardened, and something of acknowledgement spread across her face. Something delicate. And weak. And pliable. And usable. Blue eyes, nearing some sort of wild expression, landed squarely on a half-disturbed dandelion. Most of the tufts of seeds dashed away. Her mind fell back to the delicately plucked yellow thing she retrieved for Serpentberry. Quiet and obedient. Maybe the medicine cat meant well, but Stoatpaw listened far too easily to her. Delicate and obedient.

She had been told the tale of dandelions: blow all the seeds away and you can make a wish. So seeing one already missing most of its seeds felt like a taunt. Some vindictive joke on Stoat. Anything she ever wanted, wished for would never happen.

A roar of fury lit behind pale blue eyes as she crushed the thing under paw, quelling its taunts. The rich scent of its leaves filled the air as the apprentice let out a huff, leaving behind the crushed dandelion. There are far more plants in the pocosin.

Stoat would loathe - no - despise a name like that. Maybe something sharp would never fit her, but she wouldn't let her perception, her name, be dictated by how little everyone else thought of her. She would love plants always, but if they were used against her to seem weak, she would rescind the name before anyone would utter it again. She was sick of her fate being left in the paws of cats who saw her weak, delicate like a flower and like fuck she would let that be all she is known for.

She would prove to them she was more than they could ever expect.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 1 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[bluegale bluegale]

repay me,

in kind

ShadowClan's apprentices have been milling away lately, gathering herbs for Cicadabuzz in the obvious lack of their stores. The days following the heist on RiverClan's territory for plants as Sablestar had put it had proven to be fairly tense. But apprentices- regardless of their participation in the event- had been working to make up the difference for the medicine cat. It's admirable, even though Bluegale somewhat resents Cicadabuzz and Wolfpack for having nearly gotten Hollowmist killed. It had been one of the first times since their parents had died that Bluegale had truly been confronted with the reality of death. Such existential thoughts had been so meaningless up until recent.

Hunting has been unfruitful. Probably because of the shakenness of it all. At least, that's how Bluegale explains it away anyhow. He has never been particularly talented. Bluegale finds himself accompanying the quietnatured Stoatpaw on a hunt for herbs. He does not quite know how to speak to the apprentice, finding that he doesn't know much about her outside of her being Sablestar's charge. Still, she is one of the others beside Fleapaw and Tickpaw that are putting in such fervent work towards replinishing stocks. Aut Bluegale does not particularly like Fleapaw. He finds her sharp, fiery nature to be offputting. Jadethorn is a good mentor for her, and that's exactly why Bluegale stays as far away from both of them as physically possible. So he chooses to accompany the other instead.

Stoatpaw seems to be lost in thought, so Bluegale opts not to bother her until he's dug something up. "Not sure if this is worth anything," he admits. Whatever. It isn't like Bluegale needs to know about these stupid plants and flowers to be impressive anyway. "But maybe you can find something to do with it... Or Cicada can, anyway."

/ hope it's ok i had him join in somewhat late!!

1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed. (YYEEEOOOWWWCHHHH)

SPEECH HERE

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Stoatpaw was a little alarmed by the seemingly sudden appearance of the warrior, a little ashamed to have been ignorant of his presence, and even more so by the fact that he was kin to Hollowmist.

Shame already had burned like a wildfire in her chest this last moon or so, she had been trying to keep Hollow as much company as she could, but subconsciously avoiding Bluegale and Halfshade. With Bluegale here, as much as it didn't seem he wasn't upset at her, there was still some kind of dread.

Though she was surprised to see the tom offer a... Weed. One thing she wasn't so sure could even be used. "Oh, thank you, Bluegale." She gave him a watery smile, eyes avoiding his gaze, other than to read his lips. "Even if it can't really be used for medicine, it could still be a nice decoration, it's what I have used a lot of plants for, to make my nest look nice." The apprentice hummed, delicately taking the thing from the other. He meant well, tried as much as a warrior who likely had never gone looking for herbs before. Carefully, like it was something truly important, she tucked it into her fur with the rest of her plants.

She padded ahead, rifling through some similarly useless leafy plants, trying to ignore the moose in the field, but it was difficult with the warrior not far from her. Stoatpaw let out a sigh, pausing for a moment as she absently plucked at the no-good plant before her, her paws beginning to ache from being out for most of the day already, it seemed. "I... I'm sorry Hollowmist got so hurt... I wish I'd stayed to help more, but it told me to run, and I didn't know what else to do."

She didn't want to meet the warrior's eyes again, but she glanced up, tentatively, bracing herself subconsciously to be berated more for her actions during the raid. But it wasn't like she could go the rest of time without apologising for what she had a paw in, even if Hollowmist wouldn't accept her apologies anymore, she felt remiss if she didn't offer the same to those closest to the warrior who saved her life.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed.
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She pressed ahead, stomach turning at the idea of staying still. It wasn't like she was trying to avoid Bluegale, but she loathed the idea of sitting still and getting berated if he grew upset. If he had anything important to say, he would stop her. But until then, she had something important to do.

Camp wasn't far from here, but she wanted to find at least a little more before retiring to her nest, ready for training that night. So, the apprentice pushed ahead, feeling the eyes of the warrior on the back of her head.

Carefully, she sniffed about, with the area being closer to camp, she feared she would come up with even more nothing as she had for a while. Maybe the area had been plucked dry, or foot traffic had trampled down anything useful. Her tail lashed about, trying not to grow frustrated, though it grew difficult, feeling like she had made as much progress as she could for now.

Though something pungent caught her attention, for a moment she thought a wind was making her senses mistake her already collected herbs for something new, but her eyes fell on a great big bushel of... Something! It was fragrant, not quite like the other green herb she grabbed, but maybe something similar. Plucking a few sprigs, she was pleasantly surprised by the taste. It was kinda flowery and the tiniest bit like mint. It wasn't like she was going to eat anything she picked herself; she would need a medicine cat to confirm anything she collected first, but it wasn't an unwelcome taste.

Tucking it away in her tail, she glanced back at Bluegale, smiling tentatively. "I'm not so sure what this is, but usually fragrant smelling plants have some kinda use, it's why the medicine den has such a strong scent to it." She nods, like it was a confirmation to herself. "So, even if you aren't sure if anything is useful, sometimes if it's got a strong or familiar scent to the medicine den, I'm sure it can be used for something."

The apprentice didn't linger for long, eyes already on the search for something else useful to try and grab before the sun sank too low to be of any use.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
  𖧧 1d7 Roll: 1 - Wound & Infection
  𖧧 Herb Found - Thyme
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 9 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​