Camp its all your fault | temp private

This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.

possumgrin

kill the headlights
ShadowClan
16
5
Freshkill
0
Nickname
possum
Pronouns
he/him

Incessant mewing made his head groggily roll to the side. Squinted eyes glared out over the edge of his nest, and a familiar ball of fluff melded into view. Oh, yeah. I'm responsible for her. Right.

"Alright already." He grumbled, slowly rising to all fours as his mind whirred with the multitude of ways he could send @F l e a p a w off anywhere else. He had already tasked the younger cat with helping collect bedding, picking up, and practicing on her own. Sitting up slowly, he slouched forward and bent, kicking out his front legs and pulling himself upright in a long stretch.

A crack followed, and his jaws smacked with satisfaction. His vision now unblurred, he noted it was midday at the least. Shit. Good thing it was Fleapaw and not someone else. Gritting his teeth, he pondered what the next best course of action would be. It was unlikely he could keep getting away with bumming the scrap off onto other mentors for much longer before he got some moody looks. Several cats began to pass by, and Possumgrin awkwardly waved to them with a little tail twitch. Keeping up airs was growing more troublesome by the day.

Sure, having this position was a nice way to do close to whatever he pleased, but why did it have to come with so much socializing? He hated it.

Looking back down at his pupil, the tom gave in. "You ready to train today?" He asked in a sluggish meow, ears wilted by the idea of having to move himself further from his nest. Without waiting for a response, he turned and led the way for the smaller feline. His tail practically dragged behind as he watched other mentors walk along with their myriad of fluffballs. This kid better not embarrass me. He knew Fleapaw had a history of getting up to no good, and for the life of him, he could care less.

However, with his image on the line, that just wouldn't do. He spotted a familiar figure within the smaller crowd, and his trajectory changed with a small smile now adorning his face. Perfect! An easy out would be some sparring! Plus, she wasn't an eyesore in the least, and he wasn't always against making a friend or two.

Maybe Fleapaw could stretch her own wings a bit and stay out of his fur for a change. "Hey! Mind if we join you @Mothbite ?" They nearly trilled to the warrior, tufted ears twitching and his once-gloomy tail now waving with invitation. Passing a quick glance to the other's own student with minimal interest before beaming a brighter smile back to the older of the two.

OOC set right after the most recent meeting
 
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Still so young, Desperate for attention!




indenttt Mothbite turns away from Lostpaw, who he's been telling about the plans for today - hunting patrol, then a bit of battle training. He's still getting used to his new responsibility, but he's determined to make sure Lostpaw is taught well, even if she's going to be difficult about it. He hadn't been expecting Possumgrin's interruption, but it's more that welcome.

indenttt "Possumgrin! Mothbite gives him a crooked smile. When they first began to spend time together, as part of the Nighguard, he had found Possumgrin stange, and unpleasant to be around. After some forced proximity, though, Mothbite has come to realize his friendly attitude may be more than just for show. "I'd be alright with that. I'm sure Lostpaw wouldn't mind spending time with her sister, either." Mothbite turns back to regaurd his apprentice, checking her face for a reaction. He's pretty sure Lostpaw is close with her siblings. It'll be nice for them to hang out, and it might even make them more well behaved. "How's that sound, Lostpaw?"

- @lostpaw -​


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Mothbite | 19 moons | Shadowclan Nightguardbababbnihfibnfdifdhfhabbabab




 
-

When Fleapaw imagined what her training would be like, it sure as hell wasn't this. She'd pictured training every day, sparring with her mentor, going on patrols—not running errands everyday like some bottomfeeder. But here she was, doing whatever menial crap Possumgrin threw her way. If she didn't then she could probably say goodbye to ever becoming a warrior. But fuck it if she had to be happy about any of it.

Between the endless grunt work from Possumgrin and trying to pay off her pile of debt to Cicadabuzz, Fleapaw was fried. Her patience wore thinner by the day.

So, after completing yet another riveting task, she returned to find Possumgrin—fucking surprise, surprise—asleep. Again. Honestly, when was he not? How a lazy, sludge-brained tom like him ever made Nightguard was beyond her. Mothbite and Smogmaw were annoying in their own ways, but at least they took their rank seriously… Not that she actually knew what the difference was between a Nightguard and a regular warrior.

"Possumgrin, I'm done. Possumgrin. Possumgrin. Hey. Wake up. Hellooo—" She prodded in a half-assed tone, eyes boring into him as she crouched beside his nest.

Finally, he shifted and she let out an exasperated sigh through her nose. Knowing him, she fully expected to get sent off again to find moss, count ants, or whatever the hell he'd come up with next.
But he surprised her. "W-wait? Really?" She blurted when he mentioned training. For real this time? Her curled ears twitched to attention, the gloom lifting in an instant. He doesn't answer but she pads after him anyway, trying to play it cool, but inside, she is buzzing.

Finally! Maybe her persistence was actually paying off. About time, too. Any more crap and she was was really gonna lose it.

Her excitement hit a snag when Possumgrin beelined to meet Mothbite. Ugh. He nosy as all hell, and his goody attitude made her want to jump off a cliff. She didn't know how Lostpaw put up with him. But… Fleapaw had to admit that she owed him one. He'd helped when they found Tick, and that counted for something, even if it killed her to admit it.

Stiffling the urge to roll her eyes at her mentor's shift in personality. He sure never bothered to speak to her that nice, and she was his apprentice. It takes some effort, but she manages a small nod in Mothbite's direction. Her gaze then lands on her sister, and her face brightens. "C'mon Lostpaw," She smirks, tail curling behind her. "It's gonna be soooo fun!"

The light goes down
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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
 

He didn't pay much mind to the excited babbling of his apprentice nor to the way she egged on her sister. "Perfect!" He chimed with syrupy ease, cutting in before Lostpaw could answer first. The bulkier tom didn't wait for approval. He was already waltzing up beside Mothbite like he owned the air between them.

Possumgrin ignored the lack of personal space entirely, shamelessly lifting a paw to scratch at his ear. Once the itch subsided, he exhaled with a relieved sigh, tilting his head just enough to angle a burning orange gaze toward the two younger cats. A silent urging of 'go on already!'.

"How about practicing some sparring, hm?" His grin stuck like sap on bark, and his voice oozed faux sincerity. He could use the entertainment not that he gave a rats ass about the runts, but a little chaos never hurt, and it'd burn off some of Fleapaw's endless energy. That meant he could act even less interested later.

With a casual flick of his tail, he aimed it lightly at Mothbite's shoulder. "Sound good to you?" The question was offered with disarming ease, but the gleam in his eye said otherwise. He was eager to get this over with.