really, [OPEN]

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Blazingpaw snorted - this was ridiculous. The tom's eyes were frozen on the measly remains of the fresh-kill pile. It was nearly noon, and already the clan needed more food. "Figures..." He muttered bitterly beneath his breath. The one morning he decided to sleep in, the one morning he woke up starving, he was given this. The left overs consisted of a squashed toad, a half-eaten squirrel, and two tiny voles. The tom rolled his eyes, was he living with barbarians? His eyes settled painfully on the voles; they would hardly quench his hunger, still it was better than nothing. Blazingpaw let a loud, over-exaggerated sigh leave his lips before grabbing the voles by the tail and settling down to eat. The tom had them finished in a mere gulp. For a few seconds he felt a moment of serenity overcome him, but it was soon vanquished by the carnivorous growling of his stomach. "For Starclan's sake!" He had specifically chosen this day to rest, he surely didn't want to go out and hunt. His eyes traveled to the camp's overgrown entrance, nothing. He opened his mouth, drawing in the scents, he couldn't smell anything. All of the patrols were well outside of camp, and they probably wouldn't return at least for another hour. Blazingpaw sighed once more, "Fox-dung." He spat. With a snarl fixed on his jowls the tom leaped to his paws and sauntered toward the warrior's den. If he was going to hunt than some unlucky bastard was going to accompany him. The warriors den was situated beneath a large overturned tree. The warriors slept peacefully under the protective branches, and during leaf-bare it was actually quite warm. Blazingpaw sat himself squarely in front of the den's entrance, a scowl settled across his face, "Hunting patrol." He barked. Sure, he didn't particularly hold the authority to arrange a patrol, but Jaggedleaf wasn't anywhere in sight - and Blazingpaw wasn't one to follow the rules anyway. [bg=a99a8d]

Padding into the camp with a vole in her jaw the calico apprentice set it on the pile and it dropped all the way to the bottom. Skypaw looked down to only see her piece of prey and a squashed toad. Blinking she rolled her eyes and looked around the camp. It was quiet as usual. She passed a hunting patrol when she was out so it was a little late to join that. Skypaw didn't feel like eating or resting. She wanted to keep busy as always. She scanned the camp again and was about to head out when she stopped and saw blazingpaw. Raising her eyes a bit when she looked at him he was sitting outside of the warriors den looking as if he was waiting on someone. The white pawed calico she cat padded over to him and stood a few tail lengths away and mewed, ''Are you waiting on someone?'' She looked down into the dark den but really couldn't since anyone was in there, all the smells were of all the warriors that slept in there so many scents were attacking her nose at once. Her green eyes led back to looking at the tom and waited for a response. A wind blew past them letting leaves drop from the trees. Was that time of year.. it was only going to get harder from here. Prey would hide and warriors would get sick sadly some might die. It was just part of life in the clans.

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"Hunting patrol." Light flashed in Whitesmoke's vision, blinding her temporarily before the dim light of the warriors den soothed the harsh sunshine that dappled into her nest. She was stiff. Her bones felt as if they were made of ice, ready to crack at any single movement. Her body weighed down, her thick white fur not helping the cause. Her mind was foggy. She was frozen there, unable to process the reason of why she woke up, or even where she even was. The time, the time. What was the time? Yes, sun-high. It was sun-high. The painful awakening told her that. But where was she? Where was she? She comforted herself by hastily looking around, feeling the bedding under her paws. At the slight prickle beneath her body and her collection barely peeking out for visible eyes, she knew where she was. Yes, she knew. The last part of her morning to process was the voice that had dragged her out of her unconscious state. The voice. She immediately recognized it despite the odds, despite how long she took to take in everything else: it was Blazingpaw. He had a distinctive gruff, deep voice. Not only that, but he always had the same tone. The same, sarcastic and antagonizing tone. Yes, it was Blazingpaw. Staring down wistfully at her bedding, she heaved herself up, her body stumbling beneath her as, indeed, she felt as if her bones made of ice were in fact splintering, then of course multiplying into tinier pieces. Her body was recovering from the night's "hunt" followed by a dawn patrol, and it was as if she didn't get any sleep before this smart-ass woke her up. It couldn't be helped, though. She had to get outside now. It was too bright, and she feared between her body and the sun's rays the cherished pile underneath her nest would get too hot and suffer. She must leave. From the dark she slithered out to meet the demanding apprentice, just past Skypaw. Whitesmoke had yet to process the other apprentice had even joined him. "I hope you don't think this means you're leading," Whitesmoke softly mused, her gaze cloudy from her ongoing transition to the awakening world and her voice still soft from misuse and neglect. [bg=b7b8ba]

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The tom cast Skypaw a long, hard stare, "No, I'm just standing here enjoying the view." Blazingpaw snorted - Skypaw was your typical doting apprentice - always wanting to the best that she can, curious, actually wanting to learn - it made him sick. But there wasn't any one else, and she wasn't a bad hunter, well for a she-cat. Blazingpaw let a loud, heavy sigh leave his lips before meowing, "But if you must know, I'm gathering a hunting patrol." He let his eyes narrow before continuing, "Do you want to join?" The words came out short. and. to. the. point. He hated being considerate, or nice even. "I hope you don't think this means you're leading," The tom carried his gaze back toward the warrior's den, Whitesmoke's lidded gaze met his. Blazingpaw rolled his eyes, "It's a hunting patrol does it really matter?" His disrespect for his elders was strong. The apprentice didn't see rank, he only saw himself. He was a large cat, much bigger than his fellow apprentices and several of the other warriors. It was hard to respect someone you looked down upon - literally. The tom peered past the she-cat, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone else that might be interested, "Were there any toms in there?" The words left his mouth without any sort of thought. His sexist remarks were second nature to him. He didn't want to spend his time with petty she-cats. They were always chittering and chattering away about some stupid tom, or some other pithy, idiotic issue - that usually wasn't even an issue. They made a big deal out of everything. "I'm not going to spend my morning hunting with a pair of mouse-brained she-cats." The tom muttered quietly beneath his breath. [bg=a99a8d]

Skypaw sat silently and listened to the toms little snotty remarks. It didn't bother her really. She was use to attitudes by now and she just knew not to argue back. Another voice came into the scene and out came Whitesmoke. Glancing between the two cats Blazingpaw still having an attitude she rolled her eyes and waited quietly if they were going to leave. Hearing a little bit that came out of his mouth the little apprentice got up and mewed, ''You know if you don't like being in a club of she cats you can always stay behind and watch camp.'' being a little snobby but in a light friendly way. She knew his remark was not going to be pretty towards her but she could take. What was the tom gonna do? Hit her? She looked at Whitesmoke and mewed, ''Will it just be us three then? We can wait a little longer so mr anti-shecat can get a little shot of another tom joining us.'' Glancing back at the tom she wanted to let him know two could play this game. She wasn't the mean cat type honestly she wasn't. She was eager to head out of camp and catch something for her clan. She hated it going hungry. Green eyes still looked upon the warrior and waited for her response.

<sup>Whitesmoke's aura fell from the brink of night to the pit of hell as Blazingpaw began his usual routine of him pretending to be all 'big and bad' and covering everyone with thorns in the process. To be honest, the white she-cat had much patience. Maybe due to savoring the last bits of her old personality, or because she had already given up on her Clan-mates and really didn't give two shits about how anyone else behaved, but nevertheless it was clear that she wasn't going to give into his rude attitude, nor take it either. Whether he thought it or not, she was the superior. And that was not going to be threatened by a mere low rank.

"No," she began, casting the little attention she had to her surroundings at Skypaw. "He can deal with it. It is not like any other cat, let alone tom, would want to join this patrol with an apprentice who does no good to anyone. Now," she included Blazingpaw in her sights this time, her eyes unmoving and betraying no emotion in their blue depths. "Let's go. Both of you. I'm sure Blazingpaw's mentor won't appreciate him sitting around doing nothing while he is out." Whitesmoke was not particularly being revengeful, but merely logical in her decision.

It was true; Blazingpaw's mentor was out, as far as she could tell, and it was Blazingpaw's plan to begin with to join a hunting patrol, and now he's got one. It wasn't like he could join any other patrol until sun-down. All the dawn duties have been done, and the border patrol had already been dismissed. They were lucky no hunting patrol had been assembled yet as it was, and the three of them would be plenty to fill the fresh-kill pile. Blazingpaw might as well be a warrior with his seasons, and Skypaw was a fast learner and had been praised time and time again throughout the camp of her hunting skills.

Without any pause, the warrior raised her tail for them to follow, and walked off without another single word. Whitesmoke had no doubts she would gain Blazingpaw's obedience (at least in the sense of letting her take the lead in this hunting patrol) even if Blazingpaw were to dare confront his mentor or even the deputy about her control over him, but it seemed everyone was against the poor (not really) apprentice due to his bad attitude. Any cat could guess Whitesmoke's troubles if the name 'Blazingpaw' even was breathed into the atmosphere, and they would automatically sympathize with her and she would get her way. So if he really thought he could get away from disobeying her lead, he was definitely not going to win the battle unless Whitesmoke lost all interest in dealing with it, which was entirely possible, especially considering she really didn't want to deal with him in the first place.

( i have more important priorities than this post but i decided to reply to it tonight anyway just because i got some inspiration from reading the last two replies xD not enough to make a good post buttttt oh well )</sup>

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The tom felt his skin crawl beneath his pelt. This was ridiculous. He didn't have a choice. Either he would stay in camp and starve, or he'd have to put up with two, squabbling she-cats for the next hour. A heavy, over-exaggerated moan left his mouth, "Fine." The word was deep and loathing. Blazingpaw wanted to get something out of this hunt, perhaps a life-lesson, or friendly conversation, but now that seemed impossible. First off, he was stuck with miss optimistic - the apprentice was entirely too enduring and got on his nerves. Skypaw was always up for some adventure and genuinely enjoyed life. It was nauseating. And second, he had to deal with Whitesmoke. She was Shadowclan's very own freak. He remembered watching her move around camp like an apparition as a kit. There was something off about her. The warrior was perfectly fine, albeit female, on the outside, but internally he could see her spasm. She was, excuse his rogue, fucked up. The tom gave her a seething glare as she continued to speak about him in excessive third person, "I'm right here, you know." "Stormstar could care less about what I do." He added for good measure. It was true. Blazingpaw was close enough to becoming a warrior he could taste it. He was sitting at fourteen moons. Most apprentices were warriors at this age. Unfortunately, most apprentices hadn't wasted as many moons back-talking as he did. He was sure the first couple moons were spent cleaning the elder's den and sweeping the camp. Stormstar was quick with his punishments but Blazingpaw made sure to leave a sting. He wasn't going to let someone boss him around - Stormstar wasn't an exception. The tom furrowed his brow as he watched Whitesmoke take control and leave with his patrol. A snarl trembled beneath his maw. "What are you doing?" The words landed on empty ears. The she-cats were already padding out of camp, leaving Blazingpaw in their dust. Embarrassment crawled at the base of his neck, making his cheeks hot. Angry and bitter, Blazingpaw broke into a brisk trot, what was worse being led by a she-cat or being left behind by one? [bg=a99a8d]

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If there was something Marshpaw wasn’t all that good at it was being stealthy. He was entirely too large for the majority of low lying shrub of his homeland and was often too occupied keeping his limbs at bay to focus much attention elsewhere. And elsewhere was mainly the radar of his prey. Far too often had the bulging lick of a frog’s lids over their eyes been the last he had seen of the creature, their folded bodies quick to disappear in the muck of the marsh beneath his feet. At least frogs could be run down to a degree - he had been even less successful in his endeavors on the warm bodied mammals in his hunting sessions with Runningthorn. It was partially this fact, he figured, that had him and his mentor on such awkward terms. At the very least they seemed to be such a pair, for while the tabby she-cat was as pleasant as her face had been misleading they were so very different. They had met with a terrific crash of quiet passivity and boundless energy in their few sessions together which, ultimately, lead to Runningthorn meowing his ear off in an attempt to stem the silence he would let linger; it was almost humorous how his company so doused her fire. Perhaps his only redeeming quality as an apprentice was that she didn’t have to worry about his manners or will to follow orders - that at least he was very good at. He figured the shecat was probably retracting her excitement at having an apprentice -although being granted one at such a young age when there were other senior officers available perhaps spoke enough to her- once she figured out he was just as big, awkward, and seemingly mindless as some of the other cats had mentioned under barely baited breath. It seemed so with how much she checked for his attention while teaching; he was surprised he hadn’t grown weary of his name yet with how much she meowed it. It’s not as if he could complain though, for as far as his reports went he was a pretty abysmal apprentice at the two moon mark. Completely useless they probably said. Which for hunting, mostly, he pretty much was. So here he was, sent back to the camp by the young tabby warrior, after yet another failed session of stalking lessons; tired but probably no where near as frustrated as his mentor. She was the one the others had expectations of anyway; there wasn’t much disappointment to grind on his shoulders other then his own for it to be unbearable. Noon-high left the ground relatively dry and spongy, the brambles of the camp walls a welcome sight among the sparse trees. He had a good hour’s worth of dried sludge worked between his toes from the practice and even if it blended into his coat rather well it certainly felt less like it belonged. He broke his long strided lope to an ambling trot, not entirely eager to come back to a fresh-kill pile with nothing to add. He had come back like this far too many times, although he was sure this time he wouldn’t be subjected to the small talk that drifted between his more capable mentor and older clanmates on his apprenticeship. They had already learned to go to Runningthorn if they wanted an interactive explanation of their activities. Slowing the young tom eventually ground to a halt, tail flicking as he considered his options. He wasn’t all that keen to go out alone - he still hadn’t quite gotten the lay of Shadowclan land in it’s entirety but he figured being asked on a hunting patrol with the level of success he’d been having not all that likely. A small twinge was all of a grimace he let himself have - he would have to press himself on a patrol then, if one was being made. Giving himself a small shake he picked up his pace again. Either way he would know what judgements he would have to face once he got back into camp. As it turned out, he didn’t have to travel quite that far. The short tunnel of brambles that lead into the heart of the camp wasn’t long, but apparently it was neither short enough for the two cats to take note of the other approaching and make way. Marshpaw found himself chest to head with another clanmate. His chest to her head, respectively. Stepping back he waited for her name to catch up with him while he blinked down at her. He wasn’t an altogether expressive individual, his face an atonement to this fact, as he looked about as startled as a cat sunbathing at their near collision. Whitesmoke. His eyes moved past to the two cats coming up behind the long haired warrior. They flashed with recognition a few blinks later. Skypaw and Blazingpaw. Apprentices, their names came quicker to him. He guessed sharing a den would do that to one’s mind - no matter how few words they ended up speaking to one another in the end. A border patrol wasn’t in the habit of outnumbering apprentices to warriors and though it could have been a clanmate helping out a fellow mentor -taking on multiple apprentices for a short time wasn‘t uncommon- he doubted Whitesmoke would be that cat. Nothing against the white warrior of course, it was simply that she didn’t have an assigned apprentice herself as of yet. She wouldn’t had been saddled with another young cat unless she had, most likely. “I’ll join you.” So, a hunting patrol it was. ---------------------------------------------------------- OOC // hope I'm not imposing on the thread or anything by joining. And yeah, a lot of it is a babbling needless mess, so sorry bout that ^=^' [bg=977358]

''I'll join you''

a little voice made that made Skypaw turn to see who it was. Skypaw felt a smile come to her face when she saw it was Marshpaw. Giving a purr she mewed, ''Glad you can join!'' She hoped whitesmoke didn't mind. The more the better. It was actually nice having marshpaw now in the group seeing she didn't have to listen to mr complainer in the back. At least she had someone who she can talk to with out having a cat bite her head off at every little thing she said. She offered the welcoming apprentice to walk by her but she didn't mind if he chose to stay in his own space or be with Blazing paw. Padding after the warrior she picked up her pace seeing she was still small and her steps weren't as big as the warriors yet. Following whitesmoke out of the camp she kept her eyes and ears opened for whatever was to come.

ooc: blah sorry