Mantisstar's litter had not gone quite the way she'd expected. Strikekit had been taken away by the rogues, and apparently escaped, but had not returned to her or to MothClan. Wildpaw had vanished on a rainy day. Mantisstar liked to think that he had chosen that day, to slip away without a trace like his brother. The alternatives were the kind of thoughts to keep a mother awake at night. Rampaw had gone not long after, seeming a tad distracted before a hunt and never returning from it. Thinking of all of them, the she-cat couldn't help but wonder if she had somehow misstepped and cursed the entire litter. Maybe she should have handled the situation with their fathers better, she worried, or turned down the deputy position in favor of caring for them.
It should be no surprise, then, that when she saw an opportunity to check in with her son and see if he was okay, she jumped at it. She strode across the clearing to him. "Crouchpaw! Whatever Frostnip's got you doing, drop it. It can't be anything important this close to your assessment anyway. We'll make sure to let him know it was vital leader business that interfered."
Her eyes shone with a mischievous glint, though she didn't look directly into his. The oddly-changing fur that bordered his gaze distracted her. That had never happened to Gossamerheart, though she was all but certain he was Crouchpaw's father. "Come walk with me for a while. I want to catch up."
He wasn't avoiding Frostnip, per say. But the last time they had been working together a tension had been there - an innocuous comment turned into something deep in the pit of his belly and had him lash out in an unfitting way. How many times, on a missed hunt, did someone make the offhanded comment 'what, are you blind as a badger?' And Crouchpaw had flipped. He had yelled, and been punished...and now he was sulking in the Elder's den under the guise of helping fix it's walls.
It had to be really bad - as he didn't like huddling in the dens as much anymore. The shadows all blended together, misting edges together and eventually causing him a headache when he tried to focus too hard. The scent of his clanmates almost burned the inside of his nose in compensation - which didn't help. Still; he was doing his best to plug a hole in the wall and biting back frustated tears when he realized he was in fact just pushing moss around in a corner that needed no plugging at all.
So he was ready for the familiar voice of his mother - his leader. Maybe she had found Strikekit, or any of his other siblings. They would know how to cheer him up - make himself proud. He stumbled over his own paws a bit in a hurry to follow his mother's voice; but at the same time felt a little thrill of panic grip his own chest; had Frostnip said anything? Was he going to get into trouble?"
[/b]"Coming Ma - antisstar!"[/b] He called, correcting himself when he realized he was much too old to be calling her mom anymore. Stepping carefully over a twig he had tripped over on his way in, HE located her particular scent around the swarm of others. At least he could count on his sense of smell to guide him along even when his eyes were tired. "Where are we going?"
Carried Home is a Warriors roleplay forum. We feature four clans - all four of which have futures that heavily depend on what your characters do - as well as a 50 word count minimum on RP posts, and a functioning currency and shop.
While most of the action does center around our four clans, members are also permitted to make loners, rogues, and kittypets. You can also make both StarClan and Dark Forest characters.