Post by Heron on Apr 12, 2015 21:30:31 GMT -5
Heron* Tag me if I don't reply in a few days @ otterfoot | IT'S SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST RICH AGAINST THE POOR. Fernpaw looked at the other apprentice and let out an obvious shudder. Birds! Fernpaw was a rather small cat, and she felt like she could be easy picking for a hawk or an eagle to swoop by and take her. She let out her claws and they dug into the ground as she walked, the young she-cat looking up into the sky out of nervous habit. She scanned the top of the trees and let out a breath of relief that there were no hawks soaring around. She let her claws continue to scrape the dirt, afraid that the moment she retracted them she may very well need them. "Birds...could you imagine?" She said, voice in awe and shock. "Maybe it's even Twolegs! but I doubt Pebblestar would let them take her; she would put up a fight a Two-leg never seen!" Fernpaw purred admiringly. She looked at Leopardpaw and felt her fur ruffle. When, now she seemed like an even bigger mouse-brain. To her, the leader was the one with the true power set by Starclan to choose who could be made warriors. Did Leopardpaw mean she wouldn't care if Briarclaw led her warrior ceremony? Fernpaw felt as though Pebblestar should be the one, always. With a sad realization, the younger apprentice came to the conclusion that Briarclaw could become Briarstar. She sped up pace, trotting farther from camp. "I just admire Pebblestar so much," she confessed innocently. "Imagining anyone taking her place is hard." She leaped forward, not waiting for the cat to respond, but it was clear that Fernpaw was upset at the lack of knowledge the clan had about their beloved leader. As each day passed, she couldn't help but get the feeling that she would never see Pebblestar again. And if she did, it wouldn't be good. /td] |
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