Post by loon on Apr 6, 2020 2:21:07 GMT
Poplarpaw stared into the dark den, where his friends and the other apprentices slept beside him. He glanced over to Darkpaw, and at the mere thought of the rude cat his ears flattened against his head in a flurry of anger, bitterness, and most of all, shame. I can't believe I ever thought he'd be a friend.
The apprentice stood from his nest, resolutely stepping out into the open, glancing around him.
Poplarpaw quietly snuck to the edge of the island, leaping into the water without a moment's hesitation and swimming to the other side.
He shook out his pelt, and stepped onward in a bitter confidence, sights set on the cliff that had been the subject of many's demise.
This was the most sure of himself he had felt since that morning.
He wasn't going to lie to himself, he knew what lay dormant in his subconscious, and after today, he didn't care if it took him over.
As the young tom got closer to the cliff, he thought over the events of his day;
Poplarpaw had tried to talk to his sister, Geckopaw. He missed her a lot, if he were honest. She took one look at him, face unreadable, before turning to her friends and laughing. He tried to tell himself it wasn't about him, but the possibility that she and her friends were laughing at him plagued his mind all day.
Later in the day, he tried talking to Darkpaw again. He should have known it was a worthless attempt, yet he still held out hope that his fellow apprentice wasn't truly as cruel as he seemed. Now he knew better, but not before he got talked down into the dirt. Poplarpaw ended up getting a monologue on how much of an annoying loser he was.
How he'd only ever be an annoyance to the clan, and that'd he'd likely never amount to anything. An exact quote would be, "You realize no one actually likes you, right? You're annoying, clumsy, and dumb. I can't believe they even let you become an apprentice."
That wasn't even the entire thing, either.
And finally, what had been the last straw. He had been hanging out with his friends, Boltpaw, Mushroompaw, and Tidepaw, this was supposed to be his safe space.
They had just been joking around, teasing one another, generally just being kids.
Logically, Poplarpaw knew none of it was serious, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that their words had some underlying message.
He had made some dumb joke, and was met with groans of annoyance and some yaps of "Shut up!", "Get out!" and "You are so dumb!" All clearly said playfully, and it was no different than it ever had been, but this time it felt different.
He didn't like this feeling. Not one bit. It was as if their reactions to him were just confirming Darkpaw's hateful words.
He excused himself from the conversation hastily, and slept off the remainder of the day.
Finally, his front paws curled over the edge of the cliff, and Poplarpaw stared down into the harsh abyss below, expression hardened, yet trembling. Waves crashed harshly against the rock, and the breeze was strong. Had he been any younger, he probably would have been flung by the wind.
He felt called to the water.
A pit formed in his chest, a painful pressure of his emotions.
Tears that he hadn't even realized formed fell, and the young cat swiftly turned away from the edge, stalking back down the hill and returning to camp, feeling drained with little to no thoughts in his heads, but his emotions still raged on in a storm.
Poplarpaw swam back to the island in which Shellclan's camp resides, and curled into himself under a short palm tree.
The moon was still high in the sky, surely he would have enough time to drain himself of his tears before slipping back into his nest.
Wordcount: 658
The apprentice stood from his nest, resolutely stepping out into the open, glancing around him.
Poplarpaw quietly snuck to the edge of the island, leaping into the water without a moment's hesitation and swimming to the other side.
He shook out his pelt, and stepped onward in a bitter confidence, sights set on the cliff that had been the subject of many's demise.
This was the most sure of himself he had felt since that morning.
He wasn't going to lie to himself, he knew what lay dormant in his subconscious, and after today, he didn't care if it took him over.
As the young tom got closer to the cliff, he thought over the events of his day;
Poplarpaw had tried to talk to his sister, Geckopaw. He missed her a lot, if he were honest. She took one look at him, face unreadable, before turning to her friends and laughing. He tried to tell himself it wasn't about him, but the possibility that she and her friends were laughing at him plagued his mind all day.
Later in the day, he tried talking to Darkpaw again. He should have known it was a worthless attempt, yet he still held out hope that his fellow apprentice wasn't truly as cruel as he seemed. Now he knew better, but not before he got talked down into the dirt. Poplarpaw ended up getting a monologue on how much of an annoying loser he was.
How he'd only ever be an annoyance to the clan, and that'd he'd likely never amount to anything. An exact quote would be, "You realize no one actually likes you, right? You're annoying, clumsy, and dumb. I can't believe they even let you become an apprentice."
That wasn't even the entire thing, either.
And finally, what had been the last straw. He had been hanging out with his friends, Boltpaw, Mushroompaw, and Tidepaw, this was supposed to be his safe space.
They had just been joking around, teasing one another, generally just being kids.
Logically, Poplarpaw knew none of it was serious, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that their words had some underlying message.
He had made some dumb joke, and was met with groans of annoyance and some yaps of "Shut up!", "Get out!" and "You are so dumb!" All clearly said playfully, and it was no different than it ever had been, but this time it felt different.
He didn't like this feeling. Not one bit. It was as if their reactions to him were just confirming Darkpaw's hateful words.
He excused himself from the conversation hastily, and slept off the remainder of the day.
Finally, his front paws curled over the edge of the cliff, and Poplarpaw stared down into the harsh abyss below, expression hardened, yet trembling. Waves crashed harshly against the rock, and the breeze was strong. Had he been any younger, he probably would have been flung by the wind.
He felt called to the water.
A pit formed in his chest, a painful pressure of his emotions.
Tears that he hadn't even realized formed fell, and the young cat swiftly turned away from the edge, stalking back down the hill and returning to camp, feeling drained with little to no thoughts in his heads, but his emotions still raged on in a storm.
Poplarpaw swam back to the island in which Shellclan's camp resides, and curled into himself under a short palm tree.
The moon was still high in the sky, surely he would have enough time to drain himself of his tears before slipping back into his nest.
Wordcount: 658