#sorrel scrawls

[sorrelstream]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Warriors - Erin Hunter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Crowfeather/Leafpool (Warriors), (past) Characters: Squirrelflight (Warriors), Leafpool (Warriors), Brambleclaw (Warriors), Ashfur (ThunderClan) Additional Tags: Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

"Then you can train someone," Squirrelflight suggested. "If we tell Firestar now, you'll still have two moons left to teach someone else."

"That's not enough time," said Leafpool.

"It can be," argued Squirrelflight. "If you would just choose someone who was already interested. You have assistants that help you out, pick from them."

"You don't understand," Leafpool hissed, finally at her breaking point, as she rounded on Squirrelflight. "I don't want to step down. I care about this position. I care about being a medicine cat! It’s important to me. If I had wanted to be a mate and a mother, then I would have stayed with Crowfeather.”

 Or, a retelling of Leafpool's Wish through Squirrelflight's perspective, and with a few plot tweaks.

#yeah #squirrelflight #leafpool #my writing #sorrel scrawls #what was my writing tag i cant even remember anymore</3 sigh

[ink-whiskey-seats]

PAINT ME WITH OZ???

Oz shifted just a little, attempting to get some kind of circulating moving through his slightly numbed legs, but Jules opened an eye halfway, halfheartedly glaring at him and made a soft noise fo discontent. He smiled and patted their shoulder, slowly moving the hair away from their face and chuckling as they fell back asleep. 

“Don’t move,” Rowan scolded gently, not looking up from his sketch pad. 

His dark skin was smeared with charcoal, covering up his freckles and giving him half circles, almost like the base of a masquerade mask. Oz snorted and rolled his eyes but leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

“Remind me why you’re drawing me?” he murmured, careful not to wake Jules again. 

“Because I can,” Rowan retorted, almost petulant. “If I wanted a reason though, I could give you a thousand.” 

“Oh gods, please don’t,” Sil groaned playfully from where she’d laid herself out in a sunny patch, eyes shut lightly.

Her skin was slowly returning as the characteristics of the bear she’d transformed herself into shrank away. Her mouth was too full of teeth still and there was a low pop as her jaw shifted and she opened an eye, exhausted smirk pulling at her lips. 

“Don’t go spouting off about how much you love our resident idiot,” 

Rowan didn’t respond, just laughed softly and continued to draw. Sil huffed and closed her eye, stretching her naked body lazily, sighing as her spine popped back into proper alignment. 

“Has anyone seen my clothes?” she asked and Oz pointed to a neatly folded pile of pants and wrap, not opening his eyes. 

"Ah,” She stood, pausing by Rowan’s shoulder, leaning over and looking at the drawing.

He looked up every now and again, finely sketching slim shadows against Jules’ shoulder and moving their side, then moved up to Oz’s shoulders, catching the folds on his cloak and the shadow cast by his staff. She smiled and squeezed his shoulder once before she went to get dressed. Her pants were baggy and loose, and as usual, she refused to wear a shirt, instead wrapping her chest in thick cloth and folded her cloak over her arm, leaving her leather armor for the moment. 

“Has anyone seen Tryus, Aria and Sorrel?” Oz asked as Sil dressed. 

“Mnhm. They were down by the river, washing up,” Rowan mumbled before he fell silent once more. 

Oz hummed as Sil began to stretch out her overtaxed limbs, sighing as her joints popped and shifted. Rowan began to hum, low and rolling deep in his chest, as he continued to draw. It helped slow the shake of his hands and centred him more than simple meditation.

The death toll of the small village had been high, and though he’d already seen the lost souls of those trapped in their half golem prisons, he still felt the need to pray for them. He was the only one who still would it seemed, in the end of all the terrible fighting they’d come across as they slowly made their way towards the castle. Sil stretched out beside him, just barely touching his leg as she stretched out in the blood free patch of grass.

Distantly, the chatter from Sorrel and Aria reached them as the trio returned, Tryus’ booming laughter filling the air. It had been a grim day, but they hoarded the moments of levity and calm where they could. This was one such moment. Rowan looked down at the drawing he’d done and smiled, still humming a prayer for the Lost.

It was a beautiful sketch, even he had to admit it, his lover and his friend reclining on the last remaining stable porch stairs, the house a little run down but still functional. Oz was half laying against the top three stairs, his left leg stretched out and his right bent so to create a pillow for Jules, who was half sprawled against him. Their rabbit was tucked up on their back, resting against Oz’s stomach and Jules’ neck, ears drooping and sprawled much like Jules was. Oz’s hand as half buried in Jules’ long hair, tucking it behind their ear as his other was wrapped around the middle of his staff, just the tips of his fingers. Rowan sighed and smiled sadly, and after a moment, scrawled, 

An afternoon’s rest after fighting

Underneath the piece. It was just a reminder, something to keep him on track for the days to come. They were all sore and exhausted, and likely wouldn’t be able to move until the next day at the latest; Jules and Tryus had been exhausted, and Sil could transform into a beast to carry them if she had the energy but it would be dangerous and she could just as easily drop to the ground, and Rowan could still sense the Lost that lingered and knew he’d have to help them along. He looked up, meeting Oz’s gaze and smiled. 

“Will you show me?” he asked and Rowan nodded, still humming his prayer.

At this point, it was more for his own comfort than actually helping the Lost move on. They were further away, lingering around the broken gravemarkers and ruined homes, and he couldn’t bring himself to move much further than the porch. He stood, groaning as his own stiffened limbs creaked and made his way over, sitting on the opposite side of Jules, and flipped his journal open to show Oz the drawing.

The other man just gave a sad smile and leaned his head against Rowan’s shoulder, sighing. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Jules patted Rowan’s knee, finger tracing along his thigh,

Show me when I can see straight? 

“Of course I will Jules,” he murmured, keeping his voice down for them. 

Thank you. Keep humming your prayer?

Rowan smiled and patted their shoulder, then picked back the low hum, feeling Oz relax further against him. They all had their ways of relaxing, checking in with the other after the inevitable fights started, the blood and gore filling the air. Moments like these were rare.

He wiped the charcoal away from his cheeks, scrubbing a little harder since it was caked there with sweat and probably blood. He knew he’d have to clean up in a moment. He looked down at the drawing and smiled a little, curling his fingers a little to try and work out the remaining tremors, then picked up his pencil and started to draw Sil as she laid out like a cat in the sun. He would draw until the tremors stopped, and then deal with things. 

#the wizard and the crow #aria vicroy #jules torsich #sil lian #tryus port #sorrel #oz lilar #rowan fell #ask meme

[the-knights-who-say-book]

“hello,” the dark lord said, “i need a library card.”

“everyone needs a library card,” the librarian said brightly, sliding a form across the desk. “fill this out.”

the dark lord produced her own elaborately plumed quill from the depths of her robes and scrawled her name in handwriting that was completely illegible but seemed to whisper the secrets of the dark from the blinding white page. “yes, but i need mine in order to take over the tri-kingdom area.”

the librarian’s polite smile barely faltered. “funny, the last dark lord to try that didn’t bother with a card.”

“yes, and do you see that fool currently ruling our kingdom? no. of course not. utterly ridiculous, to attempt to take over any size country without a library card, much less an intermediate-sized one like this.” she accepted the thin plastic card with a gracious flourish of her gloved hand.

the librarian, adding the new card’s number to the database, privately agreed, but chose not to say anything.

the librarian balanced the pile of pulled books under one elbow and held the list of call numbers in their hand for easy consultation. “intermediate spell casting for grades three and four,” they murmured, running fingers along the peeling spines until they found it. “willing to bet that’s sorrel’s request.”

they fit the large, paperbound book under their elbow and moved on, checking the list again. “magical creatures encyclopedia, L through M. that’s jackaby trying to finish the entire set by midsummer.” they would get that one last to carry it around the shortest amount of time.

“next — the complete guide to raising the dead.” they paused in front of the row of shelves with the right call numbers. they could guess the requester of that one too, but knew better than to say it out loud.

the return slot thunked loudly as it swung open and closed, having swallowed the returned books with a wet gulp.

“good morning,” the dark lord said pleasantly as she looked up from sliding her books in — or as pleasantly as “good morning” could sound when it was uttered by a voice that sounded like gravel being chewed to pieces by the jaws of a large monster.

“it is, very,” the librarian said crisply, conjuring a clean handkerchief for the still-slobbering return slot.

the mouth just visible under the dark lord’s enormous cloak hood curved into a scythe’s blade smile, but she said nothing else.

“did you enjoy your books?” the librarian asked, since she wasn’t moving and there were no other people waiting (most likely because of the dark lord standing there).

the hood nodded up and down. “extremely. especially the taped lecture by doctor dramidius ardorius of the dark arts institute.”

“well, we have many more taped lectures. i especially recommend the one on the healing powers of tea.” they tilted their head in a now get out sign. the poor steam-powered self-checkout contraption would get overheated if people were too scared to check out at the front desk.

they didn’t really expect the dark lord to take the recommendation seriously, but the next day they noticed the cloaked, hooded specter glide out the door with the taped lecture on magic-infused herbal teas tucked between a CD of dark chants and a step-by-step art book on drawing occult symbols.

“you give good recommendations,” the dark lord said with a shrug when the librarian raised their eyes from the front desk’s computer to the shadows of her hood.

the librarian wasn’t sure what to say. “you seem to take up quite a lot of my time.”

“i’m only a simple library patron,” the dark lord replied in a saintly voice that resembled a dragon coughing up a partially digested house. “do you enjoy mermaid song?”

“yes. you can find the library’s collection in the CD section over there.” they looked pointedly back down at the computer.

“i hear there’s a concert on the shore tomorrow evening.”

“perhaps we’ll get a recording of it.”

the dark lord continued taking out books on various unsavory topics. the librarian continued suggesting books on healing, positive thinking, and community service. the dark lord seemed more amused with each visit. her smile was almost charming, once you got past the long, sharp teeth.

the librarian was trying to go about their usual morning ritual of pulling books that had been requested the night before, but the dark lord wouldn’t stop making faces at them from behind gaps in the shelves. she seemed to find it hilarious. the librarian hadn’t decided yet if they were amused or annoyed.

“ooh, look at this,” the dark lord said, pulling a sturdy but beaten up board book featuring a werewolf mid-transformation on the cover from the shelf. “this was my favorite when i was just a little menace.”

“somehow i’m not surprised.”

the dark lord tucked the book into the ridiculous basket made of a large skull that floated alongside her. “didn’t you have a favorite picture book when you were little?”

“Barker the Sentient Book End,” the librarian said promptly. “i screamed for it every night until someone read it to me, long after i’d already memorized each page.”

the dark lord cooed, sounding like a cross between an owl and something eating an owl. “adorable. i knew you had a little monster in you somewhere.”

the librarian crossly debated denying being a monster at all or pointing out they had actual kraken blood in them.

they should have guessed how close the dark lord was from how good her mood was, but it wasn’t until they arrived at work on monday that the librarian heard the news.

“the newest dark lord managed to overthrow the faeyrie monarchy last night. something about combining traditional herbal spells with a newfangled mental magic based on the power of willful thinking… or something. the news reporter mentioned the use of mermaid song in a mild kind of mind control, i think? i wasn’t listening. the good news is, our budget stays in place.”

the librarian contemplated hurling the can of bookmarks across the room, but concluded that it would be both unprofessional and unsatisfying. they settled for aggressively stamping returned, only slightly saliva-covered books with red ink.

the phone clicked loudly. “public library, how can i help you?”

“by taking my offer,” the dark lord said, slightly hesitant voice like a rock slide that wasn’t sure it was ready to slide. “the royal library in the capital needs a new head librarian.”

“why’s that?” the librarian spun in their new swivel chair, tangling the phone cord while they were at it, thinking they wouldn’t want to leave so soon after getting it.

there was a cough like the ocean spitting out a new island. “erm, hmm, last one got… eaten. tragic. these things happen when you’re very, very small, you know.”

“so i’ve heard.” the librarian stretched the phone cord and watched it bounce back. “well, i’m happy where i am.”

“well.” her voice was more disappointed than they’d expected. “it’s a very nice library, you know. large selection of mermaid song in the CD section.”

“the royal library is part of our system. i can request any materials from there that i want to be delivered here.”

a pause. the dark lord had not considered this. “well, maybe i’ll take the royal library out of the system.”

“you wouldn’t dare disrupt the workings of our very intricate library system set up at the dawn of time.”

“maybe i would!”

“no.”

“fine. i wouldn’t.”

the librarian swiveled some more, wrapping the cord around with them until it ran out of give and spun them in the other direction. “would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

“yes,” the dark lord said, voice too surprised to resemble anything in particular. “i can travel down meet you tomorrow morning.”

“don’t you have things to do?”

they could sense the shrug from the other end of the line. “i’ll move the capital to your town. i can do that, you know. i’m the supreme ruler of the tri-kingdom area.”

“yes,” the librarian agreed, un-spinning to return the phone to its cradle. “just don’t forget who gave you the library card.”

#and i present to you all what i did last night instead of being productive #short story #dark lord #library #librarian #my writing #my story #the dark lord and the librarian

[impossible-rat-babies]

A open note with childlike, messy scrawl is written in a surprisingly eloquent manner:

Inquisitor Nemphis,

As you have undoubtably noticed, my circumstances are curious to say the least. Miriam and I didn’t arrive at our present state without a small measure of both acquaintances and those who would cause us harm. Friends and enemies to be simple about it. Normally I would be well equiped to deal with my own affairs, but this circumstance is...odd and unexpected.

Miriam’s father—Sorrell—has heard of the Inquisition from Ansburg and has learned of my own affiliation and has expressed a desire to reconnect with both myself and Miriam. This has caused no end of issues considering his actions directly lead to me ending up within the Circle and my separation from Miriam for five years. Still, he wishes to reconnect and I require your aid as both Inquisitor and as a friend to deal with this matter.

Come speak to me at your earliest convenience.

—Darva

#oc tag #nemphis trevelyan #darva mage companion #oh hey its a codex entry #she would recieve it when entering the war room after a certain amount of approval has been reached #this would open up his personal quest

[electricarmchair]

Nightmarish Hysteria (or Serpentine Saviour)

A genus genius sits at his desk The window open ajar, a burlesque Background scene from the loud sound streets Saccadic to the view and categories Buried in work, the worst procrastinator Does not know the meaning of the word The fervent servant scrawls on sorrel scrolls A friend to the pen with ink in his soul Wisteria petals escape potted sills While hysteria 'cross the cityscape spills Briefly he breathes in the fresh fragrant air Music masking the fragmented affair Enveloped in envelopes, stack of syntax Statistics, screed, and stochastic scraps Piles of caffeine pills and poll-filled pools No pillow for this calligraphy fool Serpentine death scales the ten storey tower The servant unknowing in his final hours Writes about bumallo and assapanick Stopping at buffalo in quivering panic Through the dream hole, with teeth the nightmare sinks Into him pours venom, the soul written in ink Rises from the body in his final breath And the soul is finally at rest

#refinegodliness #poetry #poetryriot #poets on tumblr #poetsontumblr #poets of tumblr #writing #writerscreed #original #original poetry #electricarmchair #creative writing #alt lit #poem #new poets society #writers on tumblr #rhyme #nightmare #snake #serpent #serpentine saviour #nightmarish hysteria #alt poetry #the writer

[sigmaverseproductions]

[Image Description:

Slide 1: A picture of a traditional sketchbook page, with a pair of converses at the top, and the words “The Omen aka Sorrel Grey” written in scrawling print.

Slide 2: A picture of a sketchbook page with a rough pencil sketch of an awkwardly proportioned humanoid. They have short curly hair, an oval shaped face, and a worried expression on their face. They are part dragon, with a pair of large wings and a tail, as well as two pairs of decorative frills for ears. They’re wearing a long sleeved tunic and leggings with a short cloak, gloves, and a pair of converses. One of the person’s hands is by their side while the other is reaching up to adjust their cloak.

Slide 3: A close up of the previous slide, showing the head and torso of the person

Slide 4: a close up of the second slide showing one of the wings.

End of Image description]

Drew some concepty art of my oc! It’s based off of one of my favorite species of dragons in the game flight rising: the fae dragon. They are very pogly designed dragons. And yes, I am aware the proportions are off. That’s why this is a sketch, not a fully completed piece yet.

Also I owe my friend fluff because of this so keep an eye out for that soon…..

Support me on other platforms!

Twitch: imaginarythetasigma

Instagram: underimaginarystars

Artfol: thetasigma

Website

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#traditional art #art #artwork #artist #my art #artists on tumblr #character art #artwork in progress #aroace characters #aromantic characters #original characters #character concept #own character #aromantic artist #asexual artist #trans artist #thetadraws #Sigmaverse Productions #half dragon #flight rising #fae dragon

[dracoqueen22]

[Tethers] Capes and Pants

Title: Pants and Capes Universe: Tethers Characters: Tyrael Ashborn, Tempest Teapot, Dakota Sorrel Rated: K+ Description: Tyrael’s new companions continue to bafffle him in ways he never expected. “What are you doing?” Tyrael tries to ignore the nosy question. He hunches his shoulders and stares harder at the parchment smoothed out in front of him. A few inked lines scrawl across the paper, but words are hard, especially words like these. They have to be the right words, honest, but not too revealing. Truthful, without spilling his heart on the page. He misses Elias, all the way down to his marrow, but a part of him worries Elias might not miss him in return. The distance stretches between them, further and further, with every step Tyrael takes from home. Elias might find another, someone who hasn’t gone on a quest of indeterminable length, and who might die in the pursuit of it. “What are you writing?”

Tyrael huffs and curves his body away from Tempest, attempting to shield the paper from her point of view. “If it was something I wanted to share, I would have told everyone.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not the greatest reader.” Thump goes Tempest’s elbow as she leans on the table beside him. “I was just curious. We’re still strangers, right? We should get to get to know each other.” "For what reason?" Tyrael asks. Tempest wriggles her whole body in a shrug. "Because we're going to be friends." She cranes her neck to try and peer over his arm. "Celeste said you had a boyfriend. Are you writing to him?" Tyrael sighs and scans the common room of the inn, searching the tables full of people engaged in quiet conversation. Easton is off by himself in a dark corner, reading a book while he sips on a tankard, but Tyrael sees no one else from their party. "Where is Dakota?" "He took my pants and went up to our room," Tempest says, and despite himself, Tyrael looks down. She is indeed without pants. Her tunic drapes to mid-thigh, and her boots come up to mid-calf, but her bare, scarred knees are visible to all and sundry. He fears what the world might see if she were to bend over. "Why...?" Tyrael pauses, draws a breath to comport himself. "Why did he take your pants?" And how? Had she simply stripped them off here in the common room? Or had she undressed upstairs and then come back downstairs as if her partial nudity was of no concern? "Because they were ripped," Tempest says in a tone which implies Tyrael is dumb for even asking. She grins and leans forward. "So. Is it a letter to your boyfriend?" "Why didn't you go with him?" Tyrael asks. Tempest furrows her brow, looking genuinely confused. "Why would I? The ale's down here. Watching him fix a rip is boring." She brightens. "Maybe if I'm lucky, there'll be a fight." "Not in this place, I wager," Tyrael says, casting a pointed look around them. It's a subdued inn they've found this time around, full of hard-working individuals too tired after a long day's work to do much more than eat, drink, and engage in quiet chatter. Denize is not a rowdy village which is precisely why Tyrael enjoys it so much. A shame it's only a brief stopover on their way from Marbadan to Port Udousk. "Then conversation it is!" Tempest grins and her whole body wriggles, like a puppy demanding attention. "You still haven't answered my question." Tyrael sighs. The ink has long dried, so he carefully rolls up the parchment once more. "Yes," he says. "I was writing a letter to someone important to me." "Your boyfriend?" Tempest plants her elbow on the table and leans her head against her knuckles. "What's his name?" Tyrael tucks the parchment behind his plate armor. "Elias. He's back home. In Alduin." "Why didn't he come with you?" Tempest asks. "Because this is my quest, not his," Tyrael says. Tempest blinks and her brow furrows again. "Is it Celeste's quest, too?" "She invited herself." Tyrael sits back in his chair and signals the server for another drink. He's going to need one if he's going to get through this conversation. "As for Elias... he had other duties he couldn't abandon to accomplish my quest." "Is he waiting for you?" Tempest asks. Tyrael's mouth opens, then closes. He hadn't asked, because he didn't want a promise neither of them could keep. He certainly hopes Elias is willing to wait, but he also doesn't want Elias to be alone. If he meets someone else, Tyrael wishes them well. Or at least, that would be the honorable thing to say. His heart aches at the idea of letting Elias go. "My quest could take a long time," Tyrael says instead. "If I return at all." Tempest scrunches her nose. "You think you might die?" "It's a dangerous world," Tyrael says. He rubs his wrist where their encounter with a trapworm had nearly cost him his hand. If not for Celeste, he might have been forced to trade in his greatsword for something he could wield with only one hand. "I'm realistic." "I mean, I'm realistic, too, but I prefer to think things are going to turn out okay," Tempest says. She taps her chin, her ears flicking in an adorable manner. It’s hard, sometimes, not to see her as a youth given her behavior. Harder still to know she’s actually older than him. "You really love him, huh? That's nice. I don't really do 'love,' but I think it's nice you have someone." Tyrael furrows his brow. There she goes again, saying something odd as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. "What is that supposed to mean?" Tempest blinks and looks confused. "Um. That I think it's sweet you have a boyfriend?" She sits up and tilts her head. "And I hope you can see him again soon?" "No, I meant the other thing." "What other thing?" Tyrael sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nevermind. I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose. Only time will tell what actually happens." "Just gotta have faith," Tempest chirps, but she leans a little to the left, staring past him, toward one of the table clusters. "Hey, you think he wants company?" "Who?" Gods, she has the attention span of a gnat. Tyrael twists to follow her gaze, seeing a lone elf sitting at a table, soot staining his clothes and cheeks, his worn hands cupping a mug of ale. It's impossible to guess his age, given the longspan of elves, but as to whether he desires company? Tyrael doesn't know. Then again, he hadn't wanted company and that hadn't stopped Tempest. "Maybe?" Tyrael hazards. Tempest grins and hops down from the chair, adjusting her clothes and tugging her tunic a bit open at the lapel, physically adjusting the swell of her chest. "I'm going to find out." Tyrael blinks. "But you're a halfling." "I am?" Tempest's eyes widen in false surprise. Tyrael rolls his eyes. "Fine. I see your point. At least promise me you have protection." Tempest beams at him and pats her side. "Got a dagger right here. Don't leave home without it. Sweet of you to worry though." She tugs at her clothes again, showing even more skin than her unclad legs offer. "Wish me luck." He isn't sure she needs it. She's got confidence oozing out of her, and she struts up with her shoulders raised and a jaunty pep to her step. She swings by the barkeep, gets two more mugs, and saunters right up to the elf's table, sliding the mug down in front of him. They are too far for Tyrael to hear their conversation, but he sees the surprise, and then the invitation in the elf's face. Tempest grins and hops up into the chair, her tunic riding up and showing off an obscene amount of thigh, plus the beginning curve of a buttock. She leans forward, squeezing her bosom between her arms, and yes, the elf's eyes drop to it. Clearly someone is going to have a happy ending tonight. Tyrael pulls out his parchment for Elias and his quill and dampens the tip. He re-reads what he's written already, and manages to add a few lines before the back of his neck prickles, and he registers someone looming a foot or so away from him. He sighs quietly and puts down his quill, looking up to see Dakota standing over him, his face built into a glower, though Tyrael suspects that's merely his default expression. "Where is Tempest?" he asks and only then does Tyrael realize he's clutching fabric which looks like a scarf in his hands, but must actually be Tempest's leggings. "I am not her keeper," Tyrael says, but he tilts his head toward the corner where he'd last seen her. "She's wooing a companion for the night." Dakota's eyes narrow. He looks past Tyrael and sighs. "She must have succeeded," he rumbles and looks exasperated as he balls up the leggings and tucks them into a pouch. Tyrael glances in the corner. Indeed, both Tempest and the elf are gone. "You're not worried?" he asks. Dakota snorts. "She can take care of herself." He looks around the common room, brow furrowing as he lingers on Easton before he returns his attention to Tyrael. "You tore your cloak." Tyrael blinks and follows the line of Dakota's gaze. There is indeed a rip in his cloak, probably from the bramble bush which caught him earlier. His luck has been absolutely terrible since leaving Alduin, from the seasickness to the thievery to the trapworm and now the bramble bush. He sighs. "So I did." Tyrael fingers the fabric. Elias had bought this for him, having commissioned one of the temple wardens to weave it. Tyrael hadn’t worn it before receiving the quest, and Elias had insisted he do so. "Give it here." "Um." Tyrael's hand moves to his clasp before he realizes what he's doing. "Why?" "Do you want the tear fixed or not?" Dakota asks. Tyrael feels like he's in the middle of a conversation he doesn't remember having. "I do, but--" "Then let me have it, and I'll fix it." Dakota holds out his hand expectantly. Tyrael finishes with the clasp and sweeps the cloak from his shoulders. "Thank you. I appreciate that." He hands it over. "This is, um, important to me." "Like the pouch, I wager. I understand." Dakota dips his head into a nod as he accepts the cloak, folding it into a neat square for him to carry. "You'll have it back at breakfast." He offers a two-fingered salute before he lumbers away, the most incongruent thing in this tavern right now. If it bothers him, Dakota shows no sign. He’s probably used to it. Tyrael sighs and rubs his forehead. He stares down at the letter for Elias. He’s been working on it for weeks. He wonders if he’s ever going to finish it. He rolls up the parchment and tucks it back into his armor. He finishes his mug of ale and rises from the table, feeling oddly light without the sweep of his cape. He casts a glance around the common room once more, but even Easton has vanished from the corner, leaving Tyrael the last of the party to retire for the evening. He climbs the stairs to the room he shares with Nym, opening the door as quietly as he can, not that it matters as the gemfling sleeps like the dead and has no self-preservation instincts whatsoever. It’s a terribly good thing he’s attached himself to their party, because Tyrael fears he might not have survived wandering the world alone. It’s not naivete, but a sheer lack of survival instinct. Nym snores; Tyrael painstakingly strips out of his armor and climbs into the bed, under blankets he hopes are clean, but the smell suggests otherwise. He pulls the pillow over his head to muffle Nym’s raucous breathing. They have a long day of travel tomorrow, toward a decision as vague as the quest he’s undertaken. He misses Elias with a terrible ache in the center of his chest. He hadn’t understood the weight of duty until he left Alduin. It’s becoming increasingly clear he hadn’t understood much at all. This is the vow he’s made, however, and he can’t turn his back on Cyrillus. He can only keep moving forward. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll finish the letter. Tyrael closes his eyes and goes to sleep. ***

a/n: Feedback would be absolutely lovely. I’m still building this original world of mine, practicing my characters before I start the main narrative, and I’d love to know what people think!

#original fantasy fiction #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original characters #tethers series #series: tethers #draco writes original fic

[sorrelstream]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Warriors - Erin Hunter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Crowfeather/Nightcloud (Warriors), implied Crowfeather/Leafpool (Warriors) Characters: Nightcloud (Warriors), Barkface (Warriors), Crowfeather (Warriors), Breezepelt (Warriors) Additional Tags: Infidelity, Child Death, Not a ship fic, Beta Read Summary:

She knew it wasn’t true, none of what he was saying was true, deep down, but the Nightcloud that knew the truth was crouched in the furthest corners of her mind, her jaws clamped shut tightly, as the rest of her willed her to believe him. She finally caved, leaning into Crowfeather’s embrace and letting her head fall to the side, resting against his smoky gray side, “Alright. Alright.”

This is a mistake, said the Nightcloud that knew the truth, sitting in the back of her head, he won’t stay for long.

#my writing #sorrel scrawls #howdy! wrote a nightcloud drabble #ive been working on a minnowtail fic on n off so this was a nice little break in between #nightcloud #breezepelt #barkface #crowfeather

[sorrelstream]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Warriors - Erin Hunter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Squirrelflight (Warriors), Ashfur (Warriors), Hollyleaf (Warriors), Lionblaze (Warriors), Jayfeather (Warriors) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Rewrite, basically i rewrote the fire scene but in the setting of my own take on a warriors rewrite, squirrelflight is renamed squirrelstorm, jayfeather is renamed jaynose bc hes a warrior here, also no one really remembers crowfeather fondly, The fire scene Summary:

Ashfur confronts Squirrelstorm while her kits' lives are at stake.

#oops i! did it again #rewrite #rewrite au #sorrel scrawls #was that my writing tag? i think so lol #writing #squirrelflight #ashfur #hollyleaf #jayfeather #lionblaze

[sorrelstream]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Warriors - Erin Hunter Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hazeltail/Hollyleaf (Warriors), its implied/background Characters: Breezepelt (Warriors), Mousewhisker (Warriors), Hazeltail (Warriors), Hollyleaf (Warriors), Heathertail (Warriors), Lilykit, Lilyheart (Warriors), Pinenose (Warriors), Snowbird (Warriors), Dawnpelt (Warriors), Mistystar (Warriors), Petalfur (Warriors), Podlight (Warriors), Podpaw, Leaftail (Warriors), Mossyfoot (Warriors), Hollowflight (Warriors), Spiderleg (Warriors) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, boy HOWDY was i lucky 2 get my top 2 favorite cats lol mousewhisker and hazeltail...luv u wacky kids, this is my take on the ten left au with the random character generator yeeeehaw Summary:

The last of the survivors celebrate the birth of the first litter of kittens since the Dark Forest battle.

#hi sometimes i write #also please ignore the stupid sikeykins username i made this account when i was like #idk.. 13? 14? lol it was a loooong time ago #10 left au #sorrel scrawls #hazeltail #hollyleaf #mousewhisker #breezepelt #heathertail #lilyheart #lilykit #pinenose #snowbird #dawnpelt #mistystar #petalfur #podlight #podpaw #leaftail #mossyfoot #hollowflight #spiderleg

[sorrelstream]

wc au folklore, myths, and legends

The Pantheon

 Vietato, Spirit of the Sun - Embodies: heat, safety, comfort, family

Innamorato, Spirit of the Moon – Also referred to as “Inna”, “Amo”, or “Mora”. Embodies: beauty, creation, dedication, diligence

Sfrenato, Spirit of the Weather – Also referred to as “Fren” or “Ato”. Favored by CrabClan. Embodies: strength, endurance, volatility, untamable  

Crescita, Spirit of the Foliage – Favored by FlickerClan. Embodies: growth, expansion, healing, prosperity

Dyr, Spirit of the Creatures – Favored by FlashClan. Embodies: stealth, good meals, security, gratitude

Via, The Traveller – Said to walk the deceased to their Starlight Trial. They do not represent anything like a Spirit does, and thus many believe Via to be from a different colony than the Spirits.

 Language - WIP

Vietato’s Season – Summer. Named because of the belief that the days grow longer and the nights grow shorter when Vietato hurries their pace with an outburst of energy while Innamorato loses her energy and slows down her pace.

Dyr’s Season – Autumn. Named after the way animals are out more often, collecting as much food as possible before winter arrives.

Innamorato’s Season – Winter. Also called “Inna’s Season”, “Amo’s Season” or “Mora’s Season”. Named because of the belief that the nights grow longer when Innamorato gains energy to pick up her pace while the days grow shorter as Vietato loses her energy and slows her pace.

Crescita’s Season – Named after the burst of greenery and plant life.

Season Cycle – One year.

Passing – One hour.

Starlight Warrior – Deceased.

 Mythology, Beliefs, and Legends - WIP

“History”

-          How the Land was created – Before Land, there was only the Sky. Vietato and Innamorato were Spirits from two different Colonies that were constantly at war with each other over who rightfully owned the Sky. Innamorato created Land so that she and her sweetheart could have a sanctuary to spend their time together when they got the chance. On this land, the two created Sfrenato, their first child. They graduated to a Spirit rank and were able to control the weather based on their mood.

-          Why the Sun and the Moon circle the Land – During one fateful meetup, Vietato and Innamorato were caught by their respective Colonies; the Seers of the Colonies cursed Vietato and Innamorato to constantly chase after each other around the Land they created, but never be able to catch up to one another.

-          The First Cats and Via– WIP. Before being caught, Vietato and Innamorato had another child, who unfortunately was not graduated to a Spirits yank before the curse was set on the Land, and thus was forced to walk the ground as a mortal. They split off sections of themselves into different bodies and created the first group of cats. The original child, Via, settled into death and began to guide those who died to their final resting place.

-          Sfrenato’s Volatile Nature – Before the curse was set, the weather remained constant all year round. However, anguished over the separation of their family and being forced to watch their parents helplessly follow each other and their younger sibling die, Sfrenato grew emotional, and to this day remains just as unpredictable and emotional as the first night.

-          The Creation of the River, Plants, and Creatures – The first night of their departure, the distraught Innamorato wept the entire night, feeling crevices and dips with water, creating the river and water below. Crescita and Dyr, two minor Spirits from the warring colonies, had begun to loathe the endless war and took pity on the young lovers; they fled and brought their talents to the Land. Crescita created endless amounts of greenery, flowers, and foliage everywhere they stepped, and Dyr created from dirt and mud the creatures that cohabited the Land with the Cats so that the Cats would not be lonely. They vowed to work with Sfrenato to keep the Land safe from the Sky Colonies.

-          Night Creatures vs. Day Creatures - Originally, every creature on the Land only remained awake during the night to follow the path of Innamorato, for she created everything and had a unique black-and-silver pelt that was always changing. However, Innamorato began to fear her sweetheart was growing lonely without any company during the day, so she began to convince the original creatures to stay awake during the day as well. Some creatures remained Night Creatures, while others followed Innamorato’s request and became Day Creatures; the First Cats, however, who were the Children of Innamorato and Vietato, felt it unfair to choose one or the other, and chose to balance them out and be both Night and Day creatures.

“Unexplainable Events”

-          Eclipses – Rarely seen, but believed to be the event of Vietato and Innamorato briefly catching up together and spending moments with each other, only to be dragged apart by the curse once more.

-          Weather Change – The weather changes based on Sfrenato’s moods. When sad and crying, rain falls; when happy and content (usually napping), it is sunny. Snow occurs when they are sick, and storms roll in when outraged or upset.

-          TBA

“After Death”

-          Via will take a cats’ soul up to their Trial, where they will be judged by the Spirits and well-known souls from history: either personal history, Clan history, or territory history. If they pass the trial, they are sent to become an official Starlight Warrior in StarClan. If they are too corrupt, they are sent to The Dark Forest.

-          If a cat dies with an unexplained cause or incorrectly explained cause, Via cannot take their soul, and they are doomed to walk the territories until their true cause of death is revealed.

-          Via is afraid of water, and if a cat’s body is not pulled out of the river if they have drowned, then they are stuck at the bottom of the river until their body is pulled out.

#wc #au #sorrel scrawls #uhhhhh idk

[sorrelstream]

Another writing challenge (I’ve got two more planned too!) featuring this prompt: [use the following names]

Miststorm

Frogflower

Starlingfur

(Notes: Miststorm and Starlingfur are both agender; Miststorm uses they/them while Starlingfur uses he/him pronouns

Season cycle = year)

 It was unusually warm for leaf fall.

               Not that Miststorm was complaining, though – they had always preferred the warmth of sunlight on their pelt. They pushed their aging body through the reeds of the elder’s den and settled down in front, tucking their white paws beneath their body, relishing in the doting sun’s warm rays. The reeds rustled as Starlingfur, a black cat that Miststorm grew up with, pushed is way through the den; he padded towards the fresh kill pile, picking out a plump trout before returning to Miststorm and dropping the prey before his denmate.

               “Remember when we were apprentices and we had to deliver prey to elders?” Miststorm reminisnced as their friend settle next to them, resting their pale gray flank against Starlingfur’s own black one. Starlingfur nodded as he took a bite from the trout, and Miststorm continued to talk, “You’d think the apprentices would bring us meals. Since when did we have get our own prey? Our old bones can’t take it.”

               “We’re not that old,” Starlingfur snapped after he swallowed his mouthful of fish, “We only retired last moon.”

               Miststorm couldn’t fight off the smirk that tugged on their maw, “I don’t know why you cling to your youth, Starlingfur.”

               “You know what I don’t know? How in the name of StarClan you of all the cats from out apprentice days were the one to make it to eldership. You were the biggest risk taker.” Starlingfur grunted with a twitch of his tail tip; Miststorm ignored the brief pang as they longed for their old companions, simply going on with the same old grin, “Age has mellowed me. Plus, I always looked forward to the days in the elder’s den. Sleeping all day and getting pampered? That’s the life of me.”

               “You know what else I don’t know? How I still tolerate that stupid grin of yours.”

               “You love me.” Miststorm countered smugly with a grin, and Starlingfur simply snorted, staring hard at the fish between the two of them, “Shut up and eat your trout.”

               As the duo shared their meal, a flash of movement caught Miststorm’s attention. Waxwhisker was hauling herself away from the leader’s den, her graying muzzle lowered and her old green eyes tired as usual. Miststorm’s ears perked, before they leaned forward and nudged Starlingfur, “Did ya hear? There’s a rumor goin’ ‘round that Waxwhisker is gonna retire soon.”

               “About damn time.” A hoarse voice caught the two elder’s attention; a brown spotted tabby pulled herself through her den, a small, wry smirk on her graying muzzle, “She’s older than I am.”

               “You’re the oldest elder, Frogflower.” Miststorm chuckled as Frogflower settled down next to the most recent den additions, “I know, that’s the point. She’s as old as old Plumstar, who’s about – what, two moons my seniors? Old bats.” Frogflower chuckled good heartedly, her old amber eyes sparkling with the mischief she used to hold, “Boy, I sure was a pest to ‘em when we were younger.”

               “Waxwhisker was Plumstar’s first deputy. Stars, she’s been her only deputy. Who do you think Plumstar will pick after her?” Miststorm mewed with a perk of their ears, watching as the old pale ginger tabby began to assort her patrols for the day.

               “What about Waxwhisker’s granddaughter? Hornetflower? She’s a fine warrior.” Starlingfur commented, and Miststorm shook their head slowly, “Maybe. What about Minkclaw?”

               “She’s only three season cycles old.” Starlingfur pointed out with a flick of his ear.

               “So? Hornetflower’s only thee season cycles old, too.” Miststorm countered swiftly, and Frogflower glanced around the camp, “It’d be better for Plumstar to pick a young warrior. She’s gettin’ old, we need a youngster to lead the clan. Up with the times, fresh ideas. Minkclaw and Hornetflower are both perfect candidates for that. Not too old, not too young, they’ve trained their own apprentices. I say it’s fair game.”

               “What if it’s neither of them?” Miststorm joked; Starlingfur lifted his head up, green eyes glimmering smugly as he locked his gaze with Miststorm’s own pale yellow ones, “Wanna make a bet?”

               “You have my attention.”

               “I bet you the biggest fish caught the day after the deputy ceremony that the deputy is either Minkclaw or Hornetflower.”

               Miststorm snickered, “You’re on.”

***

               Three days later, when Minkclaw was standing before Plumstar with her amber eyes shining with honor and pride, Starlingfur was leaning into Miststorm’s ears and whispering, “You owe me the biggest fish caught tomorrow.”

#ailuronymy writing challenge #sorrel scrawls #minkstar #minkclaw #plumstar #hornetflower #ocs

[sorrelstream]

Details for the hollyleaf au

·         Holly + jay are a part of the prophecy, lion is not

·         Holly has the power to have like glimpses of the future and shit, occasionally the past (these are either small glimpses or in the forms of symbolism/metaphors)

·         Holly and jay become warrior apprentices – holly is bracken’s apprentice, jay is bright’s apprentice. Lion is apprenticed to leafpool and trains as a medicine cat

·         Time begins to pass. Holly starts having weird dreams and nightmares over events that haven’t happened yet (and then she starts noticing the events in her dreams happen) and she panics and talks to jay abt it. Jay reveals 2 her his own abilities (walking in dreams/mind communication) and they don’t know what to do abt it

·         They ask lion if hes had anything and hes rlly baffled bc theyre not med. Cat apprentices why r they getting these kind of dreams.

·         Eventually lion gets the message from yellow that theyre the three (by they she means holly/jay, but lion misinterprets it to also include him)

·         He brings it to holly+jay, theyre startled but eventually accept their fate

·         There’s stuff in the middle that I haven’t really had the time to plot out ah!! Mostly sibling bonding + friendship bonds (hazel,holly,honey,cinder are tight af, so is mouse,jay,kestrel, and cinder,lion,berry)

·         Holly ends up finding out cinder her bff is dating heater from windclan and is paranoid and jumpy bc she starts wondering if that means cinder will get in trouble and what would happen 2 cinder

·         Its resolved in the end idk how yet

·         Anyways as they grow older they all get their warrior names, blah blah, there’s the fire scene and the big reveal

·         Ash ends up going 2 the med cat den the next night due 2 a bad cough developing from smoke inhalation, winds up dead the next morning, everyone assumes it was just breathing problems/failure

·         Holly/jay start noticing lion is acting weird, uncomfy, jumpy, and how he starts refusing/making excuses to not go to the moonpool – they come to the conclusion he feels bad abt ashfurs death bc that’s one of the first patients he ever lost

·         The three go into digging abt their parentage – holly receives a vision of a crow landing in the forest during leaf-fall, before taking off again

·         After more sleuthing they all figure out crow and leaf are their parents. Holly is devastated, jay is bothered, and lion is also crushed,

·         Lion has a lot of stress on him rn and the clan is starting to notice fishy things or something abt ashfurs death so eventually lion confesses to holly/jay that he murdered ash by feeding him poisonous herbs. He’s guilty and devastated by his own actions going against the medicine code (NOT abt ashfur tho he doesn’t care at all abt ashfur he just feels like starclan is judging him and the clan will too if they find out) so he runs off before anyone else can find out

·         Holly/jay are devastated but are still handling how to deal with the issue of their parentage

·         Crow, in a petty attempt to ruin leafpools career as a medicine cat, tells everyone that she had an affair and produced kittens – he’s smug bc he knows that in the flawed system even if everyone finds out/is aware crow is the father, none will really do anything because all blame will fall to leafpool

·         Which it unfortunately does which is shitty and sucky but :( leaf can’t really step down though because her apprentice disappeared. Now she just faces constant shame and humiliation (holly notices that leaf is treated much worse than crow and starts getting REALLY pissed bc no one seems to care that crow just took advantage of leafs willing trust/love for him and abandoned her when she was pregnant so most of hollys hate-energy starts getting directed towards crowfeather/windclan)

·         Eventually dove and ivy r born. Dove is apprenticed to cinder while holly trains ivy

·         Lion eventually does return, after living life as a rogue

·         There’s a lot more stuff I need to flesh out here but ah !! on to the end

·         During the great battle things are a bit different?? The whole “dying twice” thing is scrapped – instead, when a starclan/dark forest cat is “killed” in battle, they’re just sent back to their respective residence, but now they can’t walk in dreams or walk among the living

·         Bramble is killed by hawk, lion is killed by ash, ash is then banished back 2 dark forest by squirrel (yes ashfur is in the dark forest finally where he BELONGS), mousefur n millie r killed by df warriors, bracken dies instead of sorreltail, and dustpelt dies instead of ferncloud , fire still dies

crowfeather also dies after trying 2 hurt/attack leafpool and/or breezepelt . nightcloud motherfucking DESTROYS that dickhead

·         After the battle is over its time to start leaving but everyone realizes that thunderclan now has no deputy or leader. Fire’s ghost gets up and walks to holly and touches his muzzle to her forehead, basically appointing her as the next leader

·         Holly goes and gets her nine lives, which are:

o   Brackenfur: Diligence

o   Dustpelt: Trust (bc how he trusted fire despite their obvious differences)

o   Cinderpelt: Appreciation (basically to love her life while she has it and value all her days)

o   Mousefur: Wit

o   Longtail: Sacrifice

o   Honeyfern: Friendship (her and holly were super close, honey and hazel also verged on a romantic relationship before her death. This is just kinda the life given 2 holly 2 like, befriend other clans and make allies and shit)

o   Brambleclaw: Dedication (like his dedication to prove himself 2 thunderclan

o   Firestar: Prosperity

o   Lionblaze: Loyalty (like his loyalty 2 his siblings, even if it faltered a few times)

·         Poppyfrost, berrynose, birchfall, and thornclaw die after the battle (a few days later), bright moves to the elders den w/ cloud after their kits are made apprentices or warriors idk

·         Time goes on. Mousewhisker/jayfeather become mates, hazeltail/hollystar become mates (mouse and hazel are both trans btw !! mouse is a trans boy and hazel is a trans girl bc these are honestly,,, my favorite lgbt wc headcanons ull never not see me make an au or headcanon where either of them aren’t trans like man,,)

·         Anyways mouse and jay have kits, and hazel+holly adopt a pair of rogue kittens (this au’s version of alderkit and sparkkit. Spark is also a trans girl and alder is also a trans boy !!! spark is a ginger tabby n alder is a torbie)

#ahdfusf #yeah #aus #sorrel scrawls

[sorrelstream]

Before getting into the story: The apprentices in the story are mid-apprentice ship to later-apprentice ship moons. Also, warning for strong language.

Following the prompt: [the following quote as a starting sentence]

It all started when something strange washed up on the riverbank.

Well, maybe not that strange – or strange at all. It was just a shell. Literally, just a shell. RiverClan cats had seen those before, even if it was rare to spot them under the heavy amounts of mud, but still. Once in a while, one would turn up.

It was the first shell young Sorrelpaw had ever seen.

“It’s so,” The tortoiseshell paused, feeling for the word, before whispering in awe, “pretty.”

“What is it?” Otterpaw called from further up the bank, keeping as much distance from the river and his own paws as possible. Hollypaw, who was hovering beside Sorrelpaw, simply flicked his ginger tail tip with a snort, “It’s just a shell!”

“That’s it?” Darkpaw called from where she stood beside Otterpaw, before she quickly trotted down the bank to stand in the mud beside the other two apprentices, “Why’d he stop like he just saw the spirit of Riverstar himself?”

“I must’ve seen his eyes.” Sorrelpaw murmured, voice breathy as if he was so stunned by the shell that he couldn’t even breathe; Darkpaw’s gaze flicked over the shell in the mud, before her green eyes flitted back up to the awed tom beside her.

“It’s just a white shell.”

“I’ve gotta take it.” Sorrelpaw declared, and Hollypaw’s green eyes widened with momentary shock; unfortunately, he was barely able to squeak Sorrelpaw’s name before the tortoiseshell tom’s head ducked lower in a futile attempt to grasp the shell between his crooked teeth. There was a defeated sigh from Hollypaw as he watched Sorrelpaw’s reaction with minor disappointment.

“Fuck! Mud!” Sorrelpaw spat, head recoiling with disgust before he twisted around instinctively and spat out the uncomfortable and not-so-savory muck in his mouth at whatever was nearest to him. Which happened to be Darkpaw.

Tufted ginger ears flattened against the back of his head, and Sorrelpaw shifted on his white paws as he watched the dark gray molly’s expression contort into sheer disgust.

“You spat on me! You spat actual mud on me! I’m covered in Sorrelpaw’s spit and mud!” Darkpaw practically shrieked, shaking her head in an attempt to fling the mud on her cheek off. She froze, green eyes narrowed into slits, before she dug her dark gray paws into the soft, mushy mud beneath; Hollypaw shuffled backwards, glancing frantically to where Otterpaw safely stood on dry land. A split second chance –

The mud flung at Sorrelpaw’s face and successfully coated the young tom’s round face, just as the goal had been. A proud smirk twisted on Darkpaw’s expression, and a confused wheeze of a noise managed to escape from Sorrelpaw; the tom turned on his white paws, ginger tail puffing up behind him as he huffed, “Hey! Mine was an accident!”

“Mine wasn’t.” Darkpaw shot back with a tilt of her head. Sorrelpaw puffed out his cheeks defensively, tail lashing behind him, before he reared up and slammed his paws into the wet mud beneath, sending splatters of it splashing in Darkpaw’s direction – and poor, innocent Hollypaw’s.

“Sorry, Holly!” Sorrelpaw mewed, but it was too late, as the larger tom’s ginger ears were already pinned against the back of his head, “I’ll make sure you’re sorry!”

And with that, he jumped forward, pouncing on his smaller friend and knocking him over, pressing him into the damp mud; Sorrelpaw squeaked, meeting Hollypaw with his own forelegs, and the duo rolled to the side, knocking into Darkpaw and sending her to the mud as well.

Otterpaw took a moment to thank StarClan he was safely on the drier land of RiverClan, far enough from the mud tussle going on below. His silent gratitude, however, was withdrawn almost immediately when his eyes locked with Sorrelpaw’s cheeky amber ones.

--

“What in the name of StarClan happened here?” Waspclaw, a golden brown tabby who had only received her warrior name a few days ago, wailed in shock; her thick fur ruffled as she raced down the slope towards. There was a flash of golden brown and white fur as Neritetail, another recent warrior, followed in a much slower gait.

“Looks like a certain group got in a mud fight.” Neritetail commented with a flick of their tail tip, and Waspclaw twisted around to snap at her friend, “I know that’s what it looks like!” The tabby turned back to the thoroughly mud-coated apprentices, “Your parents are going to kill me! There’s a gathering tonight that you four are supposed to attend!” Waspclaw’s tail lashed, and Sorrelpaw piped up, “You won’t have to worry about mine at least!”

The small group fell silent, starring at the muddy tortoiseshell; once he realized the joke about his own misfortunes had fallen flat, Sorrelpaw ducked his head and mumbled something beneath his breath.

Darkpaw was the first to speak up afterwards, “It’s alright, Waspclaw. We’ll just take a dip in the river, it’ll come right off! Our parents will never know!” Before Waspclaw could snap anything to her younger friend, Darkpaw had turned and wadded into the river, with Hollypaw and Sorrelpaw following in silent pursuit. As the trio giggled and snickered about their little game from earlier, Waspclaw watched on with narrowed eyes; Neritetail padded forward to stand beside Otterpaw.

“Aren’t you gonna go join ‘em?” The warrior purred lightly, gaze flicking over the brown and white tom’s mud-covered coat; Otterpaw remained rooted to the grass beneath, amber eyes focused on the water his friends were now paddling in, before he finally dragged his gaze away.

“No, no. I’ll go back to Ma and have her clean me up there. Plus, I wanna stop in and say hello to little Weaselkit.” His voice came out as a sullen mumble, and the lanky apprentice turned and trotted back up the slope towards RiverClan camp. Waspclaw and Neritetail exchanged concerned glances with each other after the wiry tom disappeared from view.

He wouldn’t be made a warrior anytime soon if he was still afraid of water.

#ailuronymy writing challenge #this was fun i wanna write more with these losers #sorrel scrawls #sorrelstream #otterflower #darkstorm #hollycloud #waspclaw #neritetail #weaselleaf