Dark Feathers [solo]

The moons had passed quickly with Crowpaw as an apprentice. Before even he knew it, the lanky tom was filling out, becoming more well-proportioned and less goofy looking adolescent. He still had the telltale long-limbs that his WindClan heritage had marked him with, but more and more each day, it was very clear that his time as an apprentice was coming to an end. Crowpaw didn't mind either way - he had fun with Pinefrost as his mentor, and the nuances between apprentice and warrior meant nothing to him. He served his clan just as well with -paw at the end of his name as he would with something different. But it meant more to others, that he knew, for him to become a warrior, and so Crowpaw worked hard.

This particular night, he was out alone, and his paws found him traveling the path to the Owl Tree, where he slumped down on to his belly to relax for a moment, and remember. It had been one of the first training sessions that Pinefrost took him on, when they brought down the owl in this very spot. He could still remember the scent of blood, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the surge of pure elation as they conquered the feathered beast. That was only days before he'd learned about his father, Smallbean. A WindClan cat. Crowpaw still wasn't sure exactly how to feel about that particular set of events... he knew that his half blood heritage didn't make him any less of a loyal ThunderClan warrior, and it was hard to miss a father who had never been around, but Crowpaw knew that it hurt his mother, even if she tried not to show it. And that bothered him.

As he lay there, the sound of movement caught his attention on the other side of the tree. Crowpaw lifted his head, yellow eyes wide. He crept to his paws and slunk silently around the trunk, where a bird was huddled near the Owl Tree's winding roots. Without waiting, he sprung.

obligatory dice post

The member 'JJ' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 4

Crowpaw landed atop the bird with a practiced ease, claws sinking into feathers. The bird was a crow, and that much information was enough to still his killing bite for a moment, long enough for the apprentice to pull back and observe the bird from which he was named. It was young, that much he noticed, with tufts of downy feathers still here and there. Its wings, which beat frantically against the tom in effort to escape, were dark and sleek, shifting colors between midnight blue and black in the moonlight.

In a half moon, this crow would have all its adult feathers. It would be ready to set out on its own, no longer under the scrutiny of its parents, who were absent now, in its time of need. "Do you have both your parents?" he whispered to the bird, and it replied with piteous grunts, still struggling to escape what would have been certain death were Crowpaw any other cat.

He didn't expect an answer, and yet still when the bird kept its secrets, Crowpaw was almost disappointed. Did crow mothers love their children as much as Cedarheart loved them? Would this one's parents mourn it once it was lying, dead, upon ThunderClan's cache. Crowpaw didn't know the answer to that question, and he imagined that no one else did, either.

This, too, troubled him.

Finally winded by the ceaseless attempt at escape, the crow slumped, exhausted, and looked at Crowpaw with a beady, half-lidded eye.

"Don't tell anyone," Crowpaw whispered, and retracted his claws. The moment he drew away, the young bird rolled and popped up, its wings fluttering, feathers sticking all out, and panted, its tiny, pointed tongue just visible. It was there only a heartbeat or so before, with a few frantic flaps, it was gone. Crowpaw stared after it, his tail twitching.