Anthro TNP AU! You can see how much fun they’re having
Anthro TNP AU! You can see how much fun they’re having
“while we make each other smile, they wish that they were geeks in love.”
(geeks in love - lemon demon)
it’s a cat family tree
[image description: a digital painting on a transparent background of a cat family tree, including Warriors characters Leafpool, light brown tabby with amber eyes, Crowfeather, dark gray smoke cat with blue eyes, and their tree kittens, lionblaze, a golden tabby longhaired cat with amber eyes, jayfeather, a small light silver tabby with blue eyes, and hollyleaf, a dark smoke cat with green eyes.]
wc fans who accuse nightcloud of abusing crowfeather are so funny. "SHE HIT HIM !!!" she pulled him babe. she pulled him with her claws because she is a cat who does not have hands to grab things with. take a deep breath it's gonna be okay i promise <3
as you may know my jayfeather hc is that he looks exactly like ashfoot n can u imagine when he shows up to his first gathering and ashfoot looks at her son like “excuse me crowfeather we need to have a talk” and drags him off by his ear
She's a jerk throughout Po3, and she's rather bland every other time she makes an appearance.
Squirrelflight and Crowfeather
some crappy tnp doodles to tie yall over lmao
Crow has never found making friends easy. That wasn’t so much a problem for him because, until recently, he never really wanted friends. Too much hassle. His mother had a problem with it though. She used to try and set him up with other members of the track team. Pairings in class, setting up group work after school, even study meet ups with other teachers’ kids. Each ended with the same result. The disappointment lined her face like ridges on a mountain, and Crow found it hard to not feel terrible when he saw the look in her eyes.
“I’m doing my bit, Crow.” She’d said once as they’d walked away from a track meeting that had ended with half the team glaring at Crow as he left. “I can introduce you to people, but it’s your job after that.”
“I never asked you to do anything.” It was true, he hadn’t. He couldn’t look at her as he’d said it.
“I wish you would, maybe then you’d put in a little effort.”
Effort? Effort was just standing around people. Effort was pretending you didn’t notice when people looked at your height and rolled their eyes, smirking. Effort was hearing warnings about not talking to you and not ripping into them there and then.
Crow put in enough effort.
“I don’t want to.” Was all he had said.
Ashfoot just sighed and that, strangely, was just enough for Crow’s teeth to start chattering in the summer air. “Fine. Then you’re on your own.”
She didn’t interfere much after that. Not even a question. Crow had made his point.
She must have been hiding her dismay at his attitude for a while, because every time he came home nowadays Ashfoot was practically jumping with questions.
“What was she wearing? Where’d you go? Did she notice your new haircut? Why don’t you invite her here once and a while?”
Crow held up his hands as if he was protecting himself. “Mom!” He tries to walk by her, but she pulls him down excitedly next to her on the couch. “Seriously! Calm down!” He pats himself over but he doesn’t stand back up. It wouldn’t do much; Ashfoot had a good grip.
“Come on! Tell me! Tell me!”
Crow can’t help but laugh. She looks so bright now. “Mom, we were just studying math. It wasn’t like we were seeing the Moonstone monument or anything.”
Ashfoot rolls her eyes knowingly, “Crow, it’s ten, and it’s a Friday night.” She squeezes his arm so he feels a sharp pinch. “I’m a teacher. You were not just studying."
“What can I say? You raised me right.” He wants to leave it there. The TV is on, some nature documentary plays, he fakes being interested in it to ignore her interest in him.
Her hand leaves his shoulder, she sits back, crosses her arms, her eyes go hard. “One. Two. Three-”
“Oh, really? You’re going to do the-”
“Mom, I’m not some kid any-”
“Six. Seven. Don’t make me reach ten.”
“Honestly, we were just-”
The panic from childhood authority betrays him. He’s vaguely aware that he’s begun to sweat. “Okay! Okay! Stars above, fine!” He ignores the expectant smirk and the satisfied tilt of her head. “We headed around Highstone Street for a little while. There’s some media store that she likes to check out there. Also,” He’s ashamed when he feels his ears go hot. “She wanted us to visit the museum. She said there was some cool new sports exhibit there.”
“Oh, yeah I heard of that!” Ashfoot perks up, “Was it good?”
Crow can’t lie. “They have Wind Runner’s track shoes from when she won the state finals!”
Ashfoot’s jaw drops, “Are you kidding?”
“What colour were they?”
Crow’s grin broadens. It’s amazing to share an interest with a parent. “White with black streaks with grey soles.”
Ashfoot is already on her phone, typing feverishly into notes. “Remind me tomorrow to set up a class trip.”
“Sure.” Crow knows he’ll be recording his mother as she drifts into a fangirl state at the sight of so much sports history. He also knows he’ll be grinning the whole time as his teammates try to configure that the hysterical middle-aged woman is in fact the teacher who could easily take the role of a military drill instructor if asked.
Ashfoot is still typing when she asks, “Did Squirrel enjoy it as well?”
Crow squeezes the sidearm of the couch absently. “I guess.” He shrugs.
“Try to be more convincing.” An octave drop is all it takes to go from cheery to sullen.
He sighs. She probably didn’t enjoy it that much. It was no secret that Squirrel was not a fan of sports. Crow would be surprised if she could even guess where the last Olympics were held. She showed up at his track races, but it was only because they were friends, if they weren’t she wouldn’t set a foot near the field.
“I don’t know.” Crow chuckles. “I don’t really think she enjoyed it, except when we checked out the boxing section.”
“Did she say anything?”
“No. After we saw half the exhibits, I asked her if she wanted to leave. She said no.” Actually, she’d told him to shut up and enjoy himself, and that she wasn’t paying ten dollars to not even see the whole exhibit. Crow kept his mouth shut after that.
Ashfoot sets her phone down, “Well then maybe she enjoyed it. It was her idea, right?”
Crow nods, but he doesn’t believe her words. He’s suddenly worrying: Did he make her go through an hour of boredom? Did she waste her money and time over him? Did she get in trouble with her parents for coming home late? He feels his pulse rocketing and he wets his lips. Should he call her to see if she was okay? Should he apologise for making her act like she was interested.?
“I hope she didn’t mind.” Is all he says.
Ashfoot’s face scrunches up, “Don’t be stupid. She wouldn’t have suggested going if she hated it that much.” She must not like the look on her son’s face. Her arms cross as she leans back in her cushion. “Tell me, how many times have you gone to that media store with her?”
The question catches him off guard. He feels exposed somehow. He thinks for a moment, blowing out air. “Um, three or four times, I guess?” It’s probably more but admitting that feels embarrassing and like he’s backing into a corner.
His mother waves her hand, “And I know that you’re no Leonardo DiCaprio. Did you care when she took you there? Were you annoyed?”
He doesn’t respond. It seems he doesn’t need to as his mother raises an eyebrow. “There you go.” She says, a teacher’s declaration giving her sincere command, but with a lightness only Crow can find some kind of comfort from. “I’m sure she doesn’t care that much. It’s what friends do.” Crow blushes at how it seems his mother needs to explain what friends actually did. “You do things you’re both interested in. It’s not some kind of drama; don’t turn it into one.”
Crow can swear his home life is some kind of soft detention. He knows it’s the teacher in her voice that sounds so convincing. Maybe it’s also that what she’s saying makes sense. There really had been no indication that Squirrel hadn’t enjoyed herself, but there was equally nothing Crow could think of that gave the impression she had.
Maybe his mother was right, that she didn’t need to do either. Perhaps tolerating interests was part of the description.
But he didn’t want her to tolerate these things. He really wanted her to enjoy them. If she didn’t it felt like she was only tolerating him.
He’s silent for too long. He does that when he doesn’t have an answer.
“Oh my stars,” Ashfoot says, her chin digging into her knuckle, “Crow, what’s the worst that could happen? Do you really think she’s going to hate you because she allegedly didn’t like some museum? I haven’t even met her and I know she isn’t that shallow!”
Crow lifts his head an inch. There’s a bitter taste on his tongue. He hates it when people talk to him like he’s an idiot. He hates it more when he truly feels like one. “It isn’t that. I just want her to enjoy herself, that’s all.”
“Again, you’re just thinking that she didn’t.”
“Well, do you know any better?”
His jaw tightens with instant regret. When Ashfoot doesn’t even budge, he feels worse. If she wanted to, she could tear him apart with words. Many students could attest to that. She just sits, thin lipped, a knowing arch over one eye.
He hasn’t shown her any attitude like that for a while now.
It doesn’t take a genius to realise why he’s suddenly defensive.
“Sorry.” Crow mutters.
“God.” Ashfoot crosses her arms, “You do like her, don’t you?”
Crow stiffens up, his heart racing as he turns to his mother. She’s practically convulsing with laughter. The sight of his jaw hanging as well as his burning face must be a hell of a change. There’s no point denying it. He was an open letter to Ashfoot.
“Don’t look like that. You were only ever this happy to have company when Feather was around. And that wasn’t so hard to figure out either.”
A letter that had never been closed to begin with, it seemed.
Crow just resigns, a hand falling over his face while his mother continues to chuckle with a growing delight. “You’re really not helping.” He says grumpily.
“You’re not helping yourself, I think.” She says, remarkably even. “You’re worrying over nothing, I don’t need to say it again. If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just ask her out?”
Now Crow is spluttering, choking, trying to function.
His mother continues to laugh.
“I can’t do that.” Is all he says once he’s managed to keep himself from throwing up.
“Why not? All she can do is say no.”
“Oh, that’s just great! Then we can just forget the whole thing, can’t we?” His voice is poisonous with sarcasm. Enough that his mother’s eyes narrow.
“Watch it.” She warns. “You’re not big enough yet that I can’t treat you like a kid.” Her hand smacks her thigh to prove her point. Crow growls but he sits away with a huff. It feels like he’s going through loops on a rollercoaster. He hadn’t even admitted to Feather that he liked her when he had, not even when he didn’t anymore. He’d wanted too, of course. But just thinking about it was enough of a turn off.
He had always counted himself lucky to even be Feather’s friend. The idea of pushing that luck was like betting your fortunes after winning the lottery. She couldn’t just say no in his eyes. Everything after that would be them forcing themselves to act like it had never happened, that he didn’t feel the way he did. Soon enough, it would be too much for one of them and she wouldn’t even be able to look at him without tensing and turning away.
Those thoughts were a constant thunderstorm. And he didn’t want to risk leaving the safety of his silence.
Those thoughts were no different with Squirrel.
“Look, it would just get in the way. I don’t want to make it awkward between us.”
Crow expects it when Ashfoot rolls her eyes. But it’s smooth and alert instead of tiring. She’s nodding to herself, grunting like she’s heard some old joke for the hundredth time. “Oh, don’t make me hear another story like that.”
“It’s just what your father said.”
It’s like a wasp’s net has been thrown into the room. Crow can’t keep his mouth shut. He hardly ever hears his mother talk about his Dad. He never brought it up either. He’d always assumed Ashfoot wouldn’t want to talk about him. He couldn’t imagine anyone who wanted to be reminded of their dead husband.
Crow’s never been the one to bring him up either. No one really did unless they were talking about him in general. He was a local hero after all. It would be surprising if there was one person who didn’t know about the great runner who had dragged himself, baton in hand, in the State relay just so Tallstar could win it for the region. Doing that had been what caused his early retirement after all; Crow knew what it was like to run with a strained tenon, nevertheless a snapped one.
That permanent limp had been what gave him his nickname.
A nickname he’d worn like the armour of a local hero.
Crow’s classmates hadn’t even known he was Deadfoot’s son before they found out he was Ashfoot’s.
They never talked about him around Crow. No kid hated him enough to rub salt into that wound.
Truthfully, whenever Crow had heard his father’s name, it wasn’t upsetting for him. It was just… strange. He heard teachers and students praise his father’s name, talking about how loyal he was, about what he liked and what he didn’t, and Crow couldn’t even tell what was the truth and what was a mistake.
The crash had happened only a few months after Ashfoot had become pregnant. Crow had never gotten the chance to meet this ‘credit to the city’. To hear all these things, when Crow would not even know his dad’s eye colour without looking in a picture taken before he was born, it just made him feel odd. Not uncomfortable. Just odd.
He was happy his father was someone respected, and he wished he could have met him. But how could he miss someone he hadn’t even known?
Really, the fact he only heard about Deadfoot from all these stories was just another reason Crow pushed himself in track. It wasn’t that he wanted to make his dad’s memory proud or anything, he just felt like it was something he should do. Besides, he enjoyed running. Whether he was as good as the ghost of a name wasn’t really a major concern.
But he’d always felt it was different for his mother. She’d loved him. She’d lost him. She was the only one who really knew who he was behind the highlights.
Crow didn’t dare bring him up around her. Who’s to say his name wasn’t an atom bomb in her mind?
He made sure to never cross that line.
But she’s sprinted over it so effortlessly.
Her head rests against the cushion, eyes soft and sweet on her son. “Me and your father had been friends for years, and it was clear as day that he liked me. I made it pretty clear I liked him too. But it took him nearly a whole decade before he even asked me on a date.” A glitter of amusement sparkles over her. “I’ve had students sweat less after doing a circuit ten times.”
Crow doesn’t say anything. He’s so used to only hearing his father associated with terms like ‘legend’ or ‘hero’ that the idea of him being nervous, of thinking of him with emotions, is like being dunked with cold water.
“I said yes, obviously, but I still grilled him on why it took him so damn long. He said that he was worried of ruining what we already had. I could have punched him. We’d liked each other for that long and he wasted time over something stupid like that.”
He searches her face for some kind of regret, but she’s smiling passively, as if recalling an old joke. There doesn’t even seem to be a trace of nostalgia there. Just clarity. Just life. Suddenly, he feels embarrassed again. He must be obvious as his mother places a hand on his shoulder.
“Why didn’t you ask him out?” Crow wonders out loud.
She chuckles warmly, “I did.” She assures, “Multiple times.” She starts counting on her fingers, “Trips to the bar, circuit meet ups, late-night parties, even bloody walks on a night. I think I was clear enough, thank you very much!” Her voice is rough but still on the verge of laughter. “He was lucky I had the patience of a saint.”
For a moment, even Crow is pulled into how much of an idiot his father sounded like. With all the effort Ashfoot says she put in he can’t get how Deadfoot would ever let those chances slip.
Then he remembers who he is. And he knows how his father felt. He understands it all.
They are more alike than he thought. “It isn’t the same.” Crow turns away. “You knew you liked each other.”
“Not at the start.” Ashfoot says, “I had to let him know.”
“And what if I do?” Crow asks, his voice hardening, “If she says no I’ll just look like an idiot.”
Ashfoot doesn’t avert her gaze, her hand remains on his shoulder. Crow can’t help but feel soothed by the touch. “That’s like asking what’s the point of starting a race when there’s a chance you’ll lose.”
The need to laugh out loud overwhelms him. “Really?” He splutters, “That’s your analogy?”
“It’s right, isn’t it? You’re giving up before you even start. That’s the jist of it all!” Her words sink in because she knows what she’s talking about. “You’re worrying over all this stuff Crow, but the truth is that you don’t have a clue that you’re right or not. Squirrel isn’t the one presuming all these disasters Crow, it’s you.”
“So what do you think I should do then, since you’re the expert?” Crow exclaims, his hands folding behind his head as he rests back, trying to not notice her sudden glare.
“Oh no you don’t.” Ashfoot scolds, slapping him on the shoulder like she was swatting a fly. “You’re old enough to drive! You’re not having your mother sort your messes out for you!”
“Thanks for the help.” Crow mutters, glowering to hide his wounded pride.
“Look, whether or not you want her to be your girlfriend is your own issue, Crow.” She explains, her knees rising up to rest on the cushion beneath her. Her body rotates so she’s looking straight at him. When her eyes twist with what Crow recognises as disappointment, his glare cows. “But after all the time you’ve spent with her, if you still think she’ll just abandon you because she doesn’t share one of your interests, I have to say that I don’t think you respect her as much as she deserves.”
If it was anyone else, maybe Crow might have gotten angry. Stormed up demanding how they dare presume that about him. That they don’t know him and don’t have the right to say how he feels about his friends. Maybe he might have reiterated the ways he trusted Squirrel, the ways the did respect her. On a bright day, maybe he may have listed some of the reasons he liked her so much just to clarify how much he does care about her.
But it isn’t anyone else.
Ashfoot knows who he is. She’s a teacher, and a good one, and there are many reasons for that.
She’s also an incredible mother. Especially because she was the one person who can shut him up when he’s acting like a moron.
And he shuts up alright.
He trusts Squirrel, he does. But he understands what his mother really means.
“You don’t need to worry over every little thing, Crow.” Now Ashfoot is tender and Crow allows her to edge closer to him so she can pull him a little nearer. “People aren’t made of glass.”
Squirrel certainly wasn’t. Is she was made of anything it was gold.
He thinks of what Squirrel would think of him. Her reaction to him so hung up over the thought of her not liking something.
He knows she would laugh.
Not to be mean. But because how couldn’t she laugh at such stupidity?
Crow thinks of saying sorry, people have often said that only someone like Ashfoot could raise a kid like Crow, he can see how right they are. Then his shoulder touches his mother’s as her hand squeezes his arm. They sit on the same cushion and it sinks beneath their weight.
Crow is relieved that he doesn’t need to apologise to let his mother know he’s remorseful. She didn’t want to hear that. She just wanted him to listen because that would be the only way she could help him. And despite how many of his problems still exist, he does feel better.
Like a little kid, he feels braver.
He looks at his mother with a kind of wonder. “Is it alright if I invite her here tomorrow?”
Ashfoot gives his shoulder a squeeze, “You don’t need to ask. I’ll be out trying to sort out a trip to the museum anyway. So, she can stay as long as she wants to.”
“I hope she isn’t busy.”
The hand falls off his shoulder and she’s glaring at him again. He smirks, “I’m kidding. I don’t care.” He lies.
She huffs and turns off the TV. “You are so much like your father. He had that kind of way with words too.”
“Is that a good thing or not?” Crow asks as she’s nearly out the room.
She pauses, turns, and shrugs. “Context is key.” She says with a wry smile. “Get her text!” She barks like ordering him to do another lap. Then she’s gone and her steps echo up the stairs like a countdown for him to finally grow some balls.
He finds it surprisingly easy to pull out his phone, and even more surprising when she sends the first text.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t anything to be proud of.
The response is almost immediate, the buzz of his phone makes the skin on his neck spark.
Lol Yo birdboy to what do I owe the pleasure?
She doesn’t sound busy. That makes him a little more calm. Crow takes in a deep breath and types, trying not to picture her sniggering at his messages.
You sound unhappy to hear from me lol Are you busy tomorrow?
It’s kind of a stupid question. Nobody is really busy on Saturdays. And the next exams weren’t for another few months. Crow grapples to think that it doesn’t matter. But what did he know? Maybe she had plans with family or with Leaf or with her film team or-
The phone buzzes again.
Apart from struggling being the best undiscovered Hollywood talent, not much. Why?
Another wave of relief. Now’s the time to ask.
Now is hard to comprehend.
He knows the longer he waits, the worse it will be. For a moment he questions why he likes this girl to the point that one of his hands is shaking at the thought of asking her to hang out. He sighs. Maybe he can blame his father for inheriting his lacklustre performance with girls.
And it’s that that makes him calm down a little.
Thinking he’s alike his father, the man he’s heard so many people call a legend, the man he’s found out shook like him for ten years over a girl who he knew liked him. He doesn’t sound like a hero, but maybe that’s Crow’s fault. After all, who’s to say a legend didn’t have their own fears.
And maybe Crow has his father’s fears.
But he can make it so he has his guts as well. If just for when it matters.
Sounds terrible You want to struggle with that over at my place?
It goes quickly after that.
Ohh has Xmas come early?! I was beginning to think you were some hypochondriac!
;3 Sure that sounds good I don’t know if I’ll be able to get my parents to drop me off tho
My dads got a meeting over here and my mom is taking Leaf to look round some uni’s
I can pick you up if you want?
Can I drive?
Not a chance in hell
Booooo You’re lucky I’m bored
Is that a yes?
10:30, you show up any later I’ll call the cops and tell them you’re a stalker
Lol noted, I’ll see you then
(not joking) you better, I wanna check out Casa de Crow for myself
Say those three words again and I’ll block you
Casa De Crow
It’s over after two minutes. Crow’s never held a smile for that long before.
He makes it five minutes early, but he waits a little just in case. He knows how close to time Squirrel is, she only gets ready for the time she’s set. He wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t entirely ready a minute early.
It’s a nice day thankfully, crisp and warm, the sun kisses the street in long yellow rays. Thankfully, he’s able to park his car across the street from her house. The red sandstone gleamed under the summer sky, making it look even better than when Crow first saw it. It wasn’t luxurious or anything, just a two-storey house. But there had been care put into it. Windowpanes painted a glistening white and a garden entranced with flowers Crow couldn’t recognise, it was the effort that made the imagination.
On the drive here, Crow would admit that his head had spun a little. The worst ever possibilities still made up his head like a hornet’s nest. But now he was here, their buzzing had stopped. It might have been the summer air, sleepy and gentle, reminding him of the other days like this where he had hung out with his friend.
He guessed that was it. This was just another day in the end. One that he was looking forward to seeing through.
He didn’t need to bring anything, but he still has his wallet in the glovebox. It was better to be prepared in case of anything. (more than likely the idea that Squirrel hadn’t gotten to breakfast yet) Maybe they could head into the city for a bit before heading over to his. He checked the glovebox again, glad to see it still rested there.
When it gets to 10:28, Crow feels its fair to knock on the door. He exits the car, walking into the mostly empty street, save for one arriving car that Crow stops to let drive past. He crosses, feeling a strange smile on his face as he walks up to the door. He wonders if he should drop her a text to let her know. He decides against it. Probably too weird.
He knocks on the door, gradual but clear and pulls out his phone as he waits. He quickly decides to put it away in case he looked rude if her dad answered the door.
He can’t hear anything, so he knocks again, just in case.
His phone vibrates. There’s a text.
I’ll be down in a minute, just getting some stuff together Hold your horses
The time on his phone is 10:29.
Once again, she’s down to her time. Crow shakes his head, chuckling.
The voice is soft, but it seems louder on the empty street. Crow raises a brow, turning. The guy stands a few feet away from him. His hands are buried in his brown bomber jacket, and he looks at Crow with a puzzled, but even, unaccusing expression. He’s at least a foot taller than Crow, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to look big. His chestnut hair is smooth and wavy, and the only aura of threat comes from the broad curve of his shoulders.
Apart from that though, he looks friendly.
Upon seeing Crow, his eyes flare with realisation and what looks like a relieved smile comes over him. “Oh! I remember you! You’re Squirrel’s friend, right?”
His voice isn’t demanding or hostile, just natural and bright.
Crow almost finds it odd himself that he hates the guy.
Then he remembers who he’s talking to.
He doesn’t wait for Crow to respond. He’s come forward, “You might not remember me. It was a while ago.” His hand extends out, eager to shake Crow’s. “I’m Bramble. What was your name?”
“I remember you.” Crow says levelly, restraining the urge to growl. He takes Bramble’s hand and tightly shakes it. “And it’s Crow.”
There’s a unnerved flash in Bramble’s eyes but he keeps his smile level. “You got quite a grip, Crow.” He pulls his hand away and Crow muses on whether he actually tried to hurt the guy. Bramble looks up at the house as the sun fades, lingering over the two of them. “You here to see Squirrel?”
“Yeah.” Crow can’t help himself. “Why?” There’s an edge to his voice.
Now Bramble looks taken aback. His smile thins as he laughs dryly. “Just asking really.”
“So, how’s she doing anyway? I haven’t had the chance to talk to her recently.”
He says it so casually that Crow wants to knee him where it will hurt. Chances? That was rich. She’d given him chance after chance when he’d broke promise after promise, and he had the gall to act like it wasn’t something he could control. Crow would believe the bastard was taunting him if it wasn’t for that dumb smile.
Crow wants to tell him to mind his own business. He wants him to piss off.
But he wants this day to go smoothly.
He shrugs, “She’s fine.” And he leaves it at that, even as Bramble’s smile twitches, hoping for something else that Crow wouldn’t give him.
To anyone else Crow would probably look like a jerk. Being hostile to such an openly nice boy. But anyone else hadn’t heard how Bramble had betrayed Squirrel’s trust. They hadn’t seen how Squirrel was affected when the one guy she wanted there on the most important night of her life failed to even leave a shoeprint.
Crow doesn’t have the time to worry about idiot’s feelings. He knew enough to know on what side he stood.
The awkward second is enough for Bramble to reach for another chance. “Yeah.” He coughs. “Well, uh, I’m just here to meet with Firestar.” He waits for a response. Crow doesn’t care enough to give him one. As far as he was concerned, this guy didn’t deserve to even speak to him. The taller boy shuffles on his feet, coughing again. “I’m part of the student committee, you see, every now and then we need to meet with the teachers to discuss plans.” He waves his hand. “You know, upcoming events and all that stuff.”
Bramble looks delighted that he’s gained a response. “Yeah.”
“So did you work on the culture festival last term?” Crow throws out the hook.
Bramble’s eyes widen, electrified. “Of course! I mostly worked with setting up the venues on that one.”
Crow’s fist tightens. Why did he expect this idiot to know what he meant? It was clear he hadn’t thought once about what happened that night. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”
His hand goes to his neck as he laughs. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. I actually had plans that night so I couldn’t turn up.” He grins. “But maybe you went somewhere I helped plan? What did you do?”
There’s consideration for a second in whether Crow thinks he should let this go or not. He didn’t want to make some kind of scene after all. This wasn’t a day he could waste on some moron like this.
He wants to see if he’s too thick to understand what he says next.
“I checked out the student films for most of the night.” Crow watches as Bramble’s face slackens. The grin fades to a dry, only a little upturned, line and there isn’t as much life in his eyes anymore. He’s got him. There’s the recognition Crow had to see. Crow cranes his head; he can’t help himself. “You help out there?”
“No.” Bramble says, his voice isn’t weak, but it isn’t strong. “That really wasn’t an area I was a part of.”
Crow could have scoffed. “I see.” He’s playing with fire now, he realises, but the urge is so strong. He’s made some point to the idiot. He couldn’t stop now. “You missed some good stuff. It was a great time.”
“I’ll let the girl who managed it know you had a good time.” The older boy’s voice is different now, like it’s been sharpened with flint. Is he angry? Crow can’t tell, but if the fool even lays a finger on him, Crow’s aiming for the nose.
The thought of Squirrel’s disappointed face that night is enough to tell him he isn’t stepping over a line.
Besides, the guy still hasn’t mentioned the obvious.
But he’ll have to face it now, as Crow can hear the clack of keys spinning in the lock.
The door bursts wide and she’s there. She looks as vibrant as ever. Short orange shirt, bright blue jean shorts, knee high boots, and strangely she’s still wearing her usual green winter jacket despite the strength of the sun.
But Crow doesn’t say anything. He’s just happy to see her. He thinks she looks happy to see him.
“Hey!” She pipes, she pulls her coat tight on her shoulders, springing out the door. She looks ready to burst past him to the car when she sees the other boy on her doorstep. Crow is both unsurprised and scared when he sees the frown take over her expression. She stops right in front of Crow, just catching her feet like she thinks she’d catch something if she took another step. “Oh. Hey.”
Bramble’s an idiot, but even he can catch the way her voice drops. He frowns too. “Hey.”
“I forgot Dad said you were coming over.” She turns away, whipping her hand back to her house. “He’s out in the back garden. Do you want me to tell him you’re here?” Her voice isn’t hostile, but it’s low in a way that Crow knows isn’t her.
“Nah, that’s fine.” He’s beginning to take in the whole scene. His face goes between the two in front of him, his face unreadable. “You guys off somewhere?”
“Nowhere special, really.” Squirrel says quickly. She doesn’t need to explain herself to him. “I was bored and I got an invite to hang out, not gonna let it slide.” She looks back at Crow, and something instantly looks brighter on her face. “You parked nearby, right? I cannot be bothered to walk a long way because of you.”
Crow chuckles, pointing to the other side of the street. “Your lucky day then?”
“See, you can use your brain when you want to!” The inflection in her voice is so sugary it’s contagious. It’s also isolating to a select few. “Well, onward then!” She pipes at him before striding forward. When she passes the hard-faced boy, she mutters, “Have a good time.”
There was no way he could miss any of this.
Crow is split.
One possibility is that he’s happy. Happy because the way she avoids him, the way she has made her problem with him clear, it could be a signal that she is truly over him. That maybe she could move on when she was ready.
But the other, is one that makes Crow tremble. The idea that she’s making a point. Because seeing how he looks when he’s ignored, it’s clear that she truly has Bramble’s attention now. And maybe that was what she wanted. Maybe Crow was just a way for her to get back at him.
That thought doesn’t last long.
They hung out before Crow even knew he existed, it would be like saying that their whole group was made just to spite the idiot. Squirrel isn’t like that. They’d become friends because it was what they wanted.
Crow has to trust her.
He’s ready to follow her when Bramble speaks up.
“Squirrel!” He calls, some kind of desperation in his voice.
Squirrel stops, and turns back, she looks annoyed. The street goes silent again. This time it doesn’t feel natural.
Bramble sighs, he looks wrung out and caught. He meets the fiery gaze with a low stare. “I get that you’re angry at me. And I get that I deserve it. I was an idiot, okay? I know how hard you worked on your film, and I did want to see it.” He looks down and up like he’s searching for a rope. “I didn’t mean to get side-tracked.”
Squirrel looks uncomfortable, like this is the last thing she wants to talk about. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No, it does! I’m sorry, all right?”
Crow can’t deny that he’s a little impressed. The guy didn’t try to twist it and make out like he wasn’t to blame. He could admit that he messed up. He stays quiet as he waits for Squirrrel’s reaction. It was up to her to forgive him or not.
She ducks her head as she looks away, her fingers tap over her crossed arms.
Bramble repeats himself, “I really am sorry. And I still really want to see your project. Could I?”
Squirrel shrugs, “Sure. Dad burned out tons of copies for his friends. He was probably going to offer you one.”
That’s more than likely not the way Bramble wanted that to be answered. He doesn’t look relieved. He rubs his eyes with a tight breath. “Okay, great. But, um, I was also thinking, do you want me to help out with your studies again?”
Crow flinches. He doesn’t want to panic at that, but he does. Because he knows that Bramble isn’t a head of committee for nothing, he knows more than him, he could help Squirrel more than he can.
Squirrel shakes her head. “Nah. I’m doing okay now, thanks. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”
There is deep relief in Crow’s gut. Not just that Squirrel preferred him, but that she didn’t mention he was the one who was helping her. He wasn’t some leverage she needed to get something over the guy.
“It wouldn’t be any trouble.” Bramble says dryly, his face twisting. “I’m not that busy or anything.”
“I said it’s fine.” And now Squirrel is bursting back to grab Crow’s arm. She gives him a sharp look. “Are you trying to look like some emo garden gnome, come on!” She exclaims, pulling Crow away from her house.
It’s only for a moment but Crow can see the look of bewilderment on the boy’s face as they stroll past. Like he can’t believe that he’s the one being dismissed. Crow isn’t sure how long he watches after them as Squirrel drags him to his car.
“Are we going to go or not? Open open open!” She chants. She doesn’t even glance back at her house.
Crow thinks this means he shouldn’t either. They get into the car, and Crow watches her shuffle around in the seat, pulling it forward and back deliriously as she tries to get comfy. “Heh! You must have used air spray in here just for me!” She jibes. She doesn’t look phased at all.
Still Crow can’t help but ask, “Are you alright?”
She inhales to say something that looks angry, then she closes her mouth, inhales again and beams at him. “Of course, I am! Don’t worry about him! I’ve got thicker skin than that, Crow!”
“That wasn’t really what I meant.”
Crow falls silent beside her. They don’t speak for a moment. Crow looks aside and sees her porch clear now. The front door closed.
Squirrel seizes the silence. “Crow, you don’t need to worry about me.” She says, her voice soft, but sparking. “I appreciate it but, honestly, I’m fine. Okay?” Her tone implies that she really wants to sweep this brief encounter under the rug. Crow wants to as well. He can’t help but feel like he shouldn’t though.
“Are you sure?” He says, just to be safe. He watches her face closely.
Her smile broadens, “I always am!” With that decided, she swings her hands behind her head and she meets Crow’s eyes. “Now can we get going! I’m want to see if it’s the lighting in your house that makes your hair so dark!”
He lets it go now.
Because there’s a safety in her eyes, a relief, a happiness that she can let the bullshit go here. A happiness to see him and be in his company.
The idea that she can enjoy herself with him.
Crow’s chest warms and he smiles back at her, his muscles finally relax for the first time that day. “Alright then.”
Squirrel beams, but before she can open her mouth to say something else, a deep rumbling fills the car.
Crow grins and Squirrel blushes when they recognise where it’s coming from.
“No breakfast, huh?” Crow teases. A punch lands on his arm.
“Shut up! I was in a hurry this morning!”
“And who’s fault is that?”
She only mutters an angry, embarrassed reply.
Crow shakes his head, but he’s happy that he didn’t take his wallet for nothing. “So… pancakes?”
Squirrel nods behind her blush. “Please.”
I love it when map creators will go "yes this map is supposed to show how Both Nightcloud AND Crowfeather were bad for each other and had flaws lol" then proceeds to only show Crowfeather's flaws in the actual script like yes no obviously ur not biased at all lmao
au where breezepelt gets kicked out of WindClan for fighting on the side of the dark forest! He then meets up with Sol to get revenge on ThunderClan and Crowfeather. I finally got to use my designs for something lol. I’m pretty happy with how the grass/bg turned out! :] I might do more content and fully flesh out this au hmm 👀
[image description: a digital painting of a the face of an oriental cat, crowfeather, on a transparent background. the cat has greenish-bluish dark gray and black fur and some lighter markings around its eyes and nose. the cat has pale blue eyes. the cat has a black nose and dark pinkish-red inner ears.]
The sun-drown place journeying cats are walking past a twolegplace outside the clan territories past Mothermouth when they stumble across an old and graying tom sitting on his garden fence, gazing in the direction of the clans.
He looks weirdly familiar, even though none of the journeying cats had ever seen him before, but the cat has a strange recognition in his own eyes as he notices the group walking in his direction.
They're about to pass, Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt giving an awkward nod in the tom's direction when the bright ginger cat jumps off his fence and greets them.
The tom looks across the 6 clan cats, but lands his warm green gaze on Squirrelpaw and Crowpaw, where his eyes soften and almost become rheumy.
"You're clan cats, right? It's great to meet'cha, my name's Jake."
Initial WindClan Survivors:
Whitetail - small white she-cat (Elder)
Heathertail - light brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes
Slightfoot - black tom with a white flash on chest
Emberfoot - gray tom with two dark gray paws
Fernpaw - gray tabby she-cat
Smokepaw - gray she-cat
Crowfeather - dark gray, almost black tom
Sedgewhisker - pale brown tabby she-cat
Gorsetail - very pale gray and white she-cat with blue eyes
Oatclaw - pale brown tabby tom
Brindlepaw - mottled brown she-cat
So to start at the beginning, I have read all the Broken Code books that are out so far, but while waiting for the newest book to release, I have been going back to read the A Vision of Shadows arc. And I've got to say I'm positively in love with Needletail and I wanted to write an AU where Darktail succeeds in killing many Clan cats including Violetpaw who gave her life to come to Needletail's aid when I came across the 10% Left AU Random Generator and an idea sparked. I quickly found out that the idea was first written about by https://10leftau.tumblr.com/ but they gave multiple people permission to write stories on the same premises as long as we credit them. So before I go any further, I credit this idea to them. :) Now, the story will be in multiple POVs, most likely one from each Clan, and they'll have trials to go through of course since over half of their Clanmates are now gone. It will hopefully be an interesting read so I hope that you enjoy it. :3
beloved family of kitties, albeit not legal✨😞 and also my designs