by yeeee. » Mon Sep 07, 2015 1:56 am
Batpaw heard the growl beginning to rumble in Scorchstar throat, and part of him shriveled, knowing the worst was to come. Instinctively, the ebony tom lowered his body a bit to the ground, and flattened his large ears so they wouldn't be ripped badly should he be struck. His entire petite body trembled now, the pain from his fall earlier getting to him, as well as confusion and more helplessness. Although his leg hurt from where Hawkcry had squashed him and his fall earlier, his head hurt more than anything - Batpaw was sure the bruise was in it's finest state, probably swollen and purple, not to mention a dull headache had begun to start behind his eyeballs, owed to the insults, the pain, and the recent change of events. But that was the least of his worries. Scorchstar hadn't said anything, but the growling intensified - actions spoke louder than words, and unfortunate for Batpaw, he couldn't see what subtle messages were flying around before his very worthless eyes. That made him all the more uneasy, all the more sick, all the more cornered.
He was then slightly shunted by the large oriental shorthair. Although gentle, Batpaw wasn't expecting it - the petite tom stumbled, nearly falling over due to his sore, weak legs. Barely catching himself, Batpaw then crouched behind Scorchstar, the trembling slowing a bit. Honestly, he felt as if his long legs had locked into this crouching, slightly submissive position, and he moved Starclan only knew what would happen to him. Even if it did look like he was hiding behind Scorchstar, Batpaw didn't care - the damage had already been done. A few more points to his cowardliness didn't matter. After a few more tense moments of Scorchstar's powerful growl filling his large ears, he then heard Hawkcry's mew in his direction. Part of him felt like it died as the blind tom comprehended the sentence. It was official - Batpaw hadn't felt this bad since he was eight moons old. M-my mother....? You insult my mother, yet you know naught? Why is this so much fun for you? Why do you delight in torturing me? Claws sheathing and digging into the dirt, the ebony tom felt his maw open, but nothing. He felt his throat begin to entirely close up, so he closed his maw tightly, and focused on breathing hoarsely, trying to calm down. He couldn't snap, he couldn't show weakness in front of Hawkcry. If he did, now matter what, Batpaw knew he wouldn't live it down. Family seemed to be a sensitive topic for most of the clan, but for Batpaw, it was beyond sensitive. It was his pillar keeping everything together. Tiny, cracked, pathetic, but standing. But, for how long? The fact that Hawkcry, supposedly one of his 'new family' saying such a thing ripped through him more than a coyote or insult ever could. This was beyond a stupid, simple squabble after a tough spar match. This was even beyond hatred - it was like Hawkcry was corrupt. After a few more seconds of allowing those words to cycle through him, Batpaw felt the lump in his throat finally begin to dissipate, yet he felt no relief.
Batpaw was now too shocked to really comprehend much else. So when Scorchstar spoke, only one word came out. "Yes," the ebony tom said numbly, his soft, hoarse voice completely and utterly choked up. But no tears sparked in his eyes. Just glassiness. He'd run out of tears long, long, long ago. It was a good thing, to, because when Scorchstar asked his reaction - even with no malice - it made him sound just like the things Hawkcry had said. Weak, pathetic, a kit. He should have raked his long, hooked claws down Hawkcry's injured shoulder, made the massive warrior hiss and writhe in pain. Or better yet, his eyes, so the massive tom could experience Batpaw's everyday pain. So why did he just spit idle threats and let it happen? Batpaw had begun to chew at his bottom lip, doing his best to just keep his maw shut now. Retaliation would only result in more punishment, but did it really even matter anymore? He wouldn't be a warrior, not anytime soon after this, and all he'd worked for was crumbling before his very nose. Batpaw didn't even feel any satisfaction when Hawkcry sealed his fate by both admitting the truth and insulting Scorchstar - he felt only hate and this agonizing, wrenching hole that had been torn into him. Nicked.... That was officially the understatement of the day.
The only thing really holding Batpaw got was when he began to actually think, even if his head was still clouded with emotions and shock. If I am so pathetic, if I am such a waste of time and life, then why did you even bother spar? Why even bother try and work with me? Why even bother waste your breath and insult me? Watching me fail over and over should prove to be good entertainment enough. That in mind, the tall tom forced himself up just a little bit. He had to maintain this wall for as long as he could. "What will his punishment be, Scorchstar?" Batpaw mewed hoarsely, hoping that the punishment - although the word didn't really excite him anymore - would be so harsh that the apprentice could get a shred of satisfaction, a shred of the confidence that let him know he'd done a right thing. Those shreds would never make up for what he'd originally been seeking - a boost of morale before his ceremony - but at least Hawkcry would get just a sliver of what he deserved. Right?
Tagged ;; Scorchstar, Hawkcry