HOME | DD

Description
Oh look, Lesharold. Or as they're called here, Thornpaw (Leshawna) and Duckpaw (Harold). Time for a blurb!

Duckpaw sighed as he stared into the clear pool of water that had built up as a steady rain pattered down on his head. All he could focus on as he stared at his reflection was that big, ugly scratch that ran the length of his face, separating his once well kept ginger fur. He swatted the puddle with his good forepaw and saw his reflection distort and ripple before he limped back in the direction of the medicine den.
"Duckpaw?" He perked his ears up, swiveling them around to catch the voice that came from behind him. It was Thornpaw. Had she been watching? He hoped not.
She looked at him with what he could only assume was a mixture of empathy and pity. Must be my scars, he guessed silently.
Thornpaw sat beside him. "You haven't been out of that stuffy old den for a moon, are... are you alright?" Thornpaw asked gently, her expression dimming into one of worry.
Duckpaw sighed, "It's... it's not complicated, really. I just don't want to run into him again," he shuddered at the thought of the green-maned apprentice that had caused a good deal of his disfigurement, "I hope I haven't worried anyone."
Thornpaw blinked, "I've been worried. Usually you're everywhere in the camp, constantly running errands, showing kits how you swipe one-pawed, and collecting whatever little plants are around to do StarClan-knows-what with." Duckpaw couldn't help but give a sheepish chuckle. "Besides, you look like you've been asleep for years. Here, lemme help you with that, you mouse-brain," Thornpaw quipped cheerfully.
Duckpaw laid beside her, allowing her to groom his cheek. Maybe I'll end up being okay, he thought, looking at his friend fondly.

Description
Oh look, Lesharold. Or as they're called here, Thornpaw (Leshawna) and Duckpaw (Harold). Time for a blurb!

Duckpaw sighed as he stared into the clear pool of water that had built up as a steady rain pattered down on his head. All he could focus on as he stared at his reflection was that big, ugly scratch that ran the length of his face, separating his once well kept ginger fur. He swatted the puddle with his good forepaw and saw his reflection distort and ripple before he limped back in the direction of the medicine den.
"Duckpaw?" He perked his ears up, swiveling them around to catch the voice that came from behind him. It was Thornpaw. Had she been watching? He hoped not.
She looked at him with what he could only assume was a mixture of empathy and pity. Must be my scars, he guessed silently.
Thornpaw sat beside him. "You haven't been out of that stuffy old den for a moon, are... are you alright?" Thornpaw asked gently, her expression dimming into one of worry.
Duckpaw sighed, "It's... it's not complicated, really. I just don't want to run into him again," he shuddered at the thought of the green-maned apprentice that had caused a good deal of his disfigurement, "I hope I haven't worried anyone."
Thornpaw blinked, "I've been worried. Usually you're everywhere in the camp, constantly running errands, showing kits how you swipe one-pawed, and collecting whatever little plants are around to do StarClan-knows-what with." Duckpaw couldn't help but give a sheepish chuckle. "Besides, you look like you've been asleep for years. Here, lemme help you with that, you mouse-brain," Thornpaw quipped cheerfully.
Duckpaw laid beside her, allowing her to groom his cheek. Maybe I'll end up being okay, he thought, looking at his friend fondly.