shock me like an electric eel [darkstar]

He weaved through the marshland better known as ShadowClan territory with the effortless grace of a wraith. It was his first time outside of camp (or at least it was supposed to be) but if the ease with which he moved drew out suspicion he’d deflect it with something as simple as a keen eye and focus. He was a calculated thinker, and that attribute shone through in how he carried himself. His eyes were always moving, always absorbing, and it made up for the lack of expression the rest of his face was renowned for. He hadn’t said a word to his mentor since they’d left camp, but he kept his ears strained for instruction. Darkstar, too, seemed to appreciate silence, and it was a quality his apprentice could admire in him. It would be interesting to see how the Clan leader attempted to establish a connection with him: Would he try and use words to teach him, or would he appeal to their shared preference for action?

Hollowpaw had worked long and hard to ensure his image was one that struck appeal in the hearts of ShadowClan’s warriors. When his former name, Hollowkit, was called forward to transition into the life of an apprentice, it had almost brought a smile to his face that he had likely been the desired pupil between him and his sister. Even as a kitten in the nursery, he had been polite and mannerly, and on the eve of becoming an apprentice, he had fluently moved through the ceremony. When his Clanmates thought of him, he wanted the first words that came to mind to be obedient and successful. It was a strange combination, but he’d put a lot of thought into both of his choices. Obedience (in relation to the Clan and the Code) when paired with success (as a warrior in the making) made for a well-rounded addition to the ranks. It made him likable, or better yet, agreeable. Anyone could look at him and assume he’d go places, but he wanted them to also believe it wholeheartedly when it crossed their minds. If he was a force to be reckoned with in all of the right places, nobody would think to spare the wrong places so much as a thought—and he dwelled in the wrong places.

Darkstar would be able to command him, and shape him, with as little as a sweep of his tail across the forest floor. Hollowpaw liked to think he was more than capable of commanding himself, but on the contrary, he wanted to place that power in Darkstar’s paws. The idea of seeing what it amounted to amused him greatly. He could become an ideal, perfect weapon amongst the masses in time for his twelfth moon. Impressing ShadowClan’s hierarchy had been a point of interest for him long before he was given to the Clan leader himself, and he wasn’t going to foolishly pass up such a golden opportunity to get exactly what he wanted. With Darkstar as his mentor, he could find out everything his Clan leader expected, desired and hated. It was a golden ticket into his good graces as long as Hollowpaw played his cards right, and he intended to do just that.

A large clearing opened up in front of Hollowpaw’s eyes, and once he stood front and center, he pivoted on the spot and took a seat. His posture immediately straightened, and his eyes immediately sought out his mentor’s in a show of unshakeable attentiveness. He hardly moved save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. He hardly blinked. It was like looking into the face of a robot about to be programmed—intriguing and full of possibilities.