🌳 Raccoonpaw ;; 🌳

TBA

Even though his body is screaming to flee, he will still fight for what he's passionate about.

While anything could mean life or death to him, he treats it with the passion of such.

"Guys please stop fighting, it's my fault-" "No it's not, shut up."

Everything in this life seems to go wrong, and he's contantly tense about it.

Anything scary, even the plain darkness of night will trigger his fight or flight.

He will cry.

Raccoonkit was born to a lonely mother who didn't need him much. She didn't show him much outward affection, though sometimes her protective nature showed through her icy exterior and he could feel a little love, even if it didn't come from a parental nature. He lived apart from the other kits, unable to bring himself into the rough housing nor the argumentative conversations of the others.

Raccoonpaw was apprenticed alone, and through a lack-luster ceremony, he saw a twinge of pain from his mother's face. He couldn't tell much about it, only that she was quick to die in battle due to strain on her body. Speaking of battle, the war was brought to an end, and he was recruited to help out with any healing. It was unfortunate that it was then that he discovered his abilities. Unfortunate in the fact that everyone's gaze fixated on him as an injured warrior's muscles stitched themselves together simply by what he meant to be a calming palm on her shoulder. Now, he stood shell-shocked and unable to process how far his future now changed before him.