|
|
Post by SmugGull on Jul 8, 2019 23:31:19 GMT -5
Daisypaw nosed her way out of the apprentice's den, staring around the camp in search of her mentor. She held back a sigh as she saw him sunning himself, seemingly oblivious to the cats around him, and padded over. She'd figured out over the last moon that if she wanted Clearleaf to teach her anything - actually teach her, not just throw her in the deep end and let her work it out for herself (although she usually did okay when that happened) - she had to dig her paws into the ground and insist.
|
|
Non-binary
☾ѕησσzє☽
no im not okay, I suck at a game I play 8 hours a day
|
Post by ☾ѕησσzє☽ on Jul 8, 2019 23:38:45 GMT -5
Clearleaf opened one eye when he heard a sound from the apprentice's den. Ah yes, the thorn in his side was awake and ready to get under his paws for the day. He let out a slow yawn and made sure to take his time bringing himself to his paws. He could teach her something today he supposed, maybe bring along another cat with them so he wouldn't be stuck with her and he'd some kind of entertainment in his life. He scanned the camp for some any signs of life besides the apprentice, hoping to Starclan that there was an available she-cat around to come with them. "Mudspla-" He called out to the deputy as she walked by, hoping he could stop her in her tracks. She shot him a quick glare though and continued on her way, calling out a no in response. He hissed to himself and dramatically turned around, approaching Daisypaw. "Come along, we are going..." He pondered this for a few moments, what was something quick for her to learn...something easy? "To work on your hunting skills, don't stand around."
|
|
Bisexual
dnacat
But courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
|
Post by dnacat on Jul 9, 2019 6:29:34 GMT -5
DawnstrikeDawnstrike angled and ear as he listened in on Petalfall and Loompaw. His eyes widened at her words, before they narrowed, though he held back his bitter words. He took a deep breath, before, as calmly as possible, he corrected the she-cat, "These are rogues, Petalfall. Not friends. They want our territory and our prey, and will not hesitate to hurt you if they think it will hurt the clan as well." He spoke over his shoulder, before turning back to face the front of the patrol. They were approaching the shoreline now, and he felt a prickly feeling creepy across his fur. The humidity in the early morning air hung heavy around him, and he could already feel the fur on his chest beginning to fuzz upwards, like kitten fur. He glared at it, as if it would ever respond, but said nothing, choosing instead to grumble to himself.
|
|
|
Post by ✨ nissabug ✨ on Jul 9, 2019 10:31:20 GMT -5
Loonpaw opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Dawnstrike, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes from behind him. She continued on, "They probably have no idea we're here. Or maybe they think we're the rogues. That's why they would ignore scent markers," she added. Her eyes caught the water shimmering on the shore a tree-length ahead, and her face brightened as she hurried to reach the sands, completely forgetting about their conversation.
Algaestar watched her go and shook her head, then glanced back at Dawnstrike and Petalfall. "We'll see what happens when we get there," she said. "Maybe they'll want to talk it out, maybe they'll want a battle." She gave Dawnstrike a sharper look. "We won't pick a fight if they don't want it." She wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, although she knew that it probably wouldn't happen if they were like most rogues. As they approached the shoreline, where Loonpaw was already paddling her way across, she waded into the water and began churning her legs with as much ease as walking.
|
|
Bisexual
dnacat
But courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
|
Post by dnacat on Jul 9, 2019 10:39:33 GMT -5
DawnstrikeDawnstrike opened his mouth to bite back (why would the rogues not want to fight? They were all half-starved and desperate for a chunk of clan territory, which would be ripe with prey), but he quickly shut it, though he grunted his disapproval. There was no point arguing, he supposed, it was clear that the cats here were deadset on finding a more peaceful solution to a run-in with the rogues. And he would allow them to do that, but if a rogue put so much as a claw-tip out of line, he would make sure they knew not to return to clan territory ever again. He slowly slunk to the back of the patrol, grumbling and muttering to himself to avoid the silence.
|
|
|
|
Post by νσι∂ on Jul 9, 2019 12:16:13 GMT -5
Lynxtail relaxed as the elm trees passed by them and the sound of the river rushing reached her ears. The familiar rush of the water sent waves of comfort straight to her soul, as cheesy as that sounded. She was born and raised in FloodClan and couldn't imagine life anywhere else. The grass quickly turned to sand beneath her paws as she trailed the rest of her patrol. "Should we all cross at once or in pairs?" she asked, looking to her clan mates with curiosity in her gaze. "Doesn't matter to me! I love swimming but I hate how soaked my fur gets... weird huh? I can't trip in the water! At least, I haven't yet. Oh boy, I jinxed myself didn't I?" she murmured, horror creeping into her voice.
|
|
Bisexual
dnacat
But courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
|
Post by dnacat on Jul 9, 2019 12:27:36 GMT -5
PikerushPikerush chuckled at his companion's words, nudging her as she trailed off, wondering if she could possibly trip in the water. Pikerush glanced over the rushing currents, bubbling and crashing over rocks a little bit upstream. Though the waters had shallowed in recent moons, it was still deep. Not even Pikerush could reach the bottom. As he mumbled a reasurrance to Lynxtail ("If you trip in the water, Lynxtail, you will be one of the clumsiest cats I have ever met"), he glanced over the rest of the party.
Lynxtail herself was big and strong, even if she was clumsy. She would be able to handle the waters well on her own, but he reckoned even she would be tired by the time she reached the far shoreline. Clearrain was small and dainty, and though Stoatclaw was sturdy, he was still a graceful, light-weighted tom. It would be better for them to travel in pairs. He echoed this aloud with a simple, "We'll move in pairs. It's safer." He moved to Clearrain. He, in his opinion, was a confident swimmer, and if anything went wrong with the smaller she-cat, he trusted himself to be able to carry her to shore, "I will go with Clearrain, and Lynxtail and Stoatclaw shall partner up. Clearrain and I will go first," in case anything goes wrong, he thought to himself, though he didn't dare say it outside in fear of stirring up more anxiety, "And then Stoatclaw and Lynxtail will follow us."
|
|
|
Post by ✨ nissabug ✨ on Jul 9, 2019 12:49:36 GMT -5
Algaestar continued to swim across the water, which was unfortunately much easier than she remembered. The river was getting lower, and the leader had no idea how to tackle the problem; honestly she was more concerned about the rogues right now than the water levels. The waves didn’t push at them nearly a much, and it didn’t take long before the shore was just ahead. She tossed her head back to make sure the rest of her patrol was alright.
Loonpaw found herself to be a speedy swimmer and was soon pulling herself up onto the opposite shore. She stopped and shook out her pelt, which was long but slick so the water ran off easily. She turned to the edge of the water and watched her Clanmates paddle on. “Hurry up, slowpokes!”
|
|
|
Post by Jekyll on Jul 9, 2019 13:19:19 GMT -5
PikerushPikerush plodded along slowly, inhaling waves of a mixture of humidity and air. His brother was going to go into a rage, his perfect pelt inevitably going to fuzz up once he stepped out into the bare, damp air. He smiled to himself as he pictured Algaestar and her patrol of important warriors set to head for rogue territory had to wait for his brother to fix himself up, in case they ran into any of his pretty clanmates along the way. He enjoyed patrols like these, where everyone was generally quite quiet and kept to themselves, but he wished Algaestar had called on him too. Dawnstrike on patrol was always hilarious and a great time. Not that everyone here wasn't hilarious and a good time, they were all great, fu- why was he defending himself? They couldn't hear his thoughts. He shook out his head, and distracted himself with the birds that flew in triangles overhead. He wondered where they were flying to.
SmallfireSmallfire chuckled as he realised he had indeed probably told Fallowpaw all the stories he knew. He hummed, tilting his head, unsure as to what story he should tell him. He had told him the story of Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Dovewing and Firestar, of the ancient four clans who resided by a mighty lake. He had told him the story of Coldwater and Warmfire, starcrossed lovers forbidden from seeing one another. He had even told him the story of Tigerstar, the most evil cat to ever grace the ground beneath their paws. He paused, before he had an aha moment, straightening upright and ears perking up, "Have I ever told you the story of Whitefang, warrior of the wolves?"
(Completely stealing this story from another elder's story in another fanfiction written by another fan who is a much better writer than me btw sksksk). Clearrain padded along with the patrol, moving here and there as she scented the air, her ears pricked and senses alert for any sign of prey while they moved along. The she-cat enjoyed a good hunt, preferring hunting more than anything else really. she moved along, the damp air making her pelt even sleeker than normal and shiny in the sunlight as dew wet her fur. Soon enough the she-cat caught the scent of mouse, her tail going up as a sign that she scented something. Clearrain crouched down and began to make her way toward the scent, her eyes scouring everywhere until she finally spotted the small brown creature. Checking the wind, she moved steadily forward until finally pouncing, easily catching the creature and ending it's life with a quick nip to the neck. Fallowpaw shook his head quickly, his eyes lighting up at the thought of a new story. "I haven't heard that one! A warrior of wolves? Is Whitefang a cat or a wolf? How would we know stories about wolves? Aren't they really scary?" He couldn't help the stream of questions that poured from his mouth as he thought about all of the things this story might hold.
|
|
Bisexual
dnacat
But courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
|
Post by dnacat on Jul 9, 2019 13:54:39 GMT -5
PikerushPikerush chuckled at his companion's words, nudging her as she trailed off, wondering if she could possibly trip in the water. Pikerush glanced over the rushing currents, bubbling and crashing over rocks a little bit upstream. Though the waters had shallowed in recent moons, it was still deep. Not even Pikerush could reach the bottom. As he mumbled a reasurrance to Lynxtail ("If you trip in the water, Lynxtail, you will be one of the clumsiest cats I have ever met"), he glanced over the rest of the party.
Lynxtail herself was big and strong, even if she was clumsy. She would be able to handle the waters well on her own, but he reckoned even she would be tired by the time she reached the far shoreline. Clearrain was small and dainty, and though Stoatclaw was sturdy, he was still a graceful, light-weighted tom. It would be better for them to travel in pairs. He echoed this aloud with a simple, "We'll move in pairs. It's safer." He moved to Clearrain. He, in his opinion, was a confident swimmer, and if anything went wrong with the smaller she-cat, he trusted himself to be able to carry her to shore, "I will go with Clearrain, and Lynxtail and Stoatclaw shall partner up. Clearrain and I will go first," in case anything goes wrong, he thought to himself, though he didn't dare say it outside in fear of stirring up more anxiety, "And then Stoatclaw and Lynxtail will follow us."
((Hey Jekyll just letting you know we're crossing the river with the patrol now! Also testing out formatting for rping so my font is probably gonna change a lot)) Smallfire-In Camp-Smallfire purred at Fallowpaw's words. He shook his head, "No, we are lucky enough to have never seen wolves in this territory," Smallfire explained, casting his vision over Fallowpaw's shoulder, out of camp, "No, this story comes from the four ancient clans. Before FloodClan even existed." Smallfire came from a long line of cats who valued storytelling. His grandmother would fill his head to the brim with stories of the leaders of ancients clans, and the stories of heroic deeds. He wondered if anything as fantastical as that would ever happen in FloodClan as a kit, but now, as his bones began to creak, he grew grateful for the lack of heroics, as heroes only spawned from trouble, "Wolffang was a member of the legendary TigerClan, you see."
"The leader and deputy of TigerClan had been on patrol one day, through the ancient forests, and paused when suddenly they heard a sound. They approached, cautiously, to see a large creature, it's pelt the colour of the sun, yet its eyes the colour of the night sky. It was bigger than both warriors and even the dogs that would sometimes appear in the forest. At it's paws, lay a heap of fur, a kit," Smallfire widened, imitating his imagined reaction from the leader of TigerClan, "But the kit was already nearly as big... as big... as well, me!" He indicated to himself, "With glorious, beautiful white fur and golden eyes that glowed already with a strength never seen before. The creature, what they would later name a wolf, tilted it's head back, and let out a beautiful sound," Smallfire attempted to imitate, but his old lungs resisted and instead allowed him only to cough when he tilted his head back, "And as it finished, it approached the warriors with the kit in maw, and placed it at their paws. It arched it's back like a stretching cat, bowing it's head, before it disappeared with the next wind that blew through." Smallfire made a soft blowing sound, well praticed in the art of imitating the nature around him, "All that was left was the kit. And this kit, dear Fallowpaw, would become a warrior of legend. She would become Whitefang, warrior of the wolves."
Dawnstrike-Crossing the River-
Dawnstrike rolled his eyes at the apprentice's words, before he entered the waters. He cringed as the water dampened his fur, revealing it's more natural curl and fuzziness, as he waded through. Though the waters were much lower than they had been when he was an apprentice, he was still a small enough tom, and the waters brush against his chest still. And the drop? Well, his toes barely managed to brush the bottom when he half-paddled, half-walked through the waters, grumbling about it all the way across. He spat out a mouthful of water as a wave suddenly splashed against his face, and this only worsened his mood, as he finally clambered onto the shallow shores, and up onto the solid ground. He instinctively licked his chest fur, wrinkling his nose as the dirty water disgraced his tongue.
|
|
|
Post by ✨ nissabug ✨ on Jul 9, 2019 14:13:57 GMT -5
Algaestar pushed onto the shoreline beside Loonpaw and shook out her pelt a bit, but most of the water just slid off her shiny fur. “Who’s the one leading the patrol again?” asked Algaestar with a smile to Loonpaw, who simply giggled. The leader turned her attention back to the group of cats as they settled on the bank for a moment. She flicked her tail down the hill, toward the moorland. “Make sure to leave our scent along the bank as well.” The last thing they needed now was hostile cats coming onto the island.
((Dawnstrike and Algaestar are already amusing together lol))
|
|
|
Post by frostshade on Jul 9, 2019 15:27:20 GMT -5
{ thank u, i was proud of it! }
A l d e r n o s e -
Aldernose considered it for a moment. In a way, it was good--There was less of a threat of death looming over the mother's shoulders, shadowing over the familiar raging water. On the other paw, what if it didn't stop shrinking? Those same kits would grow up knowing a weak river, only hearing tales of when it was a strong, powerful force of nature, a feat to cross? Or maybe even no river.
He forced himself to shake off his head, passing it off as getting the water off. There was no way that it would dry up. It was there when he was born, there when he left, there when he came back. It would come back. "Well, I can't argue with that," He meowed, his eyes scanning the perimeter, a chuckle coming from his throat. "It'll be nice not to have to worry about an apprentice drowning--Or even an injured warrior, for that matter. I'm sure it'll come back in it's own time, but for now, let's take the blessing." He finished, becoming a bit more firm in his decision, though part of him still felt uneasy.
He was quick to follow Tanglestripe, bounding after him. The wind felt nice in his fur, especially after the swim. It made him feel a strange type of freedom, chills running down his spine as the cool air met the drying water. His ears stuck up and out, one pointing more towards his friend, and the other, to where the prey would be. Aldernose was careful to listen, but perhaps they were still too close to the river. No matter how low it was, a mouse or a rabbit wouldn't go near that thing. It was way too risky for a small creature; One swell and they could be done for. Not to mention that they got out of the water, which made quite a lot of noise, and would scare prey off.
He glanced around, breathing through his mouth to taste if anything was on the air. Surely, there were mingled scents, which gave him peace of mind. Aldernose was hit with the realization that if the river went, so would the prey, as the soil would differ, food and water would be different, so on, so forth. But the river won't dry, He told himself, and Tanglestripe spoke. It can't. He glanced back at the water. "That's what I'm hoping for, but I feel strongly that the river falling is a sign for concern, even if it is just nature. It's terrifying to think that it could dry up. It won't, I'm sure of it, but it's still a thought that deserves to be acknowledged and put to rest."
|
|
Lesbian
Owl
always writing, never finishing
|
Post by Owl on Jul 9, 2019 19:38:15 GMT -5
Petalfall turned her head to stick her tongue out playfully at Dawnstrike. It's not like all the rogues can be bad, right? If there are countless numbers of them out there, then surely there have to be some friendly ones.
"But can you imagine? I wonder just how many cats are out there that think we're rogues! I guess all cats really are the same on the outside, so there's no way to tell...but it sure is funny!"
Petalfall laughed as Loonpaw raced on ahead, picking up the pace as her paws hit the cool sand. As she slipped into the water, Petalfall was surprised at how lax the water felt around her pelt. Instead of churning her paws against the current, she was able to glide like a fish through the water. That's unusual!
"Coming!" she called after Loonpaw, hitting the opposite bank of the shore far more quickly than usual. Purring with amusement at Dawnstrike's scowl, she shook out her fur and stared towards the moorlands. "I wonder how many of them are out there."
|
|
Lesbian
Owl
always writing, never finishing
|
Post by Owl on Jul 9, 2019 19:47:02 GMT -5
"Dry up?" Tanglestripe echoed, abruptly stopping in his search for the mouse. Despite the slow lowering of the river, he'd never considered the idea of it drying up entirely. Surely the river was far too large to ever dry up in their lifetime...right?
"I'd honestly never thought of it doing that," he looked up to meet Aldernose's gaze, unable to hide the worry in his own. The river drying up would not only change the land around them-it would change their entire lifestyle. Who were they without the river? It made up their identity. Silverpelt wouldn't be able to reflect off the water without the river, and there would be no Greenleaf Feast.
He tried his best to shake the dark thoughts, especially when they needed to focus on hunting for the clan, but it was strange and eerie to think about their entire lives changing. "...Maybe we're just being silly," he said, trying to convince himself as much as Aldernose. "The river is vast. If we get a few storms within the next moon, perhaps it'll go back to normal!"
He stepped forward and bumped shoulders with Aldernose, trying to ease the tension in the air. "I think I could smell mouse in the bush in front of us before. Can you scent it?"
|
|
|
Post by ✨ nissabug ✨ on Jul 9, 2019 22:37:30 GMT -5
((the patrol heading to the meadow will continue here! --> the meadow))
|
|
|
Post by owlspots on Jul 10, 2019 5:53:28 GMT -5
(hey y'all i'm back! anything i've missed that i need to reply to?)
|
|
|
Post by Protractor on Jul 10, 2019 8:43:22 GMT -5
(Hello
|
|
|
|
Post by frostshade on Jul 10, 2019 13:02:15 GMT -5
A l d e r n o s e -
There was tension beyond what could be cut with a claw. Many considered the river drying up a distant, horrible nightmare, but with the possibility of it being real? It became even more bone-chilling. Anything closer to reality was going to be frightening, though, as living in a dream was much more pleasant. Cats fought, they killed, and in a dream, none of that happened. In a dream, the river raged, and no lives were lost to it. But the harsh reality always had to be faced, no matter how much Aldernose didn't want to think about it, and those two thoughts together were almost deadly for an optimistic cat.
Perhaps Tanglestripe had noticed Aldernose's dismay at the thoughts, or perhaps he wanted to clear his own head of the same thoughts. Either way, Aldernose felt a wave of relief come over him as the subject was changed, his shoulder being bumped. He tilted his nose to the ground, taking a deep scent in--Surely enough, there was a mouse scent. He had been so distracted, he almost forgot to check.
"You're right, we're being silly. There's prey, so it can't be that bad," He murmured, his eyes darting around, attempting to find the little creature. All his senses became alert. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he had scented the mouse. Maybe he should've stopped for a snack before going out hunting, but what fun was that? The hunger just made the kill more exciting.
"I can," He responded with a nod. His steps became lighter as he stalked forward, but he was more interested in hunting than he was his steps. He could practically taste the fresh-kill on his tongue. Warm, fresh prey, he would truly kill for. And he did, but not another cat. Moreso mice. "I'll head to thataway," His head tilted left. "You go the other way around. If we can find it, we can corner it between us, and it'll be an easier kill. Hopefully, it won't make too much noise, either."
|
|
|
Post by Protractor on Jul 10, 2019 16:02:23 GMT -5
(I'm open
|
|
|
|
Post by Jekyll on Jul 10, 2019 22:55:21 GMT -5
hi, sorry about my absence. Needed a bit of a break))
|
|
|
Post by owlspots on Jul 11, 2019 4:06:59 GMT -5
Plumbranch yawned, stretching out her forelegs in front of her as she rolled over in her nest. The urge to get up and go for a walk was overwhelming, the fluffy she-cat realised with a jolt of surprise - perhaps the kits were restless? With a soft grunt she rose to her paws and trotted out into the camp, narrowing her eyes slightly as they adjusted to the daylight. The camp was rather lacking in activity, so she assumed that patrols had already gone out. While Plumbranch missed the freedom that came with being a warrior, she had never been particularly fond of getting up early to traipse around the territory all day, so being stuck in the nursery until her kits were born was largely okay with her.
|
|
|
Lesbian
Owl
always writing, never finishing
|
Post by Owl on Jul 11, 2019 9:56:21 GMT -5
Tanglestripe nodded, feeling better now that they had something to focus on other than the river. The mouse's scent was getting closer, and his stomach growled as he sank down a little, beginning to turn towards the right of the bush. Hopefully the sound was quiet enough as to not scare it away.
Rounding the corner slowly, Tanglestripe narrowed his eyes until they focused in on a faint movement beside the bush. A fat mouse was furiously washing its ears within the branches, clearly well-fed from the berries that grew on the small plants surrounding them. It would definitely make a great addition to the fresh-kill pile that night. Making brief eye contact with Aldernose, he drew closer, tucking his hind-legs underneath himself as he prepared to charge.
Sitting still for a quiet moment, Tanglestripe pounced, making sure his paws landed directly in front of the mouse instead of on top of it. As he predicted, it scurried in the opposite direction, straight towards Aldernose's waiting paws.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Jekyll on Jul 11, 2019 14:23:32 GMT -5
hi, where are my characters and such?))
|
|