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Post by 🌴𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔🌴 on Sept 7, 2018 4:33:13 GMT -5
Swiftwater 🌴𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔🌴
Noble and daring, but his cockiness can catch up to him sometimes. He's a goofball and a sweetheart, with serious situations not being his forte (he'll get a bit uncomfortable if things get "too real").
Primrose ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓
Primrose is a tall, beautiful, long-hair oriental she-cat with a tortoiseshell pelt, but don't let her looks and name fool you. Her build is lithe and narrow, which might lend a helping paw to tricking cats inside and out of the clan into thinking she isn't much of a threat. However, she most definitely is. Her claws and bite are lethal and her tongue is even more so; this cat's bark is definitely stronger than her bite, though she is a very skilled warrior. She isn't overly friendly to the cats she knows. Oddly enough, she is a big romantic and has fun when flirting with any cat.
Willowpool ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓
She's rather bossy and stuck-up in secret, but in public she likes to present herself as kindhearted and gentle. She's possessive and manipulative towards Swiftwater, not allowing him to have relationships with other she-cats through guilt-tripping means ('Are you just bored of me?' 'Do you think they're prettier than me?' etc.).
Swiftwater is in an unhappy relationship with Willowpool. She is manipulative and controlling, and he's building the courage to end the relationship. So during a moonhigh solo patrol when he finds a beautiful, mysterious rogue on the territory named Primrose, he falls head over heels for her and promises to see her the next night--which then turn into a series of nights. Well, Willowpool catches on to him constantly leaving camp every moonhigh, so she stalks him to their gathering place and confronts the two secret lovers...and she's definitely not going to throw just words.
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Sept 7, 2018 13:45:17 GMT -5
[ hey! i’ll try to get a starter up tonight ]
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Sept 7, 2018 20:44:33 GMT -5
Alone by a like, a tall tortoiseshell she-cat sat alone, her dark frame sillhouted by the soft beams of moonlight shining down from above. The night was clear, without a cloud in the sky. The air was chilly, the seasons having not yet transitioned from new-leaf to greenleaf, and the faint scent of rain hung on it. In the she-cat's mind, it was a perfect night. She inhaled a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, her eyes closed as she thought pensively about the stars that were scattered across the sky above her. Are those my ancestors, like mother taught me? Or are they just... there? Such thoughts were not uncommon for her to think. Pretty as she might have been, she was far from stupid and held much more behind her beautiful facade than most would think. She had not lived out much of her life yet, but she had already experienced more trials and hardships than most cats would face in a lifetime and, having gone through that, had learned many lessons that she held close to. But tonight, she wasn't thinking of her past. She was living in the moment, enjoying the beautiful night, and contemplating fishing. Most of the fish would already be asleep by now, so it would most likely be pointless to hunt him. However, many of the woodland creatures would still be awake. Sighing, the tortoiseshell stood up and stretched out her long body before slinking off towards the forest, pawsteps as light as snowfall.
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Post by 🌴𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔🌴 on Sept 8, 2018 3:11:24 GMT -5
Swiftwater padded across the rolling moors of his homeland, aimlessly as he took a moonhigh stroll. Camp was becoming increasingly suffocating for him, ever since Willowpool caught him talking with Iceberry...about patrol schedules. He felt a deep frustration, feeling like a prisoner of his own love life. He gritted his teeth, unsheathing and flexing his pearly claws in anger. The spotted tabby tom stopped on a peak hill overlooking most of the territory, bathed in a silver light with the distant woods looming black like sentinels. As he looked up at Silverpelt, not even beginning to comprehend the vastness of its ranks, he never felt more small and alone until then. He grimaced, digging his claws into the dirt fighting back tears. It wasn't fair...matehood was meant to be enjoyed, not feared. It wasn't fair! Swiftwater yowled with anger and frustration, swiping malevolently at a clump of wheat as he cursed the silent night. He didn't care who heard him, or how much prey he scared off. Nothing mattered, and everything was rotten, and the tom felt like all he could do was kick and scream because he felt so powerless.
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Post by ⭐ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍-𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 on Sept 9, 2018 13:21:28 GMT -5
Primrose knew that other cats lived in the surrounding area but the frightening howl she heard confirmed that fact and also told her that they lived much, much closer than she expected. Her ears pricked and her head swiveled all around at the sound (as it was echoing around her and she couldn't pinpoint where it came from), her green eyes going wide as the fur along her spine rippled with a chill. The scream sounded so beaten down, forlorn, frustrated. She couldn't imagine that cat was very happy. But what did it matter? She didn't know the cat; it wasn't any of her business, and she didn't care. Sighing, she smoothed down her fur before heading even further into the forest. She could only hope the cat wasn't anywhere near her. If it was and the cat turned out to be aggressive, Primrose knew how to fight and would certainly be able to take care of herself. Her mother, Orchid, had told her that their ancestors had once been a part of a large group of cats living together and that they had established fighting techniques. Those techniques had been passed down through their line and, while they certainly weren't the original moves anymore, were taught to and utilized by everyone in her family. Where is my family? the beautiful she-cat thought to herself as she trekked through the thick undergrowth. She hadn't seen her littermates in quite a few moons, nor her mother. She had never met her father or the other half-siblings she knew she had. She didn't care to meet them. Her nuclear family was bad enough as it was, even though she did care for them. Thinking about her family, Primrose easily got lost in her thoughts and stopped paying attention to her surrounds. Eventually she left the forest and entered the moors without realizing it. She began nearing a hill quite quickly, a hill on which a solitary cat stood. Primrose didn't realize this until she was just a few fox-lengths from him and could easily see the colors of his pelt. Freezing in her tracks, Primrose's body tensed up and all thoughts immediately silenced. She said nothing.
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