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Post by aether on Mar 2, 2021 0:13:25 GMT -5
Brooksong (HeronClan) + Jackdawstar (RippleClan)Riverstrike || parisiansteve RippleClan Woodlands
Brooksong moved a few paces ahead of the group, glancing back and forth as though she expected the fox to crash through the woodland and take off with the injured leader at any second. It was an interesting contrast to her actions before in which she openly displayed her displeasure at being expected to help the black tom. Brooksong glanced back over her shoulder, her green eyes slightly narrowed, and they lingered over the tom. He moved with confidence despite the pain that flared in his eyes and showed in his tense jaw. We'd better not get in trouble for helping you, she thought warily. More than anything she didn't want Riverstrike to fall into harms way from the excursion, her friend had the tendency to remain passive when Brooksong thought she should be more headstrong. Briefly, she felt a sister-like affection for her friend. Only Riverstrike would dive head-first into battle against a fox for a RippleClan cat. The rest of the trek seem to remain uneventful. As they pressed deeper into the strange territory Brooksong slowed her pace to allow Jackdawstar to take the lead for she had never been to the camp. Even she could feel sympathy for him now, his yellow eyes appeared duller with exhaustion now. His bedraggled coat was matted by blood and his breath had become sharp when he pressed forward. Nonetheless, he did press forward.
The strange scents of the forest wafted into her nose and she could already pick up prey-scents on the breeze. Newleaf certainly seemed to bring more prey to the forest than it did the marshy wetlands and the fact reminded Brooksong of her animosity towards the forest cats. She would be hospitable now when it was needed, but she surely would not go out of her way to be friendly with these cats. She huffed indignantly to herself, her ears pricking as Riverstrike shared gentle words with the injured tom. She felt trouble on the horizon like a grey cloud that was destined to turn to a storm. Her instincts were true, although not in the ways she expected.
"Jackdawstar?!" The alarmed voice came from a short distance away. The crash of paws through the undergrowth moved closer until Bramblefang's lean tabby form exploded from the shrubbery. Brooksong flattened her ears and reeled backwards, sending an alarmed glanced to Riverstrike. "What-what's going on here?" Bramblefang's dark green eyes turned from his injured leader to the two HeronClan cats that stood at his sides.
Jackdawstar couldn't have thought his deputy could have worse timing. He'd been about to advise Riverstrike that he could continue the rest of the journey alone - which he wasn't completely sure he could at the rate he was going - because he wanted to prevent any troubles from arising. Yet in front of him stood his loyal deputy who bristled like a porcupine, staring with pure hostility, but the tom couldn't decide whether to look at Brooksong or Riverstrike. Jackdawstar knew one thing for sure: he wouldn't let a fight break out here. "Relax, Bramblefang. These two warriors saved my life." He walked forward on painfully stiff legs to confront the tabby, standing in the way if Bramblefang intended to leap into action. However, at his words, Bramblefang seemed to ease somewhat. His eyes turned to his leader and widened at the state of his injuries.
Bramblefang was silent for a few exaggerated heartbeats, assessing the situation with quiet seriousness. Finally, he yielded. "If they saved your life then we should be thankful." He glanced back to the she-cats and gave a small nod, "I will take it from here... thank you." The words seemed to seep from his throat like a bad smell. He didn't look pleased to be thanking the HeronClan cats. "You may leave."
Jackdawstar bite his tongue against refuting his deputies coldness; he'd already embarrassed himself enough for one day. He glanced back and blinked gratefully to the two warriors, allowing his gaze to linger for a few moments before Bramblefang started to nose him back towards the camp. The tightness in his chest seemed to grip harder like a tormenting claw but it wasn't from the pain. He was reluctant to leave. What was it about that blue warrior that intrigued so much now, when he'd never felt that way before?
Raising her chin haughtily, Brooksong held back the urge to growl. The leaves around the two toms rustled as they pushed past, leaving them alone. "Sheesh, he didn't seem friendly," she grumbled and looked back to Riverstrike, "I guess that's what you get for helping." There was a sarcastic tone to her voice, but it faded quickly. She stepped forward and brushed her muzzle over her friends shoulder, "Let's get you back to camp, Heathersong should look you over."
[ it's fun! it's basically just glorified problem solving haha.
duuuuude you're writing your honors thesis? OOOO: that's crazy, and what a topic! ngl, i was never good at history and essays, but i do appreciate learning the fun facts about it. that definitely sounds intense and time-consuming though. but you'll get it done no doubt! afterwards you'll feel so proud of yourself and it'll be great <3
lmao i get that xD we'll just imagine she is, no worries ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 2, 2021 21:37:15 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
rippleclan terrirtory.
aether Brooksong
Riverstrike felt her fur bristle instincitvely as Bramblefang approached. She met her clanmate's startled gaze with her own, ears pressing flat against her head. A sinking feeling appeared in the pit of her stomach and a cold chill of alarm trailed down her spine. Her fears of encountering a rival warrior had been confirmed; the already complicated situation was further intensified by the RippleClan deputy's presence. Riverstrike fixed her pale blue gaze on Bramblefang, meeting his furrowed gaze with her own intensity. Although the warrior molly was renowned for being a pushover, she could occassionally dig out a bit of ferocity now and again. This was evidenced in her fight against the fox earlier, but also by her defense body language in this moment. A pang of anger ran through her as Bramblefang uttered a measly apology. She resisted the urge to offer a biting retort, flicking her tail in irritation behind her. Typical RippleClan, she hissed inwardly, huffing an indigant breath. The least you could do is fake it better.
Riverstrike's hostility melted away, however, when Jackdawstar moved forward to join his second-in-command in returning to camp. She felt space open up next to her when he had been standing. The emptiness felt more palpable than usual - like something was suddenly missing. There was a creeping tightness that entered her muscles, though not from anger or annoyance. The words to describe the feeling escaped her in the moment and she blinked against the sensation. The rival leader's lingering yellow gaze felt hot against her pelt. In what felt like a mere heartbeat, his black form was engulfed by the thick undergrowth and before her stood that same empty space. Although the episode in which they had been involved experienced closure, such was not the case for the blue warrior - a gap had opened up within her, not present before this encounter. It was confounding.
Riverstrike was shaken out of her uncharacteristic stupor by Brooksong's words. They felt far away, like the molly was yelling from across the river. "Yeah..." she offered mindlessly, furrowing her brow slightly at whatever sensation had taken ahold of her. Brooksong's affectionate nuzzle brought her all the way back, and her full attention returned to her. She rolled her eyes playfully at her companion's jeer. Usually she would had shto back a retort, but words escaped her. That is, until the tabby molly brought attention back to her wound. An intense shock of pain seared across Riverstrike's cheek, where the wound still lay open. The blood had stopped flowing from it and had now matted the blue fur around it. The warrior winced and sucked in a sharp breath. "I didn't realize it was that deep." She started back in the direction of camp, brushing her tail against her friend's side in gratitude. Her light blue eyes adopted a seriousness, along with her tone. "Thank you for doing that. Really. It was... rash. We really could have gotten hurt, and i was worried about you. I shouldn't have put you in that position." Riverstrike set her gaze forward, back in the direction of the river. Evening had settled upon the land, and the air held a slight chill - characteristic of newleaf. The sky was a brilliant conflagration of orange and purple, tinged with some lingering pink. The other warriors were no doubt wondering where they had been for so long; Cedarpelt would be heading out for the night shift after their return. The thought of encountering the haughty tom annoyed the HeronClan warrior. "What do you think Oakstar and all of them will say when we get back?" Apprehension returned to her voice. She knew they had to tell the truth, but didn't know exactly how it would be received by her proud and plucky clan.
[ I'm sure it's more than that! ^^ You're doing important work ~
Yeah! I totally get that xD it's definitely an exhausting practice. History fun facts are amazing! lots o fun. Thank you so much for your support! I can't wait for it to be done!!! ]
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Post by aether on Mar 3, 2021 17:01:43 GMT -5
Brooksong (HeronClan) + Jackdawstar (RippleClan)Riverstrike || parisiansteve RippleClan Woodlands
I must see her again. Jackdawstar hardly heard Bramblefang's voice at his side, his tone serious but straining to be respectful. I need to thank her properly. The full moon was only in a few night-cycles. When I have more strength, I'll find her. He glanced backwards despite the pain, he yearned to find a glimpse of her blue form. She was gone now, he knew that, but he willed the forest to prove him wrong. Anticipation itched in his paws. Something was going to happen...
***
Admiration curled like a wave and crashed in Brooksong's chest, flooding into her heart and seeping down to her paws. Where the tabby and white could be proud and imperious, Riverstrike was honest and fair. At the blue she-cats grateful expression, Brooksong merely rolled her eyes playfully and gently bumped her shoulder against her friends as they walked. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone charge as bravely into battle as you did," there was a difference between battling over a scrap of territory and battling to save a stranger. Brooksong had witnessed many brave HeronClan cats throw themselves into the swell of a fight, but she couldn't say the same for cats who crossed the border to save another without dithering. "Just make sure next time you only do it if I know I'm there to help," a soft rumbling purr sounded, "I'll always make sure nothing bad happens to you." Despite the light-hearted tone there was a serious glint to Brooksong's green gaze. Her words were truthful, there was no doubt about that.
The she-cat ducked beneath outstretched branches and followed Riverstrike as the undergrowth forced them to weave around shrubs and leap over fallen logs and boughs. In the distance, the gurgling river sent a fresh-smelling breeze through the green undergrowth. Home was nearby. When they crossed the river, Brooksong would truly feel comfortable. The mushy leaf-litter under her paws was fine, but the pulpy mud and thin reeds was where she felt at home. Her ears perked again at Riverstrike's voice and she hesitated. Would they get in trouble for saying they helped a RippleClan cat? Not if Oakstar finds out valuable information; that Jackdawstar is injured. "Oakstar will probably be pleased to hear that the RippleClan leader is weak." There was a scoff to her tone upon mentioning the opposing clan. She straightened, her soft chest-fur sticking out, "It honestly couldn't have come at a better time, how will they be able to defend their borders now? Everyone will probably be proud to hear that we have information," Her eyes glimmered at the thought. The molly was truly a HeronClan warrior.
They neared the river and Brooksong opened her maw to take in the scents, tasting the foul tang of fox alongside the metallic scent of blood. The scents were still fresh, but they were becoming duller as the river-swept breeze turned it over. The fox didn't seem to be nearby now, thankfully. Brooksong pushed ahead and bunched her muscles to leap onto the fallen tree. She balanced precariously atop it, her claws slipping over its smooth top, and she scrambled unceremoniously to the other side. She fluffed out her coat and glanced back to Riverstrike to ensure she crossed safely too. "I think we'd better be more concerned about Cedarpelt complaining we're late. Let's hurry," Without the blanket of trees to cover the sky Brooksong was more aware of the time. The sun was sinking deeper and deeper into the wall of trees at the far side of the marsh. She picked up the pace, trotting with high-paws through the reeds.
[ thank you Cx <3
What's your favourite part of studying it? Got any fun facts? :3 It'll be a huge achievement when you're done - it's no small feat, so you should feel proud you're doing it! ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 3, 2021 23:55:01 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
HeronClan Riverbank.
aether Brooksong.
The affection in Brooksong's guarantee warmed the blue-grey warrrior. A small smile danced across the molly's delicate features as she emerged from the undergrowth. Suddenly, all feelings of attraction toward Jackdawsta - no matter how distractingly tumultuous - disappeared from Riverstrike's mind. Loyalty to her clan and kin swelled in her chest, rippling through her with the strength of the coursing river which they approached. No matter what political turmoil engulfed the neigboring clans, Riverstrike knew she could count on her companions, even if they were a broodish and overbearing on occasion. She didn't offer a response to Brooksong's praise - she let the words linger in the breaking humidity, allowing herself a moment to relish. Bravery was not often something of which the warrior was often accused. Diplomatic, maybe. Too forgiving or too serious, definitely. But brave... That was a treat.
As the familiar marshland came into view, Riverstike felt the pull of home tug at her heart. Although she had amittedly enjoyed the sensation of the forest, namely the towering trees and the secluded comfort of the lush undergrowth, she longed for the musty scent of the bog. Frogsong chirped in the distance, occasioanlly accenting the constant drone of crickets and other insects. Saw-whet owls sent out their staccato cries, signalling the arrival of night in HeronClan territory. A slight chill had caught a ride on the previously warm breeze, turning the air crisp and refreshing. Riverstrike relished in the scents and sounds. Her ears swiveled tward Brooksong, however, when the molly began to speak.
The blue warrior considered her words. The tabby warrior was most likely correct - Oakstar would be thrilled that Jackdawstar was now indebted to HeronClan. Concern tightened around her heart like a vice grip. They were nearing a Gathering, and Oakstar would take every opportuntiy to push RippleClan further into giving her what her warriors demanded. Now that she had leverage, it would be easier to domineer the negotiations, to manipulate the situation and gain favor. "You're right," Riverstrike's voice sounded strained, almost anxious. It was typical of the molly to be fed up with politics. She was often exhausted by the discussion, bored by the prosaic flexing and posturing of her arrogant friends as they spouted their belligerent delusions of grandeur. Similar to what Brooksong was going on about now. But the anxiety that colored Riverstrike's words was different in this instance - it was almost like she was afraid, or... sympethetic in some way. Even she was surprised when this tone was detected. Riverstrike shot a quick glance in Brooksong's direction, straightening her posture slightly. In an effort to save face, the molly pivoted. "She'll definitely use this at the next Gathering to get what cats have been asking for. It should be an interesting debate, at least." She watched her friend jump onto the crossing log and cross clumsily, folloeing suit in a similar manner. Once she had successfully landed on the oposite bank, she laughed lightly at Brooksong's warning. "Oh, whatever! I say let him squirm. He could use a good exercise in patience." Despite her sardonic words, Riverstrike hurried her pace to match Brooksong. Her friend was right - Cedarpelt was due to leave for the night shift at any moment, and would surely get ornery if they made it to camp any later than he desired them to.
CEDARPELT
HeronClan warrior. tom.
HeronClan camp entrance.
Cedarpelt paced back and forth outside the threshhold to HeronClan's camp, dark green eyes trained intently on his white paws. Irritation wafted off the arrogant tom as he awaited Brooksong and Riverstrike's return from patrol. His tail flicked rapidly back and forth, settling low by his hind paws. The sun had already begun to sink low on the horizon, turning the sky a pale shae of indigo. The moon - just mere cycles away from full - was already encroaching upon the territory the sun routinely abdicated each night. Where are those mousbrains!? Timeliness was something Cedarpelt cared too deeply about, especially when he was to start the nightwatch. An earlier start meant less time skulking in the deep, inky darkness that befell the marsh after sunset. Pragmatics aside, it was the principle of the situation that so profoundly bothered the warrior. Lateness, for Cedarpelt, was synonymous with incompetence, laziness, and a lack of dedication - he was unforgiving in this regard.
The rustle of reeds pulled the russet tom from his fervent stupor. His pacing halted abruptly as he raised his head, ears perked in the direction of the sound. One paw raised expectantly beneath him, claws unsheathed in case of potential danger. He opened his maw slightly to take in the scent of the approaching figure, only to discover it was his truant clanmates. Cedarpelt's large form, tense from alerntess, relaxed into a petulant anger. His deep green eyes blazed with annoyance as Riverstrike and Brooksong emerged into the clearing that led to HeronClan's entrance. "Took you long enough." he grumbled in a low voice, moving to meet them halfway. As he neared, the metallic, repulsive scent of fox slammed into him. Cedarpelt recoiled, huffing with digust. "What in StarClan happened to you two? What, were you playing in fox dens or something? Even the kits know not to..." His voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of Riverstrike's wound. His body language softened a bit, betraying the small bit of sympathy he felt for the mollies. That is, until the slight, almost faded scent of RippleClan wandered to his senses. He recognized it as the scent of Jackdawstar from the many instances in which he antagonized and hassled the tom at their recent Gathering.
One could see the tom's process of rationalization on his features. Slight sympathy and concern gave way to confusion, which then gave way to realization as he connected the dots. Cedarpelt's eyes widened with delight, tail swishing excitedly behind him. "Oh, no way..." His voice brimmed with boyish laughter as he regarded his fellow warrior. "No way! Did a fox finally get that measly, minnow-hearted excuse RippleClan has for a leader? Oh, wait until Oakstar and Larkstripe here about this. The river will finally be ours to claim, with them out of the way." Cedarpelt was bursting with victory, chest puffed out in anticipatory pride. His eyes gleamed with morbid excitement.
Riverstrike felt an intense anger begin to mount in her chest as Cedarpelt inflated with joy. Her pale blue eys darkened with frustration, chest welling with defensiveness. How dare he talk about another clan leader like that! Especially Jackdawstar, who seemed to be nothing but a kind, intelligent soul. The blue warrior's tail flicked behind her, signalling her rage to Brooksong. Admonishing words threatened to tumble from the molly's mouth as she raised her head to speak.
[ hmmm i would say my favorite part is the storytelling aspect. I find history to kind of be like one big collective narrative that can be used to describe human behavior without getting to science-y or techincal. it's all about decision making, which is super cool.
I used to study ancient Greek and Roman history as a first year, and one of my favorite facts from that information was that the Roman emperor Gaius made is favorite horse a senator. A literal, acting senator. Which just makes me laugh, yknow? I would probably do something silly like that, too, so i like it xD Do you have a favorite fun fact?? history OR computer science! ] |
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Post by aether on Mar 4, 2021 16:28:45 GMT -5
Brooksong (HeronClan)Riverstrike + Cedarpelt || parisiansteve HeronClan Camp
Admittedly, Brooksong found herself glancing to Riverstrike with narrowed eyes while the blue cat trotted along, noting the strain that edged her tone. Brooksong had no inkling as to what caused the pique in her words but it made an uneasy feeling fester, as though ants had crawled up her pelt from her paws and were now itching down her spine. She had no reason to distrust her friend - Riverstrike's following words showed that - but she had a moment of doubt. What's with her right now? She lifted her chin to stare ahead once more, her pace quickening, and her mind clouded. She'd acted strangely when she'd been with Jackdawstar too. Riverstrike was gentler than the usual HeronClan warrior, perhaps her tone was a reflection of that.
Brooksong rolled her eyes in exasperation when she saw Cedarpelt's familiar orange and white form. She often quarreled with the tom over trivial topics, much like everyone in the clan, due to the toms melodramatic nature and snide comments. When he opened his mouth and words began to spill she already felt the fur bristling at the base of her tail. It was easy to forget about her concerns regarding Riverstrike when Cedarpelt was saying something stupid. Obviously, Brooksong cared for RippleClan as much as the next HeronClan warrior (which was very little), but there was something about Cedarpelt's unadulterated arrogance that caused her to feel argumentative. "Hey, mousebrain, sorry to tell you but Jackdawstar isn't dead. Besides, it's none of your business." Her tone was flat in an effort to shut-down Cedarpelt. But he had puffed out his chest like a cocky kit and Brooksong doubted it would ever be possible to ground him.
She glanced to Riverstrike and could see the strained effort to not snap back. "Come on, we need to talk to Oakstar." She meowed to her friend, her green eyes shot back to Cedarpelt, "Why don't you go patrol? Make yourself useful," she lifted her chin haughtily and pushed past without giving the tom the chance to open his mouth. Her ears flicked in irritation, the encounter lingering. "I wish he'd learn to mind his own business. I wouldn't care if he just disappeared forever!" She stamped indignantly towards the leaders den.
[ woah your post has so much detail 10/10. *chefs kiss*.
did you want to rp the interaction with oakstar or should we skip to the day before the gathering where jackdawstar waits for riverstrike by the river?
the story-telling aspect is nice, i think that's the only part that kept me awake in history class when in high school xD also making a horse a senator... same. i don't really have any compsci facts since i'm still a noob but my favourite historical moment is probably the great emu war in which they wanted to cull a bunch of emus but they lost the war xD ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 4, 2021 23:42:27 GMT -5
oh thank u friend that makes me very happy <3 i have so much fun writing with you - it's sucha great story
I don't feel the need to RP oakstar, I can just do that at the gathering - we can totally skip.
THE EMU WAR. iconic nonsense. I don't know a whole lot about that, so if you have details that would be funny for sure - it seems like a downright ruckus and I love it xD
Oh, and btw, just wanted to let you know that today and tomorrow are extremely busy days for me with school work and regular work, so I might not be able to get that reply up until maybe sometime in the afternoon my time tomorrow. if not then, then the next day for sure! Didn't want ya to think i've ducked out! ^^
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Post by aether on Mar 5, 2021 5:54:39 GMT -5
It had been difficult to get out of Whiteflower's medicine cat den without causing a scene. The lanky, short-haired healer tried fervently to keep the black leader curled into his nest where he could rest and heal, but his tail flicked with impatient irritation and the silence of the den was often filled with the sounds of longing sighs. It had been Whiteflower who snapped first. "Can you please stop sitting there like a sad apprentice?!" Seeing the healer lose her cool was something that Jackdawstar saw infrequently, so he'd recoiled in his nest. "Why don't you go and get some air? Your legs could do with a stretch." There had been a strain to her tone as she had forced her neck-fur flat and her tail to still, trying to regain some tenderness, "Don't go too far though, you aren't ready to move too much and the gathering is tonight. Don't exhaust yourself." After that, Jackdawstar scampered out of the den like a kit leaving camp for the first time, Whiteflower's yellow gaze followed him with narrowed chary.
The bitter smelling poultices that Whiteflower had placed on his wounds already eased the pain he felt in each movement although his neck was still bruised from being shaken by the fox. However, the further he walked he could feel the tingling sensation begin once more. The sunlight filtered through the interlaced branches above and the light flickering as the trees swayed dreamily in the Newleaf breeze. A low-hanging twig scraped over his back and he tensed against the pain. I should head back.He'd wandered so aimlessly that when he raised his head to regain his position he realised he'd wandered nearby the river. Instinctively, he shuddered as he recalled the fox fight. The black tom opened his maw and allowed the nearby scents to mingle; feeling relief when the scent of fox was no where to be found. The fresh aroma of the river drew him nearer, it wafted around his paws and moved him closer. I wonder if I'll see Riverstrike, the thought of the blue she-cat made his ears feel warm. Suddenly bashful, he stepped to the rivers edge and bent his head to lap at the cool, refreshing water.
His head still low, he peered across the river. The waters song-like purl drowned out the sounds of birdsong behind him in the woodlands, and momentarily, Jackdawstar frowned. How could something so beautiful be the separation of the two clans? A source of life was now a source of animosity and quarrels. His frown slowly lifted, Riverstrike seemed aptly named; like the river, she was beautiful, but she forbade the borders and selflessly saved him without hesitation. Jackdawstar slowly straightened up, wincing as his neck began to ache from too much movement, it was beginning to feel damp around his scruff, he was regretful to return to camp and face Whiteflower. He ambled upwards against the river, the crossing bridge which had been a speck upstream now was a mere fox-length away.
He knew he should return to camp. He felt the weight of his responsibility begin to set on his shoulders, settling down, applying pressure, forcing him back to camp. He pressed his legs firmly and fought against the weight, gazing longingly across the river. He knew what he wanted to see. He eyed the reeds opposite his territory, twitching his tail hopefully at each breeze that caused them to rustle. The weight pressed down harder; he had to return to camp. Instead, his paws crumbled beneath him and he tucked them under his chest, now tucked beside the crossing bridge. I should rest anyway, he reasoned, Whiteflower would want me to rest. His excuse was thin but he didn't care for the validity of it, instead he wanted to be selfish for once. If she did happen to come by the river what would he even say? He curled his tail around his side, settling down to muse.
[ i am thoroughly enjoying this too!
honestly i don't even know much about the war, only that it exists and is hilarious xD
also that's completely fine! real life things are super important so no stress if you can't get a reply up. thank you for the heads up though <3 but if ever you do just get busy and can't come on that's okay, i'm always on so i'll be around when you come back Cx ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 7, 2021 22:31:27 GMT -5
woohoo im back! getting my reply up now ~
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 7, 2021 23:23:46 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
&
HEATHERSONG
HeronClan medicine cat. molly.
Whistling Reeds/River Border
aether Jackdawstar
Late Newleaf seemed to be in full force this particular afternoon. The sun peaked from behind large white clouds that passed lazily through the sky, scuttling along with a gentle breeze. The air smelled of new life and freshness as seasonal plants emerged fully from their winter states. Color had once again returned to the marshland, which had taken on a rather dull, frozen complexion during Leafbare. Bitterns and cranes waded elegantly through the shallows, their spindly legs submerged in the murky, nutrient-dense waters of HeronClan's territory. Riverstrike relished in the season, stretching her lithe grey body to its fullest length as she exited the camp. She allowed a deep sigh to rumble from her throat as a small smile danced across her features. The world had been revived and now it was just showing off - the warrior wouldn't complain. She had always been a bit of a lush for the sunlight, especially in the months of before the squelching heat of Greenleaf enforced its vice grip among the marshland. She could feel the humidity creeping into the air with every breath she took in the passing days, and she wanted to enjoy the mild weather while it lasted. That's why she offered to accompany Heathersong to the riverbank for some herb collection. Besides, the cream-colored medicine cat had been hovering incessently the past few days, showing an exaggerated amount of concern for the small wound on the blue molly's cheek. Of course, the thing was quite deep, but it had healed nicely in the last few days. Heathersong had ensured that the molly was applying poultices and different herbacious cocktails to it various times throughout the day, and it had taken well to the expertly curated treatment. Still, the medicine cat was preoccupied with its progress. If she wanted so badly to keep an eye on Riverstrike, it wouldn't hurt to actually get some exercise and enjoyment out of the whole thing, anyway.
Besides, she had always enjoyed Heathersong's company. Aside from Brooksong and Cherrynose, she considered the mild-tempered molly to be one of her closest friends. Sure, she could be a little odd on occassion, but it was never anything harmful. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to find Heathersong mumbling to herself or waxing some airy, complicated poetic about the philosophy of life and the Clan's place in the world. Some cats in the proud HeronClan ranks found the unusually beautiful medicine cat to be simple, or even vapid, but Riverstrike didn't see it that way. In fact, she found Heathersong to be exceedingly intelligent - just not in a way that she could necessarily understand. Even now, as they approached the marshland, Heathersong could be heard whispering the names of herbs and tinctures under her breath, almost in conversation with herself as she trailed behind Riverstrike.
Suddenly, the light-pelted molly came out of her mindless stupor. "Oh we must hurry, actually," Heathersong's melodic voice announced her appearance as she picked up her pace to match the blue warrior. "I forgot that the sunlight tampers with the effectiveness of the yarrow plant's leaves! There's a fresh patch by the riverbank that I saw just a few days ago when Ottercoat and I went foraging." Excitement shown brightly in her gold eyes as she discussed the state of her herbs. It was clear that the molly took great pleasure in knowing what she did, though not in a pretentious way, like it would with Finchtail or Cedarpelt. Genuine pleasure is a better phrase for it.
But this excitement was quickly thwarted by a rising sense of fear. Heathersong paused briefly as they emerged from the reeds, the riverbank in site. Her large ears flattened against her hea and she recoiled a bit. Riverstrike cocked her head in question, her pale blue eyes flitting suspiciously between the medicine cat and the riverbank. Heathersong seemed frozen in fear, her eyes as big as the night's coming full moon. "Uh... Heathersong?" the blue molly ventured cautiously, moving to stand a little closer to her friend. A small bit of bemusement colored her voice. "Are you alright?" She stifled a laugh, watching as Heathersong began to tremble in kit-like fear. The cream-colored cat peeled her eyes off the riverbank to focus on Riverstrike, ears still pressed tightly against her small skull. "Oh, Riverstrike, aren't you just petrified?" The molly's voice was imploring, full of authentic misunderstanding. "Th-That's where the fox was! The fox that-that bit you! Well, I just simply cannot go over there. What if the nasty old creature is still there?!" Her yellow eyes widened even further as the hair bristled on her scruff. "Even worse - what if there are RippleClan cats waiting to taunt, tease, and tangle us up in some no-good, mousebrained business?! Well, I just can't... I-"
"Heathersong, relax," Riverstrike softened, running her tail affectionately along the molly's side. This was also not uncharacteristic of her medicine cat companion. Heathersong was a unique character, and had a profoundly impressive skill for healing, but brave she was not. It had been evident from the day she was a kit that she would not be a warrior - her nature was too innocent, too peaceful. Just the thought of conflict made her legs weak and her body quiver like a the last, lonely leaf on a barren branch in the Leafbare wind. The stress she had felt over the political mess had only been compounded by the fox altercation Riverstrike and Brooksong had the other day. "Why don't I go get the yarrow from the riverbank, and you stay here and collect some algae for that new, uh, thing you wanted to try and make the other day. You remember right?" The blue warrior's voice was warm and calming and she fixed her light blue gaze with Heathersong's frantic one. A smile curled onto her face, along with a small purr in her voice. This seemed to significaly relax the medicine cat, who began nodding in agreement. The fur went down on the slender molly's shoulders, and her ears swiveled to an upright position. "Yes, yes..." Heathersong murmured absent-mindedly, her thoughts now distracted by the concotion she was aiming to try. "Yes that's a good - a great idea Riverstrike! I'll meet you back here in just a bit." The same fiery joy returned to the medicine cat's nature. "Well, I just don't know how you warriors do it! Always thinking, always thinking..." The molly's voice trailed off, following her like a benign ghost as she returned into the reeds, their their cinnamon-white fronds closing over her like-colored pelt.
Riverstrike shook her head and chuckled, smiling at Heathersong's oddities. At least she's not absolute fox-dung like Cedarpelt... Tne blue-grey warrior put some energy into her step as she heaed toward the riverbank. Gentle contentment settled over her as she moseyed into a daydream of seeing Jackdawstar again. Although she knew the RippleClan leader was more than likely on strict, serious bedrest, she couldn't help but think of the possibility of seeing him again today. Ever since the fox encounter, she had not been able to get the black-pelted tom out of her mind. He encroached upon nearly every thought, plaguing her with his image, his voice, his smell... She felt foolish and youthful, like a silly apprentice with delusions of grown-up grandeur. Sure, it was embarrassing and difficult to admit - especially since Oakstar and her clanmates were positively in raptures over the thought of the rival leader's incapacitation - but Riverstrike ultimately enjoyed this feeling. It put a grin on her face, just thinking of it even. But she digressed. There was a task at hand that required at least some brainpower. Riverstrike happened upon the riverbank, searching closely in his shallows and nearby to find the patch of yarrow that Heathersong so desperately needed. She was only a few lengths away from the crossing bridge, where Jackdawstar sat, unbeknownst to her in her lackadaisical state.
[ woops she's kind of long i'm so sorry o.o
Also that bit about Riverstrike's name in your post was so beautiful and poetic!!!! ] |
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Post by aether on Mar 8, 2021 17:18:03 GMT -5
The black tom closed his eyes briefly, relaxing his muscles further as the sun eased over the forest and pooled over his pelt. Behind him, he could hear the skittering of small paws over the dried leaf-litter. The wind was pushing Jackdawstar's scent away from himself so he wasn't able to directly scent what animal it was, but from the small sounds, he imagined it to be a mouse or shrew. He heard a splatter of water and he opened his eyes to see the shimmer of fish scales as it nipped at food-things on the surface of the water. He had been sat for some time now, waiting patiently, but he felt a sense of responsibility. Regretfully, he glanced back over the river, it would have been to good to be true... What would he have done if her blue-grey figure slipped through the reeds?
He didn't have a heartbeat to ponder before just that happened. He ducked his head further back to hide himself, although his black pelt was well-camouflaged into the brown, green, and blacks of the undergrowth. The reflection of the water scintillated against her pelt as she padded beside it; he felt the air constrict out of his lungs. She looked like a beautiful spirit-cat! So youthful and glowing. His heart pounded in his chest, fluttering as she neared the crossing bridge. He didn't want to disturb her yet he yearned so strongly to speak to her. He had to speak to her. Slowly, he pushed himself to his paws - ignoring the stiffness from his neck - and he teetered by the riverbank. "Riverstrike?" His voice was uncertain and soft, the sound of the gurgling river swallowed it. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Riverstrike!" He called again, this time more certain, feeling his pelt warm shyly. What would she say? He felt a claw of uncertainty reach and tug on his heartstrings... what if she wanted nothing to do with him after the trouble he had caused? He shifted on his paws.
"I was hoping I could talk to you," he looked at her with longing yellow eyes, admiring once more the way the rivers reflection danced over her lithe frame. He was reminded again of her unique beautiful that made him shuffle his paws like a bashful apprentice, her green eyes were so vivid and kind that he wanted to lose him staring at them. Yet, he was putting everything on the line in this moment. Riverstrike was a valuable, loyal asset to HeronClan. Who was Jackdawstar to assume she'd be willing to give him anymore time especially since she'd already saved him once? He hated to admit that she could very easily take this meeting as a show of weakness, a show that the RippleClan leader was nosing around HeronClan. Why was it that despite these thoughts, he was determined to stay? It was selfish of him to put his own desires in front of his own clan? He recalled Riverstrike's gentle voice and sweet gaze when she'd helped him back towards the camp as opposed to Brooksong's haughty attitude and suspicious stares. Riverstrike was different. From anyone he'd ever met. He set his shoulders and gave the faintest of a nod to himself. This is okay, he thought, why shouldn't I be happy? He'd watched his sister Drizzlefur as she'd fallen in love and started her family and he was incredibly happy for her but he wanted to feel that too. He looked at Riverstrike with his heart displayed in his eyes, he'd made his move, now she would make hers.
[ it was a great read! sorry mines a bit short Cx
thank you! ^U^]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 9, 2021 22:28:18 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
The River
aether Jackdawstar
A voice from across the coursing waters floated gently into Riverstrikes thoughts, breaking her out of a stupor. The first call, lilting in a questioning manner, felt like a dream. Her heart seized briefly with anxious hope. She was about to abandon her delusions, preparing to curse herself for being so smitten. However, the second call made her stomach drop. The blue warrior spun around, her paws splashing ungracefully in the shallows that she had waded into the look for Heathersong's herbs. Her pale blue gaze locked with Jackdawstar's, wide with startled bewilderment. Where did he come from?! she thought increduolously. He couldn't have been far from her initial position on the riverbank, when she emerged from Whistling Reeds. The fur that had bristled slightly on her shoulders smoothed gently, and she let a small chuckle escape her. "Oh, Jackdawstar," she replied breathlessly, backing out of the water to stand firmly on HeronClan's side of the river. "Well, I didn't see you at all. I-I'm so sorry, I would've said hello." Riverstrike stifled a self-deprecating wince. She could tell her energy was scattered and marked by anxiety. She had hoped to come off as cool, collected, and calm next time she saw the black tom. In fact, she had imagined their next interaction many times, in various different scenarios. Her fumbling in the water like a startled kit wad certainly never included in those fantasies.
The warrior made a concerted effort to take in a deep breath, despite her racing heart. It was too good to be true! She hadn't expected at all to see the leader on the border this morning, especially not the night before a gathering as important as this one. She could tell that his muscles were still aching from their fight from the fox, the smell of herbacious poultices strong even across the water. His wounds were still healing - tonight would certainly be a challenge for him, physically and emotionally, she could imagine. Questions burned on her tongue, impatiently waiting their turn to be asked, when Jackdawstar revealed his desire to speak with her. A tingle of delight shot down her spine at this mysterious invitation. Her heartbeat increased in speed.
Still, she had regained her placid disposition after the initial shock, and endeavored to maintain it. Riverstrike blinked slowly, ears perking in interest. "Of course," she meowed softly in her sing-song tone, a small smile dancing across her features. Her pale eyes were brightened by palpable, observable excitement. The same attraction she had unexpectedly felt at the time of their first encounter returned, though its pull was even stronger now. There was something quite irresistable about the tom, something that she couldn't articulate. There was a calmness to him, a feeling of relief and contentedness. He was like sunlight, sweeping heavy clouds away after a great storm, or warmth after a brutal leafbare. He promised hope and excitement, and something akin to affection. Of course, Riverstrike knew she could just be smitten with him, like an apprentice with a warrior - an innocent, youthful infatuation. After all, Jackdawstar was a respected and venerable leader. He was diplomatic and thoughtful. Anyone who watched him at work during gatherings would no doubt fancy something about him. And yet. she still found this feeling.... different. "Anything you need. I hope you're feeling alright, by the way." Riverstrike gathered her paws underneath her as she settled into a sitting position, tail curling around her paws as she eyed him expectantly.
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Post by aether on Mar 10, 2021 17:16:00 GMT -5
[ hey! i have to work today so i'll reply after ^-^ ]
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Post by aether on Mar 10, 2021 20:12:31 GMT -5
Jackdawstar felt a palpable pull tugging him towards the molly as she fumbled on the bank of the river but he stayed planted on the spot. If he crossed the bridge he would be in HeronClan's territory and he didn't want to risk being seen or scented by someone else. He dipped his head to her respectfully when she returned her the greeting and merely shrugged off shyly the thought of her taking the time to greet him if she'd seen him. The earth by the river was softer and his paws began to sank where he stood leaning over the edge, he pushed back a pace and curled his tail. In all honesty, the tom hated getting wet. His pelt was so long and thick that when it rained it would stick to his pelt like cement and take twice as long to dry as his clanmates. It was one of the reasons he was so thankful to be part of RippleClan where they trudged the dry forest and were protected by the umbrella-like leaves. As opposed to HeronClan cats who opted to hunt in the open marsh and sink their paws into the mud. Looking across the water, his heart fluttered by like a bird, and he felt a stirring feeling akin to fondness. He would wade through the river if it meant getting to the other side where she sat. Now, though, he sat down and curled his tail over his front paws. He wanted to talk with Riverstrike more and gauge her own emotions before he threw himself at her paws like a lovesick fool.
Her words fell upon his ears like a song and he found himself straining to hear more. He smiled to her, "I'm feeling much better, thanks to you." He dipped his head again to display his thankfulness but winced at the stiffness and pain that the movement sent from his neck to his tail. He was definitely still feeling tender. "I wanted to say, uh-" his words stopped abruptly. What do I want to say? He wanted to say a lot of things. He opened his maw to speak but it worked wordlessly until he slammed it shut once more, his pelt warming with embarrassment. You made it seem like you had something important to say! His paws shifted nervously and he opened his mouth again, albeit less confidently, only to follow the same routine. His tail began to flick timidly on the earth and he turned his head to avoid her gaze. I didn't plan what to say, I just wanted to hear her talk. He realized that he looked daft as she eyed him expectantly and he finally cleared his throat. He opened his mouth again, this time letting words topple out without much thought of what they were, "I hope I didn't cause any trouble with you and Brooksong, I feel as though I'd like to make it up to you; show how thankful I am." How would he accomplish that if they weren't able to cross the river and meet eye to eye? "After the gathering tonight maybe we can talk again?" His voice pitched in hopeful anticipation.
Would Riverstrike return the same sentiment? Or would she, like most warriors would, simply brush off the invitation? He felt his lungs tighten in his chest as he gazed back to her, no longer hearing the sounds of the water, now focused intently on her face and the words she would speak.
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 12, 2021 18:07:50 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
aether Jackdawstar
The River
His words made her heart seize for a brief moment. Could it be true? The days Riverstrike had spent daydreaming about the tom, carefully imagining what she would say, how she would act - they all seemed like disant delusions, completely null and void in this moment of time. The rush of the river's running water coursed in her ears, a backdrop to her swirling thoughts. In all honesty, she wasn't sure how to respond. She felt her paws sink deeper into the soft earth of the riverbank, squeezing gently between her toes and into her fur. This relaxed her some. The molly felt comfort in the familiarity of the soft earth. It made her feel like this moment with Jackdawstar wasn't as other-worldly as her fluttering heart would have her believe. Still, the blue warrior's ears flicked apprehensively as she tried her best to piece together an answer. Riverstrike's pale blue eyes moved away from the RippleClan leader, fixing onto the water before her. She knew the implications of his suggestion. Of course, it wasn't against any loyalty code to happen upon him at the river. -that was a mere, innocent border encounter that could happen to any cat. Although the clans were at odds, it hadn't always been that way. Historically, RippleClan and HeronClan had been allies against the regularly harsh and unpredictable environment of the wetlands. Late Newleaf often brought large boughts of rain, which tended to flood the marshland and the river. It wasn't unusual in these situations for the two clans to unite in these situations. Riverstrike remembered hearing stories of this from Sorrelclaw as an apprentice, when she was assigned to cleaning duties.
But an organized meeting? After what was sure to be a rather dicey, politically-fueled gathering? It seemed like a poor choice, especially when she belonged to such a proud clan who took loyalty entirely too seriously. Of course, Riverstrike knew she could more than likely get herself out of the ordeal - she could easily say she had been manipulated by the leader into a meeting where he tried to get her to divulge secrets about HeronClan. This would get her clanmates off her back, but would certainly sick them upon the leader. They would take any opporunity they could to deligitimize RippleClan and encroach further upon their territory. If they found out it was an amicable meeting, however, to which she consented and willingly attended, it would be her pelt. Oakstar would be furious. Larkstripe would call for her exile, although it was unlikely that would be accepted. Regardless, she'd be ostracized, treated like a turncoat. Although her heart longed achingly fo an intimate relationship with Jackdawstar, her mind continued to talk her out of it.
And then there was the matter of what his words actually meant. What was he planning on doing to show his gratitude? Hopefully he didn't have some grand design in mind - such a spectacle would embarrass the molly, who considered herself rather plain in displays of affection. And yet, she felt a rising hope in her belly that it might be the case that he had some plan in mind to thank her... Suddenly. she realized how long she had been in thought. A pang of alarm seared through her chest, her pelt warming in light humiliation. She offered a smile to the tom, rolling her shoulders back to sit up straight. Her blue gaze locked with his again as she prepared to addredd his question. "No trouble was caused with Brooksong," she started. It was clear Riverstrike was nervous to respond. Her paws shuffled deeper into the mud; it's where she felt grounded. "She's just plucky sometimes, is all. As for a meeting..." she paused briefly, chest heaving with a deeper breath. "I would really like that. But... do you-do you think it's an okay idea? With everything going on...?" Her voice was sheepish, but it showed a level of excitement. She wanted gim to persist in his offer, to reassure her it was okay. After all, she was a warrior and he a leader. She trusted his word and his protection. If he wanted to do this, she did, too.
[ sorry for the delay! and the kind of off quality of the post o.o bit of a doozy fo a week! ] |
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Post by aether on Mar 13, 2021 6:51:03 GMT -5
[ i'll post up my reply in the morning ^-^ ]
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Post by aether on Mar 13, 2021 16:55:18 GMT -5
He was being selfish. If Whiteflower happened upon him at this moment he was sure she'd unravel in a flurry of rage; a feat he'd never seen before. He imagined her words, you're a leader, Jackdawstar! Keep your nose in your own clan! How was he supposed to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the very thought of Riverstrike? He'd watched his sister - Drizzlefur - fall in love and have kits with Oakpelt, Jackdawstar watched when her eyes would glimmer with adoration whenever the tom would approach her. He'd found someone who made him feel that way. He uncurled his claws into the earth, letting the stability of it ease him. If he turned away now he could prevent any sort of future heartbreak for his clan. The thought made his stomach twist with dread and he stared across the water to Riverstrike's beautiful form. He felt himself swoon. Was it... so wrong for him to love someone? Through his rose coloured gaze he realised she was yet to reply and he felt his muscles tense. Perhaps she had more sense, or moreover, perhaps she didn't reciprocate his affections. Musing over that case made his heart seize and his breath catch. He would wholeheartedly respect her feelings; he just hoped she wouldn't use this situation as leverage against his clan. Would she do something that? His intense yellow gaze coursed over her clouded, thoughtful, gaze.
Then she spoke. Absently, he leaned closer to hear, his ears began to ring with the sound of his pounding heart and he focused his gaze on Riverstrike's mouth to hear her every word carefully. He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and felt a wobble in his legs with relief. I would really like that. He picked up a sense of uncertainty to her tone and smiled gently, withholding the feeling of wanting to cross the bridge and wind around her. She would really like that. That was all he needed to hear for him to realise he would be selfish for once in his life. Her reply obviously made the tom swell, he straightened up and puffed out his chest like an excited apprentice who was receiving praise. His yellow eyes shone like stars and he smiled with the warmth of the sun. "It'll be okay," he meowed with confidence. How could it not? Albeit, her concerns mirrored his, but he couldn't think about that right now. All that floated in his mind was the thought of seeing her again without the river separating them.
"I won't let anything bad happen," his voice held the sincerity of a promise. "I know there's tension going on between the clans at the moment but don't worry about that," he twitched his whiskers in determination, "I can deal with it." It was well known that the tom would rather fix quarrels with words over claws and he would stand by that mantra, especially now. He couldn't go to war with the clan that she lived in; what if she was caught in the crossfire? He was aware of the sticky situation he was now caught in, Oakstar would now have more leniency in her demands should she pursue it, but Jackdawstar shook the thoughts from his head. "I need to go back to my clan now, but..." he stared longingly, his mind working to think of the right things to say, "I look forward to seeing you again." He took a moment to take in the scents of the breeze and realised that soon the border patrol would be working their way to the river. Even if he didn't need to go back because he'd been gone so long, he would have had to leave to avoid the patrol.
[ Lol I hope it was a good week at least!
I'm looking forward to the Gathering now with Oakstar and Cedarpelt. Jackdawstar now reallllllly wants avoid a fight. Pretty sure that'll stir issues in his own clan. Ho boy. ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 15, 2021 23:16:24 GMT -5
RIVERSTRIKE
HeronClan warrior. molly.
The River
aether Jackdawstar
Riverstrike's heart swelled with affection as she watched the tom brim with joy. A giddy feeling of reckless abandon created butterflies in her stomach. Their fluttering conjured a lighthearted laugh in her throat, and she let it escape with ease. Jackdawstar's happiness with her decision made her feel lighter than air, made her buzz like the fast-flitting wings of the dragonflies that scurried excitedly over the marsh. She felt a rush of a feeling she couldn't quite place, but her comfort was palpable as her shoulders relaxed, tail thumping gingerly before her muddied paws. The warrior's pale blue eyes shone with gratitude at the leader's reassurance. That's when it struck her - the tom made her feel safe. Despite the risk they were taking by meeting after what was sure to be a raucous and ornery Gathering, she felt very little fear. The anxiety that had laid claim to her heart before Jackdawstar guaranteed their safety seemed to melt away like frost under the Newleaf morning sun. Besides, Jackdawstar was known for his diplomacy - any barbs that HeronClan hurled his way would easily be diffused by his eloquence, professionalism, and genuine care and concern for all cats, regardless of allegiance. Admiration beemed brightly from the blue warrior's gaze as she regarded the tom across the river.
"I trust you," Riverstrike purred, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could even stop then. Regularly, this display of affection would have been embarrasing for the characteristically plain and reserved molly. Right now, however, she endeavored to throw caution to the wind. Speaking off, the change in temperatue indicated afternoon - patrols would be coming to the border soon. RippleClan was charged with that shift. A pang of desperate nervousness ran sharply through the molly, shattering her bucolic cheer. She nodded vigorously when the leader recommended his return. "Yes, please do." Riverstrike made a concerted effort to physcially demonstrate her strong fondness for the tom from across the coursing waters that separated them perpetually. "I can't wait. Meet me at Flatstones?" The purr was audible in her voice. Flatstones was a rather secret spot, concealed by reeds and ferns. It straddled the border of the two clans just down the river. The warrior picked the spot specifically for its historic neutrality - if anyone were to possibly see them there together, it wouldn't necessarily arouse injurious suspicion. Of course, nothing was totally safe, but the suggestion revealed her still deep-seated desire to protect them both.
Riverstrike got to her feet and shook out her pelt a bit. A smile - brighter than some she had donned in a great while - danced across her narrow features, whiskers twitching with delight.
[OH BOY meeeee, tooooo. I'm gonna have to pull out some stops to make Cedarpelt as horrible as possible. I'm planning on having him and Larkstripe, the deputy, lead the charge against Jackdawstar. Oakstar is kind of a bbbbb, so she'll just sit by like nothing wrong is occurring x3
If you want, we can time skip and I can post the Gathering piece tomorrow or the next day?? We could also open up thw Cedarpelt x Sofie situation after the Gathering, if you want! I was thinking Jackdawstar would be more victorious with his diplomacy than Cedarpelt would have liked, and he would go on a walk to clear his mind. Wanders too close to Twoleg place. Gets nabbed!
let me know your thoughts! willing to do anything. Also, I hope you're well friend <3 ] |
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Post by aether on Mar 16, 2021 6:53:41 GMT -5
[ <3 I'll have my reply up in the morning! I'm happy to skip to the gathering, too ^-^
Also I CANNOT WAIT for Cedarpelt to just... be Cedarpelt. It'll be great. Then when he can meet Sofie and she is like... honestly he'll probably think she's annoying and stupid at first but sofie is cute and sweet but not a pushover. a good mix of "you wouldn't be mean i'm cute" and "no, really. don't be mean". ]
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Post by aether on Mar 17, 2021 4:42:30 GMT -5
The feeling in his chest was unlike Jackdawstar had ever experienced. "Flatstones." He confirmed with a nod, his voice quivered with excitement. Never in his life had he felt so full of warmth, protected under her blue gaze. As he watched her leave he felt reinvigorated and found himself moving effortlessly through the forest as he made his way back to camp. He'd never dreamed in his life that he would get so elated by the thought of spending time with a HeronClan warrior. Returning to camp with a dizzy smile, he drew the attention of a few curious stares and his glee melted out of his paws. The sudden realization that he could not express his cheer without raising suspicion hit him like a rock. Meandering back to his nest he settled down at and rested his chin atop his paws, his yellow gaze swept over the camp and he felt his neck ache with pain after his stroll through the forest. He closed his eyes and thought of Riverstrike, remembering the way the water reflected and shimmered over her pelt. Sleep came over him peacefully.
***Jackdawstar flicked his tail in irritation. His neck felt stiff and ached over his shoulders making each step heave with effort. Whiteflower had given him a stern, motherly talking-to for how long he'd out of camp but it was hard to feel regretful when he thought of meeting Riverstrike. Let's get through this Gathering now. He narrowed his yellow eyes and stepped into the clearing where the clans met for the Gathering. Behind him Jumpfox, Rabbitspring, Sorrelspots, Brightsong, Greystorm, Bramblefang, Whiteflower, Fernpaw, Flurrypaw, Fogpaw, and Sagetail made up the patrol.
"Remember, we're here to keep the peace." Jackdawstar glanced over his shoulders and locked his eyes on Bramblefang. With the political tension between the clans the black leader did not want to further exacerbate the problem. It was selfish to say that he was more inclined to come to a harmonious entente because his mind was fixed on the thought of Riverstrike, not his clan. His guilt must have been palpable because Bramblefang turned and eyed him dubiously.
Bramblefang cleared his throat quietly, "I'll do what I can, Jackdawstar, but some cats..." he flicked his eyes towards the dark ginger form of Jumpfox, "...will be hard to convince."
Jackdawstar swallowed an exasperated sigh. The decision to allow Jumpfox's attendance at the gathering balanced on a fine-line, and it tipped back and forth with effort to stay upright. If he'd told Jumpfox to stay in camp the tom would have been furious and no doubt would have done caused a stir among his clan mates. Having him at the gathering was a risky move considering the fact the tom basically licked his lips in anticipation at the thought of seeing Cedarpelt again after their border spat. It was one of the many times he felt powerless as a leader. I can only trust my clan to do the right thing... "Keep your eye on him." Jackdawstar lowed his voice so his words were only heard by the deputy.
The clan spread out into the small clearing. Flurrypaw and Fogpaw shuffled their feet in adulterated excitement as they waited for HeronClan; it was their first gathering. Nearby their mentors - Sorrelspots and Brightsong - watched with amusement. Fernpaw on the other hand sat beside her mentor, Greystorm, with serious green eyes, it was her third gathering, hence she wasn't filled with the same fluttering exhilaration as her denmates. Jumpfox was twitching his tail absently. The intensity of his green gaze could have set the undergrowth alight as he stared at the bushes where HeronClan was due to enter.
The clearing was nearby the river at the top end of the two territories, near where the clans bordered twolegplace. Jackdawstar bunched his muscles in preparation to leap atop the dais where the leaders made their remarks. It was a fallen monster, its carcass was dull and scraped under his claws as he reached the top, and its insides were riddled with ferns and leafy tendrils. No cat knew when the monster had died in this clearing but it would have been many, many seasons. Its nose was half buried by earth so it did not stand tall like the monsters that roared on thunderpaths; it was confidently lifeless. It didn't even smell wretched like they usually did on the thunderpath, in fact, it simply had the scent of the forest wrapped over it.
The air was cool and a light breeze sang through the leaves overhead; a sure sign of newleaf. The humidity of the day had now dissipated and a satisfying chill came in its wake. Jackdawstar opened his maw slightly and took in the familiar scents of the forest. The night seemed... eerily peaceful. He could only hope it would stay that way.
Jackdawstar rolled his shoulders in discomfort as he sat down on the rusted steel top of the monster. The venture out of camp had certainly caused his wound to become more tender but he'd not wanted to alarm Whiteflower into thinking he was unfit to travel. He had to be convincing if he intended to slip away and meet Riverstrike after the gathering. At the thought of the blue warrior he felt a giddy warmth in his stomach and he started to the bushes expectantly. Would she be at the gathering? He realised he was holding his breath.
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 17, 2021 17:22:38 GMT -5
[ thanks for writing that! also, are they on an old car?! i LOVE that xD
I'll have my reply up tonight - getting some work and essay writing out of the way! ]
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Post by aether on Mar 17, 2021 17:27:15 GMT -5
[ all good! i figured i didn't have much to write after the river so i just decided to go ahead xD and yes! they are on an old car - i thought it would be something different from the usual rock or tree haha. especially since they are near twolegplace.
sounds good! ^-^ ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 17, 2021 23:54:38 GMT -5
HERONCLAN
gathering.
aether Rippleclan
Nighttime settled gently over the clans' territory. The sky was clear, showing brilliant swaths of stars that glimmered starkly against a deep indigo backdrop. Cool moonlight draped over the land, casting deep, menacing shadows between the trees that lay on the other side of the river. The marsh had come alive as the sun set, erupting into a conflagration of sounds and feelings. Crickets chirped musically among the reeds, accompanied by the a low intermittent groan of bullfrogs. Nocturnal animals ventured bravely into the peat bog, wading into the shallow water and creating ephemeral ripples that danced across an algae-covered service. Oakstar moved gracefully through the muddiness, her white paws submerged in the soft wetness of the swamp they called home. The tortoiseshell molly's bright green eyes shone with fiery determination, like two sunspots in the everlasting night. A fiendish smile sat smugly on her features - her pride was palpable. Tonight's Gathering was sure to be a political firestorm, full of raucous, incorrigible hostilities and ill-advised accusations. Jackdawstar's run in with the fox had severely tarnished his reputation in the opinion of the leader, who valued brute strength and steadfastness over relatively everything. Tonight was crucial for the seasoned clancat. It was her chance to make a stand for her clan - one that she hoped would be final.
Oakstar was a crafty individual. Although she herself was never one to hurl insults and hiss obscenities at her rivals. she made sure to consistently surround herself with those who would. Dirty work, in her opinion, was to be conducted by those who desired a fight, and those who desire a fight work best when they were under command. The tall, imposing molly made it her goal to always be the architect and the manipulator. She wanted a scene, a fire she could control, intensify, or put out altogether if she wanted. To this Gathering, she brought with her most loyal, reliable clanmates. They were the cats who would be sure to start, maintain, or - best yet - completely ignore a political conflict as vitriolic as the one anticipated tonight. The team she had compiled consisted tonight included Larkstripe, Finchtail, Cherrynose, Brooksong, Riverstrike, Ottercoat, Dustfur, Cloverfoot, and, of course, Cedarpelt. The russet tom was notorious among both HeronClan and RippleClan for his temper and his shameless committment to being foxhearted. Anything could set the warrior of if he wanted it to. Easily offended and quick to anger, Cedarpelt was her best chance at starting a row with their minnow-hearted rivals. Most importantly, he was fiercely loyal to Oakstar and was controlled quite effectively when she needed him to be. The others, save for perhaps Brooksong, who was a fighter in her own right, were simple followers, who would jump right in to the flames or watch it all burn down with apathy. Oakstar was particularly proud to have Fernpaw, Thistlepaw, and Goosepaw in attendance tonight. What better way to learn how to be a HeronClan cat than with some good, old fashioned strongarming and antagonism? The leader had remarked earlier in response to her medicine cat, Heathersong's, concerns. These apprentices will one day be warriors. They need to learn loyalty the hard way.
Of course, the young apprentices eyes gleamed with pride. Although this would be Thistlepaw's second gathering with Dustfur, the small molly still buzzed with juvenile excitement. Fernpaw and Goosepaw, accompanied by Finchtail and Ottercoat, showed some degree of apprehension. They no doubt knew of the political troubles their clan was embroiled in, and had some inward qualms about the entire ordeal that was sure to unfold. Nonetheless, their hearts pounded with anxiety, eager to finally experience all the gathering had to offer.
Cedarpelt stalked threateningly behind Oakstar, whispering with Larkstripe as they neared the clearing. Both toms were engaged in what seemed like elaborately suspicious coordination, their tails swishing with insidious excitement. Cloverfoot, Cedarpelt's stoic and emotionless sister, walked regally beside the large russet tom, her visage holding the same aloof, unreadable disposition it always did. Behind this cronyist trio was Dustfur, Finchtail, and Ottercoat, who were all exchanging laughs and conversation blithely with their apprentices - as if there wasn't a calamity on the horizon. Riverstrike's chest tightened at these sights. Cedarpelt's muscles twitched and tensed, that same sardonic smile plastered on his features as always. The tom was absolutely despicable. The thought of conflict clearly brought him a degree of convoluted joy that Riverstrike would never understand. Her nose curled instinctively as she watched his lumbering form beside Larkstripe's rather lithe silhouette. This juxaposition made the situation all the more discomfitting. Brooksong was to her left, beeming with noticeable pride and excitement. The blue warrior shot her eyes to her friend, concern swimming in their depths. "Don't do anything stupid tonight, okay?" she hissed under her breath, though her words betrayed her knowledge of their futility. Brooksong was as combustible as the rest of her clanmates, especially in situations like these. "Just...just let Cedarpelt and his crowd handle it. You don't have to get involved." Despite their sharp tone, her words showed genuine care and concern for her friend.
Normally, Riverstrike wouldn't pay much attention to their behavior - she herself was even sometimes quick of temper. But tonight, the thought of Jackdawstar obfuscated those feelings. She desperately wanted the tom to emerge victorious, which opened up a cavernous tension in her heart. Although no one would say Riverstrike was bold and calculating like Oakstar may want her to be, she was still profoundly loyal to her companions and their cause. This feeling of affection and concern she had for the RippleClan leader further confused her feelings and intensified her anxiety.
The molly's worry was only intensified as HeronClan's ranks entered the clearing. The gathering place smelled slightly acrid, like stale Thunderpath and twoleg. Low muttering had now entered the sounds of the evening, with both clans whispering to their friends about the drama that was about to ensue. Cedarpelt raised his head confidently as he sauntered in. With his chest puffed out and his brow furrowed over a mischievous pair of green eyes and a cocky smile, his self-importance was palpable. The tom immediately locked eyes with Jumpfox, his smile deepening against his enemy's noticeable angst. The rivalry between the two ginger warriors was well-known among both clans. Riverstrike felt her stomach drop as she watched them in their silent antipathy, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she settled her gaze on Jackdawstar, his large black form looming authoritatively over the clans as he settled onto the dais. Suddenly, her heart beat - racing from fear and anger - slowed just a bit. There was that calming sense he seemed to always impart upon her. Her pale blue eyes flashed with affection she hoped he would see. That is, unitl Oakstar made her way toward him.
The tall, tortoiseshell leader gathered her muscles and propelled herself gracefully onto the dais. The monster's skin felt cool on her pawpads. Clawmarks and dents littered its body, which was decaying with postmortem age. She settled commandingly beside the RippleClan leader, fixing her posture to sit in her usual, straight position. Her green eyes swept across the clearing, narrowed in observation, as she drew in a deep, casual breath. She was gaming her surroundings, sizing up the competition Jackdawstar had brought with him. A small, triumphant smirk danced across her features as one ear flicked with satisfaction - the RippleClan ranks were no match for the powerful personalities she had selected. Everything was a twisted, combative game to the molly - and she did very little to hide it. Finally, she fixed her brilliant green eyes onto the leader beside her. "I hope your injuries aren't to much of a hindrance for business tonight," Oakstar's voice was cool. Although some sympathy - however shallow - found its way into her words, they were overwhelmingly matter-of-fact. Ordinary. She played a good fool. "I believe it's your turn to go first tonight." With that, she fixed her gaze forward, curling her tails around her paws and rolling her shoulders back to maintain her aloofness. She shot a quick glance to Cedarpelt, Brooksong, and Larkstripe, almost like a signal. Riverstrike's scruff bristled - the show was about to begin.
[ I didn't realize how awful I made them all sound until re-reading this! LMAO this is going to be so good - RippleClan is clearly the protagonist in this plotline xD ]
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Post by aether on Mar 19, 2021 5:16:27 GMT -5
Brooksong (HeronClan) + Jackdawstar (RippleClan) + RippleClanOakstar, RippleClan, HeronClan || parisiansteve The Gathering
[ I realised I forgot, but if you want Shadethorn can be at the gathering too! ]
The air in the clearing felt thick. It only seemed to suffocate Jackdawstar from his position upon the forgotten monster, making his heart accelerate with a foreboding dread. If the atmosphere surrounding himself and his clan clouded with anymore suspense, he might think they were amidst a dark, crackling storm cloud. The sound of purposeful paw steps trekking towards the clearing was soon the only noise that echoed in his ears; like the sound of war drums. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of Flurrypaw skittering on the leaf litter as she bounded to stare wide-eyed at the HeronClan entourage. The white molly gasped audibly, and her tail quivered in pure, unadulterated excitement. ”They’re coming!” Her squeaky voice felt distant and Jackdawstar was incapable of hearing Fogpaw’s eager reply.
The storm broke at the entrance of Oakstar. Like an ocean wave, reality swept up and crashed over his head. He felt intensely intimidated by the steadfast expression that Oakstar carried, the air around her carried a sense of authority; so much so that even Flurrypaw recoiled with a flash of fear. StarClan, I don’t know what to do! Would he be struck by lightning if he fled now? HeronClan cats filled the clearing with their heads high and their countenance scornful. Immediately, a divide formed between the two clans just like the river that separated their territories. Flurrypaw and Fogpaw curveted back to their respective mentors, sharing an uncertain glance between themselves. The black leader lifted his chin slowly, unable to shake the incertitude that clouded his mind. His uncomfortable stare trailed over the HeronClan cats until they settled on one in particular…
Jackdawstar sucked in a deep breath of cool oxygen; a sigh that allowed his lungs to feel content. She was looking at him with a gaze that allowed him, momentarily, to imagine they were standing alone at opposite ends of the clearing. He could only dream of leaping from the dais and cavorting to her side, to take in her scent and find comfort in her radiant warmth. Before he turned his adoring gaze away, his eyes hardened with a newfound sense of determination. I must do this; I must create peace.
The black tom went from a sad state of slumped shoulders and shifting paws to having a straight spine and a rigidly high chin. Despite the ache that rippled from his neck and down his back he watched Oakstar elegantly as she landed and sat poised beside him. He offered her a respect dip of his head and when he met her gaze he blinked slowly. ”I’m feeling good as new now. My regards to the warriors that assisted me,” his own voice was quiet and humble. Oakstar’s equivocal tone was, frankly, something Jackdawstar had become accustomed to. After being a leader beside her for many moons now he knew many of the tricks she played. It would be a lie to say that her sly tactics did not irk him, however, he felt as though it was his duty to remain level-headed. ”Thank you.” Now, faced with the daunting task of being the first to address the unbearable tensions, Jackdawstar stepped forward.
Brooksong shouldered into the crowd and settled beside Riverstrike in the clearing. The tabby and white molly felt her own sense of excitement at the thought of the Gathering, not to voice her own conflicts, but to watch the others. At Riverstrike’s precautionary words earlier Brooksong had merely shrugged, ’it doesn’t matter if I do or don’t say something; we know what’s going to happen. The vague response was resolute in it’s intention: she would not promise to stay out of the fire should the Gathering become interesting. She turned her exhilarated green gaze to Riverstrike as Jackdawstar and Oakstar shared words, ”I wonder who will say something first,” her words danced with the promise of a giggle, ”Jumpfox or Cedarpelt? I think it will be Cedarpelt. He has practically rehearsed everything he plans on saying in his reflection by the river.”
Jackdawstar took a steadying breath and opened his maw to speak, the stares of RippleClan and HeronClan felt hot and expectant on his pelt.
”Jackdawstar, why don’t you ask these toad-brains why they’ve been trying to cross our border?!” It was unsurprisingly Jumpfox to speak the words. His words dripped with venom and his eyes shot daggers accusingly to Cedarpelt specifically. ”Too much running around in the mud! It’s gotten into their brains!” Jumpfox sniggered. The flame-coloured tom stood with his tail flicking back and forth and his body relaxed with overzealous pride.
”Jumpfox, sit down!” Jackdawstar demanded, the usually modest tom now stared authoritatively towards his clanmate. However, he had to be careful. To reprimand and belittle his own clanmate under the audience of HeronClan would not just hurt Jumpfox’s pride but his clanmates too.
Brooksong leaned close to Riverstrike’s ear and whispered, ”Damn! I was sure it would be Cedarpelt.” Her words held amusement more than disappointment.
Jumpfox glowered, his eyes never leaving his HeronClan rival. Fight me, he begged silently.
[ guuuuurl if you ever write a book lemme know because you're way with words is astonishing!
lol OMG imagine if at one point rippleclan had to ask heronclan for help. perhaps they could redeem themselves? then use it as leverage lmao - completely unredeeming themselves
also i realised we both have a 'fernpaw' so i changed rippleclans fernpaw to brindlepaw ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 19, 2021 9:24:15 GMT -5
[ YEAH JUMPFOX YOU TELL HIM THAT'S RIGHT KING!!!!!!
that was so sweet thank you so much for that comment aw :3 it's easy to write well when you have a good partner! also no worries about shadethorn, that can come later! I will have my post up tonight.
oh sheeeet i love that idea! we could totally do that.
also how do you feel about this - Cedarpelt sees Jackdaw and River together after the gathering and goes to tell on her but gets caught by the twolegs, so then when he returns it's like huge drama (or, everyone already knows and he thinks it's big drama and comes in all hot and angry but everyone is like "uhhhh yeah" xD) ]
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Post by aether on Mar 19, 2021 17:58:23 GMT -5
[ OOOOH KILL 'EM JUMPFOX xD
<3 sounds good
yeah! maybe we could do they ye ol' fire in the forest plot so rippleclan has to take shelter with heronclan. could make for some interesting politic dynamics + cute riverstrike and jackdawstar lol.
you know i actually thought about that! that he sees them and goes to make a scene but gets caught. and i thought that since he is returning back to camp with sofie it could make some cats think he is less credible since he himself is breaking the warrior code? o.o whatcha think? ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 19, 2021 21:52:27 GMT -5
[ i like the fire idea! that might also give some other chances to form newer plots or relationships between some of our other characters in the clans!
i am allllll for a cedarpelt fall from grace. i really like that idea. besides, i'm thinking his relationship with sofie - however we want to do that - will end up profoundly changing him in some way. yknow? her fiery nature will quell his own crazy arrogance! ]
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Post by aether on Mar 19, 2021 22:20:24 GMT -5
[ oooh yeah! could be cool to do a plot with cloverfoot at some point ^-^
i'm so keen to see the dynamic between sofie x cedar and how it affects him. her too, but probably not so dramatically lol. on that, i was thinking that cedarpelt gets taken to the outskirts of a metropolitan area where it is quite twoleg heavy (so a fair distance from the clans but not so far that finding the way back home would be impossible). i get the impression cedarpelt wouldn't want sofies help but because everything is so out of his depth he kind of needs her to help him? thoughts? ]
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 19, 2021 22:28:01 GMT -5
HERONCLAN
Oakstar, Riverstrike, Cedarpelt
The Gathering
aether Jackdawstar, RippleClan
A chorus of insidious chuckles bubbled up amongst the HeronClan crowd. Like a murder of crows, they cawed raucously in overexaggerated amusement at Jumpfox's rapid accusation. Larkstripe, the scappy little deputy, rolled his eyes in disdain at the ginger tom's outburst, gathering himself in a sitting position with his tail swishing behind him. A smirk danced across his face as he snickered quietly, blue eyes sweeping to find the lumbering form of Cedarpelt. Unsurprisingly. the russet warrior had already postured himself for a response, his chest puffed out arrogantly, like ao overinflated toad in the marsh. Cedarpelt heaved a heavy sigh, dripping with theatricality. His dark green gaze settled disapprovingly on his RippleClan rival, brows curled into a condescending reprimand, like a queen who was about to scold a kit. "Oh, Jumpfox," the large tom cooed, tutting his tongue after his words. He sauntered closer to the RippleClan ranks, weaving through a parting sea of his own companions until he was standing before the warrior. "Didn't you hear? Our jumping across your border happened to save your precious little leader's life. You should be thanking us." Cedarpelt spun around in a flourish, raising one white-dipped paw to gesture toward his clanmates. His dark eyes gleamed with counterfeit innocence, regarding the HeronClan ranks with sardonic humor. "Don't you think everyone? Shouldn't Jumpfox and the rest of his minnow-hearted friends be thanking HeronClan for our bravery, our valor - " he cut off to slowly moved his head to face the tom once again, the sickly sweet falseness of his tone deepening " - our genuine, authentic, profoundly charitable kindness?"
The HeronClan warriors erupted in agreement, Dustfur sprung to his feet, yowling in support of Cedarpelt's provocarive performance. Thistlepaw joined her mentor, fur bristling on her scruff as she raised her lips in a juvenile grow toward RippleClan. The spunky molly was known for her ill-placed temper, and this gathering was bringing out the worst of it. Fernpaw and Goosepaw shuffled rather uncomfortably, betraying their greenness in the business of clan rivalries. Their mentors, Ottercoat and Finchtail, laughed at Jumpfox's embarrassment, encouraging their apprentices by example. Cherrynose moved through the crowd to stand next to Cedarpelt. Her lithe form and tiny stature made the russet warrior beside her look the size of a bear, but her ice blue eyes gleamed with inward strength. "What kind of clan can't even defend their own leader, much less ward off a measly old fox in their territory?" the pure white molly hissed venomously, regarding the RippleClan brood with contempt. "Next thing we know, you'll need us to do your hunting for you, too." Another roar of laughter rose from the HeronClan crowd. Hoots and hollers accompanied the noise.
Meanwhile, Oakstar stood silent, stoic on the dias. Her light green eyes scanned the crowd, measuring the reactions on each side. In the midst of the rising animosity, her heartbeat remained steady, her fur smooth and flat along her back. None of this seemed to even ruffle the leader to any degree. Her disposition held a calculating expression as she weighed her options. Technically, Cedarpelt had crossed an unspoken line by referencing the weakness of the RippleClan leader in a way that did not communicate empathy. She had to admit - thought she too found Jackdawtstar infuriatingly soft, he was at least respectable and kind. He often fielded vitriol from her ranks with very little reaction or desire for retribution. Oakstar was rather put off by his committment to diplomacy - she wished he sometimes would stand up for himself, like she believed a leader should. A small part of her wanted to interject, to quell the rolling tide of hostility that threatened to flood the gathering. But she knew this would completely extinguish the motivation her acolytes had for change. At her word, they would retreat, no matter how unwilling they were. Besides, she didn't want Jumpfox to thinl he'd landed some stunning blow with his out of pocket call-out. So, she settled to watch and wait for Jackdawstar's reaction. Maybe he had something to say that would finally impress the molly.
Riverstrike, on the other hand, was boiling with irritation. Her blue eyes blazed furiously as Cedarpelt slandered Jackdawstar with his self-important performance. Her claws dug into the soft earth, the silvery blue fur on her shoulders bristling. The warrior barely heard her friend's words, her displeasure growing increasingly more palpable as the toms slung fury at each other. "He's a fox-hearted, crow-eating, snake-tongue," Riverstrike hissed under her breath, brow furrowed with focus as she managed to keep her temper in check. Luckily for her, it could appear to any cat among her ranks that she was furious with RippleClan's accusation. More astute figures, however, who had an intimate knowledge of the molly's disposition, could tell that her anger was directed at Cedarpelt and his pompous lies. Her heart pounded with the desire to defend Jackdawstar, the kind, gentle, respectful tom she had cultivated a deep-seated fondness for over the past few days. Get me out of here! Her silent plea buzzed in her chest, fur itching with anxiety. |
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Post by parisiansteve on Mar 19, 2021 22:35:21 GMT -5
[ oooh yeah! could be cool to do a plot with cloverfoot at some point ^-^
i'm so keen to see the dynamic between sofie x cedar and how it affects him. her too, but probably not so dramatically lol. on that, i was thinking that cedarpelt gets taken to the outskirts of a metropolitan area where it is quite twoleg heavy (so a fair distance from the clans but not so far that finding the way back home would be impossible). i get the impression cedarpelt wouldn't want sofies help but because everything is so out of his depth he kind of needs her to help him? thoughts? ]
I'm also cool with you rp'ing any of the characters you think seem cool for you in HeronClan! I purposely didn't give them lots of description in case you wanted to eventually play one or two of them. that's coooool w me ~
yes. i totally love that idea. he tries to be Mr. Go-it-alone but really, really needs her help. i also love that she'll have that over him as leverage lmfao xD like, she'll totally be in the power position and humiliate him ] |
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Post by aether on Mar 19, 2021 23:30:12 GMT -5
Brooksong (HeronClan) + Jackdawstar (RippleClan) + RippleClanOakstar, RippleClan, HeronClan || parisiansteve The Gathering
Unsullied hatred shone clear as day from Jumpfox’s dark green eyes, his lips twitched to reveal fang at Cedarpelt’s belittling coo. He did not back down even as Cedarpelt promenaded to his front. The only movement he made was a furious flare of his nostrils as Cedarpelt continued his tirade. Small twitches of his shoulders and the ripple over his spine made it explicitly clear that it took everything in his being to not tear his claws over Cedarpelt’s unbearably smug face. ”On my grave I’d ever thank you, flea-pelt,” Jumpfox spat vehemently.
A counter-chorus wailed to argue the HeronClan cats. Rabbitspring was on his paws in a heartbeat, shouting his outrage over Cedarpelt and Dustfur’s words. Flurrypaw, who had been so elated to attend her first Gathering, now sat with horrified eyes. On the other side, Brooksong offered her own words of support – despite her distaste for Cedarpelt, she was infuriatingly similar in her own right. However, she paused her caterwauling to glance in surprise at Riverstrike. It would take time to process, but she was sure that the blue molly was not staring at Jumpfox when she spoke such harsh insults.
Jumpfox’s claws unsheathed, and he reeled back in preparation to strike. As he lifted a paw to swipe it over Cedarpelt’s infuriatingly complacent expression he felt teeth in his scruff, and he was pulled back in the opposite direction. Twisting, he found Bramblefang hauling him backwards, the tabby had his own outraged expression that was thwarted by his sense of responsibility.
”You fool!” Jackdawstar hissed to Oakstar, ”Even I wouldn’t expect you to allow this!” His yellow eyes narrowed, blazing intensely – not with irritation or anger, but with hurt. His own pride was not ached by Cedarpelt’s words and HeronClan’s agreeance nor was he pained to have to quell the fire that was set alight in the Gathering. Instead, he seemed hurt at the prospect of doing it alone. ”I thought you were supposed to be a leader, Oakstar, but I guess I’m mistaken.” Disappointment dirtied every word, and he closed his eyes as he gave his head a small shake. I can see what must be done. Not waiting for Oakstar to reply, Jackdawstar bunched his muscles and slithered down from the fallen monster so that he could address the clans; not as a leader but as one of them on their level. He murmured a quiet ’thank you’ to Whiteflower as she moved to make way for him, and he swerved through the cats until finally he stood at the centre between Jumpfox and Cedarpelt.
”That’s enough!” His voice rang clear over the clearing. The hollers from his own clan had already begun fading when Jackdawstar had walked through the crowd but the last of the murmurs hushed at his call. Rabbitspring – somewhere nearby – made a point of muttering something under his breath and Brightsong silenced him with a cuff over the ear. Until he was sure that he had the floor, Jackdawstar turned his bright yellow gaze over HeronClan, meeting the eyes of each cat until finally he stared at Cedarpelt. He could feel the anticipation like a paw on his shoulders, pushing him down and down in an effort to make him fearful and break. Instead, Jackdawstar blinked slowly and dipped his head to the orange and white HeronClan warrior. From behind him, Jumpfox hissed furiously at the sign of respect to his enemy but it was cut off with a glare from Bramblefang.
Raising his chin to stand tall before Cedarpelt, Jackdawstar opened his maw and spoke, ”I have expressed my thanks to those involved and that is all that needs to be said.” His voice rang with unwavering diplomacy, ”Yet here I am hearing that one needs to be shameful to get help?” For emphasis, his eyes widened as though shocked, ”I thought we were all warriors? I thought it was our duty to help those in need, not laugh or mock them like uneducated kits.” Once again he gave his head a disappointed shake, ”Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps we are to treat each other like loners and rogues and instead of abiding by the warriors code we should shame others and start fights during peaceful Gatherings.” This time, he glanced back to Jumpfox with a pointed stare. The orange tom turned his head, gritting his teeth with quiet fury. ”Cedarpelt, you may choose to live your life like that but I promise you that if you were to ever need my help, I would give it wholeheartedly; without the need to feel validated by petty politics.” Finally, Jackdawstar’s gaze seemed to soften. He was not trying to make an enemy of the HeronClan tom, he just wanted to be impactful, wanted to make an example out of this.
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