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Post by Sand on Jun 5, 2024 17:49:36 GMT -5
Cariboupaw — with Sorrelsnap | campCariboupaw wanted to be saved by her mentor, Beewhisker so desperately. She had never thought about begging to leave any cat’s presence as she did now. Unfortunately, she was stuck with Sorrelsnap, a sore, old tom with an attitude of an apprentice. How hypocritical of her.As she listened to him complain about the warriors being so loud, Cariboupaw snorted at his response. She would never admit to Sorrelsnap that she found his remark to be funny, but… it was. ”And I would still be asleep if it weren’t for my noisy denmates. I’d rather share a den with a badger,” she complained with a roll of her blue eyes. Maybe being a denmate with a badger wasn’t such a bad idea— at least she would not be confined to camp constantly. She could do whatever she wanted until the badger would, assumingly, kick her out or eat Cariboupaw for breakfast. Nevertheless, the pale she-cat was considering it seriously. Unless Sorrelsnap had some sort of plan for her, she planned on ditching him as soon as possible. Hearing his question, Cariboupaw stared at the ginger and white tabby tom In disbelief. Did he think she was clueless? Was she a kitten to him? Letting out a grumble beneath her breath, the fluffy apprentice rose to her paws confidently. She stuck her chest out, gazing at Sorrelsnap with determination. ”What kind of question is that? Of course I can hunt! I’m the best hunter ever. Beewhisker has taught me well,” she boasted, realizing that the elder was her ticket out of camp. ”Let’s get out of here before I die of boredom, Sorrelsnap. I can show you how to hunt! Maybe you’ve forgotten after all this time, but my method is the best,” Cariboupaw added before padding ahead of the tom, making way for the camp entrance. ”Last one there has to clean the nursery!”[tags: Feathertalon] • Oriolehop — with Burntears & Auburnpaw | the brook As Burntears and Auburnpaw spoke while having a mini training session, he couldn’t help but feel impressed by the pale warrior. For a cat who seemed to prefer the nursery, Burntears was getting the hang of mentoring. It appeared that his suggestion to turn fishing into a game was boosting every cat’s mood— even if it was a little bit. The ginger and white tabby wasn’t the best at fishing. He would see how Burntears and Auburnpaw would fare together at their game which excited him to try harder. Hopefully he and Honeyskip could share a fish later if she was up for it. Just for her, he’d try to catch the best fish in the brook. ”Looks like you two are going to make more progress than I will!” he teased as he approached the brook. He crouched down not too far from the warrior and apprentice. His pale yellow eyes fixated on the water as the current became quite steady. Oriolehop noticed a minnow swimming slowly through the water. He quickly hooked his right paw into the brook, scooping up the minnow with a bit of trouble. He had used his unsheathed claws to hook it onto his paw, but he had his first catch. Although it was a bit messy, Oriolehop wasn’t going to complain about it. One minnow was a meal for a clanmate. He set the deceased fish aside, making sure it wouldn’t slip back into the brook. ”I have one!” he announced with a sly grin. ”Looks like our game is on.”[tags: 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 & Dew]
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 5, 2024 19:24:39 GMT -5
Nightmask »
A drop of moonlight, a sprinkle of starlight. The dazzling mountain scape scattered with the celestial luminescence that shifted and vibrated as power was called down to dream walk. It had been many moons since she had called forth the abilities of the stars, her mind twisting, her stomach churning. It had always been a disorientating experience, not something pleasant, and definitely not something she enjoyed doing. Walking in the dreams of another was something she only did if she felt was absolutely necessary, and right now, between the tides of a heartbroken ocean and the roars of a forest fire, she felt as if this spiritual visit was needed.
In the blink of an eye, in the flicker of a shadow, in the dropping of rain, the StarClan warrior had conjured a dreamscape between her and a particular cat she had once called a friend. Had almost called a lover. Her heart ached for the tomcat now, how his life had once been full of glory and pride, and in one fatal blow, all of that had been taken from him. He had lost more than his limb that day. He had lost his future, his confidence, his everything.
He had lost her.
Once upon a time she had buried herself against the dark brown tabby fur of Oakstreak - Oakpaw then. She had once purred into his presence, wrapping herself around him to share the warmth of his body. Once upon a time she had whispered sweet nothings into his ear, teasing him, spinning tales of how one day, once they were named warriors, she would be his and he would be hers. She recalled how she played the exact same game with his littermate Cedarpaw, how she would tangle her body around his and breathe in his comforting scent, tickle his ear tufts with her hushed words and hollow promises of a day in which they’d become mates. It had all been a game to her.
The two littermates were handsome toms. She had been with them since their nursery days, and as they grew and matured, she had watched them mold into fit warriors, muscular toms with an ambition to be the best that they could be.
Cedarpaw had been boastful and proud, an airheaded lunatic with leadership as his goal.
Oakpaw had been more subdued, patient in his desires of grandeur and power.
She had eyes for them both, but only one could have her. Only one could win her. And she only desired the brother that could succeed.
The words of her father had carried her mission all those seasons ago. ”Two twin trees cast in the shadow of night. One will grow tall and sturdy while the other will be felled.”
Oak and cedar. Two twin trees. One to flourish, the other to rot.
It had been a message an ancient StarClan warrior whispered in her father’s dream the night of her birth. It was where he had found the inspiration to name her, knowing that the spirit cat’s words had something to do with his daughter. Miststar had recited the omen to her many a time, wanting his daughter to know that StarClan had picked her for something special, that she had been chosen for greatness. It was her presence that allowed one tree to blossom while the other wilted.
She had taken her destined greatness and ran with it. It had inspired her since the days of her kithood. A darling daughter in the eyes of her mother and father, a cheeky fox who believed she held the power of invincibility to her Clanmates. Oh, how those had been fun days.
A wolf’s howl sang the song of despair.
She had been with Cedarpaw that day. As the sun fell and cast night upon the camp, a bloodied and torn Oakpaw had been brought back to camp. Whispers of his imminent death had echoed around the ears of every cat that night.
The other will be felled.
The mighty oak had been splintered.
”From this day forward, Oakpaw, you will be apprenticed under Sootsprint.”
She recalled the pure look of angered disgust when her father had forced him under the teachings of the medicine cat. Oakpaw had always wanted to be a warrior, but with one limb missing Miststar did not see him fit for the life of a warrior.
And there had been a part of her that agreed.
From that day onward she had given all of her affections to Cedarpaw. Together they had been named warriors while Oakpaw rotted away in the healer’s den, an apprentice for several more seasons. Before Oakpaw had even received a full name Cedarstrike had trained his first apprentice. It was during his apprentice’s training when he and Nightmask became mates. She recalled that moment fondly, how the two had slipped away from the camp one night, and under the brilliance of the stars they had shared their hearts to one another.
Just a few moons after that Nightmask had been so sure she had felt the stirring of life within her flanks. She had started to swell in the abdomen, her stride heavy with the chance of tiny kittens. She had been so excited at the prospect of becoming a parent alongside Cedarstrike, a noble warrior who was gaining more and more respect throughout the Clan with every achievement he won.
But one day she had woken sick and feeling empty. The fluttering of kits had stopped.
A phantom pregnancy, Sootsprint had told her. A queen who desired a family could sometimes induce the feelings of impending motherhood without even realizing it.
A few days in the medicine cat den to grieve and recover had been the first time she had given Oakpaw - finally Oakstreak - more than just a second of her time in moons. He had grown bitter and resentful, yet he still carried a gentle tongue toward her, a subtle softness that stirred her heart ever so slightly. If things had been different…
Not long after the sorrow of losing phantom kits Cedarstrike had been promoted to deputy. Hollyflicker had passed and Miststar needed another second in command. Who else would he have chosen other than the mate of his daughter? Who else could he have chosen other than the sturdy cedar?
He became leader some seasons after. Not long into his leadership Nightmask felt the stirring of life within her flanks once more, yet this time it was not a desire turned into a hallucination, but rather the movement of actual kits. She was to be a mother and Cedarstar was to be a father. They would have a family together, perfect little kits that would rule the Clan in their own time.
Yet she had never lived to see the day.
The stench of blood, the agony of birth, the cries of despair. Cedarstar’s whimpers, Oakstreak’s pleas.
Two small kits, one that flourished, another that splintered.
Drawing her final breath she looked upon the kit with ambition to live. Alongside her tiny daughter she took to the stars, leaving behind a strong-willed son and two heartbroken brothers.
The brother she cast her bi-colored gaze upon now was older than she remembered. He was ragged and tired, a ghost of the cat he had once been. Nightmask’s heart ached for the old tabby.
”Oakstreak, wake up. It’s me.”
Sorrelsnap »
Sorrelsnap remembered his apprentice days. Those days were long gone, seasons and seasons had passed since then, but he recalled them vividly, brightly. He remembered how arrogant of an apprentice he had been, how headstrong and ignorant to authority he had been. How his mentor survived the youth of Sorrelsnap, the ginger and white tom had no idea, but somehow his mentor had managed. Somehow his mentor had trained him into a well respected warrior who had served his Clan for as long as he could. He remembered how tough being an apprentice could be, how infuriating it was knowing that a ‘paw still couldn’t do whatever they wanted. Apprenticeship had been a fun time in Sorrelsnap’s life, but it had also been a pain in his tail.
He looked toward Cariboupaw. Her youth and her spice was like looking into a mirror that revealed a picture from seasons ago. Sorrelsnap had once been as eager and impatient as the young molly was right now. Faulting her for that would be like calling himself out as well. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, of course, but he supposed he could at least go a little easier on her.
The elder’s mouth twisted in disdain soon enough. His eyes rolled, irritation rolling through him, showing itself in the flick of his tail. ”Maybe you’re a skilled hunter, but no apprentice is the best hunter,” he meowed tartly. Cariboupaw had an ego that, if left unchecked, would certainly rub Sorrelsnap the wrong way. The molly needed to be knocked down a peg or two, but Sorrelsnap knew he didn’t have it in himself to show her just how wrong she was. The strength to hold his own no longer thrummed in his muscles. The speed to run as quick as a hare no longer sparked in his paws. He was old now, and looking at Cariboupaw, how youthful and full of energy she was, reminded him sourly of that reality.
Oh, how he wished he still had the energy of his own youth.
Annoyance once again sparked through him, guiding his paws as he lumbered out of camp, stiff and painful yet eager to prove to this flea-brained apprentice that he had not forgotten any of his skills. ”I’ve been retired a moon,” he growled, puffing with air already as he set his paws down the familiar trail that led to the camp’s exit. ”I haven’t forgotten a single skill.” And he hadn’t. As soon as he stepped outside, as soon as the fresh mountain breeze rolled over him, everything he had learned in his long life came rushing back to him. How to hunt squirrels in the trees, how to stalk after fidgeting rabbits, how to strike an enemy by surprise, how to remain camouflaged even with a bright pelt like this… It all came back to him. Nothing had been forgotten. Even if he had been an elder for seasons at this point Sorrelsnap doubted he would ever forget all the skills that had been passed down to him by his mentor and by his mentor’s mentor, and so forth. He may be old now, but he still carried that flame of knowledge with him and he would until it was his time to join the stars.
Cariboupaw already ahead of him, Sorrelsnap didn’t even know if the young molly had heard him mutter, ”It won’t be me cleaning the nursery.” His days of chores were long gone. It was up to Cariboupaw to clean dens now. She had a whole slew of apprentices to help her out as well; it wasn’t like it had been back when Sorrelsnap had been a ‘paw. There had only been three apprentices at the time - himself, his littermate Tansypaw, and Jumpingpaw. Talk about cleaning the dens back then. Between the three of them it could have taken them all day to freshen up the camp. With as many apprentices as ConiferClan had now, Sorrelsnap could imagine it only taking an hour to clean the old moss and replace it with new piles.
Taking his time while still keeping the apprentice in eyesight, Sorrelsnap looked around for a thick enough bush to hide himself yet also somewhere comfortable that would ease his aching bones. Leaf-fall had thinned the forest’s undergrowth dramatically, but surely there was someplace nearby that would give Sorrelsnap a comfortable enough place to rest while he kept an eye on the adventurous, egotistical apprentice.
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 5, 2024 20:15:35 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt’s face scrunched up a bit defiantly at Briarstar commands. “I may be old, but this warrior still has claws.” He firmly whispered. “Let me flank the hawk from the other side. If we’re both downwind, there’s safety. One of us will stop it.” He was determined. He still had one son, and a grandson. Although affable, Beaverpelt knew what duty was.
He watched carefully as Briarstar began to stalk forward. He wasn’t going to move until she was closer. Too much movement in one area would alert the hawk. He did crouch low to the earth, as his leader instructed. That would be the best way to approach.
After Briarstar was a few tail lengths ahead, Beaverpelt began to stalk quietly and carefully in a diagonal direction from their spot. He would approach from the other side of the eagle, and behind his leader. Ideally, he would be useless. That was his hope. It had been moons since he had defended his clan from…well, anything. |
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 5, 2024 22:17:32 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon  --------------------------------------------------------------------- As his eyes became gradually less blurry, he eventually saw the she-cat of his dreams. His angel, his gem. He rose to his paws, wordlessly drifting toward her starry pelt. He barely felt his limp here, either through the magic of their connection or by his lack of attention to it in this moment. She was just as beautiful as the day she left hi,."Nightmask?" He called incredulously. "You've come all the way from Starclan for me?" He usually found himself receiving visits from Miststar or his former mentor when things were of great importance. It was the first time since her death that he had seen her. He felt his heart pounding in his ears. His chest exploded with affection and his eyes began to water. He refusedto stop until she was barely a whisker's length away. His darling, at last. "I've missed you so much," His old voice cracked with grief.
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 5, 2024 22:45:04 GMT -5
LemonleafIn Camp // Open
Lemonleaf, true to her nature, had woken up late. She blinked open her eyes sleepily, noticing the best she shared with her brother was empty. She rested her head on her paws and looked around the warrior’s den. It was very empty. Clearly the other warriors were out on patrol and the like. That didn’t bother Lemonleaf. More time to myself, she mused, tail flicking back and forth as she woke up slowly.
After a few moments she stood up, stretching her hind legs out behind her as she made her way out of the den. She squinted her eyes as the daytime sun hit her, warming her pelt. She began to pad towards the fresh kill pile. Her stomach was (very rudely) letting her know it was time to eat. |
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Bisexual
𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢
just a sleepy guy
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Post by 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 on Jun 6, 2024 2:05:31 GMT -5
 There was nothing more devastating to Beewhisker than the prospect of leaf-bare being just around the corner. No longer would the days of basking in the sun be available to him at a moments notice. The forest would grow quiet as some creatures were lulled into their hibernation, while others struggled to survive the bitter cold. ConiferClan was no stranger to the harsh season, and it just so happened that it was the flame pointed toms least favorite of them all. He would call any cat mousebrained for liking it at all. The thought of leaf-fall ending at all brought a shiver down the lean tomcat's spine.
Beewhisker let out a heavy sigh as he stared at his reflection in the babbling brook, having wandered away from camp earlier this afternoon. Pretty soon the shallow waters would freeze over and it would make fishing impossible once the temperature got too cold. A shame because he loved fishing so dearly. Which is what he was trying to do right now, before he got so distracted by the poor state of his fur. It took a lot of time and dedication to keep his pelt looking so shiny and pristine. Giving one last swipe over his ear, Beewhisker checked his reflection one last time before smiling triumphantly. "There, perfect." He said to no one but himself.
Now he could finally get back to the task at hand. Fishing. Though, just as he was about to venture further down the brook to its more deeper waters, his nose twitched once, then once again before letting out such an uproarious sneeze. Beewhisker swore StarClan granted him the gift of flight for a few seconds because he jumped so high. Twitching his whiskers, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something... or perhaps someone. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he thought about it, no cat came to mind. Not one. Not even the apprentice he'd been assigned to, the one he probably should be training right now. No, it seemed that Cariboupaw was the last thing on the cream and ginger toms mind. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 6, 2024 11:11:54 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BEAVERPELT WHISPER WOODS Her ears pin flat against her head, and she has only just stolen the words, "Stay out of the way you mousebrain," from the air mere heartbeats before they'd spilled forth. They were already too close for comfort, even her breathing might warn the bird of her nearness - least of all her admonishment of a Clanmate. Briarstar can only, as quietly as she can, place her body between the bird and the elder, her far larger frame imposing itself between the threat and her more fragile Clanmate.
Despite his insistences, Beaverpelt was an older tom now. And based on the fact he'd struggled to keep pace with her just making their way to this point, she didn't have the highest of hopes that there was still a warrior's fight in him.
He'd not needed it - he'd earned his rest, his retirement. And that foul bird wasn't about to steal it from him.
For blissful moments, it appeared Beaverpelt's suggestion might just work. A combination of two seasoned - while 1/2 very pregnant and the other 1/2 very old, warriors silently creeping closer, and that their target was very distracted with its meal. Their footsteps on the land they'd known as home for their entire lives as close to silent as you were going to get. Briarstar crouched and creeping so low that the swell of her belly scuffs where the terrain is uneven.
Just a little closer.
Then - like the creature had plucked the sound of her thought from the depths of her mind, the bird looks up, and shrieks a warning sound. The hollow, ringing sound far uglier than the sweet melodies of smaller songbirds, it carries on the wind, wraps around the molly. For a second, Warrior and Hawk pause, each meeting the other's eye.
Briarstar sucks in a deep breath, hackles high and muscles bracing.
But the bird does not lunge for the two warriors.
Instead its wings spread and it leaps to the skies once more, in a medley of golden and brown colours. Immense wings flapping the only sound that follows it, until Beaverpelt and Briarstar are alone once more, only the woods and its whispers for company. Confusion paints a picture of emotions on the dark-furred molly's features once more, craning her neck to see more of the greying skies over head.
"Maybe it decided two warriors weren't worth the fight over a single piece of prey?" She considers aloud, but even as she says it, there is a doubt to her words.
Only proved doubly when gold pierces the canopy of clouds again, this time lunging for the smaller of their member. |
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 6, 2024 12:13:03 GMT -5
BeaverpeltWhispering Woods // With Briarstar - Hawk Attack // ladylantsov
Beaverpelt had crept, carefully and with the decisive pawsteps of a seasoned cat, closer and closer to the hawk. Careful to let Briarstar take the lead, he ignored her retort. Yes, he was old and maybe being a little silly, but clan loyalty ran deep. He could not ignore a threat like this. Not when kits were on the way.
He froze, paw in midair, when the hawk shrieked. The plan had been going well so far. They were close enough to the bird to be uncomfortable. Beaverpelt knew it was time to be prepared. Anything could happen. He set his paw down on the ground, claws unsheathing, hackles rising. His old muscles tensed and joints creaked as he prepared for battle.
And then the hawk flew away. Beaverpelt loosened his muscles, standing up in confusion. He looked over to his leader. “Seems unlikely…” he replied. Hawks were fierce, and didn’t seem to fear cats the same way a fox might learn to be. He scanned the sky, hoping the hawk would stay away now.
His hopes were shot when he saw the hawk re-enter his vision - and diving right for him. The elder warrior hissed and prepared himself to fight back. StarClan, don’t take me yet! He thought, determined to see his son again.
There was no point in hiding now or being sneaky, with the bird already focused on him. He crouched down, preparing himself to jump and slash at the bird’s face as it got closer. |
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Bisexual
𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢
just a sleepy guy
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Post by 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 on Jun 6, 2024 13:21:13 GMT -5
 Asterfrost's paws ached as she trudged back into camp carrying an acceptable looking squirrel. She noticed another patrol was just about to go out as she recognized Wisteriasnow, Palestream, and then her gaze lingered on Slatestorm as they wordlessly passed one another. Even if her mouth wasn't full of squirrel she wouldn't have offered any greeting, especially not in front of his mother. Instead she ducked her head and trotted over to the meager fresh-kill pile to dump her prey, hoping it would be filling enough for some clanmate.
Cool blue eyes flickered around the camp, watching as cats weaved around one another, chitchatting, gossiping, laughing, and sharing tongues. She watched her own sister, Burntears, make her way out of camp shortly after with Auburnpaw, and if the seal pointed molly hadn't just returned from a hunting patrol herself she would've volunteered to join. Instead, Asterfrost decided to find a comfortable place to sit and actually let herself rest.
As the fluffy she-cat walked her mind began to drift, her thoughts quickly becoming consumed by a certain gray furred tom. Asterfrost longed for the day when the two could be affectionate in public, for when they no longer had to keep their love a secret. She knew it was for the best, that it was smart to keep his mother from meddling. Slatestorm never gave away too much, but just enough that Asterfrost knew Wisteriasnow wasn't the kind and gentle mother she painted herself to be.
So, for the time being, she would cherish every lingering glance, fleeting touch, and all the words he could spare to give while under the watch of their clanmates.
With her thoughts o preoccupied, Asterfrost hardly noticed Paintedmask exiting the medicine cat's den and nearly bumped her nose right into his shoulder. "Woah! Paintedmask, I'm sorry. Gosh, I should really watch where I'm going, huh?" She said with a gentle laugh, hoping that that's what they could do. Laugh off her mistake, because sometimes it was hard to tell how the black and white tom might react. After backing up a couple of pawsteps, she realized just where he was coming from and her next instinct was to be concerned.
"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, her tone thick with worry. Leaf-bare was fast approaching and it was common for most cats to fall under some kind of ailment. No one was immune to catching a cold.  Stormysage had always been an early riser, sometimes she was awake before the sun was even up. She had her own routine she liked to follow. Quietly rise from her nest as to not wake her brother, or any others that slept nearby, and carefully step around the rest of the sleeping warriors to exit the den. Then she'd sit by the pool of water, drink some, and maybe splash her face if she was struggling to fully wake. If she's assigned dawn patrol that morning then she'll patiently wait for the others to clamber out of the den, otherwise she just liked to sit by herself and enjoy the peaceful morning until the rest of the camp started to stir.
Currently, the tabby she-cat was sitting in her usual spot, trying to ignore how antsy she was starting to feel. Gingerflame hadn't assigned many patrols so far, and Briarstar and slunk off some time ago. Stormysage had half a mind to go out alone, that is until she spotted Cypressmask emerging from the warriors den. Relief washed over her like a wave and she was quick to rise to her paws to approach him.
"Good morning." She greeted kindly, giving her brother an affectionate lick across his cheek. "Are you looking to get out of here? Because I know I am." |
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Post by Dew on Jun 6, 2024 13:25:34 GMT -5
Hazelspring 
Coniferclan Camp - Open
Hazelspring, like most other warriors, had gotten up early that morning. But instead of joining a conversation like another cat would, she kept to herself, watching clan life from the shadows. Some mornings, she woke with the thought that she would be in the nursery, belly swollen with kits, with Sunnynose at her side. Those few moons had been the best of her life.
She still remembered it like it was yesterday, the sunlight filtering through, her flank pressed against Sunnynose. He would whisper in her ear, and they would talk. He had been one of the only cats she felt she could talk to without her bellow churning with worry. He had made her feel warm and fluttery inside, and she had loved him. Hazelspring had thought that he had loved her too, and maybe he had. But not anymore.
Once the kits had been born, they had all of Sunnynose's attention. She loved them too, both of them seemed perfect in every way. But Sunnynose didn't talk to her anymore. When he came to the nursery, he came for Lemonkit and Beekit, not for her. Maybe it's just while they are young. But she couldn't stand it anymore, so she finished it. They had been nothing but a fling that had ended in kits, and even though Sunnynose was a good father, he hadn't been a very good mate. Not to her.
She still loved him a little, and if he asked maybe she would say yes, but Hazelspring wasn't so sure anymore. She wasn't the young cat she once was, basically padding after the one she had once called hers. She hadn't moved on, and Sunnynose didn't seem too affected. Everycat knows he doesn't care much. She tried not to let watching Sunnynose playfully flirt with others hurt her too much, but it did. A part of her still wanted what she had when she was younger.
It was now nearing Sunhigh, and she was still sitting here, in the shadows. She ought to at least socialize right? Or maybe she should go and hunt alone, like she did most days. Maybe some cats worried that she didn't 'put herself out there', but Hazelspring didn't mind. She just didn't have much to say.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 6, 2024 15:18:55 GMT -5
Nightmask »
Once more her heart twisted in her chest. It was so obvious just how deep Oakstreak’s feelings ran for her, how loyal he had been to her throughout his entire life. He loved her more than life itself, so how could she tell him that she wasn’t here for him, but rather for her son?
A burr lodged itself in her throat. She swallowed, dry and scratchy. Nightmask wouldn’t even be here in Oakstreak’s dream if she could simply walk in the sleep of her son, but a medicine cat’s connection to StarClan was much stronger than the connection of a warrior.
It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t somewhat excited to see him. Oakstreak had been a friend, a cat she could have been with if the stars had been kinder to him. Under his gaze she purred and smiled, closing the whisker-length between them by pressing her face against his cheek, breathing in his scent - warm, herby, familiar, alive. It wasn’t until she was right here next to him that she realized how much she missed him, how much she had yearned to be with him again. Her heart belonged with Cedarstar, the two reunited together in the stars, but there would always be a part of her that belonged to Oakstreak. All those moons of teasing him, of stringing him along…all those moons of seeing how passionate he could be, how kind-hearted he truly was… Well, it was hard not to admire that.
For a moment she embraced him. Slowly she pulled away, her two-toned gaze meeting his amber. ”I don’t have long,” she murmured. StarClan’s power to walk in dreams was hard for a cat to control beyond a few moments. Nightmask could feel her essence shift and warp, calling for her to return to StarClan’s hunting grounds, but she held steady, remained strong. She just needed a few minutes, just long enough to speak with Oakstreak, to pass on her worries. If she could hold out just long enough for all that then she could return to StarClan happy.
Nightmask steeled her nerves and drew in a breath, her throat still scratchy and dry. She knew Oakstreak wanted her to speak with him about their relationship, about how they had not seen one another ever since Paintedmask’s tragic birth. Yet it was her son that had drawn her here in the medicine cat’s dream. She had watched from the stars as her son’s path became darker and darker. She feared he would cast away the stars entirely, and as a mother she longed for the day in which they could reunite in starlight. ”Paintedmask is in trouble, Oakstreak. He needs a cat to steer him back to the light.” Back to her. ”You once had paws in the shadows, yet you’ve stepped away. Show Paintedmask how to do that. Teach him how to channel his ambitions into good.” Nightmask’s eyes grew round with worry and concern, the troubled stare of a mother who knew her child was in trouble but could do nothing to stop them. ”Please, Oakstreak…”
Twisting and twirling she could feel the connection between the living and the dead falter. She squared her shoulders and gritted her teeth, desperate to hold on longer. She just needed a few more minutes. Just a chance to speak with Oakstreak, just a chance to save her son before it was too late.
Paintedmask »
Silence fell over Oakstreak’s den as Paintedmask stood there at the exit, ears pricked and alert toward the den he was all too familiar with. His fiery ambitions had quelled somewhat with a sense of peace washing over him in knowing that his uncle had found time to rest. As the Clan’s medicine cat Oakstreak was a busy cat. He had an entire Clan to care for, a task that even a youthful cat could find difficult. Paintedmask didn’t know how his uncle did it, how he kept up with it all. Even the youthful white and black warrior was tired just thinking about everything Oakstreak had to put up with, and he wasn’t even close to the age of the elderly brown tabby.
Paintedmask flexed his claws. He would soon be in a position like his uncle. The responsibility of the Clan would be placed on his shoulders. He would be the sole provider, the one to guide his Clanmates and comfort them in their time of need. He couldn’t afford to be tired. He couldn’t afford to be burdened by the hardships of a leader. If he was to be the rightful leader of ConiferClan then he needed to lead with pride and energy.
A flicker of movement from his peripheral grabbed his attention. Paintedmask shifted into gear and quickly side stepped away, amber eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the cream and brown pointed molly that had nearly walked right into him. His ears flattened against his head for a brief second. What was a warrior like her going around camp with thistledown in her brain? Even with patrols outside and most of the warriors gone from camp, cats still remained inside. A real warrior needed to always be on watch. Always be on guard.
Perhaps Paintedmask wouldn’t be as harsh to another warrior, a younger and less experienced cat. But Asterfrost and he were almost the same age, two moons apart. They had grown up together and had trained alongside one another for moons. She had the same amount of warrior experience that he did, and yet here she was, padding around camp like some addle-minded apprentice.
He huffed inwardly to himself. It was clear to him that Briarstar and Gingerflame’s leadership was allowing cats to become fluff-brained mice. ”You should watch where you’re going next time,” he muttered to the molly, voice low with a hint of annoyance to it. The last thing he had time for was a Clanmate who didn’t have her wits about her. It was true that Asterfrost had always been a soft-hearted cat, much like her littermate Burntears, but Paintedmask didn’t remember Asterfrost as a daydreamer type. When they had been apprentices together she had been quick to learn and eager to please. What had happened to that version of Asterfrost? What had happened to the cat that Paintedmask had once didn’t mind the company of? This wasn’t the first time he had noticed the pointed feline lost in her own world, unaware of what was happening around her. She had grown soft somewhere along the road, and Paintedmask had to wonder if the Clan’s current leadership was to blame for that.
Annoyed as he was with her lack of attention, he had half a mind to ask if she would accompany him on a makeshift patrol, yet parting his jaws revealed the scents of the forest and mountains already on the older warrior. Even Paintedmask, for as frustrated as he was about the Clan going soft, realized that warriors needed breaks in-between their patrols. A tired warrior was no better than a daydreaming one.
Certain he wouldn’t get much from the molly, Paintedmask flicked his ear in a silent farewell, preparing himself to walk away and locate a Clanmate who would have more energy and a better attention span than Asterfrost.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 6, 2024 18:25:11 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew Sand --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears could feel her excitement building at Oriolehop's teasing. She really wanted Auburnpaw to succeed at hooking a fish. She thought it would do wonders for Auburnpaw's confidence. "I believe in you." She purred softly toward the young she-cat. All of this encouragement made her wonder what her own children were up to. She hoped they were having fun adventures with their mentors today, and that Harespring was watching over one of them with pride from Starclan.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Every second of ghostly contact with the she-cat was like a dream come true. A scratchy, adoring purr escaped him as he buried his face in her fur. Every word she said echoed through his mind, and for the first time in many many moons, an old forgotten emotion surged through him. Guilt. Looking into her multicolored gaze with his own leaf green eyes, he choked back a sob. "I'm so sorry, Nightmask. I should have saved the both of you so long ago...I promise, I'll stop him." The thought of opposing his much stronger nephew made him want to gulp in fear. Instead, he just curled his tail with hers,"I know...I know you loved my brother, but...I need you to know something, in case I get sent to the Dark Forest. I love you. I always have. I only did as he asked because of that. I wanted to honor you...I'm sorry I failed you. Again." Tears were streaming down his face as he admitted this, the most vulnerable he had ever allowed himself to be since his injury.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SunnynoseWarrior * 41 moons * He/Him * tagged; 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Sunnynose had gone out especially early this morning, having wanted some time to hunt. He had found a Nutcracker bird distracted in one of the lower branches of the trees. A lot more commotion had come to the forest since then, and he passed the brook with the bird dangling from his mouth. On the one end was Burntears, Oriolehop, and Auburnpaw. Not interested in interrupting their hunt, he continued moving until he spotted his son, Beewhisker attempting to fish also. A purr began to fill his throat as he made his way over, watching his spawn from afar. He wanted to watch his son's technique, maybe give him a few pointers. He had always been an especially doting father, which probably contributed to why his relationship with Hazelskip fell apart. He tended to have tunnel vision, even when his heart was in the right place. Their breakup, while sad, hadn't kept the tom from continuing to persue whatever his heart was interested in at any particular moment. Currently he was hoping a few particular she-cats would be impressed by his catch this morning. For now though, he cared most for helping his son.
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Post by Dew on Jun 6, 2024 22:06:41 GMT -5
Gingerflame 
Gingerflame nodded, but he couldn't help but notice the hint of uneasiness that had settled around his apprentice. As far has he knew, this was the first, if not second time Gingerflame had brought Owlpaw here, as most cats were wary of it. Even a skilled Coniferclan cat could slip and fall.
Cloverpaw. Yes, that had to be it. Paintedmask's only apprentice. She had been an older apprentice, almost ready to be a warrior. Her death had stuck the clan hard, a suprising and unsettling one. A cat hadn't died from falling from the peaks for many moons, and Gingerflame was sure to keep it that way. Hopefully no other cats would face Cloverpaw's fate.
"It's going to be okay," Gingerflame said, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. Reassuring, yet still focused. Leaffall was going to turn into leafbare soon, and kits were on the horizon. His kits. Silverfern's kits. Their kits. Gingerflame couldn't wait to meet them.
Gingerflame lead Owlpaw to a more flat, forestly area. Somewhere that wasn't close to an edge. Honestly, why had Paintedmask even taken her out that far? There was plenty of room to hunt in the plains and forests above the camp, and yes the clouds seemed to be closer to the ground here, with snow blanketing the ground the further you went up, but a good warrior knew his territory inside and out. Not that he had anything against his clanmate, and he needed to focus on the session with Owlpaw now.
"Hunting can be a little harder up here, as you need to rely on your other senses. You may not be able to see your prey at all times, so you will need to be able to pinpoint its location with your ears and your nose, understand?" Palestream 
Palestream felt it didn't wouldn't have really mattered if she was there or not. Yes, she was a warrior alongside the other two, but they were mother an son. She was to say, the third wheel of this patrol. Palestream didn't mind, if they wanted to lead then go ahead, the floor was theirs. She would help them anyways, if this badger was a threat to Coniferclan.
The mention of Starclan testing the clan sent Palestream reeling. Did they really have the power to send a badger lumbering through the territory, or have a hawk circle above? Why would they? Didn't they want what was best for the clan? If she were to die, would she want to send a hawk to pick off a kit? No! Of course not! The badger and the hawk were just a coincidence, and that was all. Starclan wouldn't try to harm their clan in any way, that is what she believed.
Everycat seemed to be enveloped in their own thoughts for a moment, thinking of thay to do, or maybe even thinking of what they wanted to eat when they got back to camp. Of course, they had to make sure the elders and Silverfern had already eaten before they could start themselves, but with a big clan like they had, catching enough prey for everycat to at least share a piece wasn't too hard this time of year.
"What are we to do if we find it? The chances of it fleeing to our territory are possible if we fight it out there," Palestream flicked her tail to the place outside the borders. "The badger should see the world outside Coniferclan territory to be safe, and Coniferclan territory to be dangerous," she said, meeting the eyes of Wisteriasnow. The icy eyes of the older molly were enough to scare any cat out of their fur, when she was angry. But all Palestream wanted was for her clan to be safe, and she thought this was the best way to do it. "Kind of like training the badgers, if you think about it,"
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Post by Dew on Jun 6, 2024 22:07:42 GMT -5
Auburnpaw 
Auburnpaw wanted to win! She wanted to come back to camp with lots of fish in her jaw, and then Greyhawk would see how much progress she had made when he was gone. The idea of a game and the lesson seemed to have lifted the young molly's sadness about being left behind by her mentor, and it had been replaced by adrenaline for the session.
"We're going to win!" She whispering to Burntears, watching as Oriolehop crouched down by the bank of the brook to start fishing.
Now Auburnpaw knew why she didn't like to fish. It was kind of boring, waiting for the fish to come to you instead of you coming to it. The rush of the brook was slightly harmonic, bringing Auburnpaw into a sort of daze as she stared down at the brook below her. Could it be? Yes! A fish was swimming closer to her!
Auburnpaw quickly dashed her paw in, claws unsheathed. I've got it! She had a loose grip on it, but one of her claws was embedded into the slimy scales of the fish.
”I have one!” Came the sound from downstream, and Auburnpaw turned to look at the minnow Oriolehop had caught, but the break in her concentration had made her loosen the already loose grip she had on the slimy creature, and it swam away to safety. "Hey! You distracted me!" Auburnpaw half-teased, giving Oriolehop a disgruntled look.
As she crouched by the bank to fish again, planning on ignoring any more outbursts that came from her right, the soft voice of Burntears whispered to her. "I believe in you" The words seemed to add confidence to the molly, and the next time Auburnpaw saw a fish, she brought her paw down and caught it, quickly dragging it onto shore this time instead of waiting like she had before. "I got one!" She cheered, turning at showing her catch off to the rest of the patrol. "Look!" |
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Bisexual
𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢
just a sleepy guy
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Post by 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 on Jun 7, 2024 1:32:54 GMT -5
Asterfrost could feel her fur start to bristle when she caught the annoyance, even if it was just a hint of it, in his tone. She had already apologized hadn't she? There was no reason for him to be so short with her. Perhaps if she'd actually run right into him, or accidentally injured Paintedmask in some way, then she'd understand the annoyance, but they had managed to avoid a collision. Not to mention he completely ignored her inquiry and looked ready to walk away from her entirely. Now that made Asterfrost more upset than she would've liked to admit.
While the two warriors had grown apart over time, at one point the shorter molly would've considered them quite close. They'd grown up together after all. Sharing their days in the nursery, play fighting and chasing after moss balls. Asterkit, at the time, always arguing with a then Paintedkit because he refused to let anyone else play leader, and getting scolded by her mother to let him have his way because he was 'going through a hard time' whatever that meant. As she grew older she finally understood that it might've been hard growing up without a mother.
Their friendly rivalry carried over into apprenticeship until even that fizzled out. Who knows when. Asterfrost sure didn't. She couldn't even recall the last time they'd had a real conversation. The realization had just dawned on her, and for a moment she wondered if Paintedmask was mad at her. Mad that she'd dropped the ball on their friendship. Well, it takes two to make any relationship work, so he had to take just as much of the blame.
Maybe she should let him go and let him be a grump to someone else. Too bad Asterfrost never learned to keep that mouth of hers in check.
"Did Oakstreak at least give you a prescription for that attitude of yours?" She spoke up before the black and white tom could turn away from her, her fluffy brown tail lashing side to side. "I said I was sorry, you don't need to rub it in my face. And why are you even standing in front of the entrance like that? Maybe you should watch where you're standing." Asterfrost emphasized the word by taking a step closer to Paintedmask, a pointed look on her face.
By all means the fluffy feline was not trying to start an argument, but the words always flew out her mouth faster than she could catch the thought that had formed them. Unaware of his audience, Beewhisker finally settled at a deeper part of the brook, focusing on the water and watching for any fish to swim too close to the edge. When one did manage to drift close to him, the flame pointed tom shifted slightly, letting most of his weight onto his left forepaw while he raised the right. He made sure to get behind the fish so his shadow wouldn't spook it. Seconds ticked by and Beewhisker drew in a slow inhale, eyes laser focused on his prey. His paw moved in a flash as he exhaled, scooping the small trout out of the water and onto the dry bank. He was quick to lean down and give it a killing bite, but the fish flopped out of reach and further onto land.
"Woah, woah!" Beewhisker exclaimed unexpectedly, chasing his prey a few more flops before catching it and giving a lethal bite. He relaxed a little, not realizing he had tensed up in the first place, and was glad that no one had seen what must've been a pretty silly sight. That is until he finally got the sense of being watched and his head snapped to the side, making direct eye contact with his father.
"Mousedung." 
Rookberrys
✦✦✦
with Hazelspring // Dew Rookberry emerged from the warriors den and gave a long stretch, trying to ignore the popping of his aging joints. The large and fluffy tom fought off the urge to yawn as he took a couple of pawsteps further into camp, getting a lay of the land, trying to see who was still around and if there were any roles to fill. Now, the older warrior hadn't just woken up by any means. On the contrary he'd been up earlier that morning to go on dawn patrol then immediately snuck off to take a nap once they'd gotten back. Maybe in his youth he would've thought that was unacceptable behavior, but aging makes one tired and life was too short to deny oneself a nap.
His first instinct was to find his brother, Greyhawk, but for some reason it was Hazelspring sitting all by her lonesome that caught the large tom's attention. Putting on a big smile, the dark furred warrior trotted right over to the white and ginger molly and dipped his head in greeting when he got close enough.
"Morning, Hazelspring! Or is it afternoon now? I'm not confident on the time of day I suppose." He said with a rumbling chuckle, sitting down before her and glancing around. "Got any big plans for today? I hear the mice are skittering about because they're afraid you're going to catch them." It was common for Rookberry to joke around with anyone, it was in his nature to try to get everyone to smile. |
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Post by Dew on Jun 7, 2024 8:08:32 GMT -5
Hazelspring
Hazelspring thought she ought to hunt. But a quick glance around the camp told her that Sunnynose wasn't currently there, and she couldn't bear running into the Flamepoint tom. The breakup had happened moons ago, but the ache was still there, the longing. Their mateship had been labeled as a fling. Fling. That might be what Sunnynose wanted, but that wasn't what she wanted. I thought he would have known.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a certain Rookberry. Hazelspring was thankful for the distraction, she didn't want to get too worked up about it.
"Morning Rookberry," she said, getting to her paws and meeting the tom halfway. Her light ginger tail flicked back and forth slowly behind her, a note of her uneasiness around others.
At the older tom's joke Hazelspring let out a rare smile, but she didn't make any notion to leave if that was what Rookberry was implying. "No plans," she said, her eyes focusing on the camp entrance then flitting back to Rookberry. After a moment of silence on both their ends, Hazelspring thought about leaving the presence of this tom. That would be rude!
"What about you? Any plans?" She asked instead, deciding to keep the conversation going. What else was she to do anyways? Every cat needed to talk once in a while, even Silentshadow! Her only other option was to leave camp alone and hunt, and although that was temping, Hazelspring didn't really feel like running into Sunnynose today. The two hadn't talked much since the breakup, but she didn't know if it was because she was avoiding him, or he was avoiding her, or if fate was keeping them apart.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 7, 2024 19:56:49 GMT -5
Nightmask »
Neither Miststar nor Cedarstar had told her that dream walking with a cat of the living could hurt so much.
She wanted to fall into Oakstreak’s embrace, wanted to press into him and never walk away. Her heart lay with Cedarstar, but there was a part of her that would always have a life with Oakstreak. She recalled those days when they had been apprentices, how she would flirt and tease with him, how she would challenge him to race down the mountain slope only to tackle him once they were close to the bottom, rolling and tumbling against the ground until they had stopped, the two a tangle of limbs and fur. Her friendship with him had been special. Things could have been different.
If he had been the tree to thrive then their lives could have been so different.
She longed to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That he wasn’t the reason for why she and her daughter had died. She wanted to tell him that she was safe here in StarClan, that she loved the freedom and bliss that being in the stars gave her. She wanted to let him know that her daughter, whom she had named Brindlekit once they had been greeted into StarClan by her own mother, was safe and happy up here as well, but she couldn’t. Her throat was too dry, too many thorns piercing her delicate flesh. There were too many emotions happening, so much tension that was flaring. All her past mistakes, all her love, her laughter, her anguish… Looking into his green eyes didn’t make it any easier.
He loved her. She knew he did. She had known for a long time, even before her life had faded out. Nightmask adored Oakstreak, had affections for him. She’d argue that she even loved him in return, but she knew her love for him was not as strong as his was for her. Her love burned for him, but she had Cedarstar, and the love she felt for him was a hundred times more. He had been the brother to succeed, the brother that had grown strong and made it to the Clan’s leadership. He had thrived where Oakstreak had not, and Nightmask had always been a cat to pick the winning side. Her parents had instilled that in her since birth.
Even when she watched Oakstreak plot in the shadows with Flinthawk she still felt affection for the brown tabby. She had observed in despair as Oakstreak fed Cedarstar deathberries, painfully taking his last few lives. She had wanted to stop Oakstreak, wanted to have spoken to him in dreams, but his paws had traveled too far into the darkness for her starlight to reach. She wasn’t as powerful of a StarClan warrior as others. Her celestial powers could only go so far. Yet for all the dastardly plotting the medicine cat had done, for all the lives he had taken from his other brother, a part of Nightmask wanted to thank him. In some twisted part of her own brain Oakstreak had allowed her and Cedarstar to reunite at last. Oakstreak had allowed Cedarstar to return to Nightmask and Brindlekit, where they could be a family once more. A family missing only one member rather than two.
A deep breath. A tearful blink. A shake of the head. ”You’ve a place in StarClan,” she promised breathlessly. Even if all the stars denied him access she’d fight tooth and claw to get him among the starry ranks. She’d argue that Oakstreak had been a mere victim of Flinthawk’s ambitions, that his paws never would have strayed had the former deputy not been so demanding.
But she had not come for confessions of love. She had not come solely for Oakstreak. This visit was about her son. Paintedmask needed her, but she couldn’t reach him. Oakstreak was her only option.
Another deep breath. Nightmask looked intensely into Oakstreak’s gaze, trying to ignore all the pain and love that reflected inside. ”Promise me that you’ll talk to him. That you’ll guide him back to the light. Please, Oakstreak, please.” Her love for Paintedmask was so strong, so fierce. She knew her son had been promised glory and that he yearned desperately to earn what was his, but there had to be another way for him to do so. There had to be some other way… Nightmask wanted her son to live a long and healthy life, and when that life was over, she wanted to be reunited with him. She wanted to finally meet her son, the son she had given her life for all those moons ago.
Paintedmask »
Walking away wouldn’t work. He knew that. He was prepared for it. When one stubborn cat was met with a second just as stubborn cat, walking away got them nowhere.
Paintedmask hated how that worked.
The all too familiar voice of Asterfrost danced into his ears. Before he could even get a fox-length away from the molly she was right beside him once more, her tone sharper than it had been. Irritated. Annoyed. That was more like the Asterfrost he knew - not one to back down and not one to balk in the face of an adversary. She had not been the type to fly away in her thoughts until some moons ago, and quite frankly, Paintedmask found the haughty side of Asterfrost to be much preferred.
Annoyance ebbing away from him like water being brought back to its source, Paintedmask’s hackles lay low upon his frame. His tail stilled, relaxing and draping across the camp floor. His amber eyes met the intense blue gaze of the cat who had been his denmate for his entire life. ”I was only there visiting. Can a cat not visit their kin?” The tom’s voice was no longer a grating hiss, a sour growl. There remained an edge deep within, yet it was mostly obscured by the white and black warrior’s relaxation now that Asterfrost was back to her usual self.
A momentary narrowing of his amber eyes reflected the thought that crossed his mind. She’s a fine warrior under the right leader. Paintedmask was sure she’d be an even better warrior once he took his rightful place as the Clan’s -star. He needed to get rid of Gingerflame. He needed to end Briarstar’s pathetic reign. Cedarstar had promised that ConiferClan would be his one day, and now Cedarstar was gone, eradicated by none other than his own deputy, and further than that, his own brother. Paintedmask’s father should have called his name that fateful night in which Flinthawk was brought back to camp, lifeless and shredded. He had been a decomposing corpse the night he was brought back. Yet when it came time for Cedarstar to announce his new deputy, it had not been Paintedmask’s name that he had called. Rather than call for his son to step forward and assume his promised role, it had been Briarwhistle. Briarwhistle of all cats. Paintedmask couldn’t deny that she was a formidable warrior, loyal to the Clan, but she had no social skills, no drive to learn and understand how the cats she led worked. All she did was hide in her den or disappear into the shadows of the outside territory.
She fit the description of a loner better than she did a leader.
Once more Paintedmask was reminded of the mountainous scents that clung to Asterfrost’s fur. She had been outside the camp already today, something that Paintedmask had yet to accomplish. His ear twitched, angling toward the camp’s exit. If he were to be a proper leader he needed to get out there and do his duty as a warrior. He needed to get out there and plot his plan further - soon he would execute his ideas. Soon he would see Gingerflame buried deep within the ground. Soon he would see himself rising to leadership. No longer could he wait for that role. Oakstreak had told him to be patient, but patience had gotten him nowhere. If he were to get what he craved, then he would have to strike soon.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 7, 2024 20:01:20 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew Sand --------------------------------------------------------------------- Watching Auburnpaw catch a fish successfully caused Burntears to purr even louder. "You did amazing! Now we gotta keep going, otherwise Oriolehop will win!" Burntears positioned herself to help catch some fish herself, not wanting the apprentice to be the only one contributing. She spent a while waiting for fish, occasionally looking at Auburnpaw happily when she caught her eye. This was a lot more fun than she had expected!
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SunnynoseWarrior * 41 moons * He/Him * tagged; 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Sunnynose stiffled a laugh at the sight of his son fumbling. As amusing as it was, he didn't want to embarass the young cat any further. "Good morning," He began, padding over to the other cat, making sure not to leave his catch behind. "Seems like fishing is a popular method of hunting today." He looked over the younger tom with pride, remembering the days when he was but a scrap of fluff in the nursery. "Catching for anycat in particular, son? I think Wisteriasnow will definitely appreciate it if I offer her this juicy bird that I caught."
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 7, 2024 20:16:18 GMT -5
(Anyone who wants to bump into or throw a threat at Oak while he is having his breakdown please feel free) OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; --------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak nodded feverishly in response to her pleas, his entire body shaking with emotion. Every bit of his fur stood on end as he felt himself being sucked away from her. He tried to claw and kick at the ground, but her presence him his dream was sucked away akin to a vaccuum. His eyes split open painfully, finding his nest soaked wet from tears and torn up from his kicking. A growl began to build in his throat, until he focused his mind on the vision of her. He had spent far too much of his life sulking. Hiding. Nightmask had asked him to save her son, and he knew he had to do what he couldn't for her and her daughter all of those moons ago. He struggled out of his nest, but didn't dare to shake out the moss. The old Medicine cat found his bundle of deathberries and took care to wrap them up discreetly. He poked his head out of the den, noticing that Paintedmask hadn't gotten very far. It was disorienting to know that his vision, which felt like a lifetime, was another one of his minute or so fitful naps once again. He did his best to race away from his den and out into the wilderness. He had a promise to keep. His green eyes were unable to hide the frenzy of emotions spinning within him, despite able to keep the rest of his body mostly relaxed. As foolish as this could be for the three-legged cat, he was heading to the cliffside. These berries had to be disposed of.
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Post by Sand on Jun 9, 2024 13:59:45 GMT -5
Oriolehop the brook — accompanied by: Burntears & Auburnpaw he/him - warrior
 Oriolehop, as mentioned before, wasn't the best at fishing. However, his first catch was decent albeit messy. He glimpsed over at Burntears and Auburnpaw, who were having a chaotic start to their hunt. He wanted to admit, seeing the two of them get along as if they were mentor and apprentice was nice. They were bonding well.
Instead of catching another fish, the ginger and white tabby kept his focus on Burntears and Auburnpaw. Once the young silver tabby teased him, he let out a mrrow of amusement. "Me? Distract you during our competition? I'd never do that!" he teased back before turning to face the brook again.
As his gaze drew over the brook, Oriolehop noticed the silhouette of a fish. He carefully sat back, prepared to scoop the fish up from the water and into his paws. However, Auburnpaw's cheers distracted him in which he gazed over at the apprentice and let out a chuckle. "Great job, Auburnpaw!" he praised the young she-cat, noticing that Burntears was having a good time too.
He slowly returned his attention to the water and realized the fish he had spotted before was long gone. Looks like I'll have to find another, the fluffy tom thought to himself before crouching down.
[ tags: 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
Cariboupaw camp -> outside of camp — accompanied by: Sorrelsnap she/her - apprentice
 Cariboupaw was more than full of herself– she believed she was the best apprentice in the clan, excelling at all skills of her older and younger denmates. It couldn't be farther from the truth. She was only eight moons old and she acted like she had become a warrior days ago. Still, she planned on proving to Sorrelsnap that she could hunt well.
As the pointed feline hurried out of camp, she knew that the elder wasn't as fast as she was. Despite her bulky frame, Cariboupaw could run although her pelt tended to slow her down. At least Sorrelsnap was an easier opponent compared to some of her denmates, but did that really count? A shiver traveled down her spine at the thought of leaf-bare; Cariboupaw was lucky enough to have long fur, but she despised the colder weather. Yet it was only fitting as a ConiferClan cat due to the weather they faced. As soon as she heard Sorrelsnap's tart comment, she rolled her blue eyes. "Yeah, whatever you say, Sorrelsnap," she responded, clearly not taking the ginger and white tabby's comment seriously. She craned her neck back to glimpse at him. "Y'know, one moon is a lot. We'll see if you're still in shape!"
Luckily for Sorrelsnap, Cariboupaw hadn't heard his rude mutter. She was too focused on finding a place to hunt. If she wanted to show Sorrelsnap what she was made of, she needed to appear confident and competent. "How much farther do you wanna go?" she asked as she came to a stop. "Obviously you won't be training with me, so I just wanna know where you want to stop."
[ tags: Feathertalon | image credit: pinterest ]
Cypressmask camp — accompanied by: Stormysage he/him - warrior
 Cypressmask, unlike Stormysage, wasn't much of an early bird. He liked taking his time when it came to waking up. That way, he would feel refreshed and ready to go. Even if he took his time in the morning, at least Cypressmask was prepared for his day.
At the sight of his littermate, he bounded over to her with a wide grin. The dark grey and white tabby tom returned Stormysage's sign of affection with a quick lick on her cheek. "Morning!" he mewed as his green gaze searched the camp for Gingerflame and Briarstar.
It appeared that the deputy and leader were both out of camp. With a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes lit up once Stormysage offered to leave camp. "Oh, you know it," Cypressmask replied before coming to a pause. "Where are we headed?"
[ tags: 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 | image credit: pinterest ]
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Post by whispering on Jun 9, 2024 14:05:50 GMT -5
Leaf-fall was her favorite time. Yes, it meant the beginning of shorter days and empty bellies, but Silentshadow adored the chill. Amongst the hues of orange, yellow, and red as the leaves died away and whisked down to the forest floor. Sure, the greenery of the summer was just as vibrant, but the warm colors were far more appealing to her. They made her feel at peace.
The sun slowly climbed higher and higher into the sky, sending dapples of sunlight through the tree limbs. It welcomed a cold warmth onto her pelt as she stalked back toward the tall cypress she'd left her sister. A sparrow dangled limply from her jaws, its wings dragging at the leaves that littered the forest floor. Along with the shrew she caught earlier, the black-furred molly had dispatched two mice. All her previous frustrations and anger had ebbed away; hunting always seemed to put her at ease, nothing but she, the dark huntress of the mountains, and her prey.
There was something about the dark satisfaction that overcame her as she stole away the essence of life. It was in the eyes; they gleamed with life and slowly grew dull and cloudy after she struck.
You're a natural killer. Her father's amber eyes flashed before her, but she ignored it with a flick of her ear. I'm not a killer. I'm simply providing for my Clan. That was what Flinthawk and Wisteriasnow raised her to do. She and her siblings didn't suffer such strict training for anything. Silentshadow and Slatestorm were molded into the warriors their parents destined them to be. And even that was not enough. Their mother's cold look of disapproval, of criticism, never left. Nothing satisfied her.
But at least there wasn't as much hatred as in the looks she gave Rattlepaw. Daggers of disgust thrown to the gray-and-white molly when no one was looking. She felt a pang of guilt. Rattlepaw got it worse now that the other two had been made warriors. No cat should be lucky not to feel their mother's rage. It was a terrible feeling that Silentshadow knew all too well. But why should she feel guilty? She did everything in her power to encourage her sister to excel, to release herself from whatever funk held her back. But Rattlepaw was stubborn. She was insistent on not doing anything. If Cedarstar and Briarstar, the warrior who'd been her mentor first, couldn't do it, how could Silentshadow?
What are your goals, Rattlepaw? She thought, as her sister came into view. Hunched over and looking sad, she was always so melancholy these days. Her paws lightly crunched along the fallen leaves as she neared. She gave a muffled mrrw of greeting, dropping the bird with her other catches.
"Manage to catch anything yet?" She queried casually, spitting out feathers. Silentshadow had asked the question each time she rejoined at their meeting spot. And the answer had steadily been no. Deep down, she knew that would continue to be the answer. There had been no fresh scents of blood, no added morsels to her meager pile. Her sister's pale fur remained unscathed.
The further he thundered through the undergrowth, the more intense the sharp pain in his foot grew. But he didn't care. He ignored it; saving his family was the only objective on his mind.
A yowl pierced the air, and Eagleswoop pushed forward, growling at the searing pain in his wrenched paw. The scent of hawk and cat grew stronger- Briarstar and Beaverpelt. Beaverpelt? He thought with a twinge of surprise. Yes, and she may as well have brought Silverfern along as well. Let's rally up a patrol of all the vulnerable cats in the Clan! How mouse-brained was his mate? Already taking such a risk straying so far from camp with one of the clan's eldest cats, but to take on a hawk while she was at it? While pregnant. His rage grew as he burst through the brittle bracken, taking in the scene unfolding.
The avian was diving straight for Beaverpelt, the skinny brown town crouched low and hissing. His claws unsheathed as he swiped at the much larger bird.
Yowling a battle cry, the tabby threw himself into action. He launched into the air with outstretched claws, shifting all his weight to his forelegs as he slammed into the hawk before the talons could meet the elder's flesh. The impact sent them both tumbling to the ground, Eagleswoop's heavy body landing with a thud into a pile of leaves. The warrior wanted to lie and catch his breath; from his mad dash to the energy he'd put into his attack, he was overexerting himself. But there was no time to be dazed. The bird was regaining its balance, giving a stunned shake of its head before a mighty flap from its wings. Its dark, beady eyes returned hungrily toward Beaverpelt and Briarstar.
Eagleswoop scrambled to his paws, wincing as the pain from his paw shot up to his shoulder. He must have worsened his injury in his fall, but no matter. Lips curled into a snarl, he jumped in front of his clanmates. His fur bushed up and his ears pinned back, tail lashing two and fro, "Get back!" He'd snarled, whipping around to glare at Beaverpelt, lingering on his bristling leader. He felt a rush of emotions; she was so mousebrained! Yet the fiery look in her amber eyes and how her size doubled with her fur on end reminded him of her beauty. How attractive she was in the heat of a fight.
"Snowpaw!" He called the white tom, he hadn't been aware of his apprentice's clumsy pursuit until now. "I'm gonna fight." He declared, turning his orange gaze back to the bird. "Go around and get on its back, and don't let go."
Hissing and spitting, Eagleswoop darted forward and reared up onto his hindlegs. His forepaws swiped furiously at the bird's chest, sending swaths of feathers into the air. He didn't stop until he felt the warm blood on his paws. Now, the fight was getting interesting. The big tom dodged as the bird advanced, beak snapping and barely missing his ear. Instead, it took with it a tuft of his fur. "You'll regret it, mange-pelt." He growls before launching and sinking his teeth into the bird's throat. Its wings beat rapidly, trying to shake off the weight of the cats, and Eagleswoop hoped, prayed, that Snowpaw didn't let go.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 9, 2024 14:33:25 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; whispering ladylantsov  --------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowpaw's chest heaved as he kept up with his mentor's breakneck pace toward the hawk. Despite how tired he felt, there was so much admiration that coursed through the young cat. All he could think as he watched Eagleswoop pounce on the hawk was just how much he wanted to be like him someday. His mentor was the epitome of what every kit dreamed a warrior would be. Kind yet fierce. Snowpaw acknowledged his mentor's command with a tail flick. He crouched and approached with urgency, preparing himself. When he saw the opportunity, he latched his claws onto the hawk's back and held on with every ounce of strength within him. The fear and excitement never left him, but it was hard to acknowledge due to the thrashing of the large bird underneath him. Never having been insecure about his size before this moment, he wished he were heavier. It was hard to tell if just his weight would be enough to hold it down while the other cats tore at it. "You're not going anywhere!"He growled as the resistance from the bird persisted.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew Sand--------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears flicked her ears as she listened to the world around her. What a beautiful day. Inevitably, she was distracted again. Although it was hard to see, her mind drifted away from the brook and thought about what she would do when she got back to the camp. She thought of checking on Owlpaw and Cariboupaw, having missed seeing either of her kits today. Maybe she would even check up on Asterfrost! The possibilities were truly endless, and a very soft purr returned to her as she thought of her family. How truly blessed she felt. It always made the sting of loss lessen when she could think about the family she still had around...what was she doing again? Oh, right, fishing!
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 9, 2024 17:32:35 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BEAVERPELT, EAGLESWOOP & SNOWPAW WHISPER WOODS Her ears went flat to her head as the bird reappeared through the cloud line, lunging immediately for her elderly clanmate. The dark furred molly hurls herself, thinking only of the need to protect the elder and nothing else in that moment, overtaken by her life-long tendency to put her body in the way of the a threat to her Clan - kits or no kits.
But her claws haven’t even had the chance to take their first swipe true and proper, when her avenging angels descended upon the scene.
For an instant the Leader is dumbfounded, like each of her 9 lives had been stripped from her and she’d found herself standing before the star-spangled ranks of her ancestors, or an apprentice on their first trip outside of camp. So unexpected is the arrival of her saving grace, like he himself is Star-sent.
By now she really ought to expect him.
Eagleswoop has always found a way to save her.
One of these days she might just earn it.
Thankfully, it lasts little more than a heartbeat before she completely ignores her mate’s command to back off, and lunges toward his side. Bodies, one dark as night the other like golden light filtering through dark tree canopies, fight side by side. Each swipe, each parry, each retaliation a near perfect mirror to Eagleswoop’s. Testament to moons spent bullying and competing with each other, that had eventually evolved into fighting side by side. Briarstar doesn’t need to look at him nor read his mind to know his thoughts, can already feel the heat of his words when this is over.
She would accept his furies, welcome them. This isn’t how she’d wanted today to end.
If they’ve survived this, she would beg the stars forgiveness for all of it.
For a second time the hawk takes to the air, this time making it only a matter of foxlengths before diving again, this time talons extended for Eagleswoop’s scruff. Briarstar doesn’t give it the opportunity to connect with the flesh of the Tom she owes far too much too as is, lunging and colliding.
Their bodies tumbling, tumbling, until the much heavier molly lands, hard beneath the bird. Her furious yowl mingling with the sounds of talons tearing through fur and flesh.
Briarstar was down less than a moment, hind legs kicking with every ounce of power she possessed to keep the hawk away from her upturned belly, when Snowpaw lands on the bird’s back. Drags it away from Briarstar, and she is on her paws again like she’d never been downed in the first place.
Lunging again, while the creature is distracted by the apprentice.
She bites until her fangs meet bone - and the hawk releases a single, ear-piercing shriek before falling limp in Briarstar’s bloodied maw, only when it’s eyes have begun glaring over, does the Queen loosen her grip from its throat.
It’s not clear whether Briarstar realises how heavily her breaths tug from her burning lungs as she staggers away, barely able to place her right hind leg to earth. Her paws trek bloody prints on cold earth, but unlike the crimson smattering her mouth, this blood is her own. At first merely trickling, but quickly coming in a steadier stream, and within heartbeats - her belly fur is matted with the red leeking from a particularly cruel gash. One that starts at her chest and extends part way down her swollen stomach.
“We need to get back to camp,” Briarstar has to fight to get the words beyond her lips. It’s a testament to just how wretched the pain is, that it eeks into her voice, leaving the words quiet, yet strained and hoarse. Like it was this option or patting her lips and letting out a wretched scream. Her first concern isn’t her own pain but her clanmates, dull eyes traipse over each of them, searching for wounds on instinct, but her vision is blurred, her mind muddied. ”We… we need…” and her legs buckle out from under her.
Too late to silence the groan of pain as her body hits earth, blood already pooling beneath her. |
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 9, 2024 22:20:28 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; whispering ladylantsov --------------------------------------------------------------------- The young white tom very cautiously pulled his claws out of the bird when the body went completely limp. He went at a rather slow pace too, not wanting to let it get away and cause anymore harm and ensuring it was dead. Suddenly, horror spilled onto his face as he looked to Briarstar's gashes. This was bad."Do you want me to help bring her to camp or should I run ahead and find my brother?" He asked his mentor quickly, trying to analyze everything. As much as he hated the musty herb scent of the Medicine Cat Den, he would brave it as many times as he had to to keep his leader safe.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged;--------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak felt the freezing winds cutting him like a knife as he approached the cliff face. Here, the winds were wild and unobstructed by the tree line. He tried to keep himself steady, worried of losing his balance with no cat there to help him. He reared his head back before tossing the last of the deathberries over the ledge, hissing at them as they disappeared from view. Only once he was sure they were unable to be recovered, he turned his body back to head toward camp. The running had exhausted the old, tired cat even further. Breathing was difficult, coming out in short, ragged bursts into the air around him. His limp had never felt harder than it did in this moment, and it causedthe old cat to wince. He knew he couldn't stay this far away from camp too long, as all of his moons as a Medicine cat had helped him intuit that moments like this were usually when he was needed most. At the very least, his duitiful young apprentice could put out any immediate fires in his absence. He was more worried about what kind of excuses he would have to come up with for going out on his own and returning empty pawed. Even worse, he had to reason with his ambitious nephew. Fear prickled at his fur almost as cuttingly as the wind itself. He promised Nightmask he would do this. He would not, could not, fail her again.
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Post by whispering on Jun 10, 2024 11:43:26 GMT -5
Owlpaw
with gingerflame Dew
Owlpaw trotted briskly after the ginger deputy. His blue eyes gleamed with excitement. His thick fur puffed up to block out the cold. The young cat had never experienced leaf-fall before. And at first, he'd been sad as the warm days of greenleaf dwindled. The crispy coolness of the morning air had been unsettling. Or how the green foliage he'd grown so used to give way to yellows and browns, leaves littering the forest floor.
And it only gets colder, His father told him and his siblings. That is the beauty of being a warrior. You contribute to your clan in the rain, sleet, or snow, even on the coldest days. With being a great warrior means great sacrifice to ensure the comfort of others.
Haresprint had been such a confident cat. Owlpaw would have given his tail to speak with his father again. To hear his deep, hearty laughter. He loved Owlpaw's jokes. At least Burntears can still laugh at my jokes. The apprentice thought with a small smile at the thought of his mother. As long as she was safe and happy, he would be happy.
As the forest floor transitioned to rock, Owlpaw converted his concentration to scrambling up after his mentor. His developing muscles were no match for Gingerflame's seasoned skills, he observed the ginger tom's ability to climb up the jagged rock, doing his best to copy the movements. The higher up they went the more the clouds touched the mountains. The air seemed to be denser. Down look back. He reminded himself, imagining how dizzyingly high up they must be from the trees they'd left behind. Patches of snow dotted the ground and on top of what little trees and shrubs that grew this high up in the mountains.
How would he pull off hunting with only his senses? Nodding to his mentor, he gave the air a curious sniff, picking up a faint scent of mouse. "There's a mouse somewhere over there, in the fog." He mewed, angling his ears towards scraggly shrubs hanging onto the mountainside.
He shouldn't have been surprised when his mate, instead of falling back like he told her to, joined him in the fight. She reared up, matching him blow for blow. Under different circumstances, he may have been prideful to have such a powerful and brave she-cat fighting beside him. But the knowledge of their secret only made his frustrations grow. Forever would she be the stubborn Briarwhistle, even as a 'star.
A wing smacked him hard and sent him flying, taking a mouthful of flesh with him. Eagleswoop fell, his shoulder making a blood-wrenching popping sound. He let out a pained groan; this time, he didn't get up.
Through blurred vision the tabby watched as the hawk rounded on him, he braced himself, accepting his fate. If he died protecting the cats he'd sworn to protect, then so be it. At least his kits would know their father fought to his last breath, that he'd sacrificed himself to ensure their safety.
But the talons never did connect. And he wasn't carried off into the distance. The dark figure of Briarstar intercepted. "N-no!" He managed to stammer, struggling onto his feet, trying to regain his consciousness. But the pain in his shoulder prevented him from making much progress. Eagleswoop fell back with a hiss of pain. His whole leg seemed to be screaming, calling him a mouse-brained fool. Must've dislocated it. It wouldn't be the first or last time.
Gritting his teeth, the warrior rose again, favoring his injured leg before limping to his mate. Horror gripped him as he watched the hawk flap and claw at the cat beneath it, Snowpaw just barely clinging to its back. Until finally, it was still. "Briarstar!" He rasped, as the bird was rolled over and his mate struggled to her paws. For a second, he was relieved to see that she wasn't hurt. But it only lasted for a second. His tabby face dawned with horror at the reek of blood and the dazed look on the molly's face. Ignoring the intense pain in his shoulder, he raced over to her.
"No. No, no, no," He murmured, amber eyes wide as moons when he saw the nasty gash along her flank. Her stomach. "Go," Eagleswoop roared, whirling on his apprentice. "Hurry!"
He needed to stop the bleeding, and fast. Frantically, he pawed up scoops of the leaves that littered the ground, rushing back to his mate to press them against her wound. "Beaverpelt, look for cobwebs! W-we need to stop the bleeding." The blood gushed through the brittle leaves, but he held his grip firm.
"You damned mouse-brain." Eagleswoop added quietly to his mate, "What am I going to do with you? Fighting hawks, swollen with kits. My kits. Any cat would think you enjoyed driving me mad." Briarstar would be fine. His kits would be fine. He kept repeating it to himself, reassuring himself. If he willed it, it would be true. They had to be fine.
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Post by aquatail on Jun 10, 2024 16:19:24 GMT -5
Pheasantpaw
She looked around spotting her mentor Cypressmask about to leave camp without her! She saw his littermate "oh". She thought well what else is there for me to do. So instead she walked over to her mentor. "Hi" he nearly jumped two feet in the air. "Can I come too ?"
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 10, 2024 18:04:43 GMT -5
Rattlepaw »
Once upon a time hunting had been a thrilling experience for the young cat. Once upon a time she had waited eagerly for the chance to stalk through the shadows and locate unsuspecting prey. She had pranced happily just moments after sinking her claws and fangs into the warm flesh of a once living being, holding her head and tail high knowing that she was proving for her Clan.
Flinthawk had been proud of her. Wisteriasnow had merely scoffed at her.
Her father had always praised her. Her mother had always scorned her.
”Flinthawk is dead.”
What cat had reported the news, Rattlepaw could no longer remember. All she remembered was watching as her father’s body was dragged back to camp, his fur grimy and matter, body limp and lifeless, eyes blank and staring. There was no way that had been Flinthawk, no way that the mighty warrior who stood tall and proud at the head of the Clan had been defeated. Something terrible had happened to him. Something tragic. Something frightening.
A monster stalked the shadows of the conifers. A monster that could be coming for her next.
Wisteriasnow had allowed her children to grieve their father’s death during the vigil. Rattlepaw would even go so far as to say that her mother grieved that night as well, but Wisteriasnow was a flawless actress, able to play the part of a doting mother and soft-hearted mate perfectly. The next morning once Flinthawk had been lowered into the ground and covered by piles of soil, Wisteriasnow had reverted back to her usual self - hatred spewing from her lips, berating her children, snapping at them to get back to their duties, to push for success, to train harder. Silentpaw and Slatepaw had gotten right back to their training as if nothing had happened. Rattlepaw had been stuck, cursed with the image of her father’s broken body.
He had believed in her. Sure, he had a twisted way of showing it, but he had believed in her and she had wanted to make him proud. She wanted to show him that she could be the best she could be.
Then he died.
Then he was murdered.
Blue eyes, paranoid and distraught, scanned the shadows, observed the flickering of light. His killer was still out there. His killer was hiding somewhere. His killer could be coming for her next.
Wisteriasnow had noticed Rattlepaw falling behind. She had noticed one of her kits failing while the others succeeded - not that she ever thought a kit of hers had succeeded. Their warrior assessments had been conducted. Two passed, one failed.
Anger had flared in her mother’s eyes. Claws had ripped through delicate flesh. Fury spat from her mother’s mouth. Despair had filled Rattlepaw’s heart.
As her siblings had been named warriors, she had sat there, broken. Happy for her littermates. Scared for herself.
Maybe if Flinthawk had still been alive then maybe she would have pushed herself to keep going. Maybe she would have been able to deflect her mother’s hateful words. But her father was dead, her mother was vengeance, and a murderer was a mystery.
Pawsteps thudded silently upon the ground, mere vibrations that alerted Rattlepaw of an oncomer.
Distracted eyes glanced forward. Fur bristled along her spine. Were these friendly paws or the steps of an enemy?
Seconds ticked by. The scent of blood rolled over her. Warm, musky, tantalizing.
Rattlepaw’s stomach lurched, rumbling deep within her.
Prey blood. Not cat blood.
Silentshadow was back.
”Manage to catch anything yet?”
It was only Silentshadow who had contributed to the small pile of prey that was growing larger with each catch she had made. Rattlepaw’s ear twitched, heart thudding. No creature had been felled by Rattlepaw in moons. Where she sat now was where she had been sitting since Silentshadow had started her hunt. A pristine pelt of gray and white, no droplets of blood stained the should-be warrior.
Rattlepaw shook her head.
She would never have it in her to catch anything ever again.
Sorrelsnap »
Crisp pine air rolled across Sorrelsnap, gentle scents of sap and earth tickling against his tongue and brushing over his nose. Musty and natural, it was a relaxing scent that the ginger and white tabby would never find boring. It was the same scent he had smelled in his apprentice days, the same scent that coated the air when he was a warrior, and now it was how the world smelled to him as an elder. It was the scent of ConiferClan. The scent of home.
Sorrelsnap drew in a deep breath. He had changed over the seasons, had gotten older, weaker, more tired, but the world around him continued on. Age did not matter to the trees. Lifespans were but a mere myth to the sky that stretched high above, to the wind that drifted. The earth beneath his paws was the same dirt that his ancestors, and their ancestors, had traveled upon. This land had seen countless cats, yet Sorrelsnap would only get to gaze upon it for a few more seasons.
Cariboupaw’s voice dragged the tom’s attention back to the present. His tail swished, a silent reply dancing upon his tongue. A moon was a lot in the mind of a young cat, but to an elder such as Sorrelsnap, a moon was merely a blink of an eye. A moon to the young Sorrelkit had felt like seven seasons. A moon to Sorrelpaw had been five seasons. Now a moon passed him by just by taking an hour long nap. Oh, how time simply flew.
Creaky bones and old paws followed along, chest already heaving despite the camp’s well hidden entrance still in view. At Cariboupaw’s question a strong part of him wanted to tell her that they could head on out a little further, but a sharp ache radiating from his hip and into his spine told him that going any further would result in him most likely needing to lean on Cariboupaw to make it back to camp. As hard as it was Sorrelsnap needed to swallow his pride, something he had been learning to do over the past moon. It wasn’t easy, and a lot of the time he failed at his lessons, but it was something he needed to do. It was something Eagleswoop would want him to do.
A quick glance over was all Sorrelsnap needed - a clove current bush sat nearby with leaves still thick. The tabby elder slowly made his way toward the vegetation, doing what he could to ignore the pain stinging in his hindquarters. ”I’ll take a seat here. You go on and try to catch something.” Before the apprentice could make some snide remark about how they were still so close to camp, Sorrelsnap added, ”Only true warriors can hunt somewhere where prey is scarce.” A challenge would surely fire Cariboupaw up. A challenge would have her itching to get going and scout out a squirrel or mouse or whatever may be lurking around nearby. A challenge was just what she needed to get out of Sorrelsnap’s fur just long enough for him to rest and enjoy the fresh mountain breeze.
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Post by 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 on Jun 10, 2024 20:05:22 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- Once again the young white tom's paws had hit the ground like thundering hooves. He pushed himself in this moment. He needed to be faster, for Briarstar's sake. The cliffs and trees were a blur as his body instinctually made it's way back to camp. Almost there. Almost there. He skidded across the entrance log, only slowing to ensure he didn't fall off of it completely. His wild, greenish-gray eyes scanned the clearing critically for the familiar sight of his littermate. No such sight of the long furred medicine cat apprentice came to him. On instinct he peered into the Medicine Den, his stomach lurching from it's herbal smells as well as the sight of it barren of any cats. "Oakstreak?" Foxdung, why were all of the Medicine cats not in their den when he needed them? Desperately, he instead stepped into the clearing of camp and called out,"Buckpaw! I really need your help! Where are you?" He continued whipping his head around, determined to find his brother at the moment he became visible.
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 10, 2024 21:24:10 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt had lunged upwards, reaching for the bird with outstretched claws. He was ready, ready to do what it took for his clan to be safe, when the bird was knocked out of the air by another cat. Beaverpelt blinked and realized who was now ferociously attacked the bird. Eagleswoop.
Beaverpelt did as his clanmate said, trusting in the warrior. Thank StarClan, there were more warriors here. But he did find it humorous to consider that maybe Eagleswoop had some sort of innate ability to track his mate. To sense her danger, and arrive as quickly as he could.
He stayed back and low, watching the formidable warriors attack the hawk. While Beaverpelt was still on alert for any moment he might need to jump in, he knew these two were more than capable of taking down this beast.
Beaverpelt’s fur bristled while Briarstar rolled with the bird. He stepped closer, slowly, careful to not shock the bird. Feelings of relief washed over him when he saw the bird go limp. The enemy was defeated, and maybe the clan could feast as well?
Beaverpelt stood up and began to approach Briarstar, tail beginning to raise. He stopped when he noticed all the blood pooling around her. He stiffened. Oh no… And when Briarstar falls, he rushes to her side, concern covering his face.
“Briarstar, stay with us!” Beaverpelt managed to get out. “You have much more to do in your life than this old fool.” He looked down at his leader, wishing something could have been done to prevent this.
Beaverpelt nodded to Eagleswoop. He would find cobwebs. Primrosesplash, do you hear that? Cobwebs. Guide me to them.
He began to walk slowly away, as his joints were screaming at him to stop and lay down. He froze when he heard Eagleswoop speaking to his mate.
Kits? She was expecting kits? Well, now Beaverpelt must find the cobwebs as soon as possible. He hurried as fast as his old legs could take him, off to the trees to find the largest bunch of cobwebs possible. |
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Post by Dew on Jun 11, 2024 15:37:52 GMT -5
Gingerflame
Gingerflame was not a cat of no fears. He had always had fears, when he was young, when he was proud. It was true, with age and practice you did get over some fears, but you never got over all of them. Even the bravest cat was not fearless. Gingerflame was not so concerned for his own fears anymore, they were always there, the fear that somecat's death would be his fault, that he would someday get shamed in front of the entire clan. That is why he worked so hard. With his accomplishments he had been rewarded, and greatly. He has trained numerous apprentices, and now he was clan deputy. He was also training another young cat, Owlpaw, who seemed to be progressing nicely in his training.
"Very good. Now why don't you try to catch it?" Gingerflame said, flicking his ginger tail towards where the mouse seemed to be hiding. Hunting had been the next task, and his intuitive apprentice had jumped right on it, before he had even needed to ask. Gingerflame remembered the first few times he had been here. Young Gingerpaw had scoffed at the thought of hunting without sight, because why couldn't they just hunt in the woods, or the brook? His first few hunts he had barley brought anything back, and he had hung his head with shame. But over time he had gotten better, and how he felt he could hunt any prey with his eyes closed. "Remember to focus on all of your senses,"
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