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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 18, 2024 8:15:26 GMT -5
Beaverpelt || whispering, ladylantsov, ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ, FeathertalonBeaverpelt walked briskly away in the direction of the stream. His joints protested, and he wanted to lie down in the sun more than anything, but he knew he must go on. I can do this. For the kits.Once he reached the stream, he began searching the nearby trees for moss. Using his claws, he tore a good-sized clump off a nearby tree. He held it into the stream until it was sopping wet. With it gently held in his mouth so as to not waste any water, he began to head back to the group. When he arrived, he placed the moss near Briarstarโs mouth. Shock filled him as he saw the first kit. Already, a new life had entered the clan. |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 18, 2024 10:52:01 GMT -5
Buckpaw ยป
StarClan, how he wished Oakstreak were here right now! Where had his mentor even gone, and why had he left the camp only moments before disaster struck? The old tom had been so adamant that if something were to happen to come and get him, yet Oakstreak had been nowhere to be found. Perhaps something important had come up, but if something so important had happened, why didnโt Oakstreak feel the need to let Buckpaw know he would be leaving? Reflecting back on it, Buckpaw recalled Paintedmask heading toward the medicine cat den while he had left it, but even if Oakstreak had gone out of camp with Paintedmask, wouldnโt he have told Buckpaw?
The cream tabby lashed his tail, feeling frustrated. It wasnโt a common emotion he experienced, and it still wasnโt anything negative toward his mentor or even Paintedmask. If anything, Buckpaw was more frustrated with himself. Had he been more prepared, had he brought just a few extra herbs, then perhaps everything would be okay. Perhaps he could figure out how to handle all this.
He looked down at his paws, stained with Briarstarโs blood. Her life was literally in his paws. The lives of hers kits were literally in his paws.
He looked at the wound against her stomach, how the bleeding had stopped and it was layered in poultice and cobweb.
The wound had been dealt with. Now he had to deal with the kits.
Buckpaw had never helped deliver kits before. This was something entirely new for the young tabby. He had heard stories - mostly horror stories - of kittens that had happened in the past, how so many lives had been lost in the act of bringing forth new life. He had heard the stories of Goldtalon - two kits leaving for the stars alongside their mother, Nightmask - her daughter ascending to StarClan mere moments before the queen had followed, and Goldenchill - her daughters never seeing life and her son only experiencing living for a moon. So much tragedy, so much heartache. Kitting was a natural process, something cats had been doing since the dawn of time. It was instinctual, something a queen could typically do all on her own, but here in ConiferClanโฆ It was hard to not think that a curse had been placed upon them.
Frustration and anxiety ruffled through his pelt, a mix of emotions the young tom was not fond of. He kneaded the ground, watching as Briarstar shuddered with pain.
Raspberry, borageโฆ He knew the herbs needed. Oakstreak had drilled them into his head while Goldenchillโs worry over Silverfern had the golden queen numbingly reciting herbs more often than not. Unfortunately he didnโt think to bring those herbs along with him. Unfortunately he had no idea that kits were even part of the equation. His ears flattened against his head. Buckpaw understood a cat had every right to keep their secrets, and Briarstar was an elusive feline, but it would have been nice to know in advance that kits were in danger as well.
A kit. Tiny and still wet, fumbled about on the leaf litter. Its sharp inhales and loud mewls were enough to let Buckpaw know that the small creature was okay. Briarstar already leaning toward the kit, all Buckpaw had to mew was, โStart licking it, it needs to be dried.โ He at least knew that much about kitting, and until it was time for the next kit to make its arrival, Briarstar would be able to care for it - it was her kit after all, and what better instinct for mothering than a new mother?
Time seemed to slow and speed up all at once. One second there was one kit. An hour could have gone by with only one kit, or perhaps it had only been a few minutes, but no matter how long or how short the whole ordeal was, Buckpaw remained steady and intent on his job. Another kit arrived just as the first had dried enough to be placed against Briarstarโs flanks - it wasnโt the best place to be right now given the leaderโs wound, but not only was he against not allowing the kit to suckle, but he was sure Briarstar wouldnโt allow it, either.
A third kit was soon born, Buckpaw bringing the small creature toward Briarstarโs muzzle with a gentle movement, the first two now nestled against her flank.
Before long, a fourth had arrived, yet this time, as he scruffed the tiny creature to bring it toward Briarstar, the medicine cat apprentice noticed just how exhausted the leader had become. A glossy gaze and feeble movements, it was clear that the leader had no more energy to spare. His jaws tightened, worry creasing his visage. He hoped this was the last kit for Briarstar had not the energy to give life to another. He also hoped that the leaderโs lethargy was due in part to both bleeding out and kitting all in the same day. Both were high energy tasks that required an insane amount of concentration. He couldnโt even begin to wrap his head around that he had just witnessed Briarstar accomplish two feats.
He took a step back, looking down at mother and kits.
A silent prayer went up to the stars. All Buckpaw could do now was wait. It was up to StarClan and Briarstar now.
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Post by Sand on Jun 18, 2024 10:56:08 GMT -5
Oriolehop the brook โ accompanied by: Auburnpaw & Burntears he/him - warrior
 Oriolehop stared at the brook as the current moved ever so slowly yet there was no sign of any fish. He frowned, puzzled by the fact that there was no fish. Not a single fish was in the brook. Had they scared all the prey away with their cheering? He looked up as soon as Auburnpaw spoke. The apprentice was right which only left him wondering more about the fish.
"I haven't seen a single fish in ages," he responded to the two she-cats. "Maybe we should move further down the brook? There might be more fish downstream."
He held his tongue momentarily as he waited for a response. Oriolehop knew well that fishing took a lot of patience, but if they wanted their competition to continue, then looking for more prey downstream couldn't hurt.
[ tags: ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
Cypressmask camp โ accompanied by: Stormysage he/him - warrior
 At the sound of Stormysage's suggestion, Cypressmask's ears pricked up. The Scorched Plains were almost lifeless with little prey alive unless they were scavenging around. He glanced at his littermate with wide green eyes. But Cypressmask couldn't and wouldn't turn his sister down. Scavenging prey would be easy to catch, right? The mice and voles would be desperate enough to give up and fall right into their paws.
After thinking for a few moments, he gave a sharp nod. "It's a good suggestion, let's head there," the grey and white tabby tom meowed. A playful smile appeared on Cypressmask's maw. "Wait. How about this-- first one to the camp entrance has to carry back all the prey we catch?"
[ tags: ๐๐๐๐๐ข | image credit: pinterest ]
Cariboupaw forest, not far from camp โ accompanied by: Sorrelsnap she/her - apprentice
 Cariboupaw had yet to appreciate the scent of the mountains and its ever growing trees. She was too focused on showing Sorrelsnap that she was the best hunter ever and that included her denmates. She hadn't noticed the elder's struggles with his hip and joints as they finally came to a stop. Cariboupaw felt mixed opinions on Sorrelsnap's decision, but part of her needed to show the old man what she was made of. She was young, reckless, and quick-witted. Hopefully these traits would give her an edge when it came to hunting. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with Beewhisker anyways.
As Sorrelsnap sat down near a clove currant bush, Cariboupaw was busy stretching her legs and sniffing the air for prey. The pointed she-cat paused when the ginger and white tabby made a snarky remark, sounding as if he were a thousand moons old. True warriors, hm? I am a true warrior! she thought to herself, grinning at the elder like a fool.
"You bet I can catch some prey here! Just you wait, Sorrelsnapโ maybe I'll catch something for you," the apprentice bragged, albeit surprised that she had offered the tom a piece of prey. If she could get the ginger and white tabby elder in her good graces, maybe Cariboupaw stood a chance with him.
Without any distractions, the overconfident apprentice began sniffing the air once more. She'd hate to admit it, but Sorrelsnap was kinda rightโ prey was scarce this close to camp. She wasn't going to settle for a measly mouse. She wanted something bigger and possibly plump if that was feasible in leaf-fall. Suddenly, a distant scent of a mouse caught Cariboupaw off guard. Her round blue eyes widened in surprise and her paws itched at the thought of finding the mouse.
She stalked off towards a tall fern bush before crouching down to inspect the scent. She made sure her fluffy tail wasn't touching the forest floor. Cariboupaw held back a squeal of excitement, knowing that one wrong move could scare the mouse. She didn't want to make a single mistake with Sorrelsnap here either and she had to prove herself.
Refocusing on her prey, Cariboupaw finally spotted the mouseโ it was small, but it was gnawing upon a blade of grass. However, it was behind the fern bush which she had poked her head into. If she moved now, the mouse would flee. You mousebrain! You'll be stuck like this until the mouse moves on its own, she reprimanded herself. For now, the pointed apprentice was stuck in a bind. She just needed to find a quiet and quick way out of it.
[ tags: Feathertalon | image credit: pinterest ]
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 18, 2024 11:33:09 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
SNOWPAW, BUCKPAW, EAGLESWOOP & BEAVERPELT
WHISPER WOODS Only one, perfect little tom had been born, and Briarstar was already exhausted. But from the subtle movements still within her, the molly knows she is far from done.
What do we do now? Briarstar took more than a modicum of offence at her mate's ill-placed use of the word we. Given this very much felt like a me situation.
"By the Stars I'd hoped that would be all the work done!" She hisses, pain sharpening her tolerance for idiocy into a rather narrow ice, even her mate not saved from the heat of her ire. Eagleswoop would no doubt forgive her, given what she was currently battling in order to make him a father.
The work was exhausting, but failure here would be the death of her and her kits both, and the leader brings everything she has to the field. Fighting with everything she has, through the pain that sweeps through her like a venom, deep-set. She and Buckpaw worked like a well oiled machine, working until each kitten was breathing and warm, bringing each to settle against her still labouring body, once, twice and a third time. Licking and nuzzling each as they were presented to her, covering each new life in their mother's scent, allowing imprinting to happen from all but the first breath.
Until finally, by the Stars, finally, her efforts are done.
It can't be said that the pain leaves, and chances were it was forgotten in the face of four little kits mewling hungrily for her. "They're tiny," she murmurs, nudging each little bundle as though to quite make sure they weren't some blood-loss induced hallucination. "Are they okay?"
Before Buckpaw could respond, one of the little ones lets out a furious mewl as a bitter wind wraps around their bodies. On instinct Briarstar lets her body wrap around the kits, curling tightly around four little bundles of fur. The warmth of her, the scent of her milk, is all that the kittens need to quell their worries, their fears of this new world. Tiny bodies wriggle with an astounding amount of strength for something smaller than most of the mice Briarstar had caught in her lifetime. And using a motherly instinct she hadn't known she possessed, Briarstar helps guide the four to her wounded belly. Disbelief painting her tone a melody of motherly sweetness.
She'd claw the ears off of anyone who suggested it, but even the coldest of hearts would have smiled at the weak expression on Briarstar's face as she lowers her head to nuzzle at each of the four kittens she had just fought tooth and nail for. Scrutinising each tiny body quite gently, nuzzling the newborns until they smelled quite thoroughly of their mother and her milk. A challenge to anything that might think to steal them from her. "Hello, my little dears," her voice is a quiet whisper, even StarClan would have to strain to hear the words.
Only when four kits lie beside her, wet pelts made fluffy with the efforts of her tongue and furious mewls turned into contented little huffs as they drink, does Briarstar allow her head to rest on her paws. For moments, the older queen's only movements are the twitch of her ears as she listens to the kits sweet suckling sounds, and her eyes slowly slip shut.
More peaceful than any cat had likely ever seen the brute of a shecat, but it wasn't sleep that beckoned her.
Her work was done, and there was a price to pay for delivering four healthy kits. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 18, 2024 12:00:59 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Dew Sand--------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears glanced up at her friend upon hearing his suggestion. She seemed pleased that he had that idea, knowing she would have kept waiting if she was on her own. "That sounds good to me." Burntears looked at Auburnpaw as she rose to a stand and stretched out her legs a bit. Although she was technically leading the patrol, she still felt Auburnpaw's voice was important. This desire to gain herapproval had doubled when she had seen how excited the young cat was to catch a fish. It just now dawned on her that the young cat's mentor had been nowhere to be found when she had approached her, and a rare prickle of frustration had flared in her mind. Who could forget an apprentice as cute and eager as Auburnpaw?
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; ladylantsov whispering [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowpaw had not dared return until he was certain that no further danger could come to his leader. He had circled the surrounding area tirelessly, not daring to risk missing a single scent. It didn't take long for him to notice that Eagleswoop was no longer checking with him. Any other day he might have felt disappointed by this, but he knew just how deeply he cared for his mate. Now that she was injured and kits were arriving, it was understandable that he wanted to be there. Snowpaw would continue circling until he was told to stop, his mouth open to ensure he didn't waste a single step. He could take a nice long nap to rest his aching paws later, this was a moment he needed not falter. A small selfish part of his brain thought that if he did well here, it could even be the ticket to becoming a warrior early.--------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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Post by aquatail on Jun 18, 2024 16:20:01 GMT -5
OMG I love the dramatic ending ladylantsov! ... Have you been practising lol
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Dew
โ avid book reader โ
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Post by Dew on Jun 18, 2024 19:05:31 GMT -5
Jumptalon
Jumptalon got to his paws again and stood beside Goldenchill. She was tall, much bigger then he was. Jumptalon was full-grown now and he barely reached her shoulders, but he was a small cat. He could almost see Goldenchill when she was a warrior, probably a skilled hunter, a formidable opponent. Until she lost the one battle she had no control over. It's not your fault, Jumptalon wanted to say, to scream until she understood. Would she ever understand? Does she blame herself? Or is she just grieving for kits she never got to know?
The pair headed toward the fresh-kill pile, and Goldenchill inspected it, grabbing a staring and dropping it at his paws. She wants me to go out and bury it. Of course she wouldn't go outside camp. Goldenchill hadn't left camp during his lifetime, and Jumptalon guessed she hadn't left camp since her kits had died. "Of course, I'll be right back," he said, picking up the starling.
As he exited camp, the mountain air filling his lungs, he thought. Thought about Goldenchill mosty, but also his clan. Mostly Goldenchill. Jumptalon didn't know what he would do if his kits died like that, but he guessed that he would be something like that. She needs a little happy in her life. Something of her own to care for. Jumptalon was now at a good spot to bury the starling, and he did. Then he returned to camp. "Anything else that needs to be done?" Jumptalon asked, once he had re-joined the molly.
Auburnpaw 
Why are there no fish! Patience was still a virtue Auburnpaw was working on. Well, Greyhawk was trying to get her to work on it anyways, but her mentor wasn't here so did that mean she had to be patient? She didn't want to be. But she had to be. That was the entire purpose of fishing, after all. Why can't we just hunt in the wooodsss.
"Oh! Yes we can hunt downstream," She said. As the trio headed downstream, Auburnpaw stayed behind Burntears. She would like to charge ahead, but she also didn't want to slip and fall into the brook. That would be embarrassing.
"Y'know I bet that Greyhawk is doing something really important and that's why he isn't here," Auburnpaw said, to anyone that was listening. "But it doesn't matter! He doesn't need to be with me every day, right?" |
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Post by whispering on Jun 20, 2024 12:29:19 GMT -5
The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Silentshadow knew what she was asking of her sister. It was the least she could offer, but she wanted her to feel special. Like she was needed again. If Rattlepaw would not be a warrior, she could try to be helpful elsewhere. Keeping an ear out for any clues or suspicious activity was the least she could do. Would her sister even tell her if she did come across anything? It was hard to know. It was hard to read her sister at all these days. Only time would tell if her sister would come through.
"Good." Silentshadow's icy mew replied, giving a curt nod of approval. The black-furred molly relaxed, letting her guard back down, her gaze softening and her fur lay flat.
There seemed to be some uncertainty in her sister's face. Of course, she would be nervous; this could be a risky, dangerous even, secret to reveal. Some secrets deserved to stay buried. But Flinthawk would not let her rest until she avenged his death. And if it meant getting rid of the pestering flea that was her father, Silentshadow would get it done.
"Now come on." She continued forward to remove the dirt and leaf litter they'd kicked up over her prey pile. A satisfied purr rippled within her at the sight; she'd done quite a fine job. A mouse dangling from its tail, she turned back to her sister when she remembered the squeamish look on Rattlepaw's face. "And stop looking at it like that, it's food. Honestly, Rattlepaw, you have to get over yourself eventually. Father is dead and we're bringing him justice, that should be more than enough to get you back on your paws."
"What do you plan on surviving off of berries and leaves? Cats need meat to survive. You're better off going down the mountain and looking for twolegs if that's your goal." Sometimes, she really was like her mother no matter how hard she denied it. But was it really wrong if she had a mouse-brained sister?
โฐโฐโฐ Owlpaw
with gingerflame Dew
Every cat was bound to make mistakes. Even the most seasoned warriors did not catch every mouse. And there would be no exception for Owlpaw. That's why his frustration melted away so easily. Leaf-bare wasn't here yet, the clan wasn't starving. And he had all day to make up for his mistake. Surely he'd be bountiful eventually. What was the point in dwelling over one mouse? Only a stubborn cat could do such a thing. A cat like Cariboupaw. Unlike his sister, Owlpaw had some humility.
"I should have been paying attention to where I was putting my paws," The young tom began as he reflected on his hunt, "Buut I didn't, and I kicked that pebble." His ears flicked toward the pebble.
Hunting in the rocky terrain had been just as hard as he'd imagined. In the forest, he was used to sliding his paws among the fallen leaves and easily stepping across twigs and branches. But there was no fallen debris here. Except for pebbles and stones. I must remember for next time.
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Post by whispering on Jun 20, 2024 14:00:27 GMT -5
The three worked together. Eagleswoop sprang to action once Buckpaw directed him how to help: Start licking it, it needs to be dried. The first kit, still mewling in protest, had been dried and laid in the crest of its mother's belly. The big tabby did as instructed for a second, third, and then a fourth time. Nipping the sap and cleaning his kits with strong, powerful licks, shocked by how tiny they were. No bigger than a shrew that he could gobble down in one bite.
No bigger than his already big paw.
He was silenced by awe, amazed at how strong Briarstar was. How Watching her drain herself of all her energy bearing their children. How powerful mollies were, the bringers of new life. His heart felt warm with pride as he looked down at his litter of four. Two were identical to him, one an unusual spot, and the fourth a tiny she-kit, black-furred like her mother. And all so tiny. He couldn't get over how small. To think I'd thought one of your names would be Tigerkit!
He nuzzled into his mate's neck, a loving purr rumbling in his chest. "You did it, Briarstar," His tongue swiped across her head, which lolled feebly at his touch, "You-" A cat's head should move so freely over a meer lick. It was unnatural. Something was wrong again. "Briarstar." Voice barely a whisper, he lay his ear against her side. His heart plummeted when he was met with silence. "Buckpaw! She- what's wrong with her?" Eagleswoop was on his paws, his fur bristling as panic crawled up his skin, accompanied by the familiar fire of anger.
Briarstar was losing a life.
He knew a dead body when he saw it. Memories of waking up next to cold, tabby fur flashed through his mind. And grief clawed at his heart. He was trapped in this never-ending cycle of losing the she-cats he loved the most at the cause of giving birth. It was supposed to be different this time!
Briarstar had eight more lives to spare. Goldtalon had only one. The grief he'd learned to deal with over the years suddenly consumed him. Why did StarClan get to pick and choose who lived and who died? Why couldn't they have given his mother nine chances? Surely she was deserving of it? Briarstar would soon return, healthier than ever, and continue to raise their kits. Goldtalon would never have that luxury. She would never see her eagle soar. She would never sit alongside Sorrelsnap and Jumpingjay as he received his warrior name. The once fearsome molly would only watch from the stars.
And that had to be enough. Eagleswoop had learned to make that enough, being okay with never seeing her again. All because of him. Because he was born.
Now he had to bear the burden of losing his mate. Because of him again.
Solemn and depressed, Eagleswoop dipped his head and waited for his leader to return. Deaf to the mewls of protest coming from his children as they, too, awaited the return of her warmth. Unlike Eagleswoop, their mother would return from her sleep.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 20, 2024 16:28:09 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap ยป
Earlier in camp Sorrelsnap had been unable to recall the warrior who held the title of Cariboupawโs mentor. It didnโt surprise him that he couldnโt remember, not because of his elderly age, but more so due to how there had been an uptick in apprentices the last few moons. Keeping up with them all had become a chore that Sorrelsnap was not fond of, so he had allowed himself the ease of no longer remembering who was mentoring who. The only pairs he could recall easily were that of Snowpaw and Eagleswoop along with Rattlepaw and Briarstar. All the stars in the sky would have to burn out and die before Sorrelsnap forgot the young cats under his sonโs careful instructions. As proud as any father would be, the ginger and white tabby had congratulated Eagleswoop the day it had been announced that he was to train an apprentice of his own. Any cat trained by Eagleswoop would surely become a valuable asset to the Clan one day.
It was also his sonโs mateโs apprentice that the elder recalled. Not that he had taken a particular interest in the life of Briarstar - he had every right to given that his son was her mate and he wanted only the best for Eagleswoop - but the leaderโs apprentice was rather peculiar. Old enough to be a warrior and with her littermates already being warriors, Rattlepaw should no longer be a โpaw. Not only that but she had been trained by Cedarstar originally. The former leader had taken an interest in the litter of his deputy, and before his health had declined, Sorrelsnap had thought of the old leader as a competent mentor. Surely any cat trained under him would achieve the rank of warrior swiftly and easily, but Cedarstar was now among the stars and his apprentice was still an apprentice. Briarstar had picked up the young mollyโs training, Rattlepaw now being trained by two leaders rather than one. Yet she was still an apprentice. Still a โpaw. Sorrelsnap couldnโt even remember the last time he had seen the young molly tending to apprentice duties of any kinds. He had half a mind to bring this up to Eagleswoop - was Briarstar simply a bad mentor or was there something wrong with Rattlepaw herself? He believed the second option more than the first, but he had to admit that not every warrior was cut out to be a mentor.
All that aside, it was now that he was among the fresh air and away from the hustling of camp that he could actually remember Cariboupawโs mentor. The memory of who it was had him curling his whiskers in displeasure, a scowl twisting his visage.
Cariboupawโs mentor was Beewhisker, a young warrior barely out of the apprentice den himself. He could now understand the mollyโs eagerness to get outside and prove that she could hunt for her Clan. He could understand why she had been left stranded in camp. What he couldnโt understand was why Briarstar had thought of giving a cat like Beewhisker an apprentice. Perhaps to see if responsibility would kick him into gear? A noble effort, Sorrelsnap supposed, but clearly not working. Was Beewhisker even aware that he was a mentor?
The youth these days really had some gall that Sorrelsnap rolled his eyes at. If he tried getting away with not tending to his apprentice back in the day heโd be without an ear or two.
Now thinking on it a little harder, he had no problem with keeping an eye on the young cat while she practiced her hunting.
That was just something he didnโt plan on telling her.
From where he sat Sorrelsnap could still make out the creamy brown pelt of Cariboupaw. He stretched himself a little upward, keeping an eye on the apprentice. It looked as if she had spotted something, but what it was the elder could not tell. The tom settled on remaining observant, giving Cariboupaw the space and time she needed to prove herself a proficient hunter.
Goldenchill ยป
Never once had a cat scorned her or eyed her oddly for refusing to leave camp. In a silent understanding the entire Clan had allowed the large molly to grieve the loss of her kits in her own strange way, not once pushing her to step paw outside, out there where the mountains reached the sky. Sure, there had been plenty of times in which Greyhawk had softly implied that he missed her presence at his side, that he longed for the days they used to leave camp together, fur brushing and spirits high. Never once had he pushed her though. Never once had he demanded she leave the comforts of the nursery and accompany him through the shadow-flickering forest. Goldenchill missed those days where she had walked alongside her mate as the fresh scents of pine and cedar rolled over her tongue. She missed the breathtaking sunrises and mystifying sunsets that could only be witnessed beyond the camp walls, but there was nothing that could bring her to go out there. Nothing that would move her paws so much as an inch outside.
The aging queen pressed her nose softly against Jumptalonโs shoulder. โThank you,โ she breathed softly just as the rosetted tomcat grabbed the starling and headed out of camp with the old prey. The warrior probably didnโt think he was doing much, but in Goldenchillโs eyes he was doing everything.
Left on her own for the time being, the green-eyed molly nosed around the fresh-kill pile. It was meager, not much left on it, but the few pieces left were notably fresher than the starling had been. A squirrel that lay to the left still carried the scents of outside on its fur, a warriorโs catch made just this morning. Prey was still running, even if the pickings were slim.
Within just a few minutes did Jumptalon return. Goldenchillโs ears perked forward and her once thoughtful expression brightened into warm greeting. Hearing that he was still eager to help, Goldenchill purred happily. โIf youโre still interested in helping I planned on checking the apprenticesโ den. Iโve noticed in all my moons that mentors have their apprentices clean the eldersโ den and nursery the most. The โpawsโ den tends to get skipped over.โ On occasion there was the apprentice or group of apprentices that would put in the overtime to clean out their nesting quarters, but as caring and thoughtful as Goldenchill was, she always made sure to check every now and then to see if the apprentices needed their bedding switched out for fresh moss.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 20, 2024 16:32:31 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Her sister sounded so much like their mother right now, yet there was so much difference between the two as well. Silentshadowโs words were soft and simply stating facts. Even her claws remained unsheathed and her fangs never once glinted ominously in the flickering sunlight. Wisteriasnow would have been mocking and harsh, words grating down Rattlepawโs spine as dangerous as wolfโs fangs. Wiateriasnow would have unsheathed her claws and tore them across Rattlepawโs flanks, soon followed by a harmful nip to the ear. Her mother would have scorned her for all she was worth, scowled at her and admonished her for such behavior. More than just Rattlepawโs soul would have been in pain had Silentshadow truly been Wisteriasnow.
Blue eyes lowered as her ear-tips burned, crackling with shame, smoking with ignominy. Rattlepaw was well aware that cats needed meat to survive, that her and her Clanmates relied on the flesh and blood of other creatures to keep them going. The thought of placing a berry of any kind within her mouth and sinking her teeth into the leafy flesh was enough to send disgust rippling through her pale pelt. How birds and squirrels and mice lived on such vegetation was beyond the young molly. Her nose scrunched at the thought once more, unease writhing amongst the hunger that clawed her stomach.
She glanced at the mouse that remained on the ground. Unmoving, lifeless. As a cat she was meant to feast upon the mouseโs flesh. A mouse was meant to nibble the skin of berries.
A twisting and coiling of guts rolled underneath her flanks. Hunger pawed at her stomach like tiny unborn kits would. The smell of mouse was tantalizing. Mouth watering. The corpse beckoned more and more the longer she stared at it.
Rattlepaw leaned down, jaws parting open, tongue grazing the rodentโs still warm fur. Famished saliva dampened the corpse as she placed it inside her mouth.
A cat was a natural hunter. A carnivore. They had evolved to be stealthy killers, some cats more skilled than others. Flinthawk had always told her she was an exceptional hunter. An exceptional killer.
Blood still hot trickled into her mouth from the mouseโs fatal wound. It was a painful reminder that the mouse was dead, killed, murdered.
Torn gray fur and days old blood stained her mind. Flinthawkโs decaying corpse lay before her eyes, gaze wide and shocked.
A cat so keen on killing had been murdered. A monster lurked among the shadows.
Her father had always told Rattlepaw that she would grow to be just like him. Sheโd perhaps be deputy one day, leader of her Clan the next.
Or perhaps sheโd end up a torn corpse in the middle of camp, her killer unknown and on the loose.
Disgusted mania crashed over her. Rattlepaw flinched backward, jaws parting as she allowed the mouse to fall unceremoniously back onto the ground. She heaved with the effort of breathing, mind frantic as the rodentโs blood lingered upon her tongue, snaking into the crevices between her molars and canines. Flailing she toppled over, slamming onto her hindquarters, spitting and hissing as she desperately attempted to free her mouth of the blood inside.
Her mind screamed in agony, wanting the blood gone. Her stomach cried in torture, yearning for the blood to grow thicker.
Rattlepaw heaved, breathing panicked. Her claws unsheathed, striking the soil below.
A failure. Pathetic. Useless.
The pointed molly struggled upon the ground, caught in a vicious cycle of desire and disgust. No matter how badly she wanted to control herself, no matter how much she yearned to just be calm, panic had gripped her unrelenting. The invisible predator of fear held her tightly within its jaws.
Buckpaw ยป
The kits were safe, warm, and vocal. They were tiny, tinier than Buckpaw could have even imagined, but they were healthy. All four had every limb, both ears, and stubby tails that would eventually grow longer and fluffier. They mewed for milk while shoveling up against one another, drawing in the body heat from each other.
Buckpaw stared at them a moment longer, simply in awe. Had he and Snowpaw been that little at some point? Had they been that rowdy moments after birth, pushing and kneading for the milk of their mother? How amazed by two tiny kits had Honeyskip and Oriolehop been when they met their sons for the very first time?
Yet the time for amazement and awe had to be cut short. Life was a miraculous thing, but with life always came death, a shadow that followed the light. Death always collected eventually, but there were times when it collected much too early, times when it collected the life of a warrior more than once.
Goldenchillโs litter, Nightmask, Goldtalonโฆ
Buckpaw captured a glance of Eagleswoop. The large tom sat crouched, heavy, burdened. It was no secret to the Clan that the queen who birthed him only managed to spend a few short moons alongside him. The hurt that was surely in his heart, the scar that must have reopened in this moment, had to be unbearable. Yet the solid warrior remained indomitable. Unflinching. Grief chilled his face, yet he stay where he sat, not a single word falling from tongue, not a single croon of sorrow sliding from his throat.
So many cats lost to the act of bringing forth life. A lump formed in Buckpawโs throat, eyes slowly pulling away from Eagleswoop and towards his brother. How lucky he and Snowpaw were to know the love of both parents.
The death of a leader was not new to any of the cats sitting around Briarstar and her newborn litter. Cedarstarโs travel to the stars was fresh in Buckpawโs mind, how the tabby tom had been ravished by sickness for moons and moons until his body finally gave up. In life he had appeared so frail and miserable, yet in death he had looked at peace, as if he were merely sleeping. Briarstar looked eerily the same, how just moments ago pain had rippled through her from both labor and hawkโs talons. Now she looked at ease, relaxed and sleeping away all the anguish that had tormented her. But unlike Cedarstar, unlike Goldtalon and Nightmask, she had many more lives to go. This was only her first to be lost, Buckpawโs spiritual connection with the stars allowing him to feel the lives that remained within his leader. It weighed heavy on him, yet it was so soft at the same time. A feeling he couldnโt quite explain but he knew exactly what it meant.
There was nothing the gathered cats could do at this point. Briarstar was among the ranks of StarClan, perhaps sharing tongues with old friends of the past. By the power of the ancestors and the magic that was nine lives, the tabby queenโs wounded flank began to heal, leaving only a newly formed scar that told the story of what had transpired. Buckpaw never wanted a cat to die, even a leader with nine lives, but he was grateful that Briarstar no longer had to deal with nursing kits with a severe open wound.
He took a step back, preparing himself for when the leader awoke. โEagleswoop, can you carry two of the kits? Once Briarstar returns Iโm sure sheโll want the other two herself. We need to return to camp.โ The sounds of battle and the scent of blood was more than enough to attract any nearby predators. The sooner they returned to camp, the better.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 20, 2024 17:19:47 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
SNOWPAW, BUCKPAW, EAGLESWOOP & BEAVERPELTย ย ย ย ย ย
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย WHISPER WOODSย ย Darkness, heavier than any night Briarstar had ever faced, a thing that clung to her pelt, her lungs. and she was falling, down, down, down.
Until she hit earth with a thud, sheโs aware of pain, but now itโs a distant ache. It takes her rattled mind a moment to remember what had happened, what it was.
The kits! her eyes slam open.
But the sight of her newborns, curled up into tight balls at her belly, isnโt what greets her. The last sight sheโd seen alive just heartbeats before wasnโt what she found now. Instead it was an empty, open plain. Stars floated on the air, glittering tiny speckles of light, like dust before her nose.
Her jaws part, taking in the scents of this strange new world, drinking them in, searching for a smell that was already imprinted onto the edges of her very soul. Milky and new. If her kits had followed her here, and she was expected to leave them while she returned to the world of the living - she would tear to shreds any Star-pelted warrior that tried to stop her.
She would carry each of them home herself if thatโs the cost the Stars demanded of her.
But there is no scent of her children here, three sons and a daughter. The hints of milk linger on the air, like this place had once known kittens. But they werenโt her own, sheโd known her children mere seconds before leaving them. Yet already she knew just who and what they were, in the depths of her.
But it was still kittens she smelled.
And she was half tempted to find them. Would it be Goldenchillโs litter that she found, gone before theyโd even had the chance. Maybe Burntearโs apprentice aged son, whose life had been cut so tragically short. Perhaps still her own brothers, whoโd reached the stars before sheโd even left her mother - who then too followed them. Or so many more of the stories sheโd known.
What did it say of her Clan that even their Stars smelled like lost and young life?
How many lives might she have given to bring even a handful of the children lost back to her ranks. All nine lives, several times over, to lose the grief that ran rampant in her Clan as fiercely as any wildfire. The ashes barely cleared before new blazes took hold again.
Briarstar had found her paws, half forgetting there was a world waiting for her to return. Sheโd turned for the first of the scents, intent on following it to its end - if only for the sake of her own curiosity.
When a voice sheโd not heard in moons, but new as well as the course of the babbling brook, pierces the still, darker than night air of this strange place.
โWhy hello again,โ Flinthawk.
The same Tom, grey as a storm cloud, as cruel as lightning, peels from thin air towards her. Not a star to his pelt, yet a blaze in his eyes as fierce as any fire.
โYou couldnโt even carry a litter to the end, sweet young Briarstar, yet Cedarstar believed you were a worthy successor to me,โ the dead and buried deputy seethes head shaving with disbelief. Hot stinking breath a tangible thing against her own dark fur. โIโm surprised none of the little brats followed you. Your sweet, foolish Stars know more deserving kittens have joined their ranks than your treacherous brood.โ
The threat reverberated through her bones like the rush of her own blood. Claws dig down into cold, star besotted earth. The molly growls, low and long. โI killed you once, Flinthawk, donโt be mistaken thinking I wonโt do it as many times as I need to.โ
Flinthawkโs cackle seems to shake the very earth beneath them.
โSweet young Briarstar, sadly there are plans for you yet. And unfortunately itโs not me that will be carrying out the quite deserved sentence,โ dark eyes turn unseeing for only a heartbeat. โBut I told you once, my kits will take their revenge from you, they will paint your camp with my justice. With your blood as well as the blood of your kin, just you wait.โ
His grin would haunt her nightmares for moons to come.
Something snaps and the molly lunges, exhaustion and pain distant memories again. But her claws meet open air.
And she snaps awake, panting for air and snarling.
Briarstar lunges to her paws, healed. Whirling around as though to face an enemy, but gone is the open stretches of star besotted plains.
Replaced by her startled looking clan mates.
And four newborn kittens, mewling their confusion. Crying out for her warmth.
Briarstar blinks, gathering herself. The blood still rushing in her ears, the scent of Flinthawk still on her tongue like it had been, what felt like only hours ago.
She calms herself and steps forward. Lowering her massive muzzle to lick at her little oneโs, reassuring herself all four are there, safe and crying out for her.
A tiny kitten nuzzles at her maw, fangless mouth gumming at Briarstarโs dark furred face, searching for her milk. They were okay.
Weโre going to be okay.
The stars would know her wrath before they ever knew her kits this smalll, this new.
She grabs her tiniest kit, a little Molly that was as dark as night. Her jaws are as gentle as a butterfly landing on a petal, eyes narrowed with concentration. The little one hangs limp in her jaw, entirely trusting of the dam whoโd fought with everything to birth her.
โWe need to get them back to camp.โ
Youโd sooner think Briarstar had been on a short vacation and had emails to return to, then you would think sheโd just lost her first life. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 20, 2024 21:47:39 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; Sand Dew--------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears lashed her tail as she thought over Auburnpaw's words. "He usually is really busy. I know he can't be there for you every day, but maybe you can ask him why he didn't take you out on his patrol?" She wished she could spend time with her little ones every day, but knew that clan life was rarely kind enough toallow her to spend every moment with her babies. "Besides, that fish you caught is sure to impress him!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; ladylantsov [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] whispering Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowpaw eventually tired of circiling the mostly quiet area around them, and returned to where his loved ones had been. By the time he had arrived, Briarstar was up on her feet, little kits in her mouth. He couldn't help but feel relieved. His leader had made it through, as far as he was aware. He took his stride alongside his littermate, eyes shining toward him with admiration. "You delivered kits all by yourself! If that doesn't get you your Medicine cat name, I don't know what will." He was desperate to break the tension that seemed to still hang around them all.
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Post by whispering on Jun 24, 2024 10:44:25 GMT -5
Time stretched on as Eagleswoop and Buckpaw sat in silence awaiting Briarstar to return from losing her life. The kits' protesting mewls are the only sounds between the two toms.
The powerful warrior wrapped his body around his mate, leaning over her flanks to sniff their kits as they squirmed helplessly. He gently nuzzled them closer to their mother when one strayed away too far. "It's okay, little warriors," He murmured, "Everything will be okay soon, you'll see." But his words were just as much reassurance to him as for his children. All leaders lost their lives eventually. And he was lucky enough that his mate had eight more to share. An undisguised blessing he couldn't appreciate more until now. How could he bear an outcome where Briarstar suffered the same fate as Goldtalon? His beloved caretaker. That was an outcome he did not want to think about.
Time ticked on painfully slow. The wind gently stirred the leaves, the trees long limbs brushing against each other. The anxious sound of Snowpaw's paws as he paced, securing the area. The mewls from the kits. And despite the noise, the silence was deafening.
"You can call me Goldie." A voice rang in his ears, a gentle smile on the tabby molly's tired face. "It'll be our thing. I'll pluck out their whiskers if anyone else calls me that name." Eaglekit squealed in delight at the mock growl that rumbled in his mother's throat, butting his head against her broad shoulder. "Okay, Goldie."
Oomph!
Suddenly, Briarstar jumped to her feet, knocking Eagleswoop under his chin. For a moment, he saw bewilderment in his mate's eyes. And fear. What did StarClan say to her? Was something wrong?
Rushing to join her, he opened his jaws to speak, but she'd already beat him. Anger made his fur bristle, watching their leader bark orders as if nothing had happened. But he kept his mouth shut. They would discuss it in private.
Nodding Buckpaw permission to take the last kit, he scooped up the smallest two toms in his wide jaws. They wriggled in his mouth, but he held firm, making sure not to prick their sensitive skin with his teeth. Briarstar had already set off toward camp. Eagleswoop assumed she was eager to be in the safety of her den, nursing their kits. But how would everyone react? What would their clanmates think seeing the surprise kits that so happened to belong to their clan leader? Tensions were already high between the cats who didn't believe Briarstar was a good leader.
The Clan already had so many secrets, starting with Flinthawk's death. Eagleswoop himself had been close with the ambitious tom. Briarstar had never cared for the gray cat. There's something about him, she'd said on a walk one day. Eagleswoop had been boasting about a great sparring session with the senior warrior. What? Flinthawk? He's great, what do you mean? But his words had done no convincing to the dark molly. I just don't trust him, okay? He'd kept his distance, not wanting to upset her any further. The deputy died not too long after. And Briarstar had changed ever since. She'd spent her moons as deputy as if her mind was elsewhere. But she always brushed him off when Eagleswoop voiced his concerns about her mental health. Then Cedarstar lost his last life. And tensions were higher than ever before. This was more than the cats being unsatisfied with a choice of deputy, but a choice of a leader.
Briarstar had done all she could to prove herself to their clanmates. It had been a surprise when she'd fallen pregnant. Perfect timing. But they would love their kits no matter what. It would just have to stay a secret. Eagleswoop would support her to the end of his time.
The patrol was silent the whole of the way, not that Eagleswoop could speak with the wriggling kits in his jaws. Their milky, newborn scent wafting up his nostrils. The tabby was more than relieved when the camp entrance came into view, squeezing through the tunnel entrance after Briarstar. He kept his head high as the emerged, his orange gaze achieving a challenging sparkle, daring any cat to say a thing about their unexpected new arrivals.
Iristuft paused from his grooming. Pale eyes narrowed to slits, watching the cats pad to the leader's den.
"Ohhh, kits," Tawnybrook's trilling mew sounded from where she'd exited from the nursery. A delighted gleam to her green eyes. "Where did you find kits?" Her expression clouded into confusion as the cats marched on to Briarstar's den.
"Whose kits?"
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 24, 2024 11:58:42 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
SNOWPAW, BUCKPAW, EAGLESWOOP & BEAVERPELT
WHISPER WOODS It was a credit to the molly, that for all her elusiveness, her protective nature, she didnโt flinch when her clanmates moved to pick her mewling kits up. Though her gaze tracks each movement, hawk-like, as her warriors move to lift the clanโs newest lives up, her trust wasnโt easily earned, it never had been. In the here and now, however, it wasnโt like she had a great deal of choice. But once each kit was up, off the leaf-fall hardened ground, squirming tiny passengers in the jaws of her clanmates, does the closest thing to relaxation settle in her bones.
Chances were she wouldnโt feel it again until these four were tucked and hidden away in the nest sheโd prepared so diligently - thatโs if she was lucky. From what sheโd heard from other mothers chances were it wouldnโt be until they had left the apprenticeโs den.
The trek back to camp would usually take a nominal amount of time, her legs know the paths like her blood knows her veins, something done backwards and in the middle of the night. But suddenly her home might as well have been on the other side of the mountains, and she had three legs tied together.
True the wound was already a distant memory, but the exhaustion of kitting and battle both wouldnโt be something she quickly shook off. It was, she supposed, StarClanโs punishment for her being an idiot - but she was made to pay the price for the energy exertion, but not the wounds, sheโd far prefer that.
and sheโd do the journey to come a dozen times over if it brought her younglings home and safe.
So the clanmates turn back for camp, Briarstar leading the way with her head held high.
Briarstar is aware, for she isnโt an idiot, of the subtle yet hostile undertones to her mateโs composure. She didnโt address it, hardly looked at the dark golden tabby except to check on the young toms dangling from his maw. It has been a long day, the emotions between the two parents are no doubt a rumbling storm that will no doubt break over them at some point.
But frankly her mateโs feelings were fairly low on the priority list right now, sheโd deal with whatever questions were lingering in his dark eyes later, swirling around his mind as clearly as water rushing across the ground. Heโd no doubt let her have it in the quiet when everything was calm again.
โSnowpaw, the hawk,โ she indicated, words muffled by the fluff of her little one. It might have been humorous - that she wouldnโt let the prey that had killed her go to waste, her blood lingered, shining in the dim sunlight on the creatureโs talons, as well as the space sheโd fought, kitted, and died upon. But the corpse would feed her clan.
Then they set off, limping and slow.
There is a moment of hesitation when the molly reaches the camp entrance after what felt like an eternity of travelling. What are the chances no one is in camp, or theyโve all spontaneously gone blind. Sheโd delivered four healthy kittens and come out of the experience mostly unscarred, she wasnโt sure how many more miracles StarClan would have to offer her this day. But the uncertainty lasts barely more than a heartbeat, so fleeting it would be hard to notice it was there in the first time.
Then her little molly began squirming again, the melody of her childrenโs mewls more audible, more understandable than any words of her clan sheโd ever heard. The little ones spoke to her with a language she knew in the depths of her soul.
Sheโd embarrass herself a million times and then a million more for them.
Briarstar shakes out her concerns, and steps through the campโs entrance. Head low, eyes narrow as she makes for her den. Somewhere in the back of her brain she recognises the feeling of eyes on her, the murmur of surprise her return ushers through the camp, like a fresh spring breeze.
The molly disappears into her den almost as quickly as sheโd appeared in camp, her clanmates trailing after her. She settles the tiny shekit into the dark green mosses of her nest, made plush with feathers and patches of her own shedded, dark fur. Briarstar ducks her nose down to muzzle the little girl gently, the young kitten quickly curling up. โWelcome home, my little one,โ she murmurs softly, but doesnโt sit still long enough for the warmth of the moment to settle too. Once Briarstar was sure this kitten was settled enough, she returns to the mouth of her den, forcing her concentration onto her clanmates and remaining newborns.
Doing everything in her power to ignore the heat of several, curious gazes fixed to her pelt. Boring holes as easily as any hawkโs talons.
She reappears from the shadows of her den a second time in perfect timing to hear the soft melody of Iristuftโs question. The leader swallows past a dry knot in her throat. โTheyโre mine.โ |
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Post by Sand on Jun 24, 2024 12:04:01 GMT -5
Oriolehop the brook โ accompanied by: Burntears & Auburnpaw he/him - warrior
Oriolehop had mixed opinions on Greyhawk's absence. It was bizarre that he hadn't taken his apprentice with him, but it was even stranger that Greyhawk hadn't come looking for her. It seemed like the rapport between the pair wasn't as strong as he thought. Yet she and Burntears clicked together perfectly. It made sense though; Auburnpaw was a great apprentice whose fishing skills were improving by the minute. It was too bad that Greyhawk was missing out on it.
He quickly buried his minnow, making sure that it was hidden from any predators. The orange and white tabby tom padded after his clanmates, listening to the conversation. "Whatever Greyhawk is doing doesn't excuse him for leaving you behind," Oriolehop blurted out before shutting his maw rapidly. "A mentor should always take their apprentice out. Burntears is right though, ask him where he was when you see him next. And show him your fish too! I'm sure he'll be proud."
[ tags: ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ & Dew | image credit: pexels ]
Cariboupaw coniferclan territory โ accompanied by: Sorrelsnap she/her - apprentice
Cariboupaw knew very well who her mentor was, but she wasn't too fond of him. She felt neglected by Beewhisker at times, almost as if he was constantly missing and she was left alone to learn things on her own. Cariboupaw didn't mind training alone, but loneliness was painful. It reminded her of Flickerpaw and Harespring too much. If Beewhisker was going to forget her every day, then she might as well join Owlpaw or Burntears. She would learn more that way than waiting for the flame point tom.
Maybe Sorrelsnap was an option now too. She knew Owlpaw had Gingerflame and Burntears was her mother after all. Surely the elder wouldn't mind being bothered by her every now and then? Cariboupaw wasn't so sure, but if she could tolerate himโฆ then any cat could! Right?
The mouse! the creamy brown pointed molly remembered, snapping out of her thoughts. She did her best to not make noise as she crawled to the right of the fern bush. Cariboupaw hoped that she could still see her target from here. Once in place, she poked her head up. The mouse hadn't detected her movement and she was finally close enough to kill the mouse.
She dropped into a hunter's crouch and gathered all of her weight into her haunches. Cariboupaw's blue eyes fixated on the mouse and soon enough, she leapt at it. Her paws landed squarely on top of the mouse who squeaked in fear at the apprentice. Her eyes widened, groping that she could silence the prey quickly. She leaned down and gave a quick bite to the mouse's neck, its squeaks disappearing.
"Sorrelsnap! Sorrelsnap!" Cariboupaw called out before picking up the measly mouse. It was small, but stillโ she had caught something! She knew she could do better, but prey wasn't common around here. Unless she was unlucky, the apprentice was concerned about her chances with prey. On the positive side, she at least had a mouse to brag about.
"I got a mouse, Sorrelsnap! I told you I'd catch something! How's that for being a great hunter?"
[ tags: Feathertalon | image credit: pinterest ]
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Post by Tealraven on Jun 24, 2024 17:44:57 GMT -5
FOGPAW interacting with snowpaw // in camp
Fogpaw slid out of the eldersโ den with a grimace, scuffing his paws through the grass to wipe off the excess mouse bile. He wrinkled his nose at the acidic smell. Surely there had to be a more sanitary way to remove ticks; he couldnโt imagine the elders enjoyed having mouse bile rubbed into their fur anymore than he enjoyed applying it. Maybe there was a plant that could do the job instead? Poisonous berries that could be crushed into a poultice? Buckpaw would know. Oh, he wished he knew more about herbs! Fogpaw thought that every apprentice warrior should receive minor medicinal training for emergency purposes. What if an accident happened during training and they couldnโt get back to the medicine den quickly enough? Oakstreak would never agree to that. Heโd probably insist that one apprentice was enough trouble already. Perhaps I could talk to Buckpaw about that, too, he mused. If anyone could convince the crusty old medicine cat it was the ever-cheerful apprentice.
As if his thoughts had summoned him, Buckpaw suddenly appeared at the entrance tunnel, looking more worn out than Fogpaw was accustomed to seeing. And โ Fogpaw blinked rapidly and squinted โ perhaps his eyes hadnโt yet adjusted to the light after being down in the eldersโ den โ was that a kit dangling by its scruff from Buckpawโs jaws? Briarstar came next, also carrying a kit, with Eagleswoop right behind her. He had kits in his mouth as well, and was glaring fiercely at anyone who dared catch his eye. They went straight to Briarstarโs den without a word or backwards glance. Fogpaw ducked his head and crouched, mind whirling, as the rest of the patrol filed in.
Those kits looked tiny โ they had to be only a few hours old, if that. Where did they come from? Did the patrol find them abandoned in the forest? What heartless mother would do such a thing on the cusp of leaf-bare? Fogpawโs thoughts fluttered restlessly around inside his head, bouncing off the walls and colliding with each other like a flock of birds startled into flight. Maybe it wasnโt by choice. Maybe the mother perished during childbirth and was dead when they found her. Or maybeโฆ He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at the leaderโs den. No, surely not. Briarstar was a quiet cat, one who preferred her privacy, but surely she wouldnโt lie to the whole Clan. Would she? Why take the kits into her den and not to the nursery for another queen to nurse?
โSnowpaw!โ Fogpaw bounded over to the other apprentice. He took a step back, green eyes wide, as the white tom struggled into camp with a hawk. โWhere did you go? How did you find those kits? What โ what โ what โโ the words cascaded past Fogpawโs lips, tumbling over each other in his excited bewilderment. He paused for breath and tried again, lowering his voice. โWhat happened?โ
โ โ โ โ โ
WOLFSTRIDE open to interaction // in camp
Wolfstride was washing herself, covering her chest in quick, impatient licks. Her tongue snagged annoyingly on her long, thick fur and she swallowed a frustrated hiss. She never liked staying still for long, not when she could be doing something more productive with her time. That time was wasted on grooming, but it was a necessary evil, and sheโd put it off for long enough. Best to get it over with so she could get back to work. If only sheโd been born with a more efficient shorthaired coat. She plucked a small twig out of her grey tabby fur with her sharp white teeth and tossed it aside.
Then, sudden silence dropped over the camp. Wolfstride looked up and froze. Briarstar had returned to campโฆ but that small, squirming bundle of fur clamped in her jaws wasnโt prey. She looked weary yet grimly determined and fiercely protective all at once. Eagleswoop appeared right behind her, also carrying two tiny newborns, and the pair made a beeline for the leaderโs den. Wolfstride didnโt think for a heartbeat that those kits belonged to anyone else; not with those expressions. She didnโt see nearly enough guilt on their faces.
Briarstar had been expecting? Why didnโt she tell anyone? Because her position is precarious enough as it is, Wolfstride answered herself. Now that sheโs a mother, sheโll have to split her time and attention between caring for her kits and leading the Clan. That isnโt fair to anyone; not her, not the kits, and certainly not the rest of us who depend on her. We canโt have a distracted leader. Wolfstride lashed her tail and thought uncomfortably of Paintedmask. Her intense yellow eyes scanned the camp for the irascible warrior. Was he here right now? What did he think of this? His feelings about Briarstar ascending to leader instead of him werenโt exactly a secret. He was ambitious, but she didnโt think heโd target a helpless litter of innocents. He might not be the only one who questions Briarstarโs leadership though. Those kits are going to be her weak spot. Fool. Wolfstride growled deep in her throat.
@ tag โ โ โ โ โ
ASPENSONG open to interaction // in camp
โWhoa!โ Aspensong said, choking on her squirrel. Or she tried to say, but her mouth was full, so it came out sounding more like โwhmmpf!โ After coughing and spluttering for a few seconds, she finally got the partially-chewed hunk of meat down, and then she leapt to her paws. All around her other cats were having similarly shocked reactions. She watched several warriors scurry away from the tunnel entrance as Briarstar, Eagleswoop, and Buckpaw trudged in with kits hanging from their jaws. Snowpaw and Beaverpelt brought up the rear.
Aww, how precious, thought Aspensong. Sheโd never seen such tiny little cats before. She immediately wanted to go over and wrap herself around them to keep them warm and safe. But even she wasnโt that reckless. One look at Eagleswoopโs face and she guessed sheโd rather throw herself off of Scoutโs Point before standing in his way. And as much as she adored kits, she didnโt trust herself around them; she felt too big and unwieldy to be allowed near such fragile, delicate little beings.
The patrol dispersed, and Briarstar and her mate left on a tide of whispers, tails vanishing into her den. Wait, what? โUm, am I hallucinating, or did Briarstar just take those kits into her den?โ She whispered loudly to the cat standing nearest to her. Those kits couldnโt be Briarstarโs, could they? Aspensong knew she wasnโt the most observant cat, but she wasnโt stupid โ queens close to giving birth were hard to miss, and she was pretty sure she'd have noticed if Briarstar had been pregnant. It couldnโt be her litter, then. Briarstar must have found them all alone in the forest and brought them back to camp! Sheโs such a good and compassionate leader! That was the only explanation Aspensong could think of, and it made the most sense. Something still wasnโt quite adding up in the back of her mind, though.
@ tag
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Post by ๐๐๐๐๐ข on Jun 24, 2024 18:46:21 GMT -5
 A mixture of relief and regret flooded Asterfrost when Paintedmask finally agreed to let her join him. She had only recently returned from a solo hunting party herself. She knew how scarce prey was becoming, and she struggled to even catch the squirrel she left at the top of the fresh-kill pile. Still, it was her stubbornness that didn't let Paintedmask go, so she had to see through the consequences of her actions.
"Right! You won't have to worry about me." The smaller warrior reassured him. Even with tired paws, Asterfrost was determined to catch some good prey with her hunting companion. Not to mention that Paintedmask was a more than capable hunter. Having that extra set of eyes would really be helpful.
Quick to try and catch up, Asterfrost trotted after the black and white tom, about to ask where he planned on taking them when she heard rustling from the entrance. Someone was entering the camp, so she moved aside to let them through first. Based off the scents, she could tell it was Eagleswoop, Briarstar, Buckpaw, Snowpaw, and Beaverpelt. Quite the crew of cats returning. With that many cast of characters there was no way they were returning from a hunting patrol. Once they all emerged, shock was clearly written across the painted brown mask of Asterfrost's face. Kits.
"How did- Where were- What's happening?" Asterfrost didn't know which question to ask first, they all started to tumble from her mouth all at once. The stench of blood was faint in the air, and the mewlings of the little ones could make her heart melt. Just where had these kits come from? Murmurs filled the camp clearing as the cats who were present all became aware of the kit-carrying procession filing in.
Asterfrost turned her head up to look at Paintedmask, wanting to gauge his reaction, maybe read his thoughts if she could, "You don't think...?" She whispered, unable to finish her sentence. They had to be Briarstar's, there was no doubt in the young molly's mind just who those kits belonged to. "There's no way." One of her thoughts spoken out loud, the warrior clearly in disbelief.
Then Briarstar emerged from her den and put the quickly growing rumors to rest, claiming the kits as her own. A startled gasp left her and conflicted feelings began to rise. "There's no way..." She repeated once more. How could their leader have hidden something like this from them? It was in Asterfrost's nature to try and see where the older molly was coming from, and why she would hide her pregnancy, but she was struggling to convince herself it was all in good faith. Something akin to betrayal was starting to settle, and it made her shift uncomfortably. |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 24, 2024 20:35:29 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap ยป
It was being lost in his thoughts that allowed Sorrelsnap to miss the impressive catch Cariboupaw had just made. It was being lost in his thoughts combined with his hearing already weakening that allowed the elder to not hear the apprenticeโs first happy cries of his name.
Not until the second round of calling his name did Sorrelsnap even begin to hear Cariboupaw. โHmm?โ He trilled more to himself than Cariboupaw, pupils dilating and ears swiveling forward, straining to hear what the young cat was trying to tell him. Back when he had been younger he had had some of the sharpest hearing around, able to hear even the smallest of creatures rummaging about in the leaf litter. It had been his ability to hear from such a large distance that had first impressed Jumpingjay - back then Jumpingpaw - when they had been training together as apprentices. The black tom hadnโt been able to get over just how impressed he was by Sorrelpawโs sharp hearing, much to Sorrelpawโs chagrin back then. Eventually Jumpingpaw had grown on him, so much so that by the time they were warriors it had been no surprise that they had become mates.
Sorrelsnap sighed through his nose, a motion deflating him. How he missed the days he shared with Jumpingpaw. How he missed the days he could actually hear.
Shaking his head he pulled himself out of his thoughts before traveling too far. โYou caught a grouse?โ He called in question, puzzled by that statement. It was quite clear by the excitement in her voice that she had caught something, and Sorrelsnap couldnโt deny the pride warming underneath his thinning pelt, but what was a grouse doing so close to camp? What was a grouse even doing in this part of the territory at all? Surely he hadnโt heard her rightโฆright?
But before the old tom could get an actual answer, new scents rushed forward, coiling around him like a thick aroma. Dried blood, cold mountain air, bitter herbs, kits.
โฆ Kits?
There was no way he was smelling kits from outside camp. The Clan currently had no kits, not until Silverfern gave birth to her litter. And even if she had given birth, why would she be outside with her younglings?
Sorrelsnap knew not to trust his ears and eyes anymore, but he could trust his nose. These scents were not some old catโs senses going awry.
Creaky joints and painful limbs shuddered as he forced himself onto his paws. โCariboupaw, can you tell whatโs going on?โ The apprentice was sure to have better senses. Sheโd have a better picture of whatever in StarClanโs name was going on at the moment. They could celebrate her grouse - which was still questionable - kill later, but right now, it seemed as if matters of higher importance were afoot.
Paintedmask ยป
Whatever attention he had on Asterfrost was thrown straight out of camp the moment Briarstarโs parade arrived.
The fur along Paintedmaskโs spine ruffled, the darkened fur of his tail bushing, his white nape bristling. Amber eyes rounded into two golden moons.
Paintedmask could hide that he knew Flinthawk had murdered his father. He could hide that he knew Oakstreakโs involvement in it all. He could even hide that he himself planned on murdering Gingerflame and Briarstar, but he couldnโt hide the shock that plastered his face at this moment.
Kits, two in Briarstarโs jaws and two in Eagleswoopโs, dangled in display made their way into camp. They were as small as mice and just as vulnerable. It was no secret that these kits had just been born, and upon looking at every cat returning to camp right now, it was clear where they had come from. Beaverpelt was a tom and much too old to desire kits. Buckpaw was young and a medicine cat apprentice. Snowpaw was a warrior apprentice who very well could have produced a litter, but there was nothing suggesting that these kits belonged to the white and ginger tom.
Pupils slowly narrowed as they shifted between Eagleswoop and Briarstar.
Claws unsheathed. Lips drew back.
Given any other circumstance, he would genuinely be happy for new parents. For all the impatience and sharpness that surrounded his heart, Paintedmask cared for the youth of ConiferClan. Kits grew into mighty warriors, they were innocent and fragile. It was true he had a soft spot for them, but in this moment he knew not happiness or celebration, but rather he felt wrath. Pure, unfiltered wrath for two very different reasons.
Reason one - what sort of mouse-hearted bird-brain hid her pregnancy from her Clan? What sort of coward would keep kits a secret when she very well knew just how unlucky ConiferClan was when it came to mothers and their litters? The argument could be made that mollies were giving birth since the beginning of time, and while, yes, that was very much true and kitting was a natural process that could easily be done without the need of a medicine cat, it was also true that there was just something that made it hard for ConiferClanโs queens and kits to survive after kitting. Palestreamโs mother, Goldtalon, Iristuftโs mother, Frigidkit, Rainkit, Skykit, Brightkit.
Nightmask and Brindlekit.
So many lives lost, so many families broken.
In a Clan where it felt as if kitting had become a curse, what in a queenโs right mind was she doing other than putting her and her kits in danger by keeping her litter a secret?
What sort of a leader was Briarstar if she so clearly had threatened the lives of kits by not telling the Clan?
Squirrel-brained, snake-hearted pile of wolf dung.
Briarstar had never been fit to be a leader, and this right here proved it all the more.
Reason two - there was no way that he could kill Briarstar now. He had no problems with killing a father, but the thought of killing a mother, killing the lifesource of a litter of kitsโฆ He knew all too well what it was like growing up without a mother. How it felt to be pitied by others, how the mothers of the other litters his age would whisper to their kits about his motherโs and sisterโs death. โBe sure to be nice to him, itโs hard growing up without a motherโ they would say when they thought he wasnโt listening. โYou need to play with him, he doesnโt have his littermate anymore,โ they would murmur when he pretended to be looking the other way. He had been ostracized in a way that felt uncanny, like the queens had tried so hard to make sure he felt he belonged that they ended up reminding him of why he didnโt belong.
Ten lives.
Earlier he had been prepared to take ten lives, but now he knew only the blood of one life could stain his paws. There was no way he could kill Briarstar now. No, he had to find some other way. He had to claim his rightful place as leader in some other way. The deathberries he had no idea Oakstreak had thrown out couldnโt be used as soon as he had hoped. Heโd allow Gingerflame to live a bit longer, only until he had figured out a new plan on how to get rid of Brairstar. He wouldnโt get to be leader for a little while longer, but this whole ordeal wasnโt putting his plans to a complete stop. He just had to think of something else, find a way to get rid of Briarstar without ending her nine times over. Surely there had to be a way to get rid of her that involved keeping her alive and with her kits, Paintedmask just had to think of something new.
He breathed in the cold air deeply. It was time to get back to the drawing board.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 25, 2024 0:30:42 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; @ basically everyone in camp lol --------------------------------------------------------------------- The old weary Medicine cat had been at his game to long to notnotice a commotion rolling into camp. He was expecting something, returning patrols, maybe his apprentice...but this was almost too much. His leader. His apprentice. His father, and a bunch of kits. Oakstreak heaved through his limp to go as fast as he could toward them. He eyed the kits thoughtfully, excruciatingly. Only once he saw that they were okay did he dare look at the others. It was obvious. These bundles of fur resembled their leader and her mate all too well...and Buckpaw reeked of blood and herbs. "What in Starclan's name were you thinking?!" Many cats, if they hadn't been looking, would have thought this was directed at the young, fluffy apprentice...but no. He was growling at his leader,"What kind of mother doesn't tell the Medicine Cat who has been around since her own kitting that she's pregnant?" For once he flashed a sympathetic look to Buckpaw. A seed of guilt was planted in his chest. He should have been there to help him. He should have been able to back up the apprentice who had always promised to be there for him. He would apologize later, right now he needed her to know just how much danger she was in. "Don't you know how much danger you've put yourself and your kits in?" If only she knew the half of it. If only he could tell her what he truly wanted to in his heart. That despite the successful kitting that trouble was far from over. He could feel Paintedmask's rage from across the camp. No words needed to be spoken.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Tealraven --------------------------------------------------------------------- Before he could prod his brother with any further questions, he heard his leader's call. The hawk. As if his legs weren't aching already. Still, he dared not say no. He dragged the hawk along with the group, several paces behind from the weight of it. By the time they stumbled into camp, he had immediately made his way to drop the bird at the fresh kill pile. As soon as he saw Fogpaw's friendly face, all he could say was,"Danger...saved Briarstar..." Suddenly his body thumped against the ground, exhaustion finally causing him to lay down. His breaths were heavy and labored, but he dared not complain. His leader just lost a life, his aching legs were not the biggest concern to him right now.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 25, 2024 13:20:52 GMT -5
HONEYSKIP
SNOWPAW and FOGPAW CAMP Forgotten by the decidedly distracted Gingerflame that morning, the Clanโs golden furred molly had gone on a solo hunt that particular morning. She didnโt blame ConiferClanโs deputy for having other things rattling his brain at the moment, she remembered all too well how her own mate had been when Honeyskipโs belly had swelled - and Oriolehop hardly had entire Clan to keep track of!
So when sheโd sat patiently, listening to familiar names get rattled off, only for her own to go unmentioned, the shecat had slipped from camp merrily enough. Always one to prefer her own company to the rush of a larger patrol, and gone for a hunt.
On her return to camp, two voles dangling by the tail from her golden-brown maw, she discovers it half-filled with a mix of recently returned patrols, and patrols that hadnโt yet gone out for the day. It didnโt seem that anyone has noticed she was gone in the first place, least of all had she been missed.
Honeyskip wasnโt especially surprised - her sons were all but fully grown by now, and had been long sick of her motherly attitude before even earning their status as -paws. Though a part of her would always picture them as Buckkit and Snowkit, the tiny bundles of fluff snuggled against her belly fur. Constantly paddling her underbelly in search of milk, mewling furious complaints if she dared so much as get up to make dirt. Oh what sweet little things they had been.
The pleasure of watching them grow into young, independent toms, both talented in their own ways had been hers alone. Each carried a piece of her heart and always would.
Honeyskip carries her catches toward the fresh-kill pile, dropping one with a gentle thus into the hollowโs earthen floor. Satisfied to see its offerings a little healthier than it had been when sheโd left just hours before. She sits straight again, scanning camp for the familiar, dark ginger and white pelt of her Tom, wondering if she might be able to convince him to help reach a dastardly matt she just couldnโt seem to reach. She drinks in air, parsing it for the familiar scents of open mountain and rich, green pine trees.
Instead she finds something far more interesting.
Honeyskip blinks, once, twice, three times in sheer disbelief.
Disbelief as Leader, Leaderโs mate, the geriatric elder and not one but both her sons entered camp. Looking for all the world like theyโd fought, paw to paw with the worldโs most rabid and furious badger.
With them, four kits, tiny and mewling, no bigger than mice and little paws kneading at the air. The mother instinct in her stung at the sight of tiny, distressed kittens.
The same instinct is immediately distracted when the scent of blood, fresh and metallic hits her senses, and she spots the variety of wounds scattered across the weary group of cats. Her eyes widen at the sight of Snowpaw, hawk clamped between his glinting and blood stained fangs. StarClan above.
The choice between which of her sons to follow was an instant one, when Buckpaw pads past her, newborn dangling from his mouth. There is blood matting his creamy form true enough, but a careful glance tells her none of it is his own. She would check on him later.
Instead golden paws carry her, hurriedly, towards Snowpaw, where Fogpaw has already intersected him. She too intersects them in time to hear her sonโs explanation, and watch him collapse like a puppet cut loose of its strings to the floor. โBy the stars, little one, what mischief have you gotten yourself into?โ Her voice surprisingly calm, the same tone sheโd used when sheโd found a son trying his best to scale camp walls, or convince a far larger apprentice into a wrestling match.
Honeyskip maintains that demeanour as as she leans down to muzzle his ears and check at his scratches, beyond thankful to find them mostly superficial. Freezing in midair as she hears Briarstarโs declaration that those tiny kits are her own, a thought that hadnโt even crossed the young mollyโs mind.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 25, 2024 14:14:11 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Tealraven ladylantsov --------------------------------------------------------------------- His mind and body felt just a quick jolt of strength as he had the scent of his mother washing over him. He looked up at her with his exhausted eyes and managed to huff out more words,"I helped...protect Briarstar...Buckpaw too." His gaze flickered over to his brother, a purr beginning to rumble in his throat as he finally caught his breath. "She got injured from the fight and I got Buckpaw to help." He knew his mother was proud of him, but he also hoped she too, saw this aas a sign that they were ready. That the sons she cared for all of these moons were going to get their full names. Their great feats of skill and loyalty were immense, and every aching bone in his body felt it was wprth it.
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Post by Tealraven on Jun 25, 2024 14:45:37 GMT -5
FOGPAW interacting with snowpaw, honeyskip // in camp
A short, surprised intake of breath escaped him. Danger? From what? The hawk? Fogpawโs gaze darted over to the leader's den. Low murmurs emanated from within, but no matter how he strained his ears, he couldnโt catch any words. He hadnโt noticed any injuries on the returning cats. Then again, it had all happened so fast, and heโd been distracted by the kits.
So the hunting patrol was attacked by a hawk? Or they found a defenseless queen and her newborns alone in the forest under attack and intervened to help? Which is it? The pale grey tom paced in a small circle. That might explain the kits, he thought. Maybe they arrived too late to save the queen, but were able to rescue the kits. That could be why they all looked so exhausted, too. โSaved Briarstar,โ Snowpaw had said. What did he mean by that? Fogpaw couldnโt imagine the fierce leader needing saving by anyone. Unlessโฆ Fogpaw halted abruptly. Did Briarstarโฆ lose a life? There was a puzzle here, and he was determined to figure it out.
He turned to Snowpaw, jaws parting to ask more questions, just as the other tom dropped to the ground. Alarmed, Fogpaw crouched beside him, hesitated, then reached out and draped his tail gently across Snowpawโs shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He smelled Honeyskip approaching before he saw her. Snowpawโs mother, good โ sheโll know how to help. Fogpaw glanced from the golden-furred warrior to her son as Snowpaw continued. His green eyes shone with wonder and admiration. โYou fought the hawk?โ he asked in a soft voice. He wished he could be as brave or useful in a life-or-death situation. โSnowpaw, you could earn your warrior name for that!โ
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 25, 2024 14:49:02 GMT -5
SLATESTORM
WISTERIASNOW and PALESTREAM BEYOND BOUNDARIES When the orders were said - and only he would ever consider what Wisteriasnow had said then as an order, or maybe only him and the two shecats he knew as sisters. His mother has a talent for saying orders like sweet requests, gentle prompts.
He knew to fear the honey, for he understood well the sting of the bee that protected it.
The stone-furred warrior had known better before he even knew the world outside camp.
Slatestorm nods his large head, gesturing for the two companions to take the lead, while he guarded the rear. Then followed his mother and clanmate, three figures in near perfect silence. They reached where they sprayed the last of their lands, the scent here was the strongest, the place he knew as home. There is no hesitation when he crosses the line between what is his and what he knows, and into the unfamiliar and the foreign.
He could taste his morherโs ire if he suggested even the smallest amount of uncertainty.
Regardless, though, it felt strange to leave. No matter how briefly, his close home remained to his heels, at his back. Only for a heartbeat he stops, turning and craning back in the direction of the Camp. Scanning snow-blanketed mountainside, only briefly for any hints of Smokey white and grey fur of the molly he kept secret even from his dam.
He isnโt surprised to find none, and is grateful she might be safe back in camp.
Before either clanmate can even notice heโs paused, heโs caught up with them again.
The three cats journey, checking any possible crevices and nooks that might indicate the beginnings of a badger set. They are thorough, but by the end of it, the only possible conclusion is that the badger is already long gone. Gratitude is a fleeting spark in the pit of his empty belly.
โLooks like badgers are smarter than I gave them credit for,โ Slatestorm comments aloud. Scoutโs point no longer in sight, he reasoned this was far enough from their boundaries for them to have checked for the enemy.
|| Hadnโt realised how long I had been ignoring these three Iโm sorry! |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 25, 2024 15:19:31 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
EAGLESWOOP & OAKSTREAK
LEADERโS DEN Oakstreak might as well have turned his back on a grizzly bear, when the three legged older Tom pushes past the leader in order to look over her four newborns. Had Briarstar not had the tightest reins around the raging beast that was her newly awakened motherly instinct, she would have dragged the tom away by his tail, and beaten him to a bloody pull for daring to assume he has the right to get so close to her kits without her explicit permission.
Though it didnโt help her case that she was as likely to allow a grizzly bear into her den, as she was the medicine cat right now, with all the suspicions she had of him.
The sound of her little ones mewling, confused and hungry little sounds, when a strange muzzle goes poking around the pile of them, leaves the fur on her hackles rising. Fortunately, sheโs forced it to flatten by the time the medicine cat had rounded on her to let Briarstar feel the iron bite of his fury.
All she wanted was to lie down beside her children, let them take their fill, and fall asleep to the sounds of their breath.
Hilariously low on any list of priorities - including the, do this or watch the world end, list - was listen to the medicine cat howl at her, his hot, stinking breath only making her den wreak of the Tom sheโd blossomed a hate for in the past ten moons.
Swallowing down her own fury, a blaze sparked to life by exhaustion and the need to protect her kits both, Briarstarโs chin is high as she responds to the medicine cat, knowing her words now arenโt just for Oakstreak, but for the clan that was no doubt listening to her. She could feel their looks, which ranged from wide eyed curiousity, to something closer to anger, as clearly as she was able to feel the weight of her own, sweat and blood matted fur.
โI only knew of those little oneโs existence for a matter of weeks,โ she admits aloud, letting her ice carry across camp, how it doesnโt tremble or dip. โMaybe something should have been said as soon as I learned, but as Iโm sure anyone will understand I wanted a moment to sit with the knowledge, to get used to the idea of being a mother before I shared the news.โ
The words arenโt lies, but they are half-truths and pretty ones at that.
โTake a second look,โ she continues, this time a little more quietly, despite her spoken offer she is daring the Tom to take a step closer to the squirming pile of kits in her nest. โIโm sure you know what a premature kitten looks like, Oakstreak, those little ones were born well before their time. Iโm grateful theyโre okay.โ
Thats the first time her voice slips into something like worry, like preemptive mourning. A mother knows her kits are far from out of the woods.
โThey were born due to wounds sustained from a hawk ambush,โ she explains, speaking up again now. โI fought to protect my clan and kits both, and StarClan will forgive me that the price for protecting your father and a strong apprentice was their early birth, Iโm sure.โ
โI lost my first life protecting my territory, as any leader, warrior or mother should.โ Sheโd considered keeping the news of her death a secret, but the moment Oakstreakโs fury had caught hold of her, she knew she was done with the secretiveness.
At least when it came to her little ones. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 25, 2024 15:44:28 GMT -5
HONEYSKIP
SNOWPAW and FOGPAW CAMP A hawk? Honeyskip was in half the mind to give Eagleswoop such a thorough clawing that his kittens would believe him entirely bald the first time they opened their eyes. In what world would he think that was an appropriate opponent for her young son? Just because the Tom was named Eagle did not mean that he had to go in search of the same, and especially not with her sons seemingly in tow.
But then if any mother had their way, their kittens wouldnโt have to fight anything more dangerous then a large fat squirrel until their grandkits had earned their warrior names.
She knew, as much as she despised it, that warrior life was dangerous. And no cat, no matter how loving and protective their mother - could be protected from that harsh truth.
She swallows down that pit of worry, trying to force pride into the empty spot it left within her. That, fortunately, had never taken a great deal of beckoning. She looks over her youngster with careful eyes, then says, โYou fought a hawk?โ Despite her attempts at slight playfulness, the mocking in her voice has such little heat to it it could have been funny. โNot possible, look at you! Thereโs barely a scratch in sight.โ She nuzzles his cheek gently, the rumble of her purr like a distant thunder. โYouโre sure it wasnโt a fat sparrow? Iโve made that mistake before too, you know.โ
Honeyskip looks to Fogpaw as the younger apprentice intones his own excitement. For all her shyness, the molly had a soft spot for the litter born not long after her own, though their shared time in the nursery had admittedly been quite short.
With a rueful mreow, she shakes her head. โBy the stars donโt say that too loud youngster, between Snowpaw and Greyhawk, weโll find ourselves a pandemic of apprentices seeking out birds of prey hoping to earn their warrior names.โ |
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Post by Sand on Jun 26, 2024 16:06:48 GMT -5
[ if you want to just poof them back to camp, go ahead, feather! ] Cariboupaw coniferclan territory โ accompanied by: Sorrelsnap & a dead mouse she/her - apprentice
With the mouse in her jaws, Cariboupaw trotted proudly out of the undergrowth. She was beaming from ear to ear without a single petty thought in mind. She didn't feel the need to berate Sorrelsnap yet! It was shocking to say the least. As she made her way over to the orange and white tabby, she wondered why he hadn't praised her yet.
It took her a good few moments to realize that Sorrelsnap hadn't heard her at all, hadn't even seen her miraculous kill. Dread filled the young feline's heart and was replaced with petty rage. What did she expect of him, an elder? An old cat who didn't have great hearing anymore? She frowned at his response, frustrated by the orange and white tabby's question.
"A grouse? Are you out of your mind, Sorrelsnap? I caught a mouse! I said a MOUSE!" Cariboupaw retorted, tail lashing fiercely. "What's a grouse? Also, did you see my amazing catch at all? Were you paying attention t-"
The creamy brown she-cat frowned, noticing the elder's expressions changing as he forced himself onto his paws. She flinched inwardly as she set her mouse down to scent the air. Blood, bitter herbs, and kits...? she thought as she glanced at Sorrelsnap. The smell of the kits reminded her of Burntears, Owlpaw and Flickerpaw, but mostly Flickerpaw. The sibling she and Owlpaw lost tragically alongside Haresprint. Her blue eyes filled with doom as she turned to Sorrelsnap slowly. Cariboupaw was confused. As far as she could remember, Silverfern wasn't due yet and she was the only queen in the nursery. "Blood, bitter herbs, and kits," she told him, gaze scouring the area for any cat in sight.
Yet there were familiar scents mixed in with the blood, herbs, and kits. Buckpaw's scent was easy to detect as Cariboupaw thought it was disgusting-- he had always smelled like decaying herbs. What was he doing out here without Oakstreak? Who was bleeding and why did she smell kits? Was her nose deceiving her? There was no way it was, Cariboupaw trusted her scenting skills.
"Someone... Someone is bleeding and now I smell kits. I can smell Buckpaw's funky scent already," the apprentice meowed to Sorrelsnap, scrunching her nose up in distaste before leaning down to the forest floor. "But first, let me pick up my mouse."
As quick as she could, Cariboupaw picked up her treasured prey and flicked her tail at the elder, pointing it towards the camp. "Do you need help or not?" she asked.
[ tags: Feathertalon | image credit: pinterest ]
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 26, 2024 19:52:53 GMT -5
BeaverpeltCamp // Open // Open
Beaverpelt was grateful to finally make it back to camp. What he had intended to be a short stroll into the forest had turned into an all-day adventure. His old bones were aching, and he wanted nothing more than to just lie in the sun. After he saw that Briarstar had entered her den with her kits, he proceeded to the medicine den. Maybe his son had some herbs he could use to help him rest. When he entered the den and saw no one was there, he sat down and waited for Oakstreak to return. |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 26, 2024 21:54:01 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; ladylantsov Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- Oakstreak was for once, stunned into silence for several moments. His brain tried to process everything she had just admitted to, in front of the whole clan. He bit his tongue about the Starclan premonition, deciding he would need to talk with her when so many eyes weren't peering on them. Instead, he tried to curve the conversation to lighter news, hoping to change the subject and take the heat off of his leader. He trained his green eyes on his apprentice, but continued to speak to his leader. "If Buckpaw is capable of assisting with a queen's kitting without losing any of the kits, maybe the timeline of him receiving his full name should be reconsidered."
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; ladylantsov Tealraven--------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowpaw almost felt offended by his mother's words, having taken pride in his contribution to the large bird's demise. He flicked his head to the carcass on the fresh kill pile. "It was a hawk! Look at it onthe fresh kill pile! I only managed to escape mostly unharmed because of our fearless leader and my mentor. They swiped at it while I kept it on the ground!" He almost stood on hid paws once more, but the ache in his joints stopped the thought before it left his head. A part of him was hoping a certain she-cat was around to witness his great feat, but he had no such luck. She was nowhere to be found.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 27, 2024 11:17:21 GMT -5
Buckpaw ยป
It wasnโt until his paws hit the familiar earth of camp did Buckpaw realize just how exhausted he was.
An ever energetic youth, for once he was shivering under the pressure of everything that had just happened; images of just hours ago darted through his mind. Snowpaw rushing into camp, the two brothers darting through the woods, the hawkโs corpse, Briarstarโs wounds, the kits, the leaderโs first death. Not to mention that Buckpaw had traversed half the territory with his mentor prior to that.
โฆ Had that really been this morning? Had all of that really happened today?
The commotion of camp was invisible to the tabby. Every now and then he would make out words that were being tossed about like limp prey - Briarstarโs confession, Oakstreakโs fury, the confused mutterings of the other Clan cats.
One singular worm of thought wrapped around Buckpawโs brain. Head shifting upward, copper eyes following, he stared toward the dark brown form of his mentor, of the cat who had been training him for the past five moons. Buckpawโs tail twitched, questioning, curious. Where had his mentor been when Snowpaw first came crashing into camp? Oakstreak had explicitly told Buckpaw to come and get him if something happened, and something had happened. The hawk, the wound, the kits, and the leaderโs first deathโฆ So much had happened. So much that Oakstreak should have been there for. Oakstreak should have guided Buckpaw as he worked to fix the leaderโs mortal wound and help her bring life to four new Clanmates.
Doubt trickled into his chest. Would Briarstar have even lost a life if Oakstreak had been there? Was it Buckpawโs inexperience that cost the leader a life?
The medicine cat apprentice stumbled, tiredness dragging at his paws, putting pounds of pressure atop him. Some day soon heโd have the entire Clan to take care of. Some day soon every single cat would be his responsibility. A shiver ran down his spine. Was he ready for such a task? Could he really take care of all of his Clanmates and be prepared for whatever they had wrong with them? Earlier he had been excited, albeit a little nervous, when Oakstreak had brought up the idea of naming him a full medicine cat. Now he just felt tired. Now he just felt anxious. Could he really do it? Healing was his passion, Buckpaw could not deny that, but was he really destined to be the next medicine cat after Oakstreak?
As if StarClan themselves knew exactly what he needed at this moment, his ears caught the all too familiar voice of his mother. Sweet and gentle, he was drawn to her warmth like a bee to pollen. Stumbling tired paws padded toward her, the young tom not stopping until his muzzle was buried into her thick pelt. Comforting, soothing. Buckpaw had always adored his parents, coming to them at any given moment that he could. Yes, he was older now, no longer living at his motherโs side in the nursery, but Honeyskip and Oriolehop meant the world to Buckpaw.
Still pressed against his mother, he acknowledged her two other companions with a flick of his tail - the ever curious Fogpaw stood nearby while his surely just as tired littermate occupied the space near Honeyskip as well.
Words mumbled into Honeyskipโs fur, Buckpaw spoke for the first time since making it back to camp. โI have pinecones for you, Snowpaw.โ
Wisteriasnow ยป
After moons of being a warrior, season upon season, it was not very often that Wisteriasnow had ever set paw outside ConiferClanโs territory. Perhaps twice in her career as a warrior had it happened, odd scents from near the border drawing in the curious minds of a warrior patrol. Something odd so close to the border was cause for concern. Ignoring a problem just because its scent faded into the unknown was bad etiquette. It was the mark of an ignorant warrior, of a cat who may cost their Clanmatesโ lives all because they dared not step paw across the border.
Alongside Palestream and Slatestorm the pointed warrior searched the rocky slopes that jutted outward, the rocky slopes that perhaps no other warrior had placed their paws upon. This was untouched land, land that belonged to nobody but the earth itself. It was unlikely that even the cats of StarClan could see the patrol from here, their starry ancestorsโ territory line stopping in the exact same spot as it did for the living. StarClan or no StarClan, should a badger erupt from the shadows and charge them like a demon, Wisteriasnow knew she would be ready.
Blue eyes glanced between Palestream and Slatestorm.
Two solid warriors remained at her side. For all the grief and criticism she gave her son, Wisteriasnow realized that he was a good warrior. Perhaps not the best, but he did his job well. There would always be room for improvement, but at least on the surface level, not even Wisteriasnow could complain about the two warriors she had at her side. They didnโt need the eyes of StarClan to watch over them if they fought a furious beast, all they needed was their prowess and loyalty to their Clan.
Good fortune smiled down upon the trio. No immediate scents brought forth the danger of a badger. Wisteriasnow planned on reporting this to Briarstar and Gingerflame once they returned back to camp, but more likely than not the badger had simply been passing through. Off to green pastures upon another mountain slope, Wisteriasnow hoped. She herself would ask the deputy if she could lead another patrol to this exact border in the coming days, just to make sure that the scent had faded and was not freshened by the lumbering creature that had originally made it. While it appeared they were under no threat from a badger, Wisteriasnow knew it would be wiser to double check than to assume the best. Badgers were not only a threat to the cats themselves, but a threat to their already scarce prey source. A large predator rooting about their land and taking their prey was the last thing they needed with leaf-bare approaching.
With a swish of her thick-furred tail, Wisteriasnow motioned for her patrol to follow her back toward the border and into their own land once more. It was then that she acknowledged something she had noticed earlier, something so small, something so insignificant, that it didnโt even matter in the grand scheme of things, but the senior warrior was curious. She was prying. This wasnโt the first time she had noticed subtle glances and elusive pauses in her sonโs motions. Perhaps they stemmed from Slatestormโs concern for his Clan, his need to double check that everything was in fact safe. Or perhaps they came from something else entirely, and if so, then was it not a motherโs job to check in with her kits and make sure they were okay?
โDid you scent something earlier, Slatestorm? I noticed you pause earlier.โ It had been such a brief pause, a momentary lapse in thought, but ever the watchful mother with the eyes of an eagle, Wisteriasnow had noticed. She always noticed the miniscule things about her kits. How their pelt lay against their frame, how they flicked their ears at a sound, how they chose to eat their prey. Wisteriasnow noticed it all. She had always been an attentive mother. How else could she check for imperfections if not?
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