We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 8, 2012 7:04:11 GMT -5
Hailstrike Yes, hopefully loss of loyalty is not contagious. Briefly, Hailstrike nodded, a flicker of worry flashing across her eyes as fast as a lightning bolt. "So do we," She agreed firmly, "So far, he has done a good job isolating it to himself." Luckily, no one had needed a medicine cat recently, but no one knew how long their luck would last. At least the herbs TreeClan would hopefully give them would be there when they found a new one, and there was no question that they would; it was necessary. Again, she nodded at his comment about Spottedfeather and felt complete relief spread through her all the way down to her tingling paws when she comprehended the implications. We have a chance. Short on herbs and short on a medicine cat were two different problems, but they had, at least, fixed one. "Thank you, Lionstar."
As the leader turned his attention toward her apprentice, Hailstrike split her focus. Keeping an ear listening in on the conversation between the two toms, she found her own gaze drifting toward the apprentice by his side, whom she did not recognize. Of course, I don't spend much time with TreeClan apprentices, She mused idly. But she really is small. That alone would make her memorable. Though perhaps she was just a new appprentice? They were small too; her gaze flicked over to Granitepaw. He hadn't exactly been new when he had become her first apprentice, but he had still been toward the small side. Deciding to start her own side conversation with the she-cat, who had remained silent so far, Hailstrike's voice rose in her throat, the question on the tip of her tongue. Then Granitepaw's conversation distracted her.
Ice blue eyes refocused on her apprentice, pride flashing across them as they landed on his familiar tan pelt. "Yes," She agreed. "12 moons and about to become a valuable addition to StoneClan's ranks." If only you could see how far he has come.
Littlepaw Granitepaw. She repeated it in her head, glad to have a name to add to the face. The little she-cat would remember it, for she had not met many cats from other clans. With Granitepaw's attention split between her and Lionstar, she relaxed a little, though she was not oblivious to the constant glances she was receiving from the other tom. A different prickling sensation on her pelt distracted her from the conversation, and she turned to see the other warrior staring at her. Raising her head, Littlepaw met the she-cat's gaze with a slightly curious, even look of her own. Was this Hailstrike? Her eyes certainly appeared frosty enough to have that name.
When the StoneClan warrior turned and commented after Granitepaw, her guess was confirmed. Hailstrike. A formidable name for a formidable warrior. Attention drawn back to the conversation, she looked back toward Lionstar and the other apprentice. She had been right about his age too, she noted, pleased with her estimating abilities. He was very close to becoming a warrior; his mentor had even said so, but it showed in his countenance the most. There was this confidence about him, and Littlepaw found herself wishing that it was infectious. He looked considerably more poised and certain than she felt. Perhaps it was something gained with age?
OOC: That's fine. Next post you can start that
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Post by Fawn on Nov 8, 2012 16:12:04 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:330; height: 470; background-color: #CECBB7; border: 0px solid #000000; text-align:center; padding: 4px;background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/6e3yux.jpg); border-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;][STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 18pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: -220px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px;]Just a crack in this castle of glass.[/style]
| [STYLE=color: #B48980; font-size: 16pt; font-family: terminal; border-top: 1px dotted #222222; text-align: center; width: 340; margin-top: -430;margin-left: 30px; padding-top: 5px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;] [/style] [STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 16pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: 0px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px; margin-left: 30px;]Granitepaw - 12 Moons - StoneClan[/style] [STYLE=color: #565656; background-color: #B0B0B0; width: 340px; height: 200px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dotted #000000; font-size:9px; overflow: auto; margin-left: 30px; margin-top: -20px;]
The exchange at the border, in which they got a decent amount of herbs to carry back as well as instructions on how to use a few of them, overall Granitepaw was confident that things had went well. He couldn't actually say what he was feeling, considering he had raspberry leaves tickling the roof of his mouth what with the bundle he was carrying, and Hailstrike was likely occupied as well, the mentor and apprentice forced to pad in silence rather than discuss their first mission as a duo. Granitepaw was feeling pretty good. His tail was up, his yellow-green eyes were all aglow with success, and his steps were light as they crossed StarClan's Claws towards StoneClan's territory.
Despite it very much looking as though Granitepaw was just happy all had went well when speaking with Lionstar and the other TreeClanners, the apprentice was inwardly relieved towards the state of his Clan. Now that they had some herbs, Hailstrike, Fallingstar, Falconleap, Eagletalon - they would all stop worrying quite so severely. It was particularly unusual to see the battle-scarred sandy warrior, Eagletalon, fret over things like that. Eagletalon was a bit more brawn than brains, so the situation had to be rather dire for a guy who didn't think much to be so deeply concerned with the Clan's wellbeing.
It wasn't at all unlike Hailstrike to worry. Granitepaw had, by now, more than picked up on his mentor's usual heavy involvement with anything Clan-related. He inwardly liked to think of her as a second deputy - she was certainly reliable and loyal and patient enough to be one, as far as he could tell. Despite her best poker face, Granitepaw could always tell when she was fretting over something, but her usual air of military smartness had come crashing down around her when they'd crossed into TreeClan territory, masking her emotions even from him.
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If an apprentice could read her emotions, even if they'd known each other for 3 moons now, it meant everyone else could too.
Lost in thought, the warrior-to-be felt his blood turn to ice as three dark shapes rose up along the horizon line, and a familiar voice wafted into his ears, carried on wings of arrogance and pride.
"So you survived, Granitepaw? What did they do, turn you into their new Medicine Cat?"
The apprentice's breath seized in his throat as a solid gray warrior came into his line of sight, yellow eyes gleaming with smugness.
There was no mistaking it.
Shadeclaw!
[/style]
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 8, 2012 17:15:31 GMT -5
Hailstrike Success! It warmed her with every step. There was nothing quite like the feeling of victory and accomplishment that came with a job well done. As it turned out, TreeClan had been more than willing to hand over their extra herbs, going so far as to give them instructions too. That part made Hailstrike worry; as far as they knew, Crowfang was merely ill. Why would TreeClan feel the need to offer a clan advice when they had a perfectly capable medicine cat of their own? Perhaps they had just felt extra generous... Naturally a wary cat, that explanation did not appease her suspicions. Tucking her worry away to ponder later, Hailstrike decided to focus on their success.
In silence, they turned and padded toward the border, and the warmth of the accomplishment that had spread through her was slowly replaced by urgency. They had the herbs; now they had to get them back to camp safely, and then she and Granitepaw could go out hunting. Leaf-bare was practically upon them, and any prey was a welcome catch. Unconsciously, she sped up, taking longer strides at a brisker pace. Eyes focused forward as she considered where they could hunt, mentally travelling throughout StoneClan's familiar territory. As always, there are the scrublands, but perhaps the Little Woo--
A painfully familiar voice cut through her thoughts, just as sharp as his claws. Hailstrike froze, jaw clenching against the delicate herbs before she forced herself to relax; they had a mission to fulfill. If they could escape this situation with minimal conflict... As the she-cat slowly turned to face Shadeclaw, one look told her that chances of that were slim. Of course. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Granitepaw and willed him to keep his temper in check. And prayed that she could remain fairly unprovoked as well. "Everything he says," She muttered to him, words muffled by the herbs, "is a complete lie. Remember that. You're one of StoneClan's best apprentices, and nothing he can do will change that."
Ratfur Many criticized him for his wiry frame, skinny to the point of unhealthiness, but he did not believe it to be too much of a problem. Of course, it gave him no advantage in a battle, but his fighting abilities were so pathetic that even the added brawn would be of little use to him. His talent lay with slinking through the shadows, unseen and unnoticed until he desired it, and in this area, his lean build and sleek fur gave him an advantage. For the most part, he did not have to worry about rustling the undergrowth or getting caught on thorns, and he used every chance he could to practice his ability. Even on border patrols.
Call him paranoid, but scouting ahead of the main patrol gave him the upper hand. He knew what was coming. If a battle broke out, he already knew the layout of the land and could easily scope out a place to hide. If a patrol was there, he could see the number of cats and judge whether or not it was an attack without being seen, perhaps even eavesdrop if he was far enough ahead. Of course, he reported most of his findings to the other cats on patrol with him, but the solitude of stalking alone retained enough appeal to have him continue the action.
And so, he had gone ahead of Blackwolf and Shadeclaw on the patrol of the StarClan's Claws border, weaving in and out of the trees with uncanny ease. Upon reaching the section where the NightClan-TreeClan border met with the third, he stopped, peering through the undergrowth at the two unfamiliar cats. Scenting the air, he detected StoneClan, and his idea was proved when they turned in the direction of said clan's border. Interesting. Why does StoneClan need help from TreeClan? Perhaps it was worth looking into, but for now, he would be satisfied with telling the other toms about his discovery.
On light feet, he made his way back to the rest of the patrol, instinctively keeping low to the ground. He was in no rush; the two felines had showed no intention of crossing over into their land. Reaching Blackwolf and Shadeclaw, he described what he had seen, "Two StoneClan cats, an apprentice and a warrior, are walking away from TreeClan. They don't seem to pose any threat to us, but I think it's worth checking out the situation." Mid-way through his report, his eyes flicked over to Blackwolf, wanting to see the other tom's reaction. But Shadeclaw distracted him, for the warrior moved on ahead, stepping up to the border. The sound of Shadeclaw's voice, as he called out to the pair, startled him, almost as much as the familiarity with which he addressed the apprentice. Granitepaw.. Why did that name sound so familiar?
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Post by Fawn on Nov 10, 2012 16:38:11 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:330; height: 470; background-color: #CECBB7; border: 0px solid #000000; text-align:center; padding: 4px;background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/6e3yux.jpg); border-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;][STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 18pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: -220px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px;]Just a crack in this castle of glass.[/style]
| [STYLE=color: #B48980; font-size: 16pt; font-family: terminal; border-top: 1px dotted #222222; text-align: center; width: 340; margin-top: -430;margin-left: 30px; padding-top: 5px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;] [/style] [STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 16pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: 0px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px; margin-left: 30px;]Granitepaw - 12 Moons - StoneClan[/style] [STYLE=color: #565656; background-color: #B0B0B0; width: 340px; height: 200px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dotted #000000; font-size:9px; overflow: auto; margin-left: 30px; margin-top: -20px;]
"Everything he says is a complete lie. Remember that. You're one of StoneClan's best apprentices, and nothing he can do will change that."
Breathe in slowly, breathe out slowly. Okay. He could deal with this. With Hailstrike's words fighting off the numbness that was creeping into his paws, Granitepaw held his head up high, shooting Shadeclaw a dirty look, the ability to display his complete and total dislike of his former member was actually...quite satisfying.
Shadeclaw, on the other hand, just chuckled under his breath, the traitor slinking closer, with Blackwolf acting as a grim shadow just behind them. Interestingly enough, the tom with the mismatched eyes wasn't saying anything, he was standing beside a skinny brown warrior with bright green eyes, apparently not feeling compelled to back Shadeclaw up.
Unaware to Granitepaw, the two NightClan toms absolutely hated each other.
"Oh I remember you," drawled Shadeclaw, his line of sight drawn instinctively to the she-cat who had taken up the mantle of Granitepaw's mentor. This drew out another chuckle under his breath, his yellow eyes aglitter with mockery. "What's it like training this mess?" A single tail flick in Granitepaw's direction had the apprentice seeing red. Hackles raised, he felt a hard lump in his throat from all the emotion he'd been holding back, his stomach clenching painfully, his paws trembling with poorly hidden anguish and twisted loathing. "I'm only messed up because of YOU!" Granitepaw snarled, the bundle of herbs tumbling from his mouth, Shadeclaw watching it's rapid descent with obvious amusement.
"Oh right. How forgetful of me." Stalking closer to the apprentice, however, Granitepaw felt that telltale trembling spread to not just his paws, but his whole body - even his whiskers quivered, Shadeclaw now just a hare's breadth from the snarling muzzle belonging to Granitepaw. "To be honest with you, my poor little apprentice," hissed Shadeclaw beneath his breath, his whiskers tickling Granitepaw's left ear, the apprentice staring, sightless past Shadeclaw's shoulder as he listened with a stalled heart to the cat's words.
"You've always been a failure. Right from the beginning."
Though his words were, as Hailstrike had stated, a complete lie, Granitepaw was like a fish caught in a fisherman's net, no amount of thrashing ever going to make a difference - but at least he'd die fighting. It was funny how those whispered words had seemed so loud; they were soon drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears and the wildfire in his veins, Granitepaw letting out a howl of rage and anger and sadness as he flung himself at his tormentor.
Shadeclaw had been ready for him - he'd been the one to goad him into a senseless fight, after all.
As for the black warrior with the mismatched eyes, he stood back and did nothing, his tail held out to bar Ratfur's way, should the skinny warrior have thoughts of jumping in to join the fray. It might have looked like chivalry, to let ex-mentor and ex-apprentice duke it out, but it wasn't anything so noble. Blackwolf didn't like Shadeclaw. He was no ally of his. If the lithe gray apprentice managed to kill him, then... too bad, so sad. He'd say a few quick words and then bury him.
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[STYLE=color: #565656; background-color: #B0B0B0; width: 340px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dotted #000000; font-size: 6pt; margin-left: 30px; margin-top: -20px; line-height: 7px;]WORDS. TAGGED. NOTES. MUSE. CREDITS. this template was created by rei-chan of btn[/style]
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 10, 2012 17:39:54 GMT -5
Hailstrike Much to her relief, the muttered words had the desired effect, the firmness with which they had been spoken countering the slightly hasty speed. Granitepaw stilled, his breathing calming down, and the hope that they might actually make it out of this encounter unscathed increasted ever so slightly. He could glare all he wanted as long as he did not let his former mentor's words get to him; they had an important mission to finish. Then they could come back and finish what they had started, for Granitepaw was not the only one who wanted Shadeclaw's blood to stain their claws. It wasn't his fighting abilities she doubted, but rather his control.
An icy, analytical gaze flicked to assess the warriors behind the traitor. The larger one looked like he could be an issue if he decided to defend his clanmate, but the skinny brown one would be considerably less of a challenge. Though it did not seem like they had any inclination to move, which was fine with Hailstrike - she had her apprentice and his former mentor to deal with - she made a mental note to keep tabs on them; the warrior did not want to be surprised. Her pale blue eyes met the traitors, harboring far more coldness than she ever would for a clan mate. The vicious words carried across the distance were full of spite, and Hailstrike mentally winced. It is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. You have no idea what you left behind that day. She was not going to deign to respond to the traitor, and only the clenching of a jaw gave away her rising anger.
Granitepaw was not faring so well, and she found herself reminding him of her previous words, her voice barely audible. Hailstrike wished that she could help the apprentice; sitting by while he was torn apart by his former mentor's cruel words was horrible, but defending him with retorts would only make him look weak in front of the traitor. Since it would give Shadeclaw more fodder, that would only prove to be counterproductive. Setting the bundle of herbs at her paws, Hailstrike could only watch helplessly as the traitor approached them, willing herself to do something but completely unsure of the right course of action. "Run back to NightClan, Shadeclaw," She found herself hissing. "Run back like the little, idiotic coward you are." But he continued to approach, meandering right up beside the frozen apprentice. The world seemed to still and fall silent as the traitor dealt the final blow.
And then Granitepaw turned and attacked. Something left her maw, a cry, a screech, or a mix of all three. "STOP, GRANITEPAW!"[/i] But he had lunged at his antagonist, who had been more than ready for him. Instantly, the she-cat leapt into action, launching herself at the traitor in hopes of distracting him from the apprentice.
Ratfur Well, this is more interesting than I thought it would be. It pleasantly surprised him. As a thick, ebony tail fell in front of him, Ratfur glanced up at Blackwolf, amused at the uselessness of the action. He wasn't about to jump in and join the fight; not only did he not have the skills to match Shadeclaw - and probably even the apprentice - his flight sense was considerably stronger than his fight one. No, he much preferred to watch from the shadows.
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Post by Fawn on Nov 11, 2012 18:32:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:330; height: 470; background-color: #CECBB7; border: 0px solid #000000; text-align:center; padding: 4px;background-image: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/6e3yux.jpg); border-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;][STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 18pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: -220px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px;]Just a crack in this castle of glass.[/style]
| [STYLE=color: #B48980; font-size: 16pt; font-family: terminal; border-top: 1px dotted #222222; text-align: center; width: 340; margin-top: -430;margin-left: 30px; padding-top: 5px; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 5px #000000;] [/style] [STYLE=color: #A73A3A; font-size: 16pt; font-family: gill; width: 360;margin-top: 0px; text-shadow: #634C4C 0px 0px 1px; margin-left: 30px;]Granitepaw - 12 Moons - StoneClan[/style] [STYLE=color: #565656; background-color: #B0B0B0; width: 340px; height: 200px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dotted #000000; font-size:9px; overflow: auto; margin-left: 30px; margin-top: -20px;]
By happenstance, the bundle of herbs Granitepaw had abandoned came to a wind-blown stop at large ebony paws, Blackwolf's bi-color gaze directed downward to this precious parcel. He looked back up in time to see Hailstrike jumping into the fray, but he snagged her attention with a quick yowl. "I think you have other things to worry about, StoneClanner." The brawny tom flicked Ratfur's shoulder with his tail, nudging the first bundle in front of Ratfur's claws, a clear indication he was supposed to watch it, while Blackwolf went to retrieve the second one. Well well. What have we here? Medicinal herbs for StoneClan? Ah what a pity. They probably wouldn't make it back to StoneClan, what with the two deliverers currently...otherwise engaged.
Blows had not been softened in respect to their prior relationship. The emotionally wounded apprentice gave no quarter as he tore into his ex-mentor, the clear-headed, black-hearted Shadeclaw doing likewise, tufts of fur flying and blood droplets littering the ground, snarling and yowling and howls of pain rising to the skies like smoke from a fire. The addition of Hailstrike was dangerous, as Granitepaw, so consumed by his own emotions, could no longer differentiate between current and former mentor, and simply bit and scratched whatever pelt wasn't his, blood dripping into his yellow-green eyes from a cut on his forehead, his belly raked thrice, his flank sporting a long gash that looked deeper than it actually was.
To Granitepaw's credit, despite his rage making him sloppy, he was still as fast as ever, striking like a cobra against a slippery mongoose, mouth full of poison with every gnashing bite he took.
But any temporary upperhand he'd gotten was just that, temporary. Shadeclaw was overpowering him, their blood and fur mingling as the larger, more experienced gray cat pinned the younger one beneath him, his jaws clamped around the back of Granitepaw's neck. Amidst the adrenaline rush and the howl of his wounded heart and battered pride, the apprentice felt a few tingles of fear. Was Shadeclaw going to kill him?
Awareness of his errors began to rush him dressed up in fear and panic as he flailed beneath his tormentor, trying to throw him off, but each attempt had Shadeclaw's hold tightening further. No! StarClan please! I can't- not like this - not because of HIM!
Whether StarClan had taken pity on Granitepaw, or whether they were angry with blood being spilled upon sacred ground, whatever the case was, they made their presence known with a bolt of lightning and a loud roar of thunder.
Blackwolf froze, every hair on his pelt standing on end as he stared at the scorched earth in front of him, separating the NightClan warrior from the bundle of herbs he'd just been about to pick up. Two more steps, and he would've been nothing but a pile of smoking bones.
OOC: I didn't want this fight to really drag out. The real highlight is gonna be when Shadeclaw leads a band of loners/rogues to attack a StoneClan patrol in two or three days (in the RP). That should be the conclusion to Granitepaw's issue with Shadeclaw, and how he earns his warrior name. -nods- [/style]
[STYLE=color: #565656; background-color: #B0B0B0; width: 340px; border-top: 3px solid #000000; border-bottom: 1px dotted #000000; font-size: 6pt; margin-left: 30px; margin-top: -20px; line-height: 7px;]WORDS. TAGGED. NOTES. MUSE. CREDITS. this template was created by rei-chan of btn[/style]
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 15, 2012 18:36:10 GMT -5
Hailstrike All call from the side caught her attention at the most inopportune moment, splitting her focus just as she leapt into the fray with outstretched claws. Her head whipped around just time time to see the large ebon tom making his way toward her abandoned bundle of herbs. Mousebrain! How could you leave those unattended?! You have a mission to finish! On instinct, she considered redirecting her motion, whipping around the instant she landed so that she could confront the other NightClan tom and protect the precious herbs. But then she would leave Granitepaw at the mercy of his old mentor.
In her conscious mind, the herbs did not stand a chance.
But her body had chosen to obey her subconscious, to follow the tried and true. Moons of loyal and professional service dictated that she complete her mission at any cost; her loyalty was to StoneClan and only StoneClan, no one else. She had drilled that idea into her mind for so long that she it had practically become second-nature to her. Complete the mission. Whatever the cost. Warriors were replacable. New kits were born every season.
However, Granitepaw was different. He was nearly a warrior, but he was far more than his rank. All of StoneClan could see how far he had come in only a few moons. He had a habit of knocking his head into objects. He feared swimming, so he came up with a solution. He was persistent and determined, hard-working and forever loyal. He had remembered how to trust, and he was willing to try again. Hailstrike could not let all of that go to waste for the sake of a few herbs. He is my apprentice.
And so, she ended up twisting sideways in the air, half-turned to look back at Blackwolf has he drew dangerously near to the herbs. Upon landing, off balanced, claws dug into her left fore-leg. It was her bad one, and it chose this time to buckle under the force of her landing. Stumbling, Hailstrike received a blow to the side of her face, barely managing to turn away in time to protect her eyes. A hiss escaped her as she righted herself, noting the position of Granitepaw, who moved as if he had sprouted wings on his paws. Her small apprentice flew everywhere, darting in and landing a blow wherever he could. Hailstrike's attacks joined his as she moved to the other side of Shadeclaw whenever possible.
Granitepaw's inexperience, however, was his weakness. His strikes, however fast and dangerous, lacked the accuracy of a practiced warrior. More often than once, the she-cat felt claws dig into her shoulders and sides and nearly took off her own apprentice's head in response. And then it abruptly ceased. In an instant, Hailstrike saw her apprentice pinned to the ground by his former mentor, deadly jaws curled around Granitepaw's bloody neck. A snarl escaped her maw, and she leapt without a second thought at the NightClan warrior. She aimed to kill.
Once again, her attention was split the instant her paws left the ground. This time, however, it was not the call of an antagonistic warrior but instead a clap of thunder and a bolt of lighting. With outstretched claws, Hailstrike froze in shock, though inertia carried her through the air. Shadeclaw seemed to have stilled as well, his jaws still clamped dangerously around Granitepaw's neck. She collided with him, knocking the warrior off her apprentice with what she hoped was minimal damage. Placing herself between him and the fallen tom, Hailstrike hissed, beyond words. The fur along her spine bristled in a clear message. If you want to get to him, you'll have to get through me first.
Ratfur With a paw, the skinny tom gathered the bundle of herbs closer to him, green eyes landing on the StoneClan she-cat, who had twisted mid-flight. It was a sly trick that Blackwolf was about to pull, and Ratfur could honestly say that he did not care if it succeeded or not. His attention had moved to encompass the entire fight between his clanmate and the apprentice, and he watched with mild interest. He knew Shadeclaw's fighting abilities; the warrior had experience and - as it appeared - talent on his young opponent, and the analytical tom could already predict the outcome of the match.
Because of that, little surprise flickered through him when Shadeclaw ended up pinning the younger cat. Now, will he actually kill the apprentice? If what he had guessed was true, and this was his apprentice from StoneClan, then the warrior would have to be able to push past all the emotional bonds that supposedly formed between an apprentice and his mentor. Would he be able to do it?
Unfortunately, Ratfur's question remained unanswered, for a loud clap of thunder and a jolt of lightning cracked through the air. The skinny warrior felt his heart leap at the sound, and he instinctively cowered back into the darker shadows. Could that have been StarClan? There was very little chance that the occurance would have happened on its own, for the weather did not hint at storms. And no normal bolt of lightning would have hit right in front of Blackwolf's nose like that. Amusement forced the ghost of a smirk on his face at said warrior's startled body language, and he would have given almost anything to see Blackwolf's expression. Ratfur was not a devout believer in StarClan, for he preferred to keep his feet planted firmly on the ground.
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Post by Fawn on Nov 16, 2012 17:17:01 GMT -5
Blackwolf:
"Shadeclaw!" The jet black warrior hissed in his Clanmate's direction, a flick of his tail and a backward kick of the bundle towards Hailstrike signaling this little 'meet and greet' was officially over. The dark tom turned a bleeding, scratched muzzle in the direction of Hailstrike and Granitepaw, his lips pulling back into a sneer that was characteristic of a jackal. "See you soon, Granite. You too Hailstrike."
Those words left hanging between them, the battered warrior limped after Blackwolf at first, but soon muscled his way through the pain and found his stride, his tail held high in a signal of victory, blood littering the ground in his wake. Blackwolf was still recovering from the lightning strike, his posture that of a confused grizzly - ready to lash out at anything that got close, because the unknown was a petri dish for fear, mistrust and mistakes. So he kept his distance from the others, the dark look in his bi-color eyes more than enough red caution tape for Ratfur and Shadeclaw to give him some space.
As for who had been left behind...
Granitepaw:
Granitepaw couldn't speak. The world was just noise noise noise noise NOISE. None of it was reaching him, he was in his own little airtight bubble, alone with his scratches, his ripped ear, his aching scruff, his claw-seared flanks, and his crushed soul. His ears rang. His heart was still racing, but his eyes had lost their clarity, life was still there, flickering somewhere between the depressive glassiness and the wounds of the soul.
How could he have been so...stupid? So easy? So wrong? So meaningless? The world couldn't hold all of the words that fit him at this moment, but one was beating through his bloodstream like a pulse, circulating through his system as though it had been there this whole time. Disgrace. He had disgraced his Clan, his mentor, and himself. He had let Hailstrike down. He'd let everyone down, and he'd almost died for it.
Choked with emotion, the blank-staring gray tom lowered his head, this initial action of surrender morphing into him laying upon the ground, his chin touching his bloody paws. Would it have been better if Shadeclaw had killed him? If he were a casualty, if he were that cat's last loose end, perhaps this would all end? He would...rest, finally. Free of all the anger and the hatred and the sorrow he was feeling; free of that heart-crushing guilt and the weight upon his body that was trying to pulverize him.
So this was what the bottom felt like.
He didn't have the heart to laugh scornly at his own predicament.
...and to think, Shadeclaw's betrayal and his injury two months ago - to think that he'd been sulking then. This was something else entirely; this was him accepting that things could not be changed, at least, not things that had something to do with him. He had tried, he'd really did, he'd given his whole heart and soul into becoming a better person, a different cat than the one that had nearly drowned in the river. That hadn't been enough. One encounter with the cat who had all the power to destroy him, and he was unraveling at the seams like some kind of puppet.
If there had ever been a moment where 'curling up to die' had been appropriate, now sure as hell felt like one of those times.
OOC: ^^; Hit rock bottom.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 17, 2012 12:21:23 GMT -5
Ratfur A sneer briefly curled his lips upward as he watched Shadeclaw limp back toward Blackwolf at the other warrior's urging. Even if he had been the victor of the fight, the combination of the apprentice and his new mentor had been ferocious enough. And Blackwolf was still in shock from the lightning strike right at his paws, something which amused him greatly. As the two turned back toward his hiding place, Ratfur straightened his face, forming his features into something more appropriate, which he hoped accurately resembled a look of worry. Once glance at Blackwolf had the skinny tom skittering to the other side of Shadeclaw, using the other warrior as a protective shield between him and the other tom's dangerously dark mood. In fact, it would probably be better if he lingered more than a few pawsteps behind the other two warriors.
Green eyes glanced down at the bundle of herbs resting delicately at his paws. His first impulse was to take it for himself, but almost instantly his mind was drawn to the lightning bolt that had nearly hit the large black warrior. No, I think I'll let them take it. He was not in any mood to get fried today. Nudging it with a paw, he rolled it out of NightClan territory and into the open expanse that was StarClan's Claws. Without another look back, he turned and vanished into the marshes of his own territory, following, as always, the pawsteps of another.
Hailstrike Icy eyes watched as the NightClan patrol left, her jaws still parted in a snarl. For a moment longer, suspecting a trick of some sort, she stared in the direction of their territory; then, satisfied that they were not about to return, redirected her attention to her apprentice. One look at him had her heart falling like a stone sinking into the depths of the Sky Pools. She could have lasted several lifetimes without seeing the return of that blank expression on his face and the dull sheen that had covered bright, lively eyes. As she watched, he lowered his head, slowly sinking to the ground as if he was following that stone into the depths of the pool, his movements almost graceful in a haunting way. The sight of him like that hurt more than any wound Shadeclaw could possibly inflict on her body. Don't stand and stare, Hailstrike snapped herself out of her own daze. That doesn't help anyone.
Jolted into action by her rather imperious thoughts, the she-cat crossed the short distance between them in a few long strides. Forcing her own emotions behind a blank slate - she could deal with them later, once Granitepaw was back on solid ground - StoneClan's devoted warrior ran an assessing gaze over her apprentice's battered body before giving him a quick lick on the head in an attempt to get through the fog that appeared to be clouding his unresponsive mind. Her voice as steady and firm as always, for she knew that consistency and stability would play an important role in his life while he recovered from this dramatic turn of events, Hailstrike meowed, "Back on your paws, Granitepaw. We need to get you back to camp. Where does it hurt the most?" She found that she meant it in both the emotional and physical sense, though she doubted that her apprentice would pick up on that. In any case, she thought she already knew the answer. "You have come so far in the past moons, far enough to remember that importance is not based on the fights you win and the battles you lose. Do not let this one break you; it is what he wants and what he expects. You are far too resilient to let that happen. You've recovered from his actions once, and you can do it again. This only makes the victory sweeter in the end."
Once she was sure that her words had sunk in as far as they were going to, Hailstrike commented briskly, "I'm going to go and gather the herbs--" And let you try to regain some composure. "--I will be right back." On agile feet, she raced back over to the bundles of herbs, managing to balance both of them in her mouth at the same time, though it felt as though they would fall out with the slightest movement. Returning to her apprentice, Hailstrike nudged him carefully into a standing position. Blue eyes analyzed him critically, trying to decide if he could walk on his own, before deciding that she would not wound his pride by not giving him a chance. "Come on, Granitepaw. Let's go home."
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Post by Fawn on Nov 18, 2012 5:29:05 GMT -5
Tired. He just felt tired and empty, as though a hundred moons of working so hard had passed, and the strength had been flung from his body like a mouse into a fox's jaws. The words of a cat familiar to him, with her piercingly blue eyes and her commanding tone that had become such a comfort to him - her words richocheted off the wall of isolation and self-pity he'd placed in front of himself. They went everywhere but into his conscious mind, his eyes blankly staring, the ghost of an ear-twitch the only signal he'd even recognized her voice. There was a pause, and the apprentice's heartbeat slowed back down to it's normal pace, but a part of him was wishing it would just slow to a complete stop.
"You have come so far in the past moons, far enough to remember that importance is not based on the fights you win and the battles you lose. Do not let this one break you; it is what he wants and what he expects. You are far too resilient to let that happen. You've recovered from his actions once, and you can do it again. This only makes the victory sweeter in the end."
Recovered? Recovered? That had been no recovery, he realized now, that had been a temporary bliss, a numbness in between the pain. A brief respite and nothing more. So he had once been, a depressed, emotionally disconnected creature who knew nothing anymore of trust and friendship, so once again he shall be. Though the words she spoke were honest - he could tell by the tone, whether he was consciously or unconsciously aware of it - Granitepaw couldn't help but think that actions spoke louder than words. Yes he had overcome plenty of hurdles. His leg had even healed magnificently, his back legs a hundred times stronger then they'd been a few moons ago, and yet even with that handicap over and done with, victory over Shadeclaw, self-worth, the highest praise he could earn from his mentor - those were all things that eluded him.
At last the apprentice stirred, his face losing it's blank look as it shifted, like wet sand before a tide, into a look of grimness, as though someone he'd been close to had died. He wanted more than anything to say how sorry he was, to apologize from the depths of his heart to Hailstrike for being her first and worst apprentice. Granitepaw prayed that she could forgive him for being so stupid, for being so reckless and to have wasted all those wonderful, tiresome, agonizing, joyful moons they'd spent training and becoming friends. He didn't feel that he deserved such forgiveness, but the thought of having let her down so stupendously was tearing him apart.
It took a while for the words to come; like a dying man's last breath, they pushed up through his throat, drifted past his bloodied teeth and to the back of the she-cat he was following.
"I'm sorry."
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Nov 20, 2012 18:37:33 GMT -5
They always said that eyes were the window to the soul, that more often than not the eyes displayed the inner workings of a feline more than their words or body language ever could. She had first heard it about midway through her apprentice-ship, and at that point, decided that reading eyes was an ability worthy of nurturing. Her reasoning had been that it would help in a fight, or at the very least help her communicate easier with her clanmates. It turned out that this was easier said than done, something that frustrated the apprentice beyond belief; she was used to skills coming to her with minimal trouble. In the end, she had ended up discarding the technique as relatively useless due to her lack of talent in that particular area. But Granitepaw's eyes told her more than he realized, so much more than she had ever been able to read in any other cat's eyes. Perhaps the trick was knowing the feline? Perhaps... She mused, turning away to lead the tom back to camp, the herbs in her mouth.
His failure had all but crushed the apprentice; Hailstrike did not need to see the blank gaze to know that much. It showed in his slumped shoulders and hanging head, in the way he carried himself with paws all but dragging across the ground with every step. Silence fell as they walked, something that did not surprise her. In fact, she found herself grateful for the quiet, for it allowed her to try and sort out her own thoughts before reporting back to Fallingstar and Falconleap, as they would no doubt hear about this. With the emotions tucked away into a small corner of her mind, she could give the most accurate report possible; Hailstrike refused to be one of those emotional warriors who made important reports worthless due to their clouded emotions.
As her paws carried her away from the scene, she could feel her racing heart calming down and her breathing begin to level out. Though she let her sense of awareness spread, the warrior dutifully kept tabs on the grave apprentice tailing her. She did not expect to hear anything apart from quiet breathing and pawsteps. Which was why the soft voice, almost inaudible, surprised her.
What surprised her more - and knowing his current mood, it probably should not have started her so much - was the message it carried.
Hailstrike slowed, letting him catch up to her, before starting off again at the same pace as him. Icy blue eyes swivelled to watch the figure beside her, and an indescribable sadness filled her. This was the same apprentice who had practically been prancing to the border earlier in the day, bright and happy. They had been talking about his warrior name, reminiscing about the past experiences that had made her life all the more pleasant. He had laughed and teased her for waking up late, a matter that now seemed rather trivial in comparison. She had responded with a comment about the name Granitehead. Was that really only earlier today? It seemed like a moon ago; the atmosphere had fallen so far in such a short amount of time.
The rocky outcrop that was the welcome sight of a familiar camp came into view, and the patrol of two neared it. One had her head held high, two bundles of precious herbs carried delicately in powerful jaws. Her steps her firm, her pace brisk. But her ice blue eyes were troubled. Beside her was a slightly smaller tom, his figure lean. His head hung and his paws dragged on the ground; the signs of an utterly defeated cat. As they neared the rocks, the she-cat stopped the younger tom, pausing to set down her important cargo before turning to him. Meeting his blank gaze, she said one sentence. "You have nothing to be sorry about." Then, after picking up her herbs, she lead the way into camp. It was a successful failure.
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