jaggedheart
JUST PASSING BY
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Post by jaggedheart on Jan 3, 2013 0:33:07 GMT -5
The jet black cat peered from underneath his paws. No cats were in sight of his pale yellow gaze. Of course, he didn't really care. The quiet was almost peaceful. The gathering was in session making many of the cats attend and the others to stay and protect the camp. Jaggedheart stood, streched and sighed. Nothing was happening. No action. Not even anything twitched. The tom made his way towards the fresh kill pile taking a peace of prey off the pile. A mouse to his distaste. He side but brough it back towards where he'd been sleeping moments before. A ate greedily, watching the camp warily. No movement. Not a sound. It was peaceful.
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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 Jan 3, 2013 9:12:03 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;] Perhaps that was one good quality of having a white pelt. Black fur, or any other non-white color for that matter, did not give that cat any chance to blend in with their surroundings during Leaf-Bare. A smirk flickered across his lips. He could not hunt in the shadows very well, but in Leaf-Bare, it was very easy to ghost through the territory unseen. If not for his briliant red eyes, then no cat would even give him a second look. LightningClan was full of white cats. But he adored the color of his eyes. It was another quality of his that set him apart from all of the other cats, except for his sister, Cherrypool. No cat shared his brilliance. No cat shared his hidden bloodlust. And no cat shared his eyes, for Cherrypool's were a deeper red than his.
White was much more of a dramatic color too. Everything showed up on white, ranging from the smallest speck of dirt to the beautiful splash of crimson blood. And that was the color combination that he loved the most. Red on white. It drew him in like a moth to a flame, and the more he watched it, the harder it was for his eyes to pull away. Irritation flickered through him as he made his way back toward camp. He needed to indulge himself; the desire was harder to control with the passing day, and very rarely had he ever gone this long without it. Unsheathed claws sunk into the snow as he strode forward on long legs, tail curling in the air behind him. Reassured that he was alone in this desolate landscape, he allowed himself to imagine that the snow beneath his forepaws was flesh instead. Warm flesh. If he curled his paws a little more, digging in deeper, he would break the skin. He could almost feel liquid ruby spilling out over his paws, dyeing his white fur red. Eyes snapped open, flickering down only briefly at his unsheathed claws. They were pink, as always. Often he found himself wondering if that was due to the same oddity that gave him his lovely red eyes, or if the blood of both his enemies and victims would permanently linger on them. But no matter. That did not affect him in any way; claws were just his tools, his weapon of choice.
Claws sheathed and bloodlust gnawing at him almost as much as his hunger, Whiteshade entered camp, the epitome of a normal warrior. Red eyes lazily surveyed the whitened area, landing on a jet black figure off to the side, before flicking over to the fresh-kill pile by his side. In his opinion, LightningClan could always afford to give up a piece of their prey, even a small one, to satiate his own hunger. However, obligation and expectations dictated otherwise, and today, he had not yet earned the right to pick a piece of prey off the pile. A shame. Briefly, he considered claiming that scrawny shrew for himself regardless, but thought of the subsequent argument that would no doubt follow caused him to decide that it was not worth it. Letting out a soft sigh, the tom directed his paws toward the black feline, whom he recognized as Jaggedheart when he drew closer. The warrior had a reputation for being cold, almost indifferent, and while that quality did not intrigue him, he found the tom to be, for the most part, bearable. Even if they sat in stony silence.
"Hello Jaggedheart," He greeted politely, dipping his head slightly at the younger warrior. "I hope that you are well. Do you mind if I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, he settled himself beside the other tom, tail curling in the air before wrapping neatly around his paws. "I was thinking before, I hope you don't mind if I share my thoughts with you," He began a moment later. "I'm curious. What does a young cat such as yourself think about RainClan's unfulfilled debt to us?" The words rolled easily off his tongue, as if RainClan had been the subject of his thoughts. He found himself wondering just how much Jaggedheart knew of that topic; after all, the tom had been there when RainClan had sought sanctuary with them after the large rain flooded nearly all of their territory. Did the ebony warrior recognize the possibilities, the chanches, that they had with a clan in their debt? |
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jaggedheart
JUST PASSING BY
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Post by jaggedheart on Jan 3, 2013 14:38:53 GMT -5
The pale gaze of the young cat stared towards the older warrior. He nodded a greeting then grimaced at the thought of sharing his spot with this cat. 'Whatever' he thought moodily finishing his mouse quickly before the white cat could eye ball it. Hearing the tom words he frowned remembering that day. Of course he had just become a warrior, the RainClan cats had been there just before his ceremony. "What do I think of it?" he murmured softly thinking as he said his words "If RainClan does indeed have a debt to fill, they will need to pay it in some sort. Maybe in prey or I don't know really". He gave the warrior a soft smile. "I guess the optimum and ideal thing having a clan in our debt Sandstar needs to come forth". He sighed at hi s words. He had never been much of a talker so this was fairly large for him. He gazed at the red eyes of the other cat and flinched slightly, flicking his ebony tail side to side.
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Jan 4, 2013 20:19:51 GMT -5
Nightkit ~~~~~~~~ The overly serious kit had been lying at the entrance of the nursery, blue eyes scouring the camp thoughtfully as he lay with his paws tucked beneath him. He should probably have been asleep by now, but the little black and white tom didn't cat. He was content surveying and thinking. There were no higher ups to watch, as they were off at the gathering, but the little kit didn't mind so much. This gave his blue eyes the opportunity to see how the cats behaved without the authorities here.
He noticed a warrior by the name of Jaggedheart nearby, eating what seemed to be a mouse. He watched carefully, wondering if this tom's attitude shifted at all when others were not around. Something stirred near the entrance, taking Nightkit's attention away from the black tom, to see one of the many white cats. This one was Whiteshade. He watched as Whiteshade moved towards Jaggedheart. Now the little kit was interested. He listened to the words exchanged, but as Whiteshade finished speaking, the kit's paws were moving. He slowed to a stop not far from them, blue eyes bright as he spoke.
"RainClan has a debt they owe us. A debt is to be repaid, as a sign of respect. Should RainClan decided not to repay it, they decide we are not worth their respect." It was shocking to some that such a young tom would be saying this, or looking at each as though he were completely unfazed by the obvious age gap. "Either they repay it. Or we attack and claim our respect." [/size]
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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 Jan 4, 2013 23:50:07 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;] Though he knew that he should have lowered his general expectations by now, he found himself disappointed once again. Jaggedheart's answer lacked both insight and opinion, two qualities which made any conversation worthwhile. Of course RainClan would have to repay the debt. Of course it was an ideal situation for them to be in. Admittedly, the question had been rather open ended, but he had hoped that the other warrior would offer more than just the bare minimum. Like a young kit learning to speak, the black cat sounded as though he had merely repeated phrases spoken by older warriors who better understood the situation. There was no evidence of any free thought in the answer he had received. Why was it ideal? What could they possibly use the debt for? He had not asked those questions, but he had hoped that he would not have to. Obviously, he had been far too optimistic.
Hiding his exhasperation with a polite nod and slight upward curve of his lips, Whiteshade prepared to continue the conversation. However, another voice spoke up just as the words were about to roll off his tongue, and he clicked his jaws shut, red eyes turning toward the source. It was a kit, though the higher pitched voice could have told him that just as well. As an intense crimson gaze sized up the small thing as it spoke, he looked for any identifying features, and his gears turned for a moment before they produced a name. Nightkit.
Two qualities about the kit struck him as rather odd, not necessarily in a bad way, and they caught his interest. The first was the way he seemed perfectly at ease conversing with two cats moons older than him, one of whom was startingly different from the rest in appearance. Kits tended to avoid him, for red eyes were far more intimidating than a warm brown or familiar blue. Second, the youngest ebony tom gave an answer closer to the insightful one that he had been looking for. He made the answer his own and added his own analysis to it, something remarkable for a cat his age. Those words could have easily been spoken by a warrior rather than a member of the newest generation. Giving the small thing a rather appraising look, he decided that he would keep an eye on the kit - Nightkit is his name? He had potential, and if he continued to show promise, then Whiteshade might have to find time to befriend the kit and mold him into a warrior befitting of his intelligence level. However, there was plenty of time for that.
Tail tip twitching, he shifted his gaze back to Jaggedheart momentarily before giving the kit his attention once more. "How old are you, Nightkit?" He asked briefly, before continuing, "That was a very insightful answer. Perhaps you would like to join our conversation?" Red eyes returned to piece the warrior beside him, watching the other tom for a moment. "We can all agree that it is ideal to have RainClan in our debt, I think. Numerous advantages have become avaliable for us to use because of it; if I recall, there are no terms on the debt. Should we decide to ask for RainClan's help or support, then I feel that they are obligated to give it," Whiteshade paused, eyes flicking down to the kit. "That depends, of course, on whether or not they respect both the debt and us. For the sake of the conversation, let us assume that they do. " He paused again for a moment, taking a breath before asking smoothly, "I'm curious. If you could decide how RainClan would fulfill their debt to us, what would you ask of them? And why?" Turning his head slightly, he glanced at Jaggedheart, including him in the question even though his gaze had been on the kit when he had spoken it. |
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jaggedheart
JUST PASSING BY
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Post by jaggedheart on Jan 5, 2013 3:11:47 GMT -5
The tom watched the almost disappointment in the older warriors face. Of course Jaggedheart was still a young a warrior and his thoughts were captured on many other things. He watched the other tom intently then sighed turning away. When a small pitched voice reached his sensitive receptors he frowned, then turned to look at a kit that had spoken words like a warrior. The other warrior seemed to have a keen interest in the young kit named Nightkit from what he heard. He truly didn't care about the debt RainClan owed to the clan and when he hear the toms question he sighed. 'Just go away' he thought moodily, tail flicking.
"In my opinion" he murmured getting up and shaking his black pelt "RainClan should give us something valuable. Maybe prey, privileges in their hunting grounds or just plain helping LightningClan. Excuse me, I will be going to rest in the warrior den"
He nodded towards the two giving them a soft smile. He didn't care much for conversation making him always shy away from other when they wanted to talk. He didn't care. He slowly padded away tail waving and ear twitching.
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Jan 5, 2013 21:35:06 GMT -5
Nightkit ~~~~~~ The little black kit blinked up evenly at Whiteshade. "Four moons old, sir." He answered the white tom, before listening as Whiteshade continued on, asking what Nightkit would do if he could decide what the debt be repaid as. Nightkit thought for a moment, calmly sitting down and curling his tail around his paws. When Jaggedheart spoke up, his ears pricked, and blue eyes watched, slightly confused as the other tom left them. Nightkit's eyes didn't leave the other warrior for a while, until finally, he turned back to Whiteshade, blue against red.
"Jaggedheart's idea was... Interesting. Hunting privileges would be good in the middle of Leafbare. But lotsa warriors are saying we've lasted through the worst of it, and prey will only get better." His young age could be seen through his choice of words at times, as he didn't have the full vocabulary of a warrior yet. What? He was only four moons old. "What if we... Kept them on the line, held it over their noses. At any moment, they'd be required to answer out beck and call. If we were attacked, RainClan would have no choice but to help us."
His blue gaze blinked evenly at the white tom. "This would not only give us an advantage over RainClan, who would be in our debt, but over any other Clan the decided they want to try attacking LightningClan. Surprise, we've got forced allies." He said simply, wondering what the white tom was thinking. Most warrior just rolled their eyes and swatted him way when he started speaking. He was, after all, just a silly kit. "Sorry I ruined your conversation, Whiteshade, sir." He added, regarding Jaggedheart's departure. [/size]
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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 Jan 5, 2013 23:10:10 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;] It was a shame that the youth of his clan did not care about the politics and the delicate balance that bound the clans together, which, on the surface, seemed to consist of an unspoken agreement for peace. Most cats seemed to accept this observation, and while part of them knew that war was inevitable, they did not want to look deeper into clan politics in an attempt to discover the cause. In doing so, they dismissed potentially worthwhile lessons and ended up ignoring the signs of an approaching battle until it was right under their noses. During his time in LightningClan, he had observed the way that the clans regarded each other, the subtle shows of power as they tested the strength of their neighbors. Cats were not driven by a love of peace and desire to create a utopia for all of them; instead, they strove to better their own clan, and in doing so, better their own lives. Keen eyes searched for signs of weakness in others, and in the same way a hunter would catch a rabbit, they pounced on any indication of frailty.
The larger of the two onyx toms beside him dismissed himself with a brief nod toward them. Returning the gesture with a polite lowering of his own chin, the albino watched the departing figure of Jaggedheart. "It was pleasant conversing with you, Jaggedheart," He called silkily, polite as always. Though he hid it well, he felt little disappointment about the abrupt end to their conversation - if he could call it that. The other tom had proved that he was not nearly intellectually challenging enough to amuse his own brilliant mind, and as a result, their conversations would never become stimulating or worthwhile. He was willing to let that warrior go, for he was of no use to him.
If it was up to him, he would not use this debt lightly. For his own amusement, he would watch RainClan squirm uncomfortably as time drew on, and the debt remained unpaid. They were obligated to repay LightningClan regardless of the request, and that was a tactical advantage. Two clans were considerably harder to defeat than one, and that advantage could be used both offensively and defensively. He could barely imagine the sheer beauty that would result from a two-on-one fight. All of that liquid crimson filling his vision. It would drip from unsheathed claws. It would bathe the landscape, dampening the ground beneath his paws. It would coat the fighting felines. Its scent would taint the air, distinct and sharp. Small streams of scarlet would form in the dips. A piece of artwork that only he would enjoy.
The kit spoke up, and he blinked, bringing his focus back toward the present and reality, rather than wistful speculation. Upon hearing its opinion on Jaggedheart's brief idea, he flicked his tail in acknowledgement of a decent, if not painfully optimistic point. "We have no control over the weather," He found himself stating briefly, rather indifferently. "Therefore, it would be unwise to claim that the worst is over until prey has become so plentiful that days can pass without needing to replenish the pile." With a subtle twitch of his ear, he gestured for the small thing to continue, which it did after a moment's hesitation. Much to his pleasant surprise, the kit touched the idea thad had lingered in his own mind but a few moments earlier. An intelligence like this could not go to waste, particularly since he had found it in a kit. Innocent and naive, they were the most impressionable of all clan cats, and if he could keep this one close, he would have a very powerful and intelligent weapon at his disposal. And why would he want to do that? For his own amusement, of course. Most cats were far from earning his true attention for more than a few moments, and he could not dismiss those that surpassed that limit as though he had not discovered them.
If conversations continued in the same way, befriending it would be of little consequence. Though molding its mind would require careful, the process itself would no doubt be rather simple. He would play it by ear. Red eyes surveyed the kit as it spoke, and he developed the impression that the kit would want recognition for his ideas and perhaps a nudge in the right idea. Kits were often ignored by older warriors who deemed themselves superior to the smaller beings - and in most cases they were - but he was keenly aware of the irritation those actions caused. He had thought up good ideas and simple solutions for not so simple problems as a kit, and the way older cats brushed aside hours of careful thought had never ceased to annoy him. Perhaps this kit would be of the same mindset. Almost as an after thought, the black cat apologized for the other warrior's departure, which he dismissed with a flick of his tail and a short, "Jaggedheart is a warrior and a grown cat. Within reason, of course, he can do what he wants. You cannot control him, and so you should not fault yourself for decisions he makes that are completely out of your control."
Momentarily pausing, he indicated a change of subject, before continuing, "From your answer, I can infer that you have a respectable understanding of clan debts and realize that it is not something to be taken lightly, for the possibilities that arise from having control over another group of cats can prove to be very useful if utilized correctly. That is a very interesting idea, Nightkit." Silence fell, somewhat companionable, as he took the time to briefly collect his thoughts before he would continue the conversation. Where did he want to direct the kits thoughts? Which questions would give him the most information about the kit yet still remain carefully disguised as to not raise suspicion? Decisions provided a considerable amount of information about a cat, and he figured that having the ability to read a cat based on their answers to a few key questions would prove to be useful. Finding those few questions would be the challenge; however, he was more than willing to accept it. In regards to the kit and the present conversation, he decided that he would not attempt this. Not so soon in the game.
"Am I correct in my belief that you have a lot of thoughts in that head of yours, Nightkit?" He asked after that brief pause, the question half rhetorical, for he continued on, "In the event that this is true, I trust that you must have questions about the world around you. Should you wish to ask me a few, the time to do so would be now." Normally, he was not so generous as to go spewing information left and right; instead, he preferred to hoard it and keep the advantage to himself. Although knowledge was power, he found himself curious as to the inner workings of the young cat's mind.
OOC: Muse blast!
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Jan 6, 2013 0:25:47 GMT -5
Nightkit The little black and white kit's blue eyes looked up at the white tom as he spoke. Upon his first question, the little kit nodded his head slightly. It was true that the little tom was often thinking about something. He focused his attention on what the tom was saying, thrilled that someone seemed to actually be listening to what he had to say. Suddenly, Whiteshade asked him if he had any questions about the world, and that if he did, he could ask him. Nightkit's blue eyes widened suddenly. He had the opportunity to ask a real warrior anything he wanted. But what?
The little kit scrambled for the question he'd ask. That one question, the one that had been pressing him the most. "A Gathering... It is said it is a night of peace... Do all cats who attend respect it? And... Do the Clans themselves truly respect it? In a night of peace, you would think there would be no signs of aggression, no signs of dominance... But it simply cannot be, can it? Each Clan pushes to show their strength, even at a time of supposed peace..?" He spoke, looking up at Whiteshade, hoping he didn't disappoint the older tom. [/size]
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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 Jan 11, 2013 23:29:11 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;] As it spoke, kit looked up at him, blue eyes alight with something reminiscent of hope, and an equally intense, crimson gaze met their stare. White ears flicked, easily shielding his thoughts from the younger tom's searching glance. How mundane. The kit could have asked about anything, yet it had chosen to direct the conversation toward Gatherings. He could think of numerous topics which were infinitely more interesting and thought provoking than the monthy meetings that were little more than a waste of time and a good night's sleep. Of all the cats who were chosen to attend, the tom had often found himself wondering how many of them genuinely cared about the state of the other clans for a reason apart from judging strength. Unless the feline in question had befriended a cat from a different clan, he doubted that very many fell into that category. Regardless of his less-than-generous opinions, he had no choice but to answer the question; to do otherwise would be counterproductive, to say the least.
"StarClan is stronger than all of the clans combined," He answered the first question, voice flat despite the riddle-like quality of the reply. "Causing conflict at a Gathering is equivalent to provoking and risking StarClan's ire." Whether or not every cat believed in their starry ancestors was a different question. It was one that he did not have the answer to and did not care enough to investigate. He was willing to bet, however, that the hearts of the majority of cats were claimed by StarClan. Was his, too? He had never given it much thought, for his mind was always occupied with ideas concerning the tangible world. There was so much to consider, to speculate, and though he tended to fixate on a certain red substance, he did not forget about the rest of the mysteries. StarClan, in all its divine mysteriousness, had never captured his curiousity in quite the same way. Perhaps it would, one day.
"Regardless," The white tom continued, tail curling in the air behind him. "There are signs of subtle displays of power. No clan will pass up the chance to show off. No clan wants to look weak in front of the others. That alone is practically begging for an attack." The trick to recognizing the indications for what they were was knowing where to look. Since Gatherings were fairly busy events, that task could either be impossible or painfully easy. For him, it was the latter. Obviously, the cats who were on the receiving end of his piercing gaze included the leaders, who seemed to speak the same words every time they leapt atop Great Rock. Empty words about their clan faring well and remaining strong, about the new warriors and apprentices, about border skirmishes. Those were superficial. But dig deeper, analyze the way the fur hung off their bones, the thickness of their pelts and the strength in their eyes, and the truth was hard to miss. The other cats of the patrol, apprentices and warriors alike, all gave off signs of a clan's well-being. Nice grooming did not remove the strained glint that appeared in the eyes of a starving warrior or an apprentice constantly under attack from another clan. Weakness was hard to hide from experienced eyes.
Though he may have not answered the question to the best of his ability - he had left out numerous details in favor of giving the kit a brief overview - Whiteshade finished talking, jaws shutting with a click as he waited for the next questions that would inevitably pour from the black tom's mouth. It was a kit, after all, and the tiny things had gained a reputation for their unending curiousity and everlasting energy. |
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Jan 12, 2013 0:32:59 GMT -5
Nightkit ~~~~~~ At the mention of StarClan, the kit's blue gaze flicked up to the sky. He hadn't even thought about that. It was true that, should there be a Clan of cats high above who've moved on from this life, and onto the next, it would be unwise to upset them. He was silent as Whiteshade finished speaking, his mind processing the information he'd just received. Slowly, blue eyes moved back down to the albino warrior before him, blue clashing with red once more as he met the warrior's gaze. He held it for a moment, silent, barely breathing. He knew he should refrain from asking another question... But there was a part of him that just couldn't help it.
His mouth opened slowly, and without shifting his gaze, he managed to blurt out. "Is battle... Fun?" He blinked his eyes slightly, before explaining. "Warriors often say that... That battle is a negative thing, that they don't like it... But there must be something... Exhilarating about it. More than just hunting. More than running with the wind in your fur... But thinking that you have turned something that is theoretically your equal... Into your prey, forcing them into that role, sometimes without their knowledge. There must be a sort of... Thrill in that. Isn't there?" [/size]
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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 Jan 14, 2013 18:22:47 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;] The mere thought of battle made his heart thud faster inside a hollow chest, the beats reverberating forcefully throughout him, making it very easy for him to imagine stepping out onto a bloody battlefield. There was the blood running beneath unsheathed claws, dyed pink from a combination of genes and the crimson liquid. There were the cries, of the wounded and the attackers, filling the air, shattering what might have been a peaceful, enjoyable silence. And the sheer power, the thrill, that came with pinning another cat and holding dagger-like claws to his throat. Watching his eyes widen as he comprehended what a vulnerable, weak position he was in. Yes. Battle was very fun.
"That," He meowed curtly, tail flicking through the air as he hid his bloodthirsty thoughts with practiced ease, "is a matter of opinion. I can think of cats who would ostracize you for even suggesting such a thing. At the same time, I can think of others who would, perhaps grudgingly, admit that they experience a thrill, an enjoyable one, in battle." He paused, pointedly avoiding answering the question with his own opinion. No cat could know how he lusted for battle, for the very same exhilarating sensation that the kit had just questioned. Prey quenched his thirst to a certain extent, but there was nothing quite like forcing a fellow predator into the role of prey. That cat might never have been his equal, but that cat had killed prey. He was a hunter. Whiteshade, in defeating him, was the better one. And prey does not beg.
Crimson eyes abruptly focused on the kit with a laser-like intensity as a stray thought caught his attention. "That is an interesting question," He spoke, picking his words with care. "I wonder, if you do not mind me asking, why did you choose that particular question? If I am not mistaken, most kits ask for ways to win the battle, not how it feels to be the victor. I believe that is rather insightful of you." Dipping his head slightly in a nod, he acknowledged his last point, easily hiding his curiousity in favor of showing how the kit had impressed him. What if the kit had a similar mindset to his own? That would certainly make his life interesting, and perhaps, far more enjoyable. |
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Jan 17, 2013 23:49:36 GMT -5
Nightkit ~~~~~~~ The black and white kit's blue eyes watched Whiteshade as the white warrior spoke. There was slight wonder in his eyes at the amount of information the little kit was obtaining. It was truly amazing to him, for someone to actually stop and give him some of their time, to teach him about the world. He hadn't had a chance to leave the camp yet, no matter how much he wanted to. He was tired of the nursery. There wasn't much in there that he hadn't processed, or thought about. It was all getting rather old if you asked him.
You could only imagine his enthusiasm at this scenario then, much like a child at Christmas. When Whiteshade finished speaking, the kit blinked, preparing to answer. "The honest truth, sometimes you can see it in their eyes. The lie. They tell you it's horrible, but you can tell that it isn't." He shrugged his little shoulders. He wasn't sure what to think about it, as he had never experienced it, due to his young age. He looked at the older tom again, before speaking. "Whiteshade, sir, I am not wasting your time, am I? I would hate to keep you from more important business." [/size]
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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 Jan 18, 2013 21:09:29 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/el6yhx.jpg] [/style] | [atrb=width,500,true][atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/miic29.jpg][style=padding-left: 5px; height: 259px;][style=height: 257px; width: 225px; overflow: auto; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; font-size: 13px; font-family: perpetua;]Eyes are the window to the soul. Unbidden, the thought flitted lightly across his consciousness at the kit’s answer, and the tom inclined his head slightly, flicking his tail. Due to his low opinion of kits and his subsequent decisions to avoid any feline of that age, he had little knowledge of their capabilities. After general observation, though, he had found it safe to assume that most were, intellectually, uninteresting. They were usually caught up in wrestling with each other and generally getting underfoot. However, that did not mean that a kit could not be observant. Idly, he wondered how the small thing had learned to separate a truth from a lie in the short time he had been alive, but he found that he did not care enough to ask. It did not matter to him if the grown cats around the small black one had a chronic lying problem.
The respect with which the kit addressed him did not go unnoticed. The first time, he had thought it had been something of a one-of-a-kind occurrence; after all, few kits had the decency to address their elders using ‘sir’. It seemed as though this kit was an exception, and honestly, he did not mind. Respect could take a cat a long way, a lesson that he had learned from a very young age. ”Perhaps,” He commented idly, raising his red-eyed gaze from the small black figure and turning to look back out over camp. ”As it is currently the middle of leaf-bare, prey is scarce. I expect that I will be enlisted in another hunting patrol soon—Ah yes, there’s Icepaw, see?” Indeed, the white apprentice was trotting lightly toward the pair, no doubt with a message for the albino warrior. ”I must go. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Nightkit.” Nodding to the younger tom, he rose to his paws in a fluid motion. Crimson eyes flicked from the kit to the approaching apprentice as he changed his focus. Already thinking of the failure that would no doubt await the hunting patrol, the ghost of LightningClan strode away, taking his leave as silently as he had arrived.
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