Post by Phoenix on Dec 23, 2013 14:07:14 GMT -5
Whiteshade
my secret side i keep
hid under
lock and key
One might have thought that, after such a definite defeat at the hands of StoneClan, the feline would have been more hesitant to approach the border of the victors' territory. Had he been any other cat, he might have been. But he was confident - beyond confident - in his ability to defend himself, and the threat of the neighboring clan's warriors had his lip curling, ever so slightly, in disgust rather than his legs quivering in fear. A lethal combination of boredom and faint curiosity had driven him here, the unfortunate mix a frequent side-effect after a particularly enjoyable fight. Compared to the beauty of the battlefield, what with its symphony of yowls and the flashing of claws and the fluid dance that he himself performed, his muscles working beautifully together as one as he leapt from one opponent to the next, normal life was exceedingly dull. Most of LightningClan had limped home to lick their wounds and tend to the dead, and ever since their defeat, an air of quiet grief had hung over the camp. It had all become so uninteresting.
Peering across the snow-covered land to the rocky terrain beyond, the senior warrior idly found himself wondering what had become of StoneClan. It did not take a stroke of genius to figure that the other clan would be quick to remark their borders and regain their strength, and Hawkstar had not disappointed him. Patrols were frequent; the strength of the scents could tell him that much. But the battle must have taken some sort of toll on their opponents as well, and he was curious to see the extent of that toll. Whiteshade himself had wounded his fair share of felines, StoneClan and TreeClan alike, before his own clan had called retreat. How many strong warriors did StoneClan have left? How much of their act was a bluff?
He was perfectly aware that the chances of him finding the answers to his musings were incredibly slim, but they were not questions that kept him awake at night. At the present, if he were to place the blame of that honor - his insomnia - on anything, he would give it to his boredom. But Whiteshade had hardly been a cat prone to a deep, peaceful sleep every night, for his mind was almost always too busy to rest long. He was not suited to these days of near inactivity at camp, and the emptiness that always filled him in the wake of a fight worsened it exponentially. So he had left, picked his way, phantom-like, across LightningClan's familiar territory, to stand on the border between his clan's and StoneClan's land. He had hoped that he would cross paths with a patrol.
Perhaps deliberately antagonizing those of the other clan so soon after his own had been defeated was not a particularly intelligent idea, but he wanted to play.
OOC: So rusty x.x
my secret side i keep
hid under
lock and key
- - -
One might have thought that, after such a definite defeat at the hands of StoneClan, the feline would have been more hesitant to approach the border of the victors' territory. Had he been any other cat, he might have been. But he was confident - beyond confident - in his ability to defend himself, and the threat of the neighboring clan's warriors had his lip curling, ever so slightly, in disgust rather than his legs quivering in fear. A lethal combination of boredom and faint curiosity had driven him here, the unfortunate mix a frequent side-effect after a particularly enjoyable fight. Compared to the beauty of the battlefield, what with its symphony of yowls and the flashing of claws and the fluid dance that he himself performed, his muscles working beautifully together as one as he leapt from one opponent to the next, normal life was exceedingly dull. Most of LightningClan had limped home to lick their wounds and tend to the dead, and ever since their defeat, an air of quiet grief had hung over the camp. It had all become so uninteresting.
Peering across the snow-covered land to the rocky terrain beyond, the senior warrior idly found himself wondering what had become of StoneClan. It did not take a stroke of genius to figure that the other clan would be quick to remark their borders and regain their strength, and Hawkstar had not disappointed him. Patrols were frequent; the strength of the scents could tell him that much. But the battle must have taken some sort of toll on their opponents as well, and he was curious to see the extent of that toll. Whiteshade himself had wounded his fair share of felines, StoneClan and TreeClan alike, before his own clan had called retreat. How many strong warriors did StoneClan have left? How much of their act was a bluff?
He was perfectly aware that the chances of him finding the answers to his musings were incredibly slim, but they were not questions that kept him awake at night. At the present, if he were to place the blame of that honor - his insomnia - on anything, he would give it to his boredom. But Whiteshade had hardly been a cat prone to a deep, peaceful sleep every night, for his mind was almost always too busy to rest long. He was not suited to these days of near inactivity at camp, and the emptiness that always filled him in the wake of a fight worsened it exponentially. So he had left, picked his way, phantom-like, across LightningClan's familiar territory, to stand on the border between his clan's and StoneClan's land. He had hoped that he would cross paths with a patrol.
Perhaps deliberately antagonizing those of the other clan so soon after his own had been defeated was not a particularly intelligent idea, but he wanted to play.
OOC: So rusty x.x
- - -
i feel it deep within
it’s just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster
it’s just beneath the skin
i must confess that i feel like a monster