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@ashblaze

r i p p e d e a r

senior warrior, stoneclan

The sun had been sitting in the sky for some time now. Rippedear placed it at mid-morning, but he wasn't quite sure. Ever since the battle, he visited the medicine den for painkilling herbs and slept them off, the ache in his ears and the pain in his sides receding slightly only to flare back up again. He wondered if something in his head had been knocked loose, considering he had such horrible headaches from time to time now. 

Rippedear had found himself a rock in the sunshine and napped in the open air, enjoying the contrast of cool rock on his injured flank and warm sun on his fur. It was the little things he lived for now. He had never felt quite so old before, but even now he still wasn't old enough to retire. How many more moons of warriorhood would he subject himself to?

Oh, who was he kidding? Rippedear loved it. He rolled over to expose his other side and licked the red lines crisscrossing the stripes in his fur when he read a rumble. Twitching an ear, it happened again, and he realized that his stomach was asking for food. Loudly. Casting a glance to the rather small fresh-kill pile, he growled in minor discontent and rolled off of his rock.

It was the duty of a warrior to restock the dwindling food supply. What newly minted, young warrior could he drag with him today? Poking his nose in the warriors den, he laid eyes on a longfurred grey tom.

"Ashblaze," he mewed into the cat's ear, prodding him awake with words and with paws. "C'mon. We're going hunting."

[Deleted]

Ashblaze
Warrior of Stoneclan

Ashblaze followed the scent of the rather fat mouse he was tracking on silent paws, making sure not to disturb a single pebble on the barren ground. Any shift of earth could alert all of the prey in the surrounding area. It seemed that he was at the plateaus again, but he wasn’t sure. He went there so often, it seemed, but it was a little different every time. The catch was tail-lengths away from his paws, completely unaware of its impending death. The tom's grey coat blended with the monotonous-looking boulders around him; the moment was perfect. He crouched down, bunching his muscles for the leap...

A flash of ginger fur bolted out with a ferocious yowl, scrambling towards the mouse. Emberstone was facetiously trying to catch the little creature, and effectively ruining their entire hunting trip. Ashblaze sat back with an annoyed huff, watching his brother dance around in idiotic leaps. But then something happened. Emberstone carelessly slipped on gravel and tumbled over the side, hooking himself onto the edge of the cliff with frantic paws. The grey tom's eyes narrowed into slits, approaching the  scene with interest.

How funny it was, to see the strongest and most promising of the litter dangling above a deathly drop like a dying rabbit, his legs kicking at the air in panic. With a small chuckle, Ashblaze sat down by the edge, watching the spectacle while his brother yowled for help. Instead of aiding his only remaining sibling, the young warrior closed his eyes and enjoyed the wonderful chorus of mewls, yowls, and the grating sounds of claws against rock, all under the surprisingly warm sun. Starclan did not seem to intend to interfere. Not today, not now.

Moments later, he opened his eyes, hearing Emberstone begin to slide off of his only chance for survival. An eerie indifference covered the tom's face as he listened to the last time he would ever hear family calling his name. It was rather chilling actually, echoing in the caverns of his ears, and strangely becoming raspier, older, and gruffer. The ground underneath his grey paws turned to black water, gurgling up and swallowing him into pitch shadows.

Then a prod. And another. Ashblaze opened his ghostly eyes and looked around the den, seeing that he was awakened by Rippedear. How lovely. Apparently the warrior wanted him for a hunting party, and there was little chance of sending him to go find someone else to bother. With a wide yawn, the younger warrior rose to his paws, stretching his back. When he glanced over himself, he immediately fixed several scruffs of fur that were sticking out to his annoyance. He hated when his pelt would not lay flat. Quickly finishing, he turned back to what looked more like an elder than a warrior and nodded, ready to bound off on a hunt in the real world, "Very well." 

[Deleted]

r i p p e d e a r

senior warrior, stoneclan

Rippedear padded out of the camp, relishing in the feeling of being back in his territory. The battle was fierce, but he had never felt more alive than he did when he was fighting for his home. Each tiny pebble and blade of grass belonged to them, to StoneClan, again, and the valley had five Clans once again. He turned back to make sure the younger warrior was following him, and then struck out through the territory, unsure of where to hunt.

"Ashblaze," he mewed, slowing down to fall into step beside the grey tom, "Where do you think we should go hunting?" Rippedear felt the fresh-kill pile could use some mouse or similar animal, but he didn't mind birds or even the occasional lizard. He figured that since he dragged the other tom out of bed, he might as well allow him to pick the hunting spot.

Rippedear almost felt bad for the younger cats who hadn't experienced the battle. Fighting for the rights of the entire Clan had brought him to appreciate Clanhood even more. He was grateful to Hawkstar and Wolfclaw, both for their leadership and for their friendship. The battle had drawn the entire Clan together. Petty arguments were set aside and everyone agreed on one thing: they needed their home back. It was rare enough for that to happen, and now the younger generation of the Clan could not experience the closeness that such a melding brought. As much as battles were horrible, they were also a blessing.

Perhaps Starclan was in the whole thing, after all.

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The young tom padded along, trailing silently after the old warrior on light paws. His fur swished gently with the rhythm of his movements. It was interesting for him to watch how the other male walked, seemingly filled with pride. He could see it: the way his paws touched the earth, the way his head and tail were held. Ashblaze contrasted him sharply, his body relaxed and iced gaze indifferent to their surroundings, and to most everything.

His stride failed to falter as the other slowed down to reach his side. Upon being addressed, he let a quiet “Hmm?” with a quick glance to Rippedear. Ashblaze smirked at the question. “Sky Springs would be most practical around this time of day. I suppose it is best we check the far side of the springs, where any noise from the camp and wandering clanmates won’t disturb the prey. I do not know what we will find there, but a thirsty piece of soon-to-be freshkill is almost guaranteed.” With a glance around their surroundings, he turned their direction towards the springs, continuing in silence.


It would be unlike Ashblaze to strike up a friendly conversation. His personality was almost always solitary and not engaging, but this did not bring any trouble to his soul. If he needed to answer or address something, he would do so without hesitation, but jovial banter was not his strength. He couldn’t help it either. As a ‘paw, he had stayed away from unfriendly faces and found himself alone in the end. Perhaps that explained his indifference to his brother’s death. Ashblaze did not know, nor did he care. He was the way he was, and that was enough for him. As he moved, the slightly moist scent of their destination reached his senses, announcing that their arrival at the destination would come shortly.

[Deleted]

r i p p e d e a r

senior warrior, stoneclan

"Sky Springs would be most practical around this time of day. I suppose it is best we check the far side of the springs, where any noise from the camp and wandering clanmates won’t disturb the prey. I do not know what we will find there, but a thirsty piece of soon-to-be freshkill is almost guaranteed.”

Rippedear nodded agreeably. "Sky Springs sounds like an excellent idea! I've always enjoyed the peace and quiet around the area."

Ashblaze seemed like an interesting young warrior. He didn't remember much of the cat as an apprentice, but he seemed capable enough. There certainly was a reason that he was made a warrior. Then a thought crossed the senior warrior's mind. When was Ashblaze made a warrior? He didn't remember the ceremony at all, and normally he liked to pay attention to those. He seemed to remember something about death surrounding the tom, but he was likely wrong.

"How long have you been a warrior, Ashblaze?" he asked, trotting along. They had almost reached the Sky Springs; Rippedear could smell the crisp water, but he did want the lapse in his memory filled.