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Post by Insidious on Dec 21, 2015 9:58:10 GMT -5
One life. It was almost funny how quickly his lifespan had fallen from its brief immortality. Almost, but not quite. Nobody knew what little of him remained. He didn't have the heart to tell Roselight, or Russethawk, because he knew it would only hurt them, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Someone, however, needed to know, and that would be Swanfeather. He could trust the medicine cat to keep word of his final life to herself. The two didn't always see eye to eye, but she was dedicated to her charge, and this was of the utmost importance; their differences could be put aside if only for a conversation.
Razorstar had meant to catch her before she left camp but, as was to be expected, something had come up that needed his attention and he had missed her. His stride was quick, purposeful - looking about with an edge of wariness because something, though at the moment, he didn't know what felt off - and he wanted to make sure that Swanfeather wasn't in any kind of trouble. He could blame his caution, his skepticism, on the fact that eight lives had been taken from him so untimely, but at the end of the day there was no right or wrong period of time to spend on each life. As long as he'd lost all of them defending RainClan, and fighting with his dying breath to at long last prove himself to his doubtful clan mates, then he had succeeded.
Swanfeather's scent grew stronger, as did the sickly sweet aroma of herbs; now, so near, he could better discern the faint scent that hung over them in the air, foreboding, suffocating, as none other than fox. Immediately, Razorstar's ears pulled forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt the need to call out for the medicine cat, but he wouldn't be so mouse-brained - any noise, no matter how minuscule, was too much.
From the corner of his eye he spotted her familiar pelt; he hadn't known himself to ever hold his breath above water, to feel his throat constrict painfully when nothing was harming him, but things had changed for him as a leader with one life remaining. When he saw the flash of orange, sprinting forward, a predator on the hunt with eyes for the medicine cat alone, he knew that there was a chance he would never return to RainClan camp alive.
Roselight would never hear that he loved her a final time. That, against all odds, she had broken through his rough exterior and found something worth knowing. Russethawk would never hear how thankful he was to have him in his life. Their moons as mentor-apprentice hadn't been easy, but it brought them closer, to the point of being brothers despite their blood, and he wouldn't trade that bond for anything in the world. There was, of course, his beautiful kittens, well into their apprenticeships and just beginning to truly get a feel for the life of a warrior. No child should have to grow up without a mother or father, and it physically pained him to imagine their faces when they heard the news.
It wasn't too late. Not yet. What mattered in this moment was that Swanfeather was in danger - and he could save her life. "Swanfeather, get out of the way!" His voice was loud, urgent, bellowing through the bushes and straight into the fox's ears. Its attention wavered briefly, only for mere seconds, but that was enough time for Razorstar to wedge himself between its path to Swanfeather, and to lash out with claws unsheathed and slice across its right shoulder. The fox yowled, drawing back, but it was far from over and, now, it had a new target.
Hellion & Fawn (because Rook needs those teeth poor Razor)
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Post by Hellion on Dec 28, 2015 17:56:19 GMT -5
Swanfeather
Winter 7th
The water that often gathered behind her den was frozen solid. The possible three inches of water wasn't useful to the she-cat anymore and only served as a warning sign. Leafbare was going to be difficult. Yesterday she caught sight of the small fresh-kill pile which only made her worry. This leafbare was going to be the hardest and likely the longest of her entire life.
With her water supply ruined from the cold, Swanfeather had instead gathered up some left over moss to go soak up some water. Even if the moss balls froze they could be thawed faster than a small collection of water. That duty prompted the she-cat to leave camp early in the day.
She walked alone, her apprentice remaining warm in their shared den with instructions to care for the elders before her return. It was in this lonely walk that Swanfeather often let her mind wander, she traveled the trail many times and didn't need to pay attention to make it there.
While her nose was smelling the sweet scent of moss. It didn't notice the sharp reek of fox heading her direction. Swanfeather had in the past feared for her life when she ventured out on her own. She wasn't a fighter but rather a defender and while she had faith in StarClan that when it was her time it would be swift, she didn't ever think it could be in the jaws of a fox.
Her ears flickered at the sound of the slow water but another sound caught her attention and that was the voice of her leader. Turning sharply the she-cat let out a yowl in surprise as Razorstar arrived in front of her. Her fur bristled and ears flattened as she let out a hiss toward the fox. The orange pelt was matted and likely signs of the fox starving. Fear filled her heart as she realized that she was likely the fox's target. That fear froze the she-cat behind her leader she didn't know what to do. Should she attempt to run and get help, but the likelihood of her getting away was slim. The fox looked desperate and angered enough to try and take her down.
all the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind
Word Count:: ---
Tag::@insertname
Notes:: ---
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Post by Insidious on Dec 28, 2015 20:49:31 GMT -5
"Go back -" He inhaled sharply as he veered away from the snap of the fox's jaw, "- to camp, now." He didn't have time to look at her. He didn't have time to communicate the urgency that plagued him, and the overwhelming fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach like stones. If he looked away, even for only a handful of seconds, the fox would take advantage of his sloppiness; if he died, there would be nobody to stop it from killing Swanfeather, too. Normally, he wouldn't have thought his medicine cat the type to respond well to orders - especially from the likes of an impure leader - but this was a rare situation, indeed, and he hoped she would have enough sense to know this wasn't the time nor the place to argue with him.
The fox swung, and he was too slow to evade its attack. Razorstar was thrown backwards, but he righted himself quickly, too quick for the fox to pin him down; he winced, his shoulder throbbing, but didn't hesitate to shove Swanfeather out of the way. Him and the fox had gotten drastically closer, and he knew she was afraid - if he could help it, this fight wouldn't get anywhere near her. Frankly, he hadn't the slightest clue why she was still here. He had commanded her to leave, though perhaps she was paralyzed by fear. He could understand, but at the time, he couldn't tolerate it, and so he tossed a brief, but purposeful glance over his shoulder.
Razorstar dove for the beast's face and managed to rake his claws across its cheek, but this only infuriated it further. When he drew away, it pursued, and he had nowhere to go except backwards - right towards Swanfeather - and that was the last thing he would do. The fox knocked the RainClan leader off balance, and he stumbled. It was a fatal mistake, and one he sadly couldn't correct.
His legs buckled, falling onto his back, and the breath was stolen from his lungs. He turned his head to the side, meeting Swanfeather's eyes - he was panicked, but he wouldn't ask for her help, wouldn't put her in danger, and made as much clear with a violent shake, a firm no. "You can't stay!" He was running out of time and he knew it, the fox knew it, Swanfeather surely knew it, and the fox wasn't going to give him time to make a thorough list of his goodbyes. "Go to camp, and warn everyone that it's on our territory - tell everyone that I'm... that I'm..." The fox would be upon him with a single bound, and he turned back to the predator sharply, scared, but determined. There wasn't enough time to come up with the words. There wasn't enough time for him and, soon, Swanfeather would know that, too - everyone would know he wasn't coming back to life. "... I'm sorry!"
Sorry that he didn't have another life. Sorry that he didn't tell them when he had a chance. Sorry that he had to die this way, so brutally, so mericelessly... he closed his eyes, and he swore that for a second, just a second, he could see the other side. He felt the moment that the fox closed in. He felt the moment when its teeth sunk into his neck but, after that, he felt nothing. He felt nothing as his heart stopped, and as there was nothing left to cushion it. He was drained with every shake of the predator's head, each drop of blood that it spilt from his body, with nothing but the deleting hope inside of him that Swanfeather would've left him to die alone, would've saved herself, and made sure that everyone else would be safe.
Because that could not be his responsibility anymore.
Hellion & Fawn
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Post by Hellion on Dec 30, 2015 19:41:47 GMT -5
Swanfeather
His words finally forced her into action. Back to camp? That if the fox followed her? That fear continued to cripple the she-cat in her place, her paws like stones. Slow motion took over the area, Swanfeather felt as if it was ever going to end. In what felt like the slowest moment of her life.
Her blue eyes were glued to the fox as finally her feet decided to move. Her movements were small at first, easy steps backwards toward what she knew would be a reed covered exit. Razorstar shoved her back further, forcing the she-cat to stumble but she recovered quickly. The ferocity of the fox didn't not surprise her it was Razorstar's bravery.
She had hatred in her heart for any cat that didn't share the pure RainClan that she claimed. But as she watched a mixture of blood hit the ground she realized that they were all the same. The blood that shed from Razorstar was the same color as the blood within her, why would the 'purity' of said blood matter? Anger at herself rose up in the she-cat but it was quickly pushed aside as it happened.
Razorstar was knocked back and fell to the ground and the entire world sped up. The fox did not hesitate and her cry in anguish when she realized what was going to happen. Razorstar was going to die in front of her and she'd never have a chance to tell him she was sorry. Forgiveness was not going to be in the she-cat future and she'd live with that for the rest of her life.
Swanfeather couldn't wait any longer, she turned and jumped into the reeds for added protection as her paws carried her to camp.
She crashed into camp, panting and felt her legs give out but not before letting out the most ear shattering yowl in her entire life.
"FOX! RAZORSTAR IS DEAD!" Silence followed after and her body wanted to collapse but she wouldn't not now. Instead she forced her legs to move, she had to make up for being useless before.
The cream and black she-cat returned to the fight to find Razorstar's lifeless body, a sob broke through the she-cat as she made it to him in one bound. The scent of fox was leading in a direction toward the rear of camp, but her place was here.
"I am sorry Razorstar," She whispered to his body. She was silently praying to StarClan to give him just one extra life, she needed to say she was sorry. However, StarClan did not grant such prayers and left the leader there with his blood soaking into the ground.
all the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever
And I know it's only in my mind
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Post by Fawn on Jan 18, 2016 22:49:04 GMT -5
"FOX! RAZORSTAR IS DEAD!"
Red paws followed Swanfeather, a ruddy body flying over icy stream and snowy embankment, heart pumping liquid denial with each thunderous beat in his chest. No! No no no no no no NO! Russethawk's head was empty of thought; for once, it was the outcry of his soul that was noisiest as he pursued Swanfeather to the broken, bloodied body lying in the snow. He saw the heinous open wound in the cat's neck, and the hazel-brown jaw, stained dark with blood.
No.
His apprenticeship flashed before his eyes. Then his warrior ceremony, of seeing Razorstar and Roselight standing beside him as he earned his place in the Clan. Then the birth of Razorstar's kits. Every prominent scene in their growing friendship and later, strong family connection, filling up his head so fast he thought he might drown in the rush of it all.
"N-No..." Russethawk whimpered, the sound barely audible. "Razorstar—you can't—" You can't just DIE! He choked on his words. The ruddy warrior felt nostalgia of a different kind creep up and try to drown him; the grief-saturated memory of standing on the river bank, watching as his parents never came up for air...
But there was no one here to press their muzzle into his shoulder, silently bearing witness to the sound his heart made when it shattered.
This couldn't be Razorstar. Russethawk wheeled back from the body, the cooling corpse that could not be his mentor's. Razorstar, in all his forceful silence, the acidic nature of his remarks, the deathly glint of his stare—he had been so alive. So powerful, yet severe. Razorstar's presence had been as indomitable as a waterfall; this was wrong.
A sudden cry from the reeds caught the young tom by surprise, and he watched, mouth agape, as Roselight surged forward. The pretty queen, shook as she laid her cheek against the dead cat's, and all the air squeezed itself out of Russethawk's lungs. "No, Roselight don't—it's not him—"
Somehow, she had made it real. Her presence shoved through the building layers of denial, thick as lake-ice, and he fell through the surface, plunging in the cold, stark waters of reality.
Razorstar, his mentor, brother and friend, was dead.
And Russethawk's world was emptier.
Emptier than he'd ever thought it could be.
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Post by Insidious on Jan 18, 2016 23:42:06 GMT -5
Something was different, but not about the corpse on the ground.
He was gone, and yet he stood. The scene unwinding before him, the cats he cared about, the cats he treasured, crumbled around him as if it was not he who had died. For a moment, just one, he thought he hadn't. If he took a step, Russethawk would be right there, so close, and he could tell him that everything was okay, and that he needed to pick himself up off of the ground and stop blubbering. Another step, and it would be Roselight, his cheek pressing against hers, not the other way around, to whisper of how much he loved her - because that he had feelings was a secret, their secret, wasn't it? - and how he would never dare leave her like this. Swanfeather could suck in a sharp breath and take back her apology. He appreciated it, but didn't need it, for how could he scorn her for believing in something?
How he knew the reason behind those two words hadn't struck him yet. Everything moved slowly, including him, his body taking time that he didn't have to adjust to a new kind of momentum. Something was pulling at him, physically, mentally, and it made him feel lighter. His steps weren't steps so much as thoughts of steps; he went where he wanted to go with something beyond grace, like he was otherworldly, but it felt right. This was how it was supposed to be for him. His time had come, and while, in life, he wished it away, in death, acceptance came to him naturally.
His lips spread into a smile that nobody would see. Roselight kneeled beside him - his body - but he towered above her, pressing his muzzle into the back of her neck. He didn't feel her, but he sensed her, he was aware of what had changed, and had he a heartbeat, the empty spot in his chest now full of stars would've fluttered with the wings of an eagle, not a butterfly, because she didn't make him glide so much as soar.
Russethawk, in denial, in pain, didn't see him at his side. He didn't see it when Razorstar lowered himself to the ground, wanting to have to lift his head and to look up at him, not down, in order to properly see the cat he had sculpted into this commendable, admirable warrior. He didn't see the parts of him that had broken because of this. He might've thought his heart had shattered - he didn't need to look inside of Russethawk's head, because despite everything, he still knew him - because the cat he trained, the cat he loved as a brother, the cat who in some ways trained him, did not shatter.
His tail in an undetectable show of affection trailed the young tom's side, softly collecting the pieces, what had broken, what had shattered, in the hopes - in the belief - that he would take it without even realizing he had, and begin to rebuild.
He stood in front of Swanfeather now. The medicine cat who had tolerated and trusted him, but hadn't respected him until he was dead. He was somewhere that didn't know a grudge, which, for him, for the body he left behind, would've been unthinkable. She was dedicated, and while he hadn't the time to properly earn her respect, her favour, and to coexist, he respected her. Searching her face, his at peace, hers blank as if seeing through him, he dipped his head, moving past her, beyond her, in such an unexpected rush that it should've stirred a breeze.
And maybe it did.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2016 16:56:41 GMT -5
Timberwing The Fox of Rainclan
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Graying paws made their way through the reeds towards where several cats of the clan - her clan - had darted to after the shaken Medicine Cat. The cry, almost a wail within itself, still echoed in the old cat's ears, vibrating around the small, sensitive furs that lined the inside. She would have never thought this would be the end of the strong tom who's body she was slowly making her way to see.
She wasn't a stranger to death, in fact, she could call him an acquaintance. A soulless cat with black holes where his eyes should have been, small in structure and almost invisible to the eye. But he was there. Death had always been there. From a young age, the old she-cat had been aware of him, from the time Snoutkit had died of sickness, to now, where Razorstar had fallen victim to the jaws of a fox.
Death was there long before her, and Death would be there long after she had left the valley.
She was pulled from her thoughts as the reeds parted around the large, red she-cat, who made her way through, deep green eyes falling on the small crowd of cats. Her heart strained from sorrow when she saw Roselight curled up against Razorstar's unmoving side. She had never known love, but she had seen the gentle, yet strong emotion through the two of them as they had grown together and brought kits into this cruel and unforgiving world.
Life was fleeting, something that was well known to every cat who took the life of a warrior, but Razorstar was young, with several moons left in his life, and nine of them left him far to quickly. The graying she-cat paused in her decent to the others of her clan, deep green eyes pausing near Swanfeather's crouched body. A cold wind bit at her through her long fur, as if trying to pull her mind away from the outline of the cat she managed to see, but no other could.
Razorstar... He looked strong and healthy, the vision of who he was before being left for dead by a vicious fox. There were no injures on his coat and no blood stains from loss of life, his eyes were bright and his crooked teeth showed under a curled lip, as if smirking at Death. While he may have died, he would live on through his clan, through his mate and through his kits. He was gone, but never to be forgotten.
Rest well, young Razorstar. Timberwing nodded to the fading spirit of her former leader, I will look after them for as long as Starclan lets me... She promised to him. The old fox colored she-cat would have never though that she would carry the mantel of deputy, let alone leader, and now... now she would carry the name of Timberstar, leader of Rainclan, for the remainder of her moons. How was it, that she had outlived Sandstar and now Razorstar, to hold this position.
Was she ready, was she able? Timberwing would have a long road ahead of her, longer than she had prepared for. When only a short while ago, she had planned to retire, she had planned to let a younger, more capable cat serve Razorstar and Rainclan as their deputy, and now, now she was to care for Razorstar's -- no, for her clan. This was her clan now, she was to be Rainclan's leader and she needed to be strong for them, even if her strength was failing her in her old age.
Those graying paws moved the older she-cat forwards, joints aching from age and pain in the chilling winds. Her feathery tail bushed ever so slightly against Roselight as she pause to touch her nose to Russethawk's ear. "Do not dispair... young Russethawk..." Her voice was soft, but cracked with age. She could see his pain and sorrow on his flank as easily as the red of his pelt. "Razorstar is not gone forever, and he will need you to be there for his kits, for Roselight."
Those deep green eyes looked over Russethawk, from a stranger's point a view, the two could have possibly looked related. A soft light shimmered in those eyes of Timberwing, a comforting light for the troubled young tom. "Let's take Razorstar home."
Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older, too
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