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 Jul 29, 2016 22:31:51 GMT -5
if you get lost you can always be found He stood before the stream and tried to pretend that it didn’t feel strange to be looking at it from this angle. When one approached from camp, as one usually did, it was always right there, but coming from the Wooded Cove meant that he had to walk toward it. It was one of those small details that he had never thought about until now. There were a lot of those. Everything had changed in the past few moons. Once warmly greeted by those with whom he shared a den, he now felt like an alien, watching them from afar. From the outside. The thought that he was outside RainClan – were they even that anymore? – was an entirely new and monstrous beast with which he had been forced to familiarize himself in recent times, and he had never thought he’d ever entertain this particular position again after being taken in under Swanfeather’s wing. RainClan was his house, but it was the cats who made it his home.
These were the cats who were all – all but one – on the far side of the metaphorical river between the two sides of the civil war. They were family in all but blood, and he was being forced to choose between his mother and his brother. It was an unfair decision, and it was an unpleasant one. But every time, he would pick the former. Russethawk held an unrivaled position in his heart, but it was to Swanfeather he owed everything. She was his best friend and his advisor and his mother. He could not imagine life without her there, if not always by his side then at least in the background, offering support and comfort when he needed them most. To always have that cat to turn to, the one who would love him unconditionally – never would he willingly give that up.
But Bravebird was lonely. Had Swanfeather not been leading the charge against Timberwing – they refused to call her by her leader name at the new camp, and he had picked up the habit – he would have crossed the divide in a heartbeat. He held no grudge against those not of RainClan descent (he thought it would be rather hypocritical of him if he did) but his differing opinion made his a lonely experience. He was vastly outnumbered by the Purists, as they had taken to calling themselves, and in an effort to fit in with his new home, he had kept his own thoughts quiet. He was there for Swanfeather, he had decided, not for her message. That difference was small, but it still set him apart from the rest.
So now he found himself walking along the familiar-but-strange shore along the camp stream, occasionally taking a sip of water and half-heartedly glancing at the few fish swimming beneath the surface. He was pretending that he was not there out of the hope that perhaps he would be lucky enough to spy an old friend from a distance. He did not want to talk to Russethawk, not now, for it would only make things harder. But he wanted to make sure the other tom was okay. Never before had they gone so long without seeing each other, and his friend’s absence gnawed at him relentlessly. If he couldn’t see that particular cat, then perhaps one who would not jump down his throat for wandering within eyesight of the camp that had once been his home. The rift between the two groups seemed far too wide to cross, but if he wanted the infighting to end – and he very much did want it to end – perhaps he had to try to reach out himself. just know you're not alone i'm gonna make this place your home bravebird | rainclan | warrior | Fawn Hellion for the Russet, Swan mentions home | background image
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Post by Fawn on Aug 6, 2016 20:25:04 GMT -5
And the world's gonna know your name, Sometimes, he couldn't stand how quiet RainClan camp had become. He couldn't stand just how everyone was getting on with their lives, accepting the bitter truth that maybe, just maybe, this civil war wasn't ending anytime soon. That they would just have to get used to being two small Clans, until one eventually left the valley for good.
Russethawk refused to accept that.
The ruddy warrior, looking thin now due to having shed his winter coat a long time ago (and admittedly a little thin due to stress), exited RainClan's camp, unable to cope with the turmoil in his heart. He stopped at the edge of the camp stream, staring into the water as he struggled to get his breathing under control. It was frustrating. It was worse than that. It was heartbreaking. He felt as though his trust, his belief in his Clanmates had been betrayed.
He knew some felt very strongly about things like blood purity, but to go this far? Russethawk nudged a pebble into the stream, watching it plop harshly, and splash droplets onto the ends of his whiskers. They twitched in response, a paw hastily swiping at his face as a result. "I wish you hadn't died, Razorstar." He muttered at the water. "Not just because I and everybody else needs you, but because I don't know how to fix this. I don't know if it can be fixed." What would Razorstar do in this situation? Try to broker peace between himself and Swanfeather?
Maybe not. He might just spit at the idea and try to make RainClan stronger without Swanfeather and her crowd. Easy for Razorstar to make that decision, Razorstar likely wasn't so optimistic about his Clanmates as Russethawk naturally was. And Razorstar didn't have friends on the other side of this, friends he knew had no choice but to support their mother...
Like a ghost out of memory, Russethawk glimpsed a pale reflection on the other side of the camp stream. A ripple of shock traveled down his pelt, turning into a ripple of delight when he looked up and saw the familiar blue eyes of his friend. Russethawk jumped to his paws. "Bravebird!" He at least had enough sense to keep his voice down, lest he alert the others. To the Dark Forest with this stupid infighting. With a glance up and down the stream, Russethawk backed up, trying to gain some distance.
Don't move Bravebird, I'll be right there. Oh he'd better not leave. Russethawk couldn't handle seeing his brother walk away from him again. The first time was hard enough, and he'd lost so many nights fretting over something he'd thought impossible. Was it just him, or were the moons getting harder and harder?
The happiness of youth, his outrageous, hilarious, heartwarming kithood seemed so long ago.
Russethawk jumped to the other side of the stream, hitting the water with minimal splashing. He lurched up onto the other bank, shook his ruddy pelt out, and stared at Bravebird, suddenly uncertain of how to greet him. What if he was here to deliver a warning? What if Swanfeather kicked him out? Russethawk growled mentally, half out of disgust for the she-cat and half out of triumph at having his best friend back. "Hi," he started, hoping that would be enough to start crumbling through the awkward silence. If not, he also had "the camp's not the same without you" if that didn't work. | 'Cause you burn with the brightest flame | Word Count: 575 Words Tags: Insidious (Razorstar mentioning) Phoenix Notes: |
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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 Aug 6, 2016 23:41:02 GMT -5
if you get lost you can always be found What was he still doing here? He was alone and had been for quite a while now, and in any event, he decided, he had been too optimistic. It wasn’t as if any of Timberwing’s supporters would approach a Purist; he didn’t even know what he would do if he stood on the other side of the metaphorical river. Blue eyes stared at his own reflection, searching, as if they could find the answer lurking within the depths of the stream if they looked hard enough. Bravebird wished it was that easy, that the answer to all of their problems rested beneath the surface, waiting to spring up and fix everything. Or perhaps turn back time and stop Swanfeather from opening her mouth – a bolt of anger shot through him, though he felt guilty about it almost immediately after – or better yet, stop Razorstar from dying, and they never would have needed to discuss the change in leadership at all. But the cure, he knew, did not exist and almost certainly did not sit within the stream. He was wasting time and making himself miserable.
But these days, what didn’t?
He had just turned away to head back to their makeshift camp – to their home – when the sound of his name, shouted from afar, had him stopping and looking back. ”Russethawk?” The word escaped his lips, incredulous, as though he couldn’t believe his luck, before he could help it. Indeed, he would recognize his best friend, his brother, anywhere, and while the sight of the other warrior brought a storm of emotions rising within him, he could not deny the significantly large quantity of joy, sheer, pure, genuine joy. A grin was beginning to spread across his lips as he watched the tom back up, and, realizing just in time what was about to happen, he hurried to give him some landing room. It hardly the most graceful leap he had seen in his lifetime, but it was pure Russethawk, and in anyway, that didn’t seem to matter now that he had his friend right here next to him for the first time in what felt like forever. But then the handsome auburn cat looked up and green eyes met blue. Suddenly, he was painfully aware of how much had changed, and his joy vanished.
”Hi,” He responded, voice small. What else could he say? Not since the time they had first met those many seasons ago had they ever had so little to say to each other. But it wasn’t that – not exactly. So many words bubbled up within Bravebird that he felt as though they would tumble over each other on the way out, and yet he could not ever let them out. He felt like there was nothing he could say to explain himself, to justify his decision, to this tom who was so wonderfully good because he thought everyone, even a little loner kit, deserved a chance and because he stood up for that belief. He had undoubtedly thought his best friend shared his opinion, and Bravebird hated to think of how his siding with Swanfeather must have completely ruined everything. Russethawk didn’t know that on that day, when he had followed his mother out of camp for the last time, he had felt the other tom’s disappointment and pain following him like a storm cloud, and it had hung over him, pouring, for so many days after that he had lost count. Had it been anyone else, he and his best friend would never have ended up on opposite sides of the divide, and Bravebird had never had the opportunity to tell him that.
But now that he did, his tongue was tied, and he found himself unable to speak. He wanted to tell him how nothing was right anymore, how there was an ache in his chest now that wouldn’t go away. He wanted to ask him how he could turn on Swanfeather, his mother, so quickly, and he wanted to tell him that he knew – knew and understood – exactly why he had done what he did. He wanted to ask him what he would have done in his position, torn between his mother and his brother, forced to choose between his loyalty and his beliefs. Just the sight of the other cat had so many conflicting emotions rising to the surface; he didn’t know how he was supposed to get his tongue to form words, let alone the right ones. There was an awkwardness now, between them, that had never existed before. Because there had never been any opportunity for it to form. Although Bravebird certainly didn’t think anything less of his friend for standing up for what he believed in, who knew how far Russethawk’s opinion of him had fallen? He was afraid to find out.
”What are you doing here?” He finally managed to get out, and the small talk put an unpleasant taste in his mouth. It wasn’t what he had meant to ask, and he hoped it didn’t sound as accusatory to Russethawk as it had in his head. He didn’t want to hurt their friendship even more than he already had, but he had never been good at this awkward dancing around each other. A pause and then a sigh. A small part of him had hoped that perhaps he could remain detached from this situation (it would make it a lot easier to go back if he did), but he was already in so far that he might as well just go all the way. "I miss you."
just know you're not alone i'm gonna make this place your home bravebird | rainclan | warrior | Fawn home | background image
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Post by Fawn on Aug 11, 2016 9:39:24 GMT -5
And the world's gonna know your name, He could've explained how he'd come to the edge of camp because he couldn't stand how things were right now, and that he'd wanted to talk to Razorstar but the Moon Tree was so far away. He could've said a lot of things, but instead he growled, shaking his head with obvious unhappiness in his emerald-green eyes. "I hate this, Bravebird. Can't you come home? I miss you too. It's not the same without you."
He was tired of not having his best friend around; he loved spending time with Rushwhisker and Bitternwing and every other cat he called a friend—but Bravebird was like a brother. Like the sibling he'd never gotten. With Lilystream spending so much time with Ashclaw, some days he felt like a stick floating down the river, unable to reach the banks—and hitting every rock on the way. The world felt like it was trying to break him in half sometimes.
Russethawk smiled bitterly, feeling an ache in his stomach. It had been a few moons since he'd properly glimpsed his friend, and now that they were standing face to face, he realized that Bravebird was looking a little thin. Was that from the stress? The purists spent most of their time fishing in the wooded cove, which wasn't especially plentiful if you wanted something bigger than a stickleback...
Why did you have to side with Swanfeather, brother? Better question: why did someone with such twisted views have to mean so much to you, Bravebird? Russethawk almost sighed. It was all so... all so messed up. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting StarClan to send some cats to interrupt them, either from Bravebird's side or his own.
Of course, he knew his friends back at camp would never attack Bravebird. That was probably the difference between Swanfeather's loyalists and Timberstar's loyalists; aggression and hostility were in short supply in his camp. Though he didn't pretend his Clanmates were all kind and compassionate. They said things, there were angry, heated whispers in the warriors den whenever someone mentioned a name—the name of a cat who should have been there, or made mention of a nest that needed to be thrown out because that cat had chosen their side.
Russethawk hadn't let them toss out Bravebird's nest. He'd combined it with his, instead, vowing to keep it warm until his best friend eventually returned to them.
| 'Cause you burn with the brightest flame | Word Count: 398 Words Tags: Phoenix Notes: |
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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 Aug 13, 2016 12:53:05 GMT -5
if you get lost you can always be found I want to, He wanted to say. You have no idea how much I want to. He wanted to shout the words, scream them at the skies. Driven by the sheer force of the sudden yearning that raged through him, his jaw fell open as if he was about to speak. It would be so easy. With one small sentence, he could return to his place beside his old friend, and they could begin to build bridges the rift that now separated them. He wanted to. The words sat right there, perched on the tip of his tongue. One small sentence… But he did not dare let them unfurl their wings and take flight. If he started, he was afraid that he would never be able to stop.
In this instant, Russethawk may have felt like home, but he knew, without a doubt, that Swanfeather was home.
He was nothing without her by his side. For his entire life, she had been his bedrock, and it was because of her steady foundation that he had gotten so far. This chapter in his life was merely an earthquake; it would pass, and then they could carry on as they ought to. He clung to that hope, even as he watched the landscape crumble around him. Things would right themselves. Everything would somehow manage to fix itself. The alternative was too painful to consider.
That horrible silence fell again as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hated this. He hated the silence. He hated that they couldn’t just talk to each other anymore – they had been friends for so many moons – it shouldn’t be as hard as it was to simply force words past the tightness that threatened to choke him – I shouldn’t have to be forcing words in the first place. He hated the way that they instinctively gravitated toward each other, even now when the air was thick not with the joy of reunion but with an unfamiliar, ugly tension after moons of being estranged. He hated how he wanted to leap across the metaphorical divide, and he hated how loyalty to a different cat kept him chained to this side. He hated how, at his very worst, in his darkest moments, he hated both Russethawk and Swanfeather with a passion for making him choose between the two of them when they both knew how much he loved them. He hated them so much that he could barely stand the sight of either of them, even as he longed to see both of them.
But that boiling wrath that always fell so suddenly into the empty hole left by his broken heart never lasted long. He was too tired to sustain such a powerful emotion, especially one whose existence haunted him. ”I can’t, Russethawk.” Somehow the quiet words slipped by. They were the truth. He could fix everything between them if he simply chose to use the key beside him to unlock the shackles binding him to the ground, but he couldn’t. He was choosing this side, and he would keep choosing it at the cost of their relationship. Did that make him a bad cat? He felt like a bad cat, and he felt like he deserved whatever sentence his invisible jury gave him for his decision, even if he wanted to protest at the unfairness of being forced to make an impossible choice. Not daring to look up and see the pain in his brother’s eyes and the slump of his shoulders, he studied the grass at their feet. It was beginning suffer from the relentless green-leaf sun. ”I’m sorry.” A useless platitude a lifetime too late. It would not fix anything, but he had hoped saying it might make him feel a little better.
It didn’t. just know you're not alone i'm gonna make this place your home bravebird | rainclan | warrior | Fawn home | background image
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