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Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2016 17:37:11 GMT -5
Kitewing was currently in the camp stuck in the warriors den. She was awake but she didn't bother getting up. After all, why should she bother? She had a destiny already chosen for her, and fate had it's grip on her. Whatever happened next wasn't her decision. Of course, she got up when she had to, doing her daily duties such as hunting and border patrols, but once she was done she went back to the warriors den waiting for the next big thing that fate plays out for her or the clan. Whatever it was, she didn't really care. She stretched herself out and then laid her head upon her paws. There was nothing for her that she needed to do, she had done her duties now, and there was no point in wasting her time with little things that weren't going to make any difference. After all, if something was fated to happen, it was going to happen whether the clan liked it or not. The boarder controls would simply slowly it down if anything, whatever it may be.
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Post by Fawn on Sept 12, 2016 20:12:21 GMT -5
 74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. Kitewing was one of the few warriors in LightningClan that Cherrypool believed truly did not care about her appearance. When she cast her blood-red gaze upon the blue tuxedo she-cat, Kitewing did not flinch or hiss or curl her kits tighter to her body to protect them from the monster. Cherrypool had been on this earth for 74 moons, but there were always new queens and new kits to be frightened of her.
She'd had such a run-in with Poppythorn and her newest litter--Cherrypool hadn't bothered to learn their names--instead curling her lip as Poppythorn quickly ushered them back into the nursery as soon as she appeared. Whiteshade did not get a reaction quite so severe; it was as if he had woven a spell over the rest of the Clan. They saw him for the brave, loyal, capable warrior he made them see, and they saw her for the ice-hearted, fox-eyed warrioress with blood on her fur.
Typical. Entering the den, she glanced once at Kitewing before laying down at her nest. If she didn't bother Kitewing, Kitewing wouldn't bother her. It was simple. It worked.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN
I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2016 9:16:03 GMT -5
Kitewing watched as Cherrypool approached, she saw how everyone reacted, treating her like a monster, and then finally, she came to the warrior den. Now, any normal person would probably get up and leave, or tell her to get lost, but Kitewing? Nope, she didn't care, monster or not. She let out a soft yawn and stretched out her legs. Had she done something else that made her even more of a monster? Well, that was just how it was, Fate had made her who she was today and as soon as she lived out her use, she would die like the rest of them. The only question was, when would that be? Either way, she couldn't care if she stayed or not.
"What did you do this time?"
Kitewing didn't really care too much, but she supposed she should at least ask, so she seemed a little interested, although, everyone knew that Kitewing didn't really give a crap, and was just trying to be nice.
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Post by Fawn on Sept 13, 2016 22:40:00 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. Cherrypool's eyes narrowed into hostile slivers. "Nothing!" She retorted defensively. "What does it matter to you?" The warrioress's response was clear: the alabaster fur along her spine sticking up like thistle. Kitewing was one of the few cats she tolerated, until now. Kitewing was no better than the others, the cats who looked at her so accusingly. Assuming she had done something. Cherrypool was not guilt-free, there was more than mouse blood on her paws from time to time, and she could list patricide as a secret accomplishment, but those were not known to the Clan.
Maybe she shouldn't blame them for their reactions. They were right. The part of her that craved acceptance had accepted defeat instead. She could not be redeemed. Perhaps her so called Clanmates sensed this, and that was why they reacted how they did.
"Just walked past the nursery, that's all." The reply came in the form of a low, unfriendly hiss, her ears flattening to her skull as she began grooming, not wanting to stick around in the den but knowing there was little place else she could go. Her tongue rasped over her tail, the pink casting a bright contrast against her almost supernaturally white fur.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN
I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE 203 Words Tags: @savagewolf Notes: xD She's very defensive, sorry! |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 16, 2016 17:13:08 GMT -5
Kitewing stared at her, not saying a word, she didn't even flinch. She looked outside for a moment, still not saying anything, before looking back to her with an expression she carried well.
"Honestly, I don't care. You could of killed a kit for all I care, not saying you did, but what you do, and what you are doesn't bother me. Besides, it isn't you who makes all the decisions in life, but if you really want to show you're not a monster, then prove it to them. If it is your destiny to do so, then you will find a way."
She stretched herself out and gave a soft yawn. She gave her honest opinion, however she took it, Kitewing didn't care. She stared at Cherrypool with the same old expression, her eyes dull and uncaring as usual. It was how it always was, it was the expression she always carried.
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Post by Fawn on Sept 17, 2016 13:07:21 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. Cherrypool had never met a cat so disinterested before; Kitewing just did not care, it was as if whatever part of her brain generated empathy and compassion and concern had been excised. No wonder you're Rookfrost's kin. Their relationship was nothing to be admired; they treated each other like acquaintances on a good day, strangers on all the rest. Neither one cared to make their kinship anything more than a brief acknowledgment of the fact that they were blood-relatives. Nothing more.
Her crimson eyes narrowed, made uncomfortable by Kitewing's nonchalant response. ' You could of killed a kit for all I care,' Kitewing's words rattled around in her skull like loose pebbles, the fur along her spine taking a while to settle. "I didn't, and I've proved myself enough! They aren't going to change their minds." What did they expect her to do, walk around camp with a sweet smile on her face as if the whole world were rainbows and butterflies? Not only was that ridiculous, but it wasn't true. Warrior life was tough; she was 74 moons old, Kitewing didn't understand. When you got to a certain point, warriors, queens, kits and elders—they got too used to thinking of you in a certain way, and no amount of 'good behavior' was going to change that.
The Clan saw her as a monster, and that wasn't going to change.
Had she been younger, more hopeful of one day being accepted, she would have probed Kitewing for ideas. However, she had long ago lost her desire to improve her status in the Clan; this was the way life was. With a cold sniff, the albino warrioress curled up tighter in her nest, crimson eyes gazing dispassionately towards the entrance to the warriors' den.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN
I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE @savagewolf @aureux Notes: |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 17, 2016 14:13:59 GMT -5
 I can fake with the best of 'em, I can fake it all40 Moons. Tom. LightningClan.
Meanwhile Wildcall was making his own way to the warrior's den, highly amused by his most recent joke. His amber eyes were closed into playful crescents as his shoved his way into the middle of the conversation of two she-cats. Naturally he pause to examine both, the tell-tale shapes of Cherrypool and Kitewing in whatever kind of argument Kitewing could possibly hope to keep going given her general apathy with everything. Not that he judged much. It's what made her interesting, since the clan would be screwed if every cat had the same passion and fickle drive as him. He had enough sense of self to admit that he wasn't poster boy for the perfect clan cat.
He didn't really care mind you. Wildcall didn't really care much about judgments. He was well aware the entire clan shared a carefully hidden skepticism where he was involved. So much so that if his mother wasn't clan leader they probably would have run him out long ago. It wasn't for his strange appearance or particularly dangerous tendencies, for neither he really possessed. Aside from his bobbed tail he was relatively average. No it was his sheer annoying attitude that many disliked. His general flippancy to authority and tendency to flirt with everything that had legs leading to them to view him with uncertainty at the best of times.
"So ladies, what has you two talking all dark and dreary about. Oh wait, never-mind. You two always look grave no matter the conversation," The tom purred as he plopped right in between the two, poking Kitewing playfully with his nose.
267 Words | Kite&cherry | XD Woah you're such a f**king hypocrite |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2016 21:03:04 GMT -5
33 Moons. Warrior. She-Cat. LightningClanKitewing stared at Cherrypool but before she could answer, Wildcall came. She stared at him with her uncaring eyes before turning to Cherrypool once more, ignoring Wildcall for now. "Well, if they won't change their minds, then fate has decided that they shouldn't. What does it matter to you what they think? You should be like I and stop caring. It makes things so much easier." She turned her attention to Wildcall once more and stared at him with her cold stare. She then turned to Cherrypool once more, but as she spoke, she spoke to Wildcall, not Cherrypool. "I don't really know honestly, something about Cherrypool not being accepted. I didn't really care to pay attention honestly." She yawned before stretching herself out. She then looked between the two, she didn't really care what Cherrypool said about her little comment. She was giving the truth and if she didn't like it, well who cares? Certainly not her. |
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Post by Fawn on Sept 22, 2016 13:35:56 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. It was hard to say whose company was worse, at that moment; the flippant, rebellious Wildcall, or the dispassionate, detached Kitewing. Cherrypool reserved a glare for the bobtailed tom, taking offense to his cheery attitude as he plopped himself down between them. She shuffled slightly to the side, not wanting to give the highly flirtatious tom any ideas. "Why are you in here?" The albino she-cat mewed icily. "Run out of cats to purr at around camp?" In truth, she had no negative feelings towards Wildcall (nothing beyond the general wariness and self-defensive dislike she reserved for every Clanmate), but her argument with Kitewing had left her tense and snappish.
Kitewing's words were still sticking to her thoughts like burrs. You should stop caring, she said. Cherrypool suppressed a shiver; Kitewing had no idea what would happen if she just stopped caring. For all the agony her uncertainty and self-doubts caused her, the warrioress was very aware that if she simply ceased to hold value to their opinions and their lives, then she would become too much like Whiteshade.
And she did not have Whiteshade's self control.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN
I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE |
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