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Post by Hellion on Feb 11, 2018 4:42:41 GMT -5
Duskrose, Warrior of TreeClan  Glancing upward at sky Duskrose was content that the weather would hold. The sun was warm but not blazing and the swirling of a breeze kept the day cool.
"Where are you going?" Her brother's voice forced the she-cat to pause midstride and turn to look at him. His eyes were narrowed and his ears pitched forward. He didn't look impressed and Duskrose instinctually dipped her head. Ever since their parents passing Dunefang had taken up being the overprotective one. A new trait she refused to get used to.
"I'm going for a walk,"She replied her reponse lacking any information.
"I'll come with you," He offered stepping up to brush against her.
"No need, I'm going to do some hunting on my way back and I like to hunt alone," She responded quickly before leaving camp before he could reply. Duskrose left Dunefang behind in the camp, the tom slightly annoyed. But she found little effort to be bothered by it.
Instead of finding herself near a popular hunting spot, Duskrose headed for her new favorite place. The border with LightingClan. She had been visiting the area nearly every day in the off chance she'd run into him.
It was feeble in all reality. The likelihood of seeing the tom that helped her escape a fox was slim. He didn't seem too keen on returning to the border considering his injuries, but Duskrose couldn't shake herself out of it. She wanted to know his name, thank him for saving her. She owed him the courtesy.
Picking her way along the greenleaf warmed path to the border, Duskrose slowed down to a careful walk. Hyper aware of all the scents around her Duskrose paid close attention to the sharp tang of a fox. She had no desire to test her luck again.
After a moment and deeming the local area safe, Duskrose leaped upon a fallen tree for a better vantage point. She could recognize his fur anywhere, it was such a unique pattern and would easily stand out. Treading carefully along the log, Duskrose made a little game out of it. She jumped from a fallen log to a nearby rock then onto a stump. The goal to never touch the ground but even during her game, she kept her ears and eyes tuned for him.
A short time later Duskrose felt a pang of unhappiness. A feeling she was quickly getting used to. What if he wasn't at the border? Could she send a message? As soon as the idea came to her she chided herself. She was being as foolish as mouse learning to fly. No warrior in their right mind would carry a message between two cats. Suddenly annoyed with herself Duskrose sat upon a stump and fixed her gaze to the vastness of LightingClan territory. Silently asking StarClan to send him her way.
 She was a bit like spring;
wild as the wind
fickle as the weather,
but her love ran deep as tree roots. |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2018 23:07:33 GMT -5
It seemed an unlikely prayer for StarClan to answer, to bring together once more two cats from different Clans, to at all encourage any sort of relationship outside of polite friendship at gathering. But it so happened that on that day, Blazefang was determined to stretch his legs. He had not ventured quite as far from camp since his encounter with Duskrose and the fox, not because he was scared of the mangy creature, but because the strain had taken its toll on his crippled leg and he'd been hesitant to subject himself to more. There was a reason he was retired from warrior duty. Repeated strain could mean losing the use of the leg entirely, not just bad days and good days.
Tail lashing behind him at the thought, he cast a glance over his shoulder, back toward camp, as he headed away from it, going wherever his paws wanted to wander. He wished he could hunt, do something useful for once, but the strain of chasing down rabbits and hares was too much for his stupid leg. As the camp fell into the distance behind him, he sighed, thoughts of Firebird creeping in. She and her mate were so old, they barely even moved anymore, and their breathing sometimes sounded... well it didn't sound good. The old queen had raised him and his brothers after his own mother and father had died. They were some sort of distant kin, he knew, though he wasn't exactly certain how. Through his mother, he knew. He had plenty of distant kin through Dovesong.
And now his second mother was likely dying. At least she had lived a long life, unlike his birth mother. He couldn't even remember her anymore. The only memories he had were of soft white fur, a comforting milky scent, and a warm purr. He couldn't remember much of Galekit either; their sister had died first, and then she'd likely passed the sickness on to their mother, who refused to leave her sick kit. Galekit, Dovesong,Windstrike. And then a badger had taken Pigeonpaw from them. And then he'd been taken away himself, returning as a useless cripple. Snowheart had been killed. Sunblaze had died. Icewhisker and Frostfire had left. And now.... His heart ached as he thought of Gustclaw, their most recent loss. Harebrain, he thought acidly, painfully. Firebird and her mate would be joining them soon, and then it would only be him and Mudpelt left. Just the two of them. His tail lashed again as if it could wipe away all these horrid thoughts of death and loss.
When he looked up to see where his paws had led him while he'd been lost in dark thoughts, he blinked in surprise to see he had come to the TreeClan border. His ears twitched and his jaws parted to draw in the scents as he cast a wary glance around for any sign of fox. No stench hit the roof of his mouth and he breathed a sigh of relief, padding on along the border at a relaxed pace. A fresh TreeClan scent hit him as he walked on and he paused, glancing over the border, ears pricked. Exchanging friendly greetings with cats from another Clan had never been high on his list of priorities, but it wasn't like he had much better to do these days. And it wasn't like he was going to be meeting any of them in battle any time soon unless they invaded LightningClan's camp. His tail flicked irritably as he cast around for the source of the scent and finally saw her.
He couldn't remember if she'd ever told him her name, because he couldn't recall it now. His ears angled toward her and he raised his tail in greeting, “Hey there! You sit there staring out at the meadow often? Spying on the rabbits or something?” His whiskers twitched with some amusement and he sat himself at the border, unconcerned with being seen by cats from either Clan, and stretched out his crippled leg with a wince.
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Post by Hellion on Jun 15, 2018 2:21:47 GMT -5
Duskrose, Warrior of TreeClan
Shifting from her sitting position and lowering herself down to lay she kept her head up. Eyes watching the moorland, her tail flicking back and forth in quiet annoyance. The longer she laid there the more she came to her senses. Her idea was silly, caught up in the exotic.
Her entire life up until that point was spent following her mother's plan and taking care of Dunefang. There hadn't been time for herself. Not that she complained, it was her nature to put her family and friends first. However, as Dunefang found his own friends and considered making his own family, Duskrose was slowly put to the side. Again she refused to complain, accepted the growing distance between them as something normal and expected.
There was a sense of longing that made her heartache. Many of her former sparring partners and nursery mates had grown to have their own lives, Duskrose the only one put out. While it wasn't some internal clock speaking there was a certain calling within her. A desire for something she couldn't find in TreeClan and to be fair she hadn't tried.
Instead, her eyes were set elsewhere, to the moorland to be exact. Determined not to call it anything but a curiosity, dropped her head to rest and watched the border.
Despite having waited for what felt like a season, she couldn't help but feel renewed when he appeared on the border. Jumping to her paws she leaped down and made her way closer to him. Stopping like he had at the border and sitting, partially mirroring him.
"Hi! I just hang out here sometimes, rabbits are fun to watch but I'd never steal one," She replied, her tone playful as her tail flicked. "I'm Duskrose by the way we didn't really have much time to introduce ourselves,"Her tail stilled for a moment, ears tilting slightly as the memory of that rough day but she did her best to hide any discomfort from appearing on her face.
She was a bit like spring;
wild as the wind
fickle as the weather,
but her love ran deep as tree roots. |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2018 12:09:43 GMT -5
That day seemed so long ago as he sat there thinking about it. He'd been so sure he was going to die. His ears twitched at the thought. Mudpelt would be alone now, if he had. They were all they had left. And he would have died, if it hadn't been for this TreeClan she-cat. Duskrose, she introduced herself. They hadn't made a bad team, all things considering.
“I'm Blazefang,” he responded after a moment. She liked watching rabbits huh? His tail twitched with barely concealed irritation as the desire to chase one down and show off some LightningClan skills struck him. He might have, despite the risk to his leg, but it had an ache in it today that was good for reminding him not to push his luck. It wasn't terrible, but it was enough to keep him seated at the border rather than rushing off to find a rabbit.
Instead he gazed past her a moment, trying to think of something to say that would help distract him from his unfair predicament. The forest grew denser behind her, more trees, plenty of undergrowth, and no room at all to chase down rabbits. It sure had been handy for losing that fox though. “Say, how do you chase down your prey over there? I don't see how you TreeClanners don't just trip over everything.” Surprisingly, his tone wasn't antagonistic, only openly curious and somewhat baffled.
Before his injury, he'd never cared to try to understand how those who were different from him lived. TreeClan was viewed as a dormant enemy, and Blazefang lived in a waiting game for war to break out, eager for the rush of battle. He would have preferred to unsheathe his claws at the sight of a TreeClan cat rather than sit down and have a chat. Maybe he still would, if it wasn't this TreeClan cat, and if it weren't just him and Mudpelt left. But he couldn't go and leave his boring brother alone now, could he? So maybe he was less impulsive and more thoughtful now, because he'd never forgive himself if he did something that left Mudpelt all alone.
Hellion |
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Post by Hellion on Jun 28, 2018 22:03:33 GMT -5
Duskrose, Warrior of TreeClan Blazefang
The suffix reminded her of Dunefang, but it seemed to suit the other tom better. He showed immense bravery to face down the fox that nearly killed them both. Nevermind the fact he had some sort of injury that put him at a greater risk. It was admirable, that amount of courage was not to be ignored. Even if he was LightingClan
There was a time back in her youth when Duskrose considered no clan better than her own. But moons can change one's beliefs and that was the first. Each clan had their strengths and weaknesses. The clans shared a common goal, protect the future generations and keep the warrior code alive. The only difference was the territory they hunted. Long stretches of moorland wouldn't suit her, she wasn't fast enough and likely run herself into the ground before getting within a tail-length of a rabbit.
His question almost caught her off guard. Funny how they seemed to be sharing the same thought. Turning her head to look behind her she took stock of the area around her. It didn't seem like a challenge, but she reminded herself that she grew up in the forest. The trees in some places were more home to her than her nest. Perhaps he had a similar place on the moorland.
"It's just habit. I learned from a young age how to watch the forest floor for roots to avoid tripping. I can run back to camp without missing a stride. It helps that in TreeClan we tend to use the paths to get to certain areas, so the forest has molded to our paw pads."Her tone was informative and supportive of his questions. "The same could be said for LightingClan. The area all looks the same, I'd get lost without a tree to point me in the right direction," Her tone a little teasing.
"Is it true you guys use tunnels to get around? I'm pretty sure I heard someone mention that forever ago at a gathering. Kinda scary if you ask me. I don't want to be in the ground until I'm cold and grey," She gave herself a shake to whisk away the feeling of dread at the aforementioned tunnels.
She was a bit like spring;
wild as the wind
fickle as the weather,
but her love ran deep as tree roots. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 24, 2018 13:02:39 GMT -5
You see the things they never see, all you wanted I could be.
Now you know me and I'm not afraid...
Blazefang listened to her explanation with some curiosity. There were paths they followed to get around? His ears twitched, mildly amused at the similarity. He supposed it made sense if all the Clans had normal routes they took to travel around the territory, deviating from those paths only to break off to hunt a bit. He'd just never cared to think about it before now.
“We have paths too,” his tail flicked behind him in a near gesture, “Where the grass grows taller than a cat stands, or... where it was.” The territory was slow to heal from the fire after leafbare halted the process prematurely. The grasses were just starting to recover again. “There are well trodden pathways. You can't see them if you don't know they're there. They're narrow, but big enough for a cat to travel unseen and unheard, without rustling the grass at all.”
She asked him about the tunnels and he grimaced, and quickly fought to regain his composure after the momentary lapse, “Some of us, not all though.” He'd never go back in another tunnel if he could help it. The dens in camp were one thing, but the tunnels that ran under the territory? He was lucky to have survived one encounter with them, he wasn't going to give them another chance to claim his life. His ears twitched dismissively, not really wanting to dwell on the subject, “The grass pathways can be kinda like tunnels sometimes, when the grasses grow and bend overhead. I prefer the short grasses though. Being able to just run, nothing but grass and sky and wind in my fur....”
He trailed off, only able to recall the feeling in distant memories. He couldn't run like that anymore. He hadn't been able to run like that in a long time. His tail twitched behind him in frustration and he looked over at the TreeClan she-cat for a moment. “I miss it,” he admitted suddenly, the words falling from his mouth before he could stop them, “I ca-....” To admit he couldn't do something was so difficult for him, as endlessly stubborn as he was, and his tone dropped, “I... can't... anymore.” He glared hatefully at his injured leg.
He didn't like dwelling on it. It didn't do anything. It wouldn't fix anything, it wouldn't make him better. He was good at keeping it in. But sometimes it was hard. Sometimes he just wanted someone to talk to about it, and he couldn't lay it on Mudpelt, couldn't make himself some sort of burden for his brother to bear. He was burden enough, useless as his leg made him. Gustclaw was gone, but he couldn't have laid it on him either. It just wasn't how their relationship worked. And Cloudyfeather had lost her mate, the father of her kits, and had four kits to raise now, he couldn't add to her burden either. There was no one in LightningClan he felt comfortable talking to, just letting out his frustration so it stopped building into this relentless force that he feared would just burst one day on some cat that didn't deserve it.
For some reason it seemed easier to tell this she-cat. Duskrose. This stranger from another Clan who he would never have ever considered sharing anything but his claws with once upon a time. After all, it was no burden on her, was it? The problems of some random cat from another Clan. If she was nice enough to listen, she could then walk away and not even worry about it anymore. It wasn't her job to care. But it would let him get it all out. His tail lashed, “I hate it. I should be hunting. My brother-” He cut himself off as his voice cracked. Gustclaw's death was still too fresh. When he continued his voice was steadier, “My brother had to go and die and leave his four kits behind, and I can't even help provide for them. I can't hunt. I can't help protect them. I can't patrol and fight. I can't....” His ears pressed flat to his head and he closed his eyes tightly, “I can't do anything.”
And I wanna tell you who I am, can you help me be a man?
They can't break me as long as I know who I am. Hellion
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