[Fawn]

Brackenstride

TreeClan || 21 Moons || Tom

He woke up with the taste of blood stuck in his throat, choking him like a sharp prey bone. Golden eyes snapped open, coming back to consciousness in a violent wrenching of limbs and tail, his Clanmates having long ago learned not to sleep too close to him. Brackenstride pushed his way out of the warriors' den, fur spiked along his chest and back - much more noticeable when his fur was far shorter than either of his parents'. Breathe, you stupid idiot. He hissed, frustrated with these daily panicked awakenings. Brackenstride gave himself a shake, bloodshot eyes narrowed against the shy glow of dawn.

Every night, it was the same dream.

The flash of teeth. Tabby fur. An unbearable weight on his back as blood seeped into every inch of him - into his eyes, into his mouth, over his ears until he could scarcely hear his own screaming. It was Gorsetail's blood. Sometimes, it was his father's - or some other TreeClan cat, and he'd be the one at fault, the one forced to carry their wounded bodies back to camp.

Those nightmares were hollowing him. Eating him away like termites.

With an irritated flick of his tail to the camp guards - Cliffchaser and Brushfire - to let them know he was leaving, he ignored their wary calls of "Stay away from the NightClan border, Lionstar's orders". StarClan, he was so sick of hearing those words. He had to fix this. He couldn't fix Gorsetail... He couldn't undo what was done - but he could protect TreeClan. He could avenge their deputy, his sister's mentor, his father's apprentice.

Brackenstride's wary pace came to a standstill beside the sparkling brook, the young tom lapping at the water, shoulders bunching as he craned his neck to reach it. The scars on his shoulder felt like he'd been marked - doomed to die at Darkstar's claws for his transgressions against NightClan. Brackenstride's muzzle scrunched, baring his teeth at his own reflection. I put an old warrior out of his misery.

Ha, and to think the first few nights after that battle, he'd actually lost sleep, tossed and turned over the realization that he had taken a life. That his paws were stained with blood - and he hadn't even reached his twentieth moon. StarClan, he'd been such a naive little idiot. To think he'd actually regretted Blackwolf's death. There was no going back now. NightClan branded him a killer - and they were going to force him to kill even more before he ever reached senior warrior status.

And StarClan had better mark my words, I WILL live through this.

He was no frightened little mouse to be hunted down. If Darkstar wanted him so badly, she could cross the border and come find him. He was no coward.

Images of Darkstar sneering from StarClan's Claws made his stomach writhe like maggots. Brackenstride audibly snarled, and struck the water - feeling the cool liquid slip through his claws and wishing for all the world tearing Darkstar's throat out would be just as easy. Droplets had splattered his muzzle and chest, and he let them lie. One dark golden ear swiveled, catching the sounds of distant pawsteps headed for the sparkling brook.

✣

Tags || 521 Words || Notes

Greenleaf 13, Year 6: There are faint rumbles in the sky beyond the mountain but the sky is clear with the beating sun and hot bursts of wind gust through the valley.

OOC: Tagging anyone who may want to post here! OPEN TO ANYONE.
@zen (Ivyclaw)
Ginger (Foxfur)
Ghost the Undead Goddess (Timberfrost, Redbird)
@jet (Rocktail)
@poptart (Lily!)

[Ghost the Undead Goddess]

Redbird

Treeclan 33 Moons She-Cat

The pretty Somali had always been a light sleeper, as opposed to her brother who could practically sleep through anything, natural disasters included. Recently, it hadn't been uncommon for her to have been woken up due to the restless sleeping of a younger warrior.

Brackenstride.

Sleepy golden pools slowly opened, peering through a blurred gaze between her feathered tail that lay comfortably upon her nose. The leader's son had found himself upon his paws, nest a complete mess and a tired, shaken look upon his handsome features.

After the younger tomcat fled the stuffiness of the warrior's den, Redbird lifted herself to her petite paws. Jaws parting with a large yawn, she stretched forwards and stuck her rump into the air before shaking herself out. Foxfur muttered something within his sleep and went back to snoring happily, probably flirting with an unlucky she-cat in a dream.

Slipping out of the den, the rusty colored feline followed his scent. She was worried about Brackenstride, and although they themselves weren't friends, he happened to be fairly close with Foxfur. Not to mention he was a clanmate, she had always been one to put others before herself, and this night was no different. 

Something was on the poor tom's mind, and it was bothering him fairly deeply if he hadn't been able to sleep since...

Since the night Blackwolf had been killed. And it had only escalated since the maiming of Gorsetail, a cat who had almost given his life to save Brackenstride. The Somali could only imagine what could have been going through his head, or his heart.

Flickering her tail at the guards posted at the entrance to the camp, the Treeclanner continued to follow Brackenstride's scent. It didn't take long for her to find the younger warrior, petite paws leading straight to where he was staring down at the water by his paws.

"Brackenstride?" Her rasp was soft as she called out, slowly and silently making her way to where he was, ear giving a flicker. "Everything okay? I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." Maybe he needed to see Falconstorm, perhaps get some poppy seeds to ease him.

"Guilt does terrible things to the mind."

375 Words Fawn Ginger Notes

Timberfrost

The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder

The massive tabby had been out of the camp for a while now, unable to sleep and deciding to walk the forests rather than laying, unable to sleep next to the snoozing, mountainous form of Pumafang. Neither her brother nor the other guard had questioned the stripped feline as she silently made her way out into Treeclan's Territory.

It was on her return walk home that she came across the form of Brackenstride, hulking over the sparkling brook before quickly slashing his claws through the reflection. As if that were some effectient way of solving problems. Or, perhaps he could stand the sight of himself. 

His life had drastically changed within the recent seasons.

Brackenstride had killed Blackwolf, an aging warrior from Nightclan who should have retired before entering that battle skirmish. By doing so, he set off a chain reaction, Darkstar, though not leader then, had attacked, maimed and crippled Treeclan's deputy, Gorsetail before earning her nine lives. In which Lionstar refused to acknowledged and in which Darkstar claimed to take the life of Brackenstride.

Did the Little Lion possibly cause the start of a massive Treeclan Nightclan war? Maybe.

But it wasn't like any cat in Treeclan blamed him for all that. Brackenstride had merely been protecting himself, the death a cause of self defense and foolish pride. However, the affects of whatever was bogging down his mind were starting to effect him in both living and sleeping.

Icy pool turned to spy the red coated form of Redbird slip up next to the younger tom, attempting to comfort him with a soft voice and a gentle heart. While she was known for such a kindness, Timberfrost was not. Her frosty tone easily cut through the night air as massive paws took her forwards to face the two from the opposite side of the clearing.

"Guilt does terrible things to the mind." It was a true statement, and Brackenstride should feel guilt for either the death of Blackwolf or the maiming of Gorsetail. Each action in life ripples and causes reactions that no cat can predict or prepare for. This was just one of those times in the grand scheme of things. "And it won't change the past." Her tone, ever as cold as her temperament spoke honesty within her sharp words.

Flickering her tail, the massive tabby moved those cerulean pools from Brackenstride's brilliant gaze to Redbird's more gentler golden pools and back to Lionstar's son. "Revenge isn't usually the best anwser either, but i'm pretty sure you've made up your mind to take Darkstar out. Nine lives and all, huh?" For a second there was a sliver of dangerous intent that made it's way into Timberfrost's gaze before it was snuffed out by that ever to familiar frostiness, though the small smirk upon her maw remained intact.

She Cat | 29 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior

488 Words | Fawn @jet (Pumafang) | Image

[Abyss]

The only way I'm leaving is dead That's the state of my head “Regardless, using your skills against water isn’t nearly enough to prepare you to face a cat who can return from the dead multiple times.” A pair of narrowed amber eyes glared down at the trio from a tree above the brook, a quite fluffy and seemingly spiked red tail dangling from the tree. Foxfire, unknowingly similar to Timberfrost, wasn’t one to remain asleep during the night, nor was she one who stayed in camp too much anymore. Not directly, at least. Anymore, she was often found sleeping within one of the trees that surrounded the Treeclan camp rather than in the Warriors den. She traveled away from camp often, though went on patrols and such with others when told. Granted, there was that sting within her chest each time she found herself following the orders of Pumafang. But it couldn’t be helped anymore. That night, the fiery she-cat had been leaping trees even before Brackenstride had left camp. She wasn’t hunting, nor was she doing this for any reason other than the fact that she could. When Bracken had arrived at the brook, the red cat had been laying in the tree she was currently found in already, having jumped to it from another. She was spread out across the branch, eyes watching as the tom internally tore apart. At the sight of his thoughts taking control and causing him to lash out at the water beneath him, she found herself remembering back when she had her encounter with Red- Speak of the devil. Redbird, the fellow Somali cousin of Foxfire, had arrived. Great. Just great. One of the many cats she had no desire to see. She couldn’t control that, though. She couldn’t do much at this point. To add onto the already curious situation, Timberfrost, a recently-discovered close follower of Pumafang, had also shown up to join the party. Foxfire’s words had been spoken after Timberfrost had said her piece, revealing her presence to the trio. The end of her tail curled and her pupils remained thin, her gaze remaining locked on a mix of Timber and Bracken. Her eyes never turned to that of Redbird. But that didn’t matter. Right now, it was Brackenstride that had, in a way, caused this group to form. It was now he that had to explain, or indulge Timberfrost in her thoughts of him. FOXFIRE TREECLAN WARRIORESS

393 / Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess (not sure who else needs tagged)

[Ginger]

Foxfur slept peacefully, happily, and undisturbed. Harems of she-cats flocking to him for his attention, wanting no one but him. The perfect dream.

Until he was rudely awakened by the rustling sound of his sister exiting the Warrior's Den. Now why on earth would she do that? Foxfur looked to the nest beside him - Brackenstride's - and saw it was empty. Foxfur, unlike the other warriors, could sleep through his friend's recent night terrors, so he chose to remain close to him in order to remind him that he wasn't alone when he woke up terrified. However, that closeness must not have been enough tonight. They must be getting worse. 

Too lazy to follow a scent trail, Foxfur assumed that Redbird was finding Brackenstride and elected to slinkily trail his sister. After a short walk, Foxfur was pleased to see that his assumption was right: Redbird had come upon Brackenstride and was trying to comfort him. Foxfur opened his mouth to reveal himself to the two warriors, but two new voices spoke first: Timberfrost and Foxfire. This was turning out to be a more interesting night outing that expected!

The handsome Somali warrior turned his attention once more to his friend, who looked absolutely terrible. Concern shot through Foxfur's entire being, wanting to help his friend. The issue was that he didn't know how. Foxfur's biggest trauma was getting attacked by a rogue as a kitten, but everyone came out completely okay. The ginger warrior had never taken another cat's life before.

Foxfur walked gently up to Brackenstride, looking into the water beside his friend. Staring at both of their reflections, the difference between the two cats was enormous. Despite being the younger warrior, Brackenstride looked so aged, so harrowed. Foxfur, on the other hand, looked relaxed and innocent. 

The older of the two friends brushed his head up against Brackenstride's, staring at his friend's bloodshot eyes in the reflection in the stream. "I'm going to have to veto taking out Darkstar, but I want you to know..." Foxfur faltered, genuine emotion starting to get the better of him. He hated to see the cats he cared about so alone, so paranoid, so violent. "I'll stand by you. Always."

---

368 words
Fawn , Ghost the Undead Goddess , Abyss

[Fawn]

Brackenstride

TreeClan || 21 Moons || Tom

Cats seem to materialize all around him like fragments of his imagination - each one representing a different emotion, a different aspect of himself all vying for his attention. Brackenstride regarded each of them coolly, golden eyes narrowing at Timberfrost in particular; her brusque entrance and flat remark had his tail flicking in annoyance. "Don't mistake my anger for guilt. I don't regret what I did. I only regret not killing Darkstar before StarClan gave her eight more lives." If he hadn't carried Gorsetail back to camp - if he'd lingered, if he'd lashed out to show her how TreeClan dealt with problems like her - Gorsetail wouldn't be alive.

Then again, neither would Darkstar.

As the massive tabby warrioress had said, he couldn't change the past. All he could do now was carve out a future that included him still breathing.

A dry, needling voice from above had Brackenstride's head whipping up, his narrowed stare fixating onto Foxfire - the dark ginger she-cat skulking in the trees like some sort of carrion bird. He didn't appreciate her company - not many cats did - with her borderline hostile regard for her Clanmates, and her clear jealousy over Pumafang's deputyship, Brackenstride considered her no friend of his.

However, she could work for what he needed.

The press of fur distracted him, the combined soothing efforts of Foxfur and Redbird pulling him away from the edge of darkness - just for a moment. But he couldn't help the stab of disappointment at Foxfur's gentle refusal to help take on Darkstar. "I'll stand by you, always."

Wonderful, Brackenstride growled, you can carry my body back to TreeClan. He shouldn't have expected Foxfur to chime in with any sort of battle eagerness; the tom was a lover of life and a lover of she-cats - the concept of avenging Gorsetail was not something Foxfur could truly sink his claws into.

Not like Brackenstride. Not like Ivyclaw. The young lion glanced towards camp, half-hoping she would arrive too - summoned by some unknown force, like the rest of them had been. When this didn't seem to be the case, Brackenstride returned his gaze to Timberfrost's, returning her frosty stare with one of dark fire.

"I'm feeling generous. There's enough lives for you, me, Ivyclaw and six more to take from that NightClan filth." Brackenstride smirked, knowing Timberfrost and Ivyclaw would be willing cohorts in any plan he devised to take out the cat at the heart of this nightmare. If Foxfur, Redbird and Foxfire were willing, he would need to find only three more cats to finish her off--but the more cats involved, the messier the plan was going to be.

Unless...

"Unless we can take all of her lives in one go. Or at least cripple her so that she is no longer TreeClan's problem." For one perilous second, Brackenstride pictured Darkstar bloody and broken before him, a head wound rendering her almost mute. He could picture the rage in her eyes, but it wasn't triumph he felt, it was revulsion. Darkstar deserved to be eaten alive by maggots. Brackenstride almost shuddered; he didn't think he could stomach knowing he had injured a cat the way Darkstar had injured Gorsetail.

To be alive and yet trapped inside your own head, barely able to speak...

It was a fate worse than death.

Better then that she die knowing she had spoiled her leadership on petty revenge.

✣

Tags || 563 Words || Notes

Ghost the Undead Goddess Abyss Ginger @zen (Ivyclaw mention! Feel free to hop in whenever!)

[Ghost the Undead Goddess]

Timberfrost

The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder

Is it anger, Little Lion, that wakes you up in a panic every night?

The question was silent upon the massive tabby's tongue as it fluttered through her mind. Only those frosted cerulean pools narrowed at the golden coated tom cat across from her. She didn't miss the slow change, the storm building within the broad shouldered warrior as they locked gazes.

The Treeclan warrioress practically ignored the entrance of each clanmate that rapidly appeared, only the flicker of a striped ear showed she listened to each statement brought forth. It was an interesting situation, each cat there of different temperament levels, each with such different personalities.

Each young warriors of Treeclan.

Finally cold ice chips moved as Timberfrost let her gaze run over each feline in attendance of this accidental meeting. The massive tabby's cerulean pools paused as they met the intense, fiery gaze of Foxfire perched comfortably within a tree, like a squirrel. Pulling away from the red coated feline within the branches above, the frosty tempered feline would leave that problem for another day. 

Though, that didn't stop the snark that parted her muzzle. "Yes, attacking water doesn't prepare you to fight a leader just like hiding within a tree doesn't make you a squirrel." Her tone was suddenly colder than it had been previously, sharp as always. 

"Timberfrost." Redbird started, a small warning within her calming tone at the massive tabby's cold rebuttal towards Foxfire. There was obvious tension between the two of them despite their less than rare run-ins with each other. Just as their names, they were of fire and ice, it was likely neither of them would ever mesh well with each other. Though the young feline Somali was met with a tail flick by the massive tabby she-cat.

"I've only known of one cat who lost all nine of their lives at once..." Timberfrost spoke once more, frosted pools returning to Brackenstride where he stood in-between Foxfur and Redbird. Her tone grew terse, as if she didn't enjoy the topic of said cat though her reasons were her own as she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind along with the ancient stories of the former leader told to kits to scare them.

Long, sharp claws retracted from massive paws as the darker side under the surface threatened to flood into those cold orbs of Timberfrost. Muscles rippled under her short, dense pelt as she shifted ever so slightly while letting her mind tumble over the different ideas on which they could possibly exact the Little Lion's revenge. "It would be interesting to see how hard such a task would be..."

It was obvious that the massive tabby would follow with whatever the golden tom decided. Both because she was somehow oddly loyal to the Little Lion, and because she had promised his father, Lionstar, that she would keep him safe. 

Or at the very least, keep him alive.

"We are talking about murder!" Redbird started again, that normally gentle tone raised ever so slightly as she stepped forwards. Her feathered tail lashed behind her as those golden pool blazed with her own flames. "Brackenstride, I can't believe you are even thinking about such a thing." It looked like the Somali she-cat was trying hard not to grow frantic at the situation. "We would be no better than Nightclan, attempting to kill a cat simply because of what they did." It would be the same thing Darkstar is trying to do to Brackenstride....

She Cat | 29 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior

600 Words | Fawn Ginger Abyss | Image

[Abyss]

The only way I'm leaving is dead That's the state of my head Laying across her branch within the tree, the red feline took note of that stare she received as a greeting from Brackenstride. She didn’t expect him to like her, and judging by his expression, she knew that he didn’t. But with the way he began to speak, it was clear that this little unintentional meeting wasn’t about any of their relationships with one another. This was turning into a planning session. The Lionstar descendant stated that Darkstar had enough lives for plenty of cats to take their fair share, causing a very small smirk to form on her face. She did not hold the same grudge against the Nightclan Leader as Brackenstride did. Not too long ago, less than a few moons ago, she would have held a similar grudge. If it hadn’t been for Darkstar maiming Gorsetail, the position of Deputy never would have opened up and Pumafang never would have taken the position of Deputy. Darkstar was the reason that Pumafang was Deputy and not her. But that was before. Momentarily, fiery orange eyes looked down to where Redbird stood among the small group. The last time she had spoken to Redbird was their encounter a few days after the Deputy announcement. That day, Foxfire had accidentally let her inner thoughts escape. After that day, Foxfire’s temper hadn’t flared quite as much, or at least not visibly. She no longer thought about Pumafang unless he was right in front of her. She couldn’t have cared less about him or Lionstar or any of them. Nor did she care what any of them thought of her. At the sound of an icy voice speaking up, Foxfire looked back to Brackenstride rather than the source of the voice. She heard the feline that spoke, Timberfrost, state that being in a tree didn’t make one a squirrel. A very strong smack of irritation flared within the she-cat’s eyes, her gaze glaring down at the large tabby. Her tail lashed very sharply and quickly beneath her. But she didn’t speak. Timberfrost could say whatever she wanted. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the height that came from being in a tree. Plus, Foxfire was a Treeclan cat. If anything, she was able to call herself that more than any of these other fools who preferred the ground. But she didn’t speak. She just looked back to the assumed “leader” of this meeting. She listened very uninterestedly to Redbird’s outburst at the discussion. But she ignored the words of her cousin. As she spoke once more. “Scratching, crippling, killing, taking all eight lives. Regardless of what you wish for this to lead to, how would you do any of this? You can’t exactly just stroll into the Nightclan camp and challenge Darkstar head-on. And you would have to have impeccable timing to catch her out for a walk or on a patrol.” FOXFIRE TREECLAN WARRIORESS

479 / Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess

[Ginger]

Foxfur turned his head to Brackenstride, appalled that his friend had taken such a dark turn. He missed the days in which the two cats were untouched by pain, by death, by suffering. Now, Foxfur barely recognized the warrior sitting beside him, plotting to kill another cat. No, not even to kill another cat. To take every single life of Nightclan's leader, which would no doubt lead to an all-out war. Foxfur had no issues fighting for his clan, but he had many issues with starting a war.

"Nightclan lost a beloved warrior as well from all of this conflict." He flicked his tail, turning his head and addressing Timberfrost and Foxfire as well, who had both been plotting along with Brackenstride. "Haven't both clans suffered enough?" 

Foxfur was no killer. He was a lover. Not only of she-cats, but also of life's other pleasures. He enjoyed making friends, and he had previously chatted with Nightclan cats, finding some of them rather pleasant. He couldn't bear the guilt of being the reason that they suffered more than they already had.

 

---

180 words
Fawn ,  Ghost the Undead Goddess , Abyss
notes: sorry for the short post

[Fawn]

Brackenstride

if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize

"You don't get it, do you?" Brackenstride's sharp gaze pierced Redbird first, and then Foxfur. "Darkstar is going to kill me unless I kill her first. I am not spending the rest of my life ducking NightClan border patrols and constantly checking over my shoulder!" The slender golden tom was bristling with irritation, too many nights of soul-wrenching dreams and the injustice of Darkstar's leadership all rushed up to the surface. He thrust his tail in the direction of the deer path.

"Who cares about NightClan's suffering? The warrior they lost is probably sneering at us from StarClan, growing fat on StarClan mice, meanwhile Gorsetail can barely speak a full sentence to any of us. He was our deputy!" Brackenstride, golden eyes searing, pulled his lips back from his teeth, his chest still tight and aching from the horrors of Gorsetail's mauling.

Because of him.

"There's going to be a war anyway, you'd have to be mossbrained to think otherwise." Brackenstride scoffed at the softer-hearted cats present, wishing they could see past the rosy pink hues of optimism to the ugly reality underneath. "You're right," said Brackenstride, finally looking up to address Foxfire. "Running into Darkstar at the border isn't going to work. So we have to make her come to us. Lure her to the border." The golden tom's mind was churning like flood water, dark undercurrents pulling him into dark thoughts, before he'd swim to the surface and try to remember what he stood for. Honor used to matter in this forest, but honor meant nothing if an entire Clan didn't believe in it.

Brackenstride was aware of the vicious back-and-forth. NightClan took the branch trail. He had killed Blackwolf. Darkstar had maimed Gorsetail. It was TreeClan's turn to lash out to take their pound of flesh. It was maddening, that he could see no peaceful way out of this. If he'd died instead of Blackwolf, then NightClan would have earned TreeClan's fury twice-over; once for the loss of territory and once for the loss of a warrior.

There was no way to avoid the coming conflict.

Instead, they needed to get out ahead of it. Brackenstride drew himself up, that quivering fear in his stomach hardening into steel. He wasn't going to be a victim. Not any more. "Darkstar only cares about avenging her precious mentor. She's got a temper as wide as silverpelt, and cats like that are easily provoked." His gaze rested on Timberfrost last, but not least of all. "We just need the right provocation."

21 Moons TreeClan Tom

417 words Ghost the Undead Goddess Abyss Ginger quote by muhammad ali