|
|
Post by Fawn on Jul 16, 2019 20:56:56 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize The Clancats all said their goodnights, drifting like tired ghosts into the warriors' and apprentices' den; those not on midnight patrol would enjoy the chance to sleep peacefully through till dawn. Brackenstride watched as his father and mother returned to the ancient stump, the camp quickly becoming still and almost lifeless - if not for the cricketsong echoing through the woods, and the faint rustling of the camp's two sentries taking up position.
Brackenstride forced himself to lie still in his nest, brooding and waiting for the first startlingly bright rays of moonlight to spill into the tiny gaps and holes in the fallen log. One beam slipped down almost right between his paws, and speckles of dust glittered like false stars in that singular beam of light.
Brackenstride listened. The breathing of his companions were quiet. Foxfur, in fact, mumbled some she-cat's name and then rolled over, seemingly content to snuggle up to more than just moss in his dreams. The one he was listening for, however, was Pumafang. TreeClan's deputy was a little too good at making sure Brackenstride wasn't on his own that often - as if Darkstar might suddenly drop from the trees to slice his throat open - and knowing where Brackenstride went when not on patrol.
But even Pumafang had to sleep sometime.
Burning from the need to move, to stretch his legs and just have some StarClan forsaken alone time, Brackenstride surged from his nest in a flurry of silent steps, clearing several of his Clanmates in a short but nimble leap. Ha, he celebrated this tiny victory with a twitch of his whiskers in a split-second smirk - then kept moving.
Easy... Easy...
The moonlight turned his golden pelt to silver, and Brackenstride ducked into a nearby clump of ferns just as a set of tall ears pricked in his direction. As he slipped away from the paw-flattened ground around TreeClan's camp, Brackenstride heard a chuckle on the wind, Zephyrfang's unique drawl catching him just as he ducked behind the trees.
'Good luck.'
Brackenstride bared his teeth, shoving his way through a netting of stout brambles, pelt rippling as the thorns tried to snag at him - some caught, but he paid them no mind, stalking through as if this were just another obstacle he had to overcome. Brackenstride circled the great maple, hoping this would tire his body enough that he would be able to sleep - but the problem was his mind.
His head was so full of noise, of pain and regret and desperation and hatred, he didn't know how to quiet any of it. Brackenstride snarled into nothingness, the night overwhelming him. Stars, he'd never felt so alone. Pressing on, Brackenstride was numbly aware of how close he was getting to the NightClan border, and he was numbly aware of how much time he had before a midnight patrol skulked out after him.
NightClan would just now be starting to wake up.
They must have thought him a coward, not showing his face at the border. Brackenstride's fur spiked, frustration pushing him into a quicker pace, until he was striding determinedly to the scentline. NightClan would know he was still here, and that he wasn't afraid of them. The branches of the deer path seemed thinner and more foreboding in the dark, and the hoot of an owl drove any nearby prey away. Pulse pounding in his throat, Brackenstride glowered into the shadows, claws unsheathed.
"You want to kill me?" he hissed to no one. "I'm right here." 21 Moons TreeClan Tom Greenleaf Day 14, Valley Year #6 Dark clouds move over the valley, the air is tense and thunder roars. A few lightning strikes appear in the clouds before the rain cascades down. |
|
| "If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
| |
|
GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
|
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Jul 17, 2019 22:16:32 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 24 Moons Petite gray paws nimbly led the trouble making feline from the underground caverns of Nightclan's camp, past Ghostshadow who was currently the warrior on guard, and out into the darkening forests of their pine covered territory. The young she-cat had given her brother nothing more than a flicker of her feathered tail as she slipped away into the growing shadows of night.
She was so terribly bored.
While she was initially heading towards the mountainous side of the clan's territory, the mischief maker paused to give a side glance with those green pools towards Treeclan's looming scent.
Graywolf had technically been banned from being along that border. She had been in both fights to take back the territory once claimed as Treeclan, not to mention she enjoyed starting problems as much as she did causing mayhem.
But, that didn't mean she couldn't sneak over there before the border patrol of Nightclan's made their way over there. Plumed tail flickering back and forth over Graywolf's back, the young feline finally decided to go with trouble, as always and quickly trotted through the trees towards her new destination.
Burning emerald practically glowed in the dark as the gray she-cat slunk from tree trunk to tree trunk, keeping to the shadows and staying out of sight. Ears swivled upon her head as Graywolf caught noise before sighting the young tom who bore Treeclan's disgusting scent.
Eyes narrowed quickly, sharp iris' identifying the cat as Brackenstride. There was a ping of pain within her chest, the loss of her grandfather still there though growing fainter and fainter as time passed. Lip curling up, sharp fangs flashed briefly as a low growl threatened to rise within the she-cat's chest.
Claws flexed and dug into the hard ground as they were pushed from small paws, the slender feline practically ready to burst from the darkness so very like their clan's namesake. He had practically presented himself like a dumb, fat rabbit sitting upon her paws.
Mouse-brain!
Tail lashing behind her, Graywolf shot forwards quiet and swift, the shadows slipping away to announce her presence as she charged straight for the larger wild cat in a streamline fashion. That massive growl of hers rose from her chest before she leaped, intending to knock Brackenstride from his paws.
Intending to pin him to the ground, to drain the life from his flailing body as he had done to Blackwolf.
I'm Trouble, Y'all 410 Words || Fawn || Notes |
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Jul 30, 2019 9:46:39 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize A dark gray shape hurtled out of the darkness as if his challenge had solidified and richocheted off the nearest pines. Brackenstride hissed in surprise, bowled over by a flurry of dense gray and pricking thorns. No! He couldn't expose his belly like this! Already paws were pressing down against his chest and throat, the tom sprawled flat on his back, a jarring pain shooting up from the base of his tail on account of the impact. With a feral clench of his teeth, Brackenstride got his back legs under his opponent, hind claws digging into the soft downy underbelly above him - and shoved hard.
As soon as there was breathing room, Brackenstride shot to his feet, stance set low and meant for quick darting movements while he assessed his opponent. It was a she-cat, that much was obvious by her scent and the feminine set to her features - but it wasn't the chaotic mottling of Darkstar's pelt that he was looking at. This she-cat was solid gray from her ears to her tail tip; a different cat than he was expecting, but the hatred in his eyes felt all too familiar.
Brackenstride's whole body tensed, expecting the rush of many more pelts as a whole patrol streamed out of the pine forest - but nothing happened. She was alone, like him.
Something clicked in Brackenstride's brain as he clawed through his own thoughts for a connection. He had seen her before. "You!" It finally hit him, and he braced himself for further attacks. "You were at the deer path." No need to elaborate. She had been present when he'd killed Blackwolf - Timberfrost's opponent, if his memory still served.
Admittedly, Brackenstride had left that fight feeling sick to his stomach, numb with disbelief over having taken a life once the rage of battle had cleared from his golden eyes. StarClan, that day felt like it was a thousand moons ago. Yet the effects of Blackwolf's death were still rippling outward like a shockwave, making the earth beneath his paws unsteady with every step.
"I have no business with you," Brackenstride mewed flatly. "Why don't you run along and fetch your leader? Tell her let's finish this!" He was not confident he could do more than kill Darkstar once, but despite the frantic pound of his blood in his ears, Brackenstride felt every instinct urging him forward. He needed to have this fight, to sink his claws into the cat behind all of TreeClan's latest pains and sufferings. 21 Moons TreeClan Tom |
|
| "If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
| |
|
GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
|
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Aug 3, 2019 1:47:26 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 24 Moons The lithe feline hit her mark, though the two of them went rolling around on the soft ground before she herself got tossed off. The classic move of the hind-legs to the soft underbelly drove the breath right out of the gray pelted she-cat. With lack of balance for a moment, she went tumbling onto the ground nearby before quickly finding her paws underneath her once more.
Green eyes ablaze, the Nightclanner quickly locked onto the handsome tom across from her, his stance ready for another quick onslaught if she attempted it. Ears remained flat against the top of her head as the medium coated she-cat tried to regain her breath for a moment.
Disbelief and rage welled up within Graywolf's chest as Brackenstride spat at her, practically dismissing her like she were some mouse-brained apprentice that had no right to be at the border. Her feathered tail, usually curled playfully over her back, lashed angrily behind her. "Too bad you're my business."
Gone was the silky, sweet tone that Graywolf was normally associated. Gone was the mischievous undertone or the siren like purrs before her normal trouble causing antics. Her voice was sharp and pointed, pain bubbling within her chest as she remembered the life and blood leaving the battered body of her grandfather.
Who had died at Brackenstride's own claws.
The gray feline stepped forwards, claws sinking into the ground as she edged closer towards Lionstar's offspring, those green pools bearing down on him like an emerald fire. "I watched you kill Blackwolf." Despite all her rage, she could feel her heart ache and she had force her voice not to waver.
"You think because we are from Nightclan that we have no hearts, that we are just a bunch of mindless, blood thirsty cats." She snarled, fangs bright as her lip curled up. She could see her memories, the earliest times she could remember as a kit sitting at the old black tom's paws and listening to enrapturing stories of the glory of Nightclan. She could remember the stories other apprentices told during the gatherings, the ones about the horrors of Nightclan, and how their cats would come eat misbehaving kits.
The other clans didn't understand Nightclan, they didn't want to.
"Just because we have Nightclan blood doesn't mean we don't love just as fiercely as the rest of you squirrel-hearted Treeclanners." To Graywolf, it wasn't just about Nightclan against Treeclan. It was personal. This young tom across from her stole the life of someone very precious within her life, and he was going to pay. Darkstar wanted vengeance and retribution for Blackwolf's death, Graywolf wanted revenge just as easily.
"I watched you kill my grandfather." But as she said those words, her heart waved with the problem placed before her paws. Could she actually murder this cat in cold blood?
I'm Trouble, Y'all 483 Words || Fawn || Notes |
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Aug 12, 2019 9:29:12 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize Brackenstride's ears flattened in shock. Her grandfather? StarClan, this was all just getting better and better. He narrowed his eyes at the gray she-cat, trying to find the family resemblance; she didn't look a thing like her grandfather. Instead of a scarred sleek black pelt, this cat was cloaked in dense-gray fur, more cloud-like than anything. A feathery tail, gleaming green eyes, petite features.
Why would she lie to him? To get him to second guess his strikes? To make his courage waver? The pain in her voice sounded real enough.
"Your grandfather was psychotic!" Brackenstride snapped, remembering with fresh clarity the fear and horror he'd felt under the black tom's claws as the cat pinned him over and over again. "You say you have hearts? That you love fiercely? Well the cat I fought was a monster! I never saw a warrior who enjoyed hurting others! And after what Darkstorm did to Gorsetail--"
The golden tom's voice cracked, so angry he could barely get the rest of the words out. So much blood. Their old deputy had lost so much blood Brackenstride had felt hollow, terrified of what was most certainly a dead Clanmate he'd helped carry home - but, despite Darkstorm's heinous attack, Gorsetail had survived.
But he would never be the same again.
Brackenstride stuck his jaw out, tail lashing in open defiance, claws flexing. She doesn't care what I say. I'll always be the enemy. Why am I wasting my breath? She was going to attack him again - he'd bet a week's worth of prey on it - and he wouldn't take back his words. A low growl rumbled from Brackenstride's throat. "I didn't have a choice. It was either him or me. I'd do it again if I had to." Never had he anticipated an audience with NightClan, and Brackenstride couldn't make sense of the emotions pouring out and refilling him like an endless stream.
A part of him wanted her to understand. He hadn't wanted to take a life; that old NightClan tom had been rotten, his honor decayed and his temper the thing that drove him - why was he, Brackenstride, suffering because he'd defended himself?
Because Blackwolf mattered to NightClan. Because that was the kind of warrior they valued. Brackenstride took a step back, as if he might catch whatever twisted ideology NightClan used to embrace warriors like that. "I defended myself." Golden eyes were dark, moody with the certainty of his words. "Take it or leave it, that's the truth." 21 Moons TreeClan Tom |
|
| "If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
| |
|
GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
|
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Aug 23, 2019 1:47:47 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 24 Moons Irritation flared within those brilliant green pools. feathered tail lashing back and forth behind her slender form. She wanted to snap back at the younger tom, to ignore his logic and reason because of the ache that still wriggled it's way into her heart. An ache she had tried to bury in rage and revenge, but it seemed she wasn't as violent as her previous mentor.
She wasn't even as violent as her late grandfather.
Brackenstride wasn't lying, Blackwolf would have killed him without a second thought within the old tom's head. It wouldn't have been the first cat he killed, Graywolf remembered the stories told to her and her siblings as kits sitting at his graying paws.
The slender feline was a Nightclanner through and through, she'd live and fight and die by the shadowy ties of her clan. She wore it like a badge of honor, pride wound tightly within her DNA. Her genes came from legends of Nightclan, stories to be told for generations.
And yet, when it came down for her to sink the claws into the golden tom's pelt, to sink her fangs into the throat of Blackwolf's killer... she couldn't do it. Her life obviously wasn't in danger at the moment, as Brackenstride wasn't after her blood and he told her to return home.
He was on a solitary mission, similar to that of Darkstar.
Logically, Graywolf knew that if she had been in Brackenstride's position she would have fought valiantly for her life, even if that mean't killing another cat to do so. But that just irritated the feathered feline even more, the fact that she understood why the stinking Treeclanner did what he did.
"He wasn't psychotic..." The slender she-cat snarled, "He was an amazing fighter and he knew what he was doing." Graywolf shifted her paws for a moment, realizing that she had unintentionally agreed with Blackwolf's decision to try and kill Lionstar's young son.
"I guess... the same way your Gorsetail knew what he was doing when he stopped Darkstar from killing you..." She said begrudgingly, emerald gaze lowering to her paws for a moment. This Brackenstride certainly had the luck of Starclan on his side if he avoided death not once, but twice from two dangerous Nightclanner.
A self-deprecated snort left Graywolf's nose as she returned those blazing green pools to Brackenstride's face, her expression an unreadable mischievous glint and a smirk on her muzzle. "He's probably so disappointed in me that I don't have the capability to just murder you."
It wasn't like she wasn't used to disappointing cats, especially with her blatant disregard for rules or respect.
I'm Trouble, Y'all 449 Words || Fawn || Notes |
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Sept 2, 2019 11:37:04 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize "Those situations aren't alike," he growled, not going to let her compare the dead homicidal Blackwolf with TreeClan's former deputy - a deputy who knew the meaning of sacrifice and compassion-without-reward. "Gorsetail's a hero." Even now, Brackenstride's throat tightened. He had a hard time swallowing the truth: that Gorsetail's last act as deputy had been saving his life.
StarClan, I'm not going to let Gorsetail's heroism go to waste. He was a squirrelbrain for being here, looking for trouble - he saw that now. Graywolf's smirk and the glint in her eyes snapped him from his thoughts; her eyes were as green as a dragonfly, and shined in the moonlight in a way that was almost... appealing. Brackenstride's brows raised, and he let out a disbelieving laugh. "Wow. Well keep on disappointing that old graymuzzle," he scoffed, something like humor flashing through golden sights, the only part of him that didn't look like a muted silver in the stark light of the moon. "I happen to like being above ground."
I have some unfinished business.
A silence between them carried an unspoken question: what now? She was on her side of the border, and he was on his. Would Graywolf warn him if a patrol was coming? It bugged him that he couldn't tell. There was something lively and passionate about this she-cat that he took notice of - but their Clan differences, the pure animosity between TreeClan and NightClan, kept him from saying anything beyond a few hostile quips or digs at her grandfather.
Brackenstride felt some of his anger begin to reshuffle, dropping below the surface and becoming harder to tap into. Questions he didn't want to answer took the place of rage and conviction. If a TreeClan patrol were coming, would he warn her? No, he latched onto that idea like an old, slow mouse. It frustrated him to know that the answer was leaning towards maybe. No matter how you looked at it, he was responsible for her grandfather's death. He didn't deny that.
Did he owe her something? Did NightClan believe in retribution that wasn't a cold corpse at their feet?
The handsome golden tom shook out his pelt. This was NOT the solitary break he'd been looking for, and the pretty gray warrioress in front of him was absolutely to blame for it. 21 Moons TreeClan Tom |
|
| "If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
| |
|
GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
|
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Oct 13, 2019 13:54:49 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 24 Moons Green pools glittered with amusemt as they rolled towards the night sky in an exaggerated gesture as the tom across the border. For some reason, the pretty she-cat kept her mouth shut about the fact that his statement was fairly bias, coming from the warrior who had been saved by the old Treeclan deputy. No matter what she said about the subject, Brackenstride would always see it the way he did.
In the end, he would praise Gorsetail and she would remember Blackwolf.
Flickering that feathered tail, the Nightclan warrioress stood to dip her front end down and spread her toes in a fabulous stretch before shaking out her soft, gray pelt. It was getting later into the night and a patrol would be around sooner or later. She'd likely get reprimanded for being around the border Rainfur told her not to go to, but rules had never stopped her from doing what she wanted to before.
As for Brackenstride...
He'd more than likely be okay, as the warriors chosen to patrol the Deer Path were usually calm tempered and level-headed. Cats who weren't about to leap into un-needed bloodshed and battle with war looming so close within the shadows. Graywolf did not fall into such catagories, she was wild and practically untamable. She did what she wanted, when she wanted too all for her own benefit and the thrill of fun.
"As much as I'd love to stay and... Play..." That silky siren voice of hers purred, the glittering with emerald pools certain showed she meant what she said. "Pretty sure the next patrol should be here shortly, so you might want to run on home to your nest." A smirk slowly curled its way across her gray muzzle as she lifted a paw to shake it as if beconing him off.
It was an odd thing, to warn another clan, an enemy even, if danger was lurky within the night, but Graywolf didn't play by the rules. Brackenstride was no threat to her at the moment, so why should she give him reason to believe she was a threat. No point in him getting caught between a rock and a tree, and despite the harsh beginning of their run it, she found she rather liked pressing his buttons.
Another thing she was apty great at.
"Try not to sit there and stink up the border, yeah?" With a final chuckle, a breathy purr that rumbled within her chest, Graywolf turned to slip back into the undergrowth and shadows of Nightclan's pine forests. The faint moonlight only outlined her silverish form before darkness licked it away from sight, the final feathers of her tail dipping away.
Until next time, Brackenstride...
I'm Trouble, Y'all 460 Words || Fawn || Thread Done! |
|
