[♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟]

Splash of Leaping Trout

tribe of forgotten waters

Splash of Leaping Trout's nose twitched, a sleeplessness overcoming here that she couldn't shake. The torbie's mouth tasted dry, though she had eaten earlier that day. Her parched tongue drew over her lips, and she raised her head from her nest, eyes glinting in the darkness. It was very late at night, her first night as a Cave-guard To-be, and she could hear the soft breathing of her siblings and her new denmates around her. Their snores would have irritated her if it wasn't for the sleepy thought that she should be comforted by the sounds of her Tribemates breathing. Her paws ached as she stood and stretched, her tail flourishing. She squeezed out of her nest of feathers and pine needles, squeezing into the open. She missed the familiar warmth of her mother and father, their closeness lulling her into contented sleep.

But she was grown up now, or at least she had to start growing up. Stifling a sad sigh, Splash glanced towards the path that led down to the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. She had never walked down there without Dusk and Snow close by her side, watching her every step. She held her breath. She was a To-be now, if she couldn't trust herself to take care of herself, then how could she ever be able to protect her Tribe? She slipped out of the cave-entrance like a phantom, her tail whisking behind her. The stone path was slick with water spray, as it always was, and she reminded herself to take her careful time as she began to make her way down the slippery slope. Her claws unsheathed and dug into the ground beneath her for better grip, and she kept pressed against the stone wall as her parents had always taught her. The moon was a pale white eye that glared down from a milky sky. It had been raining all afternoon, and the night air was still moist and fresh with the scent of it.

It felt like an eternity when she finally reached the bottom of the path, the pool reflecting the starry night sky. She glanced up, her green-gold eyes paler and sharper in the moonlight. She had often been told by the Tribe that the Tribe of Endless Hunting looked down from that starry swath, observing all that the Tribe did below. When a cat died, their spirit left their body behind to sour up above the clouds and join the Tribe of Endless Hunting, where they would reunite with the souls of lost loved ones. Splash wasn't sure if she believed that. She had never seen a spirit-cat, and something in her heart told her that they were just stories to make the loss feel easier, so that cats could tell themselves that someday, they would all meet again in some better place.

She wondered that if this magical Tribe in the sky existed, would Pebble have joined them? The thought of the she-cat that had given birth to her and suckled her in the first few moons of her life left her with a hollow pang in her chest. She hardly remembered her at all, and that made her feel somewhat guilty. Did she have a responsibility to remember Pebble? Loner cats were, as the word implied, alone. Pebble's kin, her siblings, her parents, would never know that she was no longer alive. But as far as her memories went, Snow had always been her mother. That vague memory of the scent of milk and that small hollow in the dirt where she'd been born was so distant she wasn't sure if she was making it up or genuinely recalling something from her early life. More vividly was the memory of crows jostling at the entrance, beaks gaped wide as they snapped and pecked at the mewling bundles of fur that were her and her littermates.

A scrape of claws on rock made her jump, and turn her eyes towards the looming darkness. She wasn't sure if she'd even heard it, the waterfall was so loud and thunderous that she felt nearly deaf to the sounds of the mountains. But there, she heard it again. "Who's there?" She squinted into the shadows, a slight bristle of unease running through her long pelt. Perhaps she shouldn't have come down here alone.

I got spirit I got wings
I got fire in my lungs

725 
_{Fawn for Dusk mention, Taxx for Snow and Stone mention}

[Phoenix]

[googlefont=Chathura]

echo in storm-dark sky

What exactly had roused him, he wasn’t at first sure, but it had been the type of awakening that had brought him to instant clarity and awareness. Pale green eyes blinked in the darkness as he glanced around at the sleeping forms of his Tribemates, his fellow prey-hunters closest to him while the cave-guards slept closer to the single entrance of the cavern. Nothing seemed out of place, but he could tell instinctively that there would be no more sleep for him tonight. No matter; on the whole, Echo slept very well, so he could hardly complain about the occasional sleepless night. Plus there was a certain peaceful freedom that came with being the only feline awake, an opportunity to be alone with his thoughts for company. On quiet paws, as if he was stalking some unsuspecting prey, he played his usual game of carefully extracting himself from the pile of prey-hunters while avoiding stepping on any stray paws or tails. It was an interesting, low-stakes challenge that changed every night, and he felt as though it was good practice for remaining nimble and light on his feet.

He directed his steps toward the cave exit. He had to go make dirt, and he figured that now was as good a time as any to do so. Out of habit, pale green glanced over the mass of bodies huddled in the curve of the wall near the exit, and in the faint light, he could make out the sleeping form of Rose in amongst the cave-guards. With her dark ginger fur, she stood out amongst the grays and browns of the other cave-guards. Echo could not help but pause in his stride to watch her sleep. When she was awake, she always managed to take his breath away, and he had discovered over the moons that he had almost as hard a time pulling his eyes from her sleeping form as he did when she was awake. It wasn’t his fault, really – she was just so captivating. He could watch her all night, and sometimes he did. But not tonight. Tonight, he had to go make dirt.

I’ll be back soon, my flower. She slept on, oblivious, but no matter.

Despite his silent promise, Echo took his time meandering down the narrow path, away from the cave that the Tribe called home. The bite of the frigid nighttime air, especially during the Time of Frozen Water, was unforgiving compared to the relative warmth of the cavern that he had left, and it helped to chase away the lingering vestiges of sleep that had clouded the corners of his mind. Though cold, it wasn’t a wholly unpleasant season, he mused, glancing at the pool of water as he passed. When the mountains were blanketed with a thick layer of snow, there was a particular stillness and silence that he found mildly interesting. And, of course, there was the ever-present promise of danger. If one were particularly unlucky, one misstep could cause an avalanche….

Having finished his business, he retraced his steps back up the familiar trail, only to find that he was no longer the only cat awake. She was young, the long-furred torbie, and had only just become a cave-guard to-be, though Rose was not her mentor. It was a shame, almost, for he thought their pelts would complement each other very nicely; after all, Splash had the potential to grow into a beautiful young she-cat as well. Claws, unsheathed to allow for better grip, scraped on rock as he approached her, and she turned to stare with narrow golden eyes in his general direction. Such a look was not good on her, he thought idly, as his dark-furred form stepped into view.

“Just me,” Echo greeted her politely as he approached, giving her the chance to recognize him before moving to sit beside her. “Am I ok here, Splash?” He gave her a small smile, knowing that most cats found such an expression reassuring, though he himself was ambivalent toward it. “It’s a nice night.” Pale green eyes landed on the pool of water before them, appreciating the way the still surface so nicely mirrored the clear sky above. Cold air meant clearer stars, he had noticed – another nice part of this season – and maybe she was out here to admire them. “Hey, are you looking at the stars? They’re very pretty tonight.”

Prey-Hunter of the Tribe

♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 | background image

[♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟]

[googlefont="Roboto Condensed"]

Splash of Leaping Trout

tribe of forgotten waters

It was Echo. The black tom manifested himself from the shadows, a dark paw stepping out from the dark as if he had been morphed there. A cat of shadow. His green eyes glinted almost white in the dark, accentuated by the distant white peaks that loomed in the backdrop. Splash relaxed immediately, her own golden eyes losing their suspicious glare. This was her Tribemate, a prey-hunter. There was no need for distrust or fear. He was polite as he dipped his head to her, his green eyes catching the glint from the falling water. It was likely just her imagination, but Splash was certain that the waterfall roared louder as the handsome tom loomed in her path. He trotted down towards her, seating himself and peering down into the pool with her as if trying to figure out what she was looking at. "You're okay." She meowed, glad for the company. Not to mention, he didn't seem as chatty as some of the others in the Tribe, so he wasn't annoying to listen to. He certainly wasn't as big a blabbermouth as her own guide.

When Echo pointed out the stars, Splash couldn't help but lift her head to peer up at the vast sky. "They are." She agreed, breath fogging before her mouth. "I was wondering..." She shuffled her paws, suddenly nervous. She didn't know how Echo would feel about her question, if he would take offence or tell other cats she was even more of an outsider than her blood marked her so for some. "I was wondering about the Tribe of Endless Hunting." She murmured quietly. "If it's really true that there are dead cats up there." Her golden eyes flickered to his, then back up. "It doesn't make any sense to me." She admitted. "If you can't see them, how can you even be sure?" If there really was a massive territory stretching across the black, full of peaceful spirits, shouldn't they be able to see even a hint, a glimmer of this truth?

I got spirit I got wings
I got fire in my lungs

339 Phoenix Notes

[Phoenix]

[googlefont=Chathura]

echo in storm-dark sky

She let him sit next to her with no protest, and for a moment, he wondered if approaching his beautiful Rose would be so easy. A heartbeat later, he berated himself for his idle foolishness. Of course not. Splash, though a she-cat and pretty in her own right, was no Rose. His flower was perfection, an idol who deserved nothing but the best of what he had to offer. Interacting with the young to-be may have been practice for the main event, but he could not afford to lower his standards simply because the most important she-cat was not watching.

The movement of her orange and black head in his peripherals had him shifting his pale green gaze from the surface of the pool of water before them to the feline beside him. Splash had directed her eyes upward, and he found the arch of her neck rather elegant. His gaze traced the patterns in her mottled fur as he admired the way the moonlight seemed to make the occasional streak of white shine. With her long fur offering a certain majesty that his own short fur lacked, Splash cast the same regal silhouette as Rose, though he did not know if the younger she-cat had the same natural grace as the stunning cave guard who prowled through his dreams. Jaws parted as the to-be, unaware of the comparisons drifting across the mind of her silent companion, began to speak of death and life after death, and Echo’s gaze traveled back up the length of her frame to meet her gaze.

He blinked, head tilting slightly as he considered the quiet admission. Like any young cat growing up in the Tribe, he had, of course, been told about the Tribe of Endless Hunting, but he had never stopped to truly consider the implications of their beliefs – or even whether he himself believed. To him, death simply was the most permanent method of removing cats from his life. Sometimes it took a few days to become accustomed to the sudden absence and rid himself of old habits like speaking of the deceased as if they were still around, but in the end, life carried on as if the dead had never existed in the first place.

Death was simple. But what happened after death?

“They say there are,” Echo said, somewhat hesitantly, dark-furred shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Why would they lie to us?” He wasn’t sure what he thought about this, and he wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear from him. There were far more qualified cats she could be talking to about this, like Skyteller or her mentor or Rose. Rose would know what happened after a cat died; she knew everything. He wished Rose were here, because she would know exactly what to say. “Maybe it’s something you just know.” Like how he knew that his flower belonged to him and they were destined to be together.

“You must be really smart if you’re thinking about this.” It was certainly something that had never crossed his mind. “Do you think they’re right about cats being up in the sky?”

Prey-Hunter of the Tribe

♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 | background image