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Post by Fawn on Aug 14, 2021 9:55:34 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize Something woke him up. It wasn’t the nauseating press of bodies - so many bodies - against him in this cramped cave, or even the dizzying array of mixed scents. This was a Gathering from Hell and he had accepted that on day one. Instead, what roused the golden-eyed son of Lionstar was a ...feeling. Something gnawing at his belly, something niggling. Not quite a warning, but a sense that something was… off.
Brackenstride lurched out of the drowsy pile that was he, Lilybreeze and Ivyclaw. He stepped carefully around his Clanmates (and less so around the others) until he could get out of the stifling cave and into the fresh air. It was early, the skies above just now beginning to lighten. Brackenstride savored the open air, moving away from the oasis and trying not to look too closely at the valley that unfolded from the Tribe’s mountaintop view. He couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t think about the cats they left behind. The ones who fell. The ones who cried out for help as the ground opened up beneath them.
Brackenstride shuddered, a pitiful moan escaping his throat. The tom paused, realizing the sound hadn’t come from him, but someone nearby. Followed by the tortured, wet gargle of a cat vomiting nearby. Pelt prickling along his spine, Brackenstride zeroed in on the noise, his ears twitching as he caught another pitiful moan. Mossheart.
There, just beyond the shelter of the low alpine shrubbery, was the deputy of TreeClan.
The tom looked awful. Frazzled, with a bit of mud still caked into his fur, as if he simply hadn’t the time to groom himself. Wide eyes were gazing with uncertainty into the surrounding environs, until they swung to meet Brackenstride’s narrow stare of alarm.
“He’s gone.” said Mossheart, voice quavering. “He left.”
Brackenstride darted under a bramble, coming closer. “Who? Who’s gone?”
“Pumastar. I thought he left last night to go hunting, o-or to get fresh air, but he hasn’t come back. The Cave-Guards haven’t seen him.”
Mossheart looked as if the weight of the entire valley had suddenly been placed on his shoulders, the normally soft spoken, levelheaded warrior now as fragmented as their homeland. Brackenstride pitied him and loathed him in equal measure. ”Pull yourself together,” he hissed. ”So what if he’s gone? You’ve got to act like everything’s fine or else everyone will panic!”
The tom’s posture seemed to sink, and Brackenstride inwardly cursed. Had he said the wrong thing? Foxdung! He wanted to grab Mossheart by the pelt and shake him. Shake him until he turned into someone capable. Until he turned into Lionstar and this nightmare could finally end...
Mossheart let out a wearied sigh, and Brackenstride could scent the bile on his breath.
“I didn’t know it was going to be like this…”
Neither did I, thought Brackenstride. His pulse was faster than he’d like it to be, and he too felt the weight of responsibility come crashing down on his shoulders. If Pumafang’s gone and Mossheart’s gone to pieces, who is going to look after TreeClan? Leadership would fall on Falconstorm’s shoulders, but the temperamental healer had not left Kindleflare’s side since they’d arrived - and his abilities were needed by the sick and the wounded.
Just then there was a rustle in the scrubby bushes nearby, and Brackenstride flinched, claws flexing. But it was only Ivyclaw, who raked a scrutinizing look over Mossheart and Brackenstride both. ”Silverstar and Cloverstar are yowling about sending a party to investigate the Moon Tree. You don’t want to miss this.”
The Moon Tree… He glanced to his left just in time to see Mossheart’s desperate glint in his eyes, as if their leader had simply made a pilgrimage to the Moon Tree instead of abandoning them. Brackenstride bit his tongue, resisting his own bile in the form of harsh, damning words and insults.
Together, they returned to the crowded cave, in time to hear commanding voices calling for volunteers.
”No more than five or six should go,” said Dapplefire, standing next to Cloverstar.
”I will send two Cave-Guards with you. They are more familiar with the terrain than Clan cats.” Skyteller spoke calmly from the mouth of the cave, sharing a nod with his Lead Cave-Guard.
Dapplefire hardly looked pleased. “I don’t think we need an escort to our own sacred site.”
”Are you prepared to stake your Clanmates’ lives on your cockiness, Dapplefire?” Silverstar fired back, limping into view. He did not wait for a reply. ”We will accept the escort, Skyteller. As for who to send...”
45 Moons TreeClan Tom Date: Greenleaf 16 - Birdsong is heard in the morning and throughout the day as prey slowly begins to return to the valley. The day is sunny and bright, and things are starting to seem more cheerful. OOC: Open to 4 PCs, 2 or 3 NPCs will be joining if needed. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2021 21:10:28 GMT -5
TREECLAN WARRIOR FINCHCLOUD Got that sunshine in my heart It was Ivyclaw, as she roused, that tugged Finchcloud from his light doze where he was curled close beside his family, and amber eyes gazed after the she-cat for a moment before his ears swiveled and his head followed to where two of the leaders where arguing. Owlstar would probably join them soon, if she wasn't already on her way, and the ginger tom hoisted himself to his paws as he scanned the massed crowd of Clan cats, spotted here and there with cats of the Tribe, all of them lining the floor of the rather crowded cave.
He didn't think the Tribe would be sorry to see the back of the influx of Clan cats, but the Skyteller had been enormously welcoming to the cats who'd had to flee their homes for countless generations, and he was pretty sure there would never be a way to pay back the old Healer. Maybe there'd be a chance, in the future? Those thoughts chased each other around his head- like mice fleeing from a hunter's claws, and the mental image briefly distracted him and made him huff a breath of laughter as he stretched, back arching as he loosened muscles made stiffer by the night spent on the hard stone floor. Finchcloud stepped carefully around and over the cats still sleeping, lifting his head toward the sun and the fresh air that breezed around him.
Brackenstride, Ivyclaw, and Mossheart returned, just as the two leaders seemed to come to a decision, and Finchcloud hurried toward them, ears pricked in interest at the words that reached him. A trip to the Moon Tree? He wondered if they'd mind him joining it; he glanced at Mossheart and then frowned, eyes flicking back toward the cave. Where was Pumastar? Well, Mossheart's approval should be enough, right? "I'd like to go," he spoke up, tail arching over his back, the tip curling before it dipped again and he turned to blink hopefully at his deputy. "If you don't mind, Mossheart?"
Notes | Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess
Got that good soul in my feet
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Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2021 21:27:13 GMT -5
[attr="class","mon2"]  [attr="class","monlyrics2"]FLINTSHADOW OF STONECLAN [attr="class","monbody2"]A restless sleeper, Flintshadow hardly found time between the setting and rising sun to rest his head. And now that all of the clans were confined to the Tribe's cave, his eyes burned from the lack of rest. The red tom found himself laying outside of the cave's entrance, idly drawing in the dirt with one of his paws. The earth, despite the rising temperatures of Newleaf, somehow felt cold. Flintshadow's shuttered, his paw dropping to the group mid stroke. It's as if the land has realized that it has been abandoned. The grim thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Flintshadow was a devote follower of Starclan's word....but would his ancestors really have let half of their clan perish underneath the rubble, or to be sucked up into the land? He had always believed that Starclan was there to help each of the clans grow and flourish under their wisdom, but now? The question left his brow furrowed. [break] Flintshadow's ear twitched as Brackenstride walked right past him. The tom cocked his head, curious as to why he was up at that hour. Then Flintshadow heard the repulsive sound of a troubled cat, and the gurgling and moaning that followed. The warrior debated if he should follow Brackenstride, but decided it was best not to meddle in the other clan's affairs. I'm not sure I even want to see what's out there.... The image of the cats left behind, those too crippled from the weight of the earth, had been burned into Flintshadow's memory; something he'd surely not forget any time soon. [break] The cat returned, this time with another tom and she-cat. Flintshadow narrowed his eyes, all were unfamiliar to him by name but he could recognize the scents. Flintshadow's ears pricked at the mentioning of the Moon Tree. Did the others know something he did not? Rising to his paws, he opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Stoneteller materializing next to him at the mouth of the cave. Suddenly cats were appearing from the brush, all eager to make their way to the clans' sacred land. "I would like to join you," Flintshadow's words escaped his jaws before he had time to consider what exactly was happening. Dipping his head to Silverstar and Stoneteller, he meowed, "If you both do not mind." [attr="class","montag"] Fawn @sable [newclass=.mon2]width:340px;padding:40px;background:#e38c00;[/newclass] [newclass=.mon2 img]height:100px;width:100px;padding:15px;border:1px solid #fff;border-radius:100px;[/newclass] [newclass=.monlyrics2]text-align:center;font-family:verdana;font-size:11px;text-transform:uppercase;color:#fafafa;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.monbody2]width:340px;padding:40px;background:#fafafa;font-size:10px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#555;[/newclass] [newclass=.montag]text-align:center;font-size:9px;[/newclass] [newclass=.montag a]font-size:9px;[/newclass] [newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:8px;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] [newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass] |
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GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Sept 8, 2021 19:43:15 GMT -5
Timberfrost The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder She sat in the shadows, the darkness around her swallowing her massive form where she lurked. Those of her clan, those of the other clans and those of the tribe were all paw-lengths away from her as the tabby molly remained in mild seclusion. Cerulean hues like chips of fridged ice as their watery depths watched the monsterous form of Pumastar slip out of the entrance of the cavern that held all the felines of the valley. The tip of his black tail was the last thing the Treeclanner saw of the ill-named leader that once bore the title of leader.
Now he was nothing but a sniveled husk of a panther, a tomcat that lost his loyalty and his spine.
The tip of the she-cat's tail flickered against her massive paws, though she warrioress did not move from her spot. Instead she sat, like a striped stone within the shadows of the Tribe Cave like the solider she was, blue pools continuously watching the entrance as well as those who bore the same earthy, tree scent as her own. Her duty was not to a solitary cat, but to her clan as a whole and if their pathetic leader didn't want to do his duty then she supposed it had to fall on the shoulders of more presentable cats.
Which obviously didn't include Mossheart, as the pitiful tomcat trailed after Pumastar like kit after a queen.
Timberfrost had been foolish enough to let her guard down around her father's former pupil, but that icy cold wall had returned around her heart. A barrier to keep others out and worthless feelings away as she did her duty. For a moment she had though that perhaps things could be different, she had been foolish enough to believe that there was a path that lay before her paws as the mate of Pumastar.
Fool her once, but not again.
Her large paws flexed for a moment, feeling the scraping of stone beneath dark, curled claws. Let him leave, if he dare showed his nose back into the valley then she would gladly rip the life from his lungs. Timberfrost had told him once, back on the night that Lionstar had appointed the black tomcat as deputy, for the sake of Treeclan she would kill those who threatened it's safety. Traitors and disloyal felines included... It wouldn't have been the first time she's taken the life of one who deserved it. Goldenflame's broken memory would always serve as a point in her life when the massive molly learned her purpose in her clan.
A warrior, a solider, a cat who fought to keep others safe.
An ear flickered as noise rose Timberfrost from the numbness of her chilly thoughts, causing the dark molly to swing her head to the side. The Crowned Prince of Treeclan and the weak mouse of a deputy were standing near each other, a rousing conversation between the two of them. Standing and quietly padding around sleeping forms of fluff and fur, the tabby she-cat pushed herself past the two toms only to throw a frosted stare in Mossheart's direction. Normally there was a lack of expression upon the near-stoic feline's face, but she couldn't help the rise of disgust when it came to her deputy's whimpering.
"Treeclan is Treeclan with or without a leader." She growled in a low, cold tone. Timberfrost could easily remember the words she had snarled at both Pumastar and her codfish brother back when the ground rumbled and shook like an angry demon. Brushfire's body now lay, unfound, beneath mounds of rocks for his insistence in following their father's prodigy, perhaps he was able to look upon Goldenflame's hateful gaze once more in the afterlife. "As far as I'm concerned, Pumafang doesn't deserve that title or those lives." Her tail flickered with her final say, watching as Mossheart shook and lowered his gaze to his paws instead of staring the intense molly in the eyes. Weak!
Padding past Brackenstride, Timberfrost made her way towards where a commotion of noise was gathered. Those frosted chips of hers slowly drew over the forms of Cloverstar and Silverstar, though it seemed as if the other remaining leader had yet to make her arrival. An ear twitched as the striped molly watched others gathering around, the idea of searching for Moon Tree being tossed from muzzle to muzzle. It almost caused a ripple of amusement within her chest, but the more cynical side of her wanted to scoff.
A search for the place in which leaders and healers spoke to their ancestors. What would dead cats do in a situation, they were deceased. Their star-studded ancestors didn't need to fear the terror of living, such as floods or earthquakes. The cats of the clans needed to rely on their own strengths and abilities to get through this devastating time, not worry about communicating with cats who did nothing but judge and talk riddles from their seat among the clouds.
"I'll go." Her chilly rasp rumbled deep within her throat as she spoke, cerulean hues just a icy as her namesake as the massive molly let her gaze shift from the two leaders to the two Treeclanners who had made their requests. That would be three total for her clan, or at least what was left of her clan, and honestly Timberfrost needed to get out of the Tribe's cave. It was cramped and tight with all the bodies lying around, her paws were used to roaming the vast expanse of Treeclan's forests on a daily basis. Trekking to find the stark white roots of the Moon Tree would keep her occupied and busy with a task for her clan. She Cat | 53 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior |
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