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Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2012 3:19:49 GMT -5
Smokefur moved over and gave the tom room to lay down if he pleased while she contemplated the best answer to his question. What was scary about Rookfrost? She was quite certain that she was scared of him, but for some reason she just couldn’t put a legitimate reason to it. She could easily give a reason she felt deep inside was true but without any real proof there was no reason to even try to pass it off as an acceptable answer to the question. “Well…” She said breaking the silence and affording herself a little more time to contemplate, “He is just so strange, I can’t say being strange and unique is a bad thing but he just seems to rub me in all the wrong ways.” She added simply, “He has some kind of god-complex I’m sure, just listening to him speak I wonder if he has an empathetical bone in his body.” She added sitting down as she flicked her tail, “Ontop of that something about him just seems dangerous compared to the other medicine cats.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2012 15:02:07 GMT -5
I wish I could do better by you because that's what you deserve... Nettlefur watched Smokefur think. It was hard to believe that she was Ravenstar's sister... the two hardly resembled each other. And the medicine cat's gentler disposition set her apart from her more, well, intense sister.
The mottled tabby laid down, his eyes not leaving the silver she-cat as she spoke. "Ah, I find it's best to trust your instincts," he mewed. Rookfrost. He would pay more attention the the long-furred medicine cat next time he was at a gathering. "Luckily, you've got big strong warriors like me to protect you!" he joked, a pathetic cough following his words, adding to the hilarity of the situation. ... You sacrifice so much of your life in order for this to work. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 110 Notes; :)
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2012 1:44:15 GMT -5
Smokefur looked at the warrior as he commented on her senses, she did feel as a medicine cat and an empathetic she-cat she was very good at judging others character. She couldn’t tell you for sure if they were what could be so plainly called good or evil, but she could most definitely sense danger and her fur stood up when she was next to him for too long. The comment about strong warriors made the silver medicine cat let out a small purr of laughter, “You may be kidding but I do thank you all for that, I am aware that I am not a fighter and without you I would be a helpless she-cat in a very dangerous world.” She said dipping her head respectfully to the warrior, “Don’t think I am so prideful I can’t accept the truth, you don’t have to be embarrassed you know as well as I do I need protected.” She said lying down as she continued to purr softly.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2012 14:49:52 GMT -5
While I'm out chasing my own dreams, sailing around the world... The mottled tabby tom purred softly, content here under the stone roof of the medicine cat den. The herbs had begun to take effect, and his breathing was significantly easier now. "Ah, all of StarClan in your sight and all of NightClan at your paws," he mused, "And still you are simply lovely to be around." Smokefur's modesty was truly impressive, he thought, and another sharp contrast from their leader, Ravenstar. But the sisters seemed so utterly fit for each of their positions: Smokefur's quiet compassion, Ravenstar's intense influence. Nettlefur's pride in NightClan extended to the wisdom with which it was led and nurtured. Feeling extremely gratified, despite the hunger in his belly and the thinness that engulfed his clan, he inhaled, finally becoming a bit accustomed to the sharp scent of herbs.
Faults. Nettlefur pondered faults. He occasionally noticed those of other cats, and was acutely aware of his own. Cats, all cats, were simply riddled with them. Whole clans, made up of merit and of fault; it was essentially what drove cats to do anything, wasn't it? A constant limbo. Who decided what good and what was not, anyways? StarClan? Certainly not. StarClan was made up entirely of cats who had once left pawprints on the earth. They must still contain faults of their own. The thought struck him, and he shifted his consideration to that. StarClan has faults. Of course it did. Of course they did. They were all just cats, some walking among the stars, some treading on and within the soil... But all just cats. Exhaling, he raised his gaze to Smokefur, itching to ask what it was like to speak with StarClan, but knowing that it was none of his business. Instead, he asked, "Is it hard to care for the clan by yourself?" ... Please know that I'm yours to keep, my beautiful girl. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 311 Notes; Sorry it took so long!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2012 21:46:37 GMT -5
Smokefur sat back and thought about the toms question for a moment, Nettlefur had actually asked a rather insightful question. The medicine cat wasn’t even sure the answer, it had always been work to her and she was happy to do it even when her schedule got hectic and busy. “Hmmm…†she replied trailing off letting him know that he had been heard and that she wasn’t ignoring him as she contemplated just how she wished to answer his question. It was taking her long because she liked him and his questions, she didn’t want to give him a typical cookie cutter answer that many of medicine cats would have. Smokefur planed to give Nettlefur the most honest and truthful answer she could, and she eventually decided to go with “Well it’s a yes and no question, it’s kind of hard being the only one with deep medical knowledge.†She said in a gentle voice, “The clan takes care of itself Nettlefur, queens caring for their kits friends and mates making sure the other cat is doing okay, physically and emotionally.â€
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2012 23:51:08 GMT -5
When you cry a piece of my heart dies, knowing that I may have been the cause... The silence that followed Nettlefur's question didn't concern him too terribly much. He was, by nature, a rather pensive cat, and he, of all cats, understood the thought that filled that quiet. Drawing his long tail around his paws, his tousled fur standing out in the soft light, his green-spotted brown gaze fell on the small silver tabby. It suddenly occurred to him how much she must know, and how valuable that knowledge was. Not to mention the connection she shared with StarClan. The importance of passing on that knowledge struck him. What would a clan be without a medicine cat? Lost.
Her words broke the comfortable hush, and he nodded, purring. "I can't imagine!" he remarked. "I guess that's what these charming little clans are for, aren't they? Taking care of one another." The question was rhetorical, and his head cocked to the side a bit, as new thoughts filled his mind. A few moments of silence proceeded his next words.
"Why is it," he inquired, once again letting his curiosity take him over, "that StarClan channel themselves mainly into one cat per clan?" He raised his eyes to the stone ceiling, as if trying to see the stars through its bulk. Surely it would make sense to communicate with more cats; to walk in their dreams, to guide their paws. But certainly there was some reason for the lack of this interaction with other cats. Pondering this, he once again studied the small she-cat, a warm expression upon his face. ... if you were to leave, fulfill someone else's dreams, I think I might totally be lost. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 256 Notes; Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry this took so long!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2012 19:33:16 GMT -5
Smokefur didn’t take much time to think of an answer to Nettlefur’s question, she didn’t have to. She had thought about it plenty on her own, why was she the only one that was to speak to starclan, why were medicine cats the only ones graced with the gift from the beyond. The fact that the silver medicine cat couldn’t think of a logical answer was all the reason she needed to come up with the best answer she could. “It’s one way of doing things.†She said simply, “Either they share it with one or many and for some reason its one. Perhaps it’s for reasons we don’t even know, maybe they can only reach certain cats. Maybe we don’t actually have a hand in choosing our medicine cat apprentices at all, it could all be guided by the paws of starclan.†Smokefur finished knowing she hadn’t really answered his question very well but it was the best answer she had.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2012 23:01:31 GMT -5
You don't ask for no diamond ring, no delicate string of pearls... Smokefur's prompt answer indicated that he was not the only cat to contemplate this, and a short silence fell between them. "But..." he chose his words carefully, deliberately. "Aren't they just cats?" The question seemed almost sacrilege, and he studied the edge of his nest for a moment. Why did he feel... well, almost guilty about wondering?
He had faith in StarClan, but he wished that they would reveal themselves to him. Just once. He followed them piously, believed in their power. It would be nice if they took just a moment to show themselves to me. So that he would not be following them so blindly. Was it right of them to ask that of cats? It was true that they watched over the clans, and that they communicated with the medicine cats, but the cats of the clans dedicated their lives to them. Living by the rules that StarClan set, teaching StarClan's lessons to generation after generation. Would it be so hard for a single one of them to walk in his dreams?
Realizing that the silence had dragged on too long, and that his expression must have changed as he brooded over it, he sighed and looked back up to Smokefur. "I know that they are certainly wise, and ethereal, but they were all once cats like you and I, were they not?" It seemed absurd to think otherwise. His own ancestors, who walked among the stars. Suddenly it occurred to him that that idea had been the only one ever taught to him... that StarClan itself may simply be some silly theory, nursed and given longevity by the tales passed from queen to kit. But then he thought of Smokefur, and of the other medicine cats. Surely they were not all delusional, or liars. He trusted Smokefur, and did not believe that she would mislead him.
Suddenly curiosity overwhelmed him and he asked, all at once, excited, "What is it like to walk in StarClan? What is it like to speak with them?" His ears erect and his brown-green eyes bright, his heart pounded. He loved learning, and always sought knowledge. It enthralled him, and intriguing things excited him. The world was a great place, and the mysterious stars, fully fledged above him, were perhaps greater. What wonders they must hold! His heart in his throat, he stared at Smokefur incredulously, inspired by the things that she must know, bewildered by the comprehension of things that she potentially held.
A hunger was within him, a hunger that was stronger, more powerful, and perhaps more painful than the one clawing in his belly. This one began in his heart, growing and filling every bit of him. A hunger that he lived in, thrived in... a hunger to understand... a hunger to know. ... that's why I wrote this song to sing, my beautiful girl. Character; Our dear Nettlefur Word count; 473 Notes; :)
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Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2012 3:29:55 GMT -5
Nettlefur had said a lot before Smokefur had really cooked up a reply, so she planned on covering a whole lot rather quick. “Oh yes they are just cats.†Smokefur said hoping it would calm him down she wasn’t angry or offended at all that he had said it and she was sure starclan wasn’t either. “They are just cats with eyes in more places than we can imagine. They get a much broader scope of all the clans than any one cat living here will ever get. That is why we listen to them, and that is why they know things that we do not even if they are just cats.†She had answered that so she moved onto the question of walking with them, “I don’t believe Im supposed to really detail my experiences but I can tell you that they are just that, cats. They like their respect, and I honestly feel like they prefer humility. They don’t want to be patronized, they were hard working cats in life and they take pride in that fact in death.â€
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