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Post by Justice on Sept 27, 2016 19:09:53 GMT -5
It pleased him deeply, this task he had been given. This was his first real time out of LightningClan territory, and he hadn't fallen behind or lost their rather...interesting Medicine Cat or his apprentice. This was the most important task he'd ever been given in his entire life, and for once he was brimming with pride. The she-cat he'd been assigned with he didn't even feel the need to be anything other than cordial to, also something that was new. He tried not to let the she-cats get close to him, but he was too happy to push at her and be truly cold. He hummed softly, his deep voice vibrating in his throat. He was just shy of purring, but that he managed to keep to himself. Now, to the prospect at paw. "So, is this the first time you have had the chance to escort?" He wondered if she was young or old, and what colors she wore in her fur. Simple things he'd never know unless he asked. And he wasn't going to. He remembered hearing of Cherrypool from some of the other warriors, but still wasn't really sure about her. He always reserved his opinion of cats until he'd had the chance to deal with them personally, but what he'd heard of her wasn't good. But then, what was the big deal that she looked different? From what he understood, the problem with the she-cat was her looks. Since he couldn't see those looks, she was just another cat for him to deal with at length. His ears flicked back towards the place where they'd parted company with the Medicine Cat and his apprentice, listening for any indication that his assistance was required for a moment before flicking them back to his companion. His gaze, fixed as always, was pointed towards the sky rather than the she-cat next to him. Tag : Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Sept 27, 2016 21:03:10 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. It was like stepping into another cat's pelt, being treated cordially. Cherrypool looked at the blind tom with something like sharpness, her blood red eyes raking over his pelt as though she might find mocking intentions hidden in his fur like fat, menacing ticks. But there was nothing, only his dark stripes and polite question. Cherrypool frowned in contemplation, going back through the memories of her youth to see if she had ever escorted a cat to the Moon Tree before. "Once, as an apprentice." Serpent-tongue had been selected to escort Silentsong and Grizzledclaw, the medicine cats before Rookfrost had taken up the post, and he had gotten permission for her to come along as well.
It had excited her, and it was one of the few things that did. Cherrypool could picture her 6 moon old self, small and white as snow, hurrying in Serpent-tongue's wake while the tom made no efforts to accommodate his stride for her shorter one. She had been dying to ask the StarClan cats a question, yearning to finally have an answer to the one thing she had always wondered in her youth. Why was I born this way? Why did StarClan give me such horrible eyes? When Serpent-tongue had told her ordinary cats were not allowed to share tongues with StarClan, she had been crestfallen, dismayed to know that the answer to her question was probably there but unable to be reached.
It was almost laughable, now. Laughable in a bitter, humorless sort of way. Too much of a freak to be treated with respect, but too ordinary to speak to StarClan. She might as well have been a talking badger.
An alabaster tail twitched irritably, as though to sweep aside those memories like dead leaves. "So much ceremony," Cherrypool snorted derisively, "for a frozen tree stuck underground." She had seen a glimpse of the Moon Tree when she'd been an apprentice, peering anxiously into the hollow as though even a glimpse of StarClan might be the answer to her prayers, but while the tree was impressive, she remembered feeling snubbed by their ancestors. Hurt that they wouldn't even appear in a dream to reassure her that she even belonged in a Clan at all.
She had lost her faith, then. Recovered it slowly over time when Goldenflower had come into her life, but the little tom's death had quickly ripped her begrudging respect for her ancestors right out of her heart like a thorn.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 430 Words Tags: Justice Notes:
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Post by Justice on Sept 27, 2016 21:34:41 GMT -5
"You are lucky, then. This is my first time out of Clan territory." He admitted it slowly, a sigh leaving his frame with the words. Border patrols did not count, and he usually didn't go to the gatherings, for obvious reasons. A blind cat was a target, a notable weakness in a clan that was otherwise strong. He didn't want anyone getting ideas that LightningClan was anything other than the best. Because he believed they were. "The air is crisp tonight." He offered her, tipping his head and his ears towards her. As she mentioned the tree and his attention was fixed. "You've seen it?" His tone held excitement, also a healthy dose of awe. "StarClan moves here, they pad on spirit paws and speak to their chosen. It...leaves me truly at a loss." Because he was less than a whole cat, because he spoke to them so often and only wondered if they heard him. He believed they always watched, always listened, but to really know it was true...well he never would. It didn't shake his belief, however. "Tell me what you saw." A pause, his voice dropping a little as if he would offend her with himself and his request. "Please." She was whole, this she-cat next to him. No matter her coloration, no matter how she looked, she could do something he no longer could. This, in a way, made her perfect in his eyes. What else mattered, other than a hearty body and functioning senses? What had she seen, in her first time to this place? Was it a large tree? And ceremony? He knew all about the ceremony of things, but he'd never seen it. He could listen, and often he did, but he'd never seen. Wildstripe shifted, his large frame seemingly at ease although he was on guard as any proper escort should be. Tag : Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Sept 28, 2016 20:17:48 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. Wildstripe's impassioned plea made the fur along her spine raised, unused to such an earnest request. "You want me to describe it?" Cherrypool repeated flatly, ears pinning to her skull; with a wary glance at the other cats that had arrived with their healers, Cherrypool approached the hollow where the others had disappeared through. The temperature was much cooler, noticeably so. "Come here, Wildstripe," Cherrypool mewed, voice low, tone non-negotiable. "You should feel this. The Moon Tree is covered in ice, I only caught a glimpse of it, but the bark looks white, as if it's made of snow. It glows in the moonlight." Would those words mean anything to him?
Describing something as 'glowing' was useless to a blind tom. Cherrypool, with her unique relationship with light, was a little more apt to describe the Moon Tree's effects than the average warrior. With a guiding touch of her tail to Wildstripe's shoulder, she stopped him from getting any closer than was wise. "You can feel the moonlight on your fur, right? Shadows are cooler... You can always tell when you've stepped into the shade. The Moon Tree seems like that. Colder than anything you can imagine, but it feels like sunlight on your fur." That was a terrible explanation and she knew it, but Cherrypool could do nothing about that.
Wildstripe was limited, and therefore her explanation was limited as well. StarClan could just as easily grant the tom what he wanted—a glimpse of the Moon Tree—in his dreams, but their ancestors were as cold as their tree. They could look and marvel all they wanted to, but unless they went looking for StarClan, StarClan could not deign themselves to visit the dreams of ordinary cats.
Snorting, Cherrypool cleared her throat, signaling she was done with her explanation. "I hope that suffices." The albino warrioress muttered.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 300 Words Tags: Justice Notes:
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Post by Justice on Sept 28, 2016 20:42:02 GMT -5
"Please." He gave her a sort of lopsided smile when she asked him if he wished her to describe it to him, feeling a little awkward despite everything. He was too old to be getting embarrassed due to talking with a she-cat. He followed her when she bade him, glad he had taken the time on the way here to be familiar enough with her scent to follow her without being able to see her. And he didn't even run into her where she'd stopped. Always a plus. As she started speaking his head canted, setting his blank gaze forward where he felt the push of cold against his nose and fur. "Glows in the moonlight. As the moon on water, I'd assume?" With a ripple of cold light. He wondered if this light, as the light of the moon, was cold in nature. And if so, did that mean that StarClan, who presumably caused the glow with their presence, were cold towards the cats that continued to walk the physical world? Wildstripe shook himself from his thoughts when her tail touched his shoulder, a little confused until he realized she was guiding him in some fashion. How kind of her. "I can. Daylight has a different feel than moonlight, and shade in day different than shade at night. So I do understand what you mean." And feels like sunlight? So it was warm? He had hoped so, StarClan was supposed to be this benevolent force, and they being cold and indifferent didn't sit well with the blind tom. His ears flicked and he shifted a paw out until it collided with where hers were planted, a small gesture of appreciation. He rarely touched she-cats, didn't want to give them the wrong impression or face their scorn, but she had been kind to him and that deserved something from him. A chance to be severely scorned from her company aside, he appreciated that she'd taken the time to explain what she saw in a way he could understand. "Thank you Cherrypool." She couldn't know what it meant to him, to be able to picture the Moon Tree in his mind's eye, to be able to 'see' it, if only in his imagination. And if the colors were wrong he'd never know. The other escorts were of little consequence, other than knowing where they were and what they were doing in case something were to go wrong. Tonight, their focus was on their Medicine Cats and their safety. An idle conversation was fine, but he was wary of going over to interact with the other Clan cats. tag : Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Sept 29, 2016 15:03:37 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. The touch was likely a mistake, and Cherrypool withdrew her paws, giving him more room. It had been a subtle, almost thoughtful gesture--but so rare was it for the albino warrioress that she had been unable to recognize it for what it was. "You're welcome," it was another murmur, her voice quiet and unfriendly, but not laced with poison like it usually was whenever cats attempted to hold some kind of mocking or fearful conversation with her.
Wildstripe was different, and Cherrypool felt briefly out of her depth. More than that, she felt bitterness creeping up on her like early frost. If you had your sight, would we even be having this conversation? He would know what she looked like, and he would shy away or withdraw like all the others. Friendship was hard to come by at her age, so she didn't reach for it, and she shied away herself whenever a cat just so happened to be cordial with her.
It was not a gift, not in Cherrypool's opinion, but a trap. That Wildstripe shared the same prefix as Wildclaw had not gone unnoticed; the last tom she had trusted with a name like that, she'd killed him for using her to gather information about her Clan. For lying. For misleading her, weaving an illusion she had so desperately believed to be the truth. Deciding to claw her way out of the depressing, dark pit of her own murder-filled thoughts, Cherrypool addressed Wildstripe again. Whether he was friend or enemy, or simply another victim of the cruel words of their Clanmates such as herself, talking to him would not hurt.
"Why is it so important to you? That you know what the Moon Tree looks like?" Without fear of Wildstripe flinching away, Cherrypool eyed him, gazing unapologetically into the dull gray pools of the senior warrior's eyes. Don't tell me he's another starry-eyed believer... She'd been one once; Cherrypool had also learned at a young age that StarClan wasn't interested in cats like them.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 341 Words Tags: Justice Notes:
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Post by Justice on Sept 29, 2016 19:08:05 GMT -5
Ah, rebuffed. He'd been expecting it, but still it hurt. Why was his lack of sight so appalling to the she-cats? Well, at least he hadn't been all that invested in her acceptance of his touch. It was simply a good conversation, for once he wasn't being ignored. It made him happy, pure and simple. Why was it important? Did she really not understand? He couldn't blame her, now that he thought about it. "It matters to me what anything looks like, Cherrypool. The last sight I had before darkness was of my mother standing over me in a panic as she called for the medicine cat. Then nothing, for a very long time. Having any new image, and someone just willing to tell me what they see, to describe it for me, it means..." He felt his frame vibrate, realizing his tone had gotten steadily more intense and taking a deep breath to settle himself before he made a fool out of himself. Again. "Forgive me." He tipped his head downwards, holding his warrior posture but visibly deflated. "I just wanted something to imagine rather than the darkness of my world. I may not remember what something looked like, or the color it should be, but I can imagine it if someone were to tell me what it looks like." He wanted so little for himself, and devoted so much of himself to the Clan and its survival. Why was it asking so much of others to simply talk to him? To tell him, just once in awhile, in detail, how something looked? It seemed, at least in this Clan, that answer was yes. Wildstripe curled his tail around his paws as he sat down, putting his back to the tree and his attention back on his surroundings. His ears were still canted towards his fellow escort, showing he wanted to carry on this conversation if she was still willing. Tag : Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Sept 29, 2016 22:15:56 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. There was a moment of silence, as clouds passed over the moon, and Cherrypool considered Wildstripe's thoughts. She had not expected him to be so honest with her; this was an entirely new experience, being trusted with information like this. He apologized then, and Cherrypool glanced at him. "Don't ask for forgiveness," the albino feline spoke quietly. "You asked for reasonable things." With a small inhale, the breath held in her breast, the she-cat cast her sights over the mountainside, aware that this view down into the valley was not one Wildstripe would ever see.
Perhaps there were ways even she was considered lucky. She could have been born blind, and what a torturous world that would be; to hear the insults and the whisperings of her Clanmates, but never fully understand why.
Rather than dwell on such self-centered negativity, Cherrypool's tail-tip twitched, and she began to speak again, describing carefully what she saw. "The valley looks dark, like shadows on water. You can see far, even with only a half-moon for light. StoneClan is right beneath us. Rocky. It looks barren, too many empty spaces and sparse vegetation. Our territory is visible from here; the moors look almost silver."
Again, she stole a glance at the striped warrior. This was not how she usually spent her evenings; for once, the concerns and opinions of the other cats present mattered little. Cherrypool did not consider herself a very compassionate cat; not only because compassion was a foreign concept to a she-cat with such a rough upbringing, but because she had few chances to try it out for herself.
This was an unexpected chance, and with little opportunity to backfire upon her (as far as she could see), Cherrypool attempted to water what could've been sprouting into a begrudging friendship. Perhaps. She would never get her hopes up, not again, but Cherrypool was not so cynical to think that she would be... alone forever. Sometimes there were cats like her, who did not fit in with the rest of the Clan; if she became an outcast among outcasts, then what would she possibly have left?
Just Whiteshade. Always Whiteshade. Cherrypool shivered, picturing her brother's 'oh so charming' smile, and the raw, red glint of his eyes in the dark as he stalked his next victim.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 394 Words Tags: Justice Notes: Friendship? *GASP* Friendship!
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Post by Justice on Sept 30, 2016 23:31:05 GMT -5
His head canted, ears swiveling all the way to show he had turned his entire attention towards her. It was also a show of trust. They were clanmates, they should be able to trust each other, especially while assigned together on this mission. Such as it was, escorting their medicine cat and his apprentice. So he trusted that she wouldn't allow for anything or anyone to catch him unaware, that it was safe to focus on her. He could still hear the world around him, of course, but he wasn't focusing on the world, he was focusing on the she-cat. "I am always apologizing." He sighed then offered another lop-sided smile. She was being kind to him, it was a novel experience. Not since Whitesparrow had released him from his apprenticeship had he experienced someone willing to show him kindness. But then she spoke. The words were not for what they were doing or to tell him to leave her alone. No, she told him what she saw, a gift that he had never been given, never been lucky enough to be granted. A low sound escaped the large tom and he took a step until he could stand right next to her again, listening to her words and absorbing the priceless gift she was giving him. His sightless eyes closed and he let his imagination have its way with what she told him, what she'd given him. When she stopped speaking he actually gave a sort of back and forth shake of his head, trying to get his senses back on track. But he was overwhelmed, absolutely lacking in the knowledge of what to do with a she-cat that was generous to him. "Thank you." The words came out choked and he had to clear his throat several times before he could speak clearly through the powerful emotion that had him. "I know what the others say, but I have always and will always judge other cats by their actions not what I hear of them. You, Cherrypool, are better than many a cat I know. For simple kindness to someone who lacks something most take for granted. Thank you, truly." He took a chance and butted his head against her shoulder, affection and appreciation all in one. He backed up right after and carefully tracked his own pawprints right back to the edge of the place they were stationed, awaiting their medicine cats. "Would you like to know what how I see you?" He couldn't see, but he could imagine. He'd told her that. Would she want to know? Tag : Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Oct 2, 2016 19:02:33 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. "You, Cherrypool, are better than many a cat I know."
You don't know me at all. You don't know what I've done, or what I could do. Cherrypool's tail lashed across the cool, rough mountain stones, but she said nothing, accepting his gratitude for what it was and trying not to let her own horrors taint it.
"Would you like to know what how I see you?"
"Yes," Cherrypool murmured, the answer more of a whisper than a full-blown reply, but it had been spoken nevertheless. How did he see her? There was little chance it could be a positive assessment; he didn't need to remember what she looked like when they were kits to know she was... unsettling. The albino warrior's gaze narrowed, the red glint of her eyes brightened by the moonlight. Maybe he saw her as something else? Maybe he had his own vision of what she looked like?
There was a kind of cold humor over knowing he could never find out the truth. If he wanted to picture her as a tabby with green eyes, he could; if he thought she was a ginger cat full of scars, fine. Wildstripe would never know how badly she'd wished she was; the white fur was manageable. The white fur would've been beautiful, had she been born with eyes any other color but red.
I could've been... pretty.
Instead, oh instead, she was... this.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 240 Words Tags: Justice Notes: ;-; short, sorry!
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Post by Justice on Oct 2, 2016 20:03:00 GMT -5
She was still listening. She wanted to know how he saw her, and that pleased him very much. Sightless eyes closed and he let off a soft sigh before answering her. “I see a she-cat, pale as the moon, with the sun blazing in her eyes.” He remembered her from when they were kits, remembered the pale fur and vibrant red eyes of she and her brother. It was vague, but he remembered because she'd been so mistreated by the others, and soon those were the same ones that mistreated him. “She's been through more than any cat should have to, and she's still standing. She's become a warrior, a huntress, and more she has retained the ability to be kind to others that many consider below notice.”
Wildstripe took a breath and opened his eyes, a thoughtful expression on his features. “You are moonlight touched. I bet your pelt shines in the moonlight, shimmers silver even.” Ah, he was also being a bit poetic, which was unbecoming of a senior warrior. “But I'm rambling.” He shuffled his paws on the ground in front of him, a little embarrassed.
there's always a new challenge to keep you motivated background image | sean connery | Fawn | table by phoenix[Sorry for the shortness, I have a headache.]
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Post by Fawn on Oct 2, 2016 20:18:28 GMT -5
74 Moons. LightningClan. Senior Warrior. Cherrypool couldn't have been more shocked than if a star had fallen down between them and exploded. Gaping at Wildstripe, no words immediately sprang to mind—at least, not anything she could say to him. Instead, the way he'd described her was echoing in her thoughts like a stone dropped down a dark crevice, and she shivered, both self-conscious and abashed in one go.
With the sun blazing in her eyes...
With the immense urge to become a mole and burrow deep under the earth where nothing would ever find her and the embarrassing weight of Wildstripe's words could not crush her, Cherrypool cleared her throat once. And then twice. "That was... You're... sweet." She cringed. "You're the only cat that sees me this way. So..." There was a 'thank you' in there somewhere, even if she did not put it to words, and she lacked his gift for eloquence.
Cherrypool had a lot of secrets. Bloody secrets. Perhaps this moment would be one more? A more benevolent secret than any others, surely, but one she would admit to no one nevertheless. Wildstripe, though he carried a similar name to the first tom she had ever loved (and he too had been silvertongued), he knew the harshness of their Clanmates. The whispers. The scorn. Dislike did not have to be seen to be noticed.
His words had value, because of this. And perhaps she would think of them, the next time her cynical nature reared it's ugly, red-eyed head.
MY FRIENDS DON'T WALK, THEY RUN I'M PEELING THE SKIN OFF MY FACE 'CUZ I REALLY HATE BEING SAFE Word Count: 257 Words Tags: Justice Notes:
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Post by Justice on Oct 2, 2016 21:13:03 GMT -5
“Yes well um...” He ducked his head, ears laying flat for a second before flicking out again. Couldn't leave himself totally vulnerable. He trusted her, but he was embarrassed and wanted to keep on guard before making an even bigger fool of himself. The tom drew himself up straight, presenting himself the best he could. He wasn't flirting with her, at least he didn't think he was. She was a sweet she-cat, she deserved better than he could offer her. For certain. But, for the first time since his apprenticeship ended, he didn't want to send her away. He didn't want to be cold, to be cruel just to save himself. A friend, maybe? Someone to talk to that wouldn't go behind him after and say terrible things just because he was different.
“Everyone deserves to know that someone, even just one cat out in this world of ours, sees them as something worth while. And you are, and I do.” He angled his head just slightly, ears swiveling back towards the she-cat. “I don't have to have my sight, to see you Cherrypool. Perhaps it is because I lack the ability to see you that I can truly see you. If that makes any sense at all. You and I, we're kindred spirits. We are different from the norm, in different ways.”
He stopped there, absently lifting a paw to smooth out a patch of his fur he wasn't sure was out of line but gave him something to do. He was eloquent in his speech, but he'd never spoken with anything other than honesty. He didn't believe in beating around the bushes, such as it was. Speak your mind, or don't speak at all.
there's always a new challenge to keep you motivated background image | sean connery | Fawn | table by phoenix
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