|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 5, 2017 13:41:02 GMT -5
MoThpaW 6 Moons || StoneClan || TomPuddles littered the ground, as plentiful as the rocks beneath Mothpaw's feet. It was wet underpaw, though the breeze was fresh as the light retired to its cradle beneath the quickly dimming horizon. The setting sun turned the cloudless sky crimson and orange, dusting Stoneclan's land in a fiery, evening light. The vast, rocky territory look like a bloody wasteland, ridden with venetian pools and the strengthening shadows of slumped and stooping stones.
This is beautiful. Mothpaw thought to himself, bounding effortlessly from an especially large boulder. The young apprentice was drunk with happiness as he wandered towards the Stone Stream, eager to practice his climbing on one of the only groves of trees Stoneclan had officially claimed. I'll be back before dark. Mothpaw convinced himself, hardly batting an eye as a large hawk flew overhead. So trapped in his own world of thought was the young tom, that now twice on his journey he had unintentionally put himself in harms way. Some may call it recklessness, an easy trait to pin on youth, though those who know Mothpaw well realize it is the lack of one simple, yet crucial trait of a warrior, of a cat: awareness. Almost stepping on a rattlesnake? Almost getting carried away by a hawk?
Fortunately, luck seemed to follow Mothpaw wherever his adventurous paws took him.
A mouse practically tripped the apprentice as he covered ground gracefully between him and the border with Rainclan. There was no hesitation, no doubt, no fear. There was no reason to be negative or reticent in such a peaceful and happy place. Mothpaw felt free and joyous as he raced towards the treeline in the distance, his blue eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkening skies, claws digging into soil as the rocks grew scarce and foliage brushed his underbelly. In one massive, undemanding leap, the apprentice felt his claws sink into the bark of a mature oak, black branches tearing into the sky, as if revealing an empty void beyond the pure light of moon and stars. It was already night, and only the faint, red glow in the west suggested that yesterday had even existed.
Mothpaw launched himself farther up the tree before making an incredible jump to a healthy, neighboring maple. It wasn't long before his desires were muddled yet again, and instead of practice, he found himself in the wiry branches of a dead walnut, gazing at the stars with widened eyes, drinking in every twinkle in the depth of space. I wonder what kind of star I'll be? He questioned himself, tail hanging lazily from the branches. The slight rustling of branches in the tree behind him would have been warning enough for any cat, though Mothpaw continued to stare, trapped in the constellations. Within seconds, he felt a sharp pain in his flanks. He twisted immediately on his back to face his antagonist.
Mothpaw's astonished eyes met twin amber moons, glaring hungrily at him from a round, feathered, ghostly white face.
The tom clawed viciously at the owl, its wings flapping heavily for a silent flier, though the strigiform had caught the young cat unaware enough to have gripped one of its talons tightly around his lower body, yanking him from the branches into open air. Mothpaw let out a terrified yowl, biting and clawing at the bird's leg with all his might, blood welling up on his loins. Within seconds, he was thrust into a dizzying freefall, landing clumsily on his paws, stumbling slightly forward. A shadow passed over top of him as the owl stretched out its claws, swooping down towards the apprentice menacingly. Mothpaw spun in an instant, facing the predator and watching as the huge, silent silhouette towered over him with talons outstretched.
As much as Mothpaw wanted to shrink away and close his eyes, he couldn't help but watch as the shaded shape closed in, the tom's own blue eyes entranced, locked with the titian gaze of his antagonist.
Surely life couldn't be this short? Not all those who wander are lost Made By Fawn @@ ## Notes |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2017 0:31:59 GMT -5
When the hope of morning starts to fade in me,
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me...
Yawning as she padded on along the StoneClan border, Ashflight cast a glance back at the toms that had been assigned to the dusk patrol with her, Russethawk and Bravebird. Their patrol was nearly over, just a small stretch left to check near the little woods. The sun had set some time ago, the border shrouded in darkness, leaving Ashflight's ears pricked and alert for the slightest noises that might give away an enemy lurking in the shadows, her jaws parted slightly to taste the wind for unfamiliar scents.
Her tail flicked behind her as she looked over at Russethawk, “Well, at least we know we won't be on the dawn patrol.” Her whiskers twitched in slight amusement. The dawn patrol was rather notorious for being most warriors' least favorite duty. She didn't mind it personally, she normally woke up rather early anyway, but going on patrol with a bunch of grumpy Clanmates first thing in the morning wasn't exactly the way she wanted to start the day.
Turning her pale green gaze to Bravebird, she was about to suggest that the three of them could perhaps make plans for tomorrow. Russethawk and Bravebird seemed to be incredibly close, and as she herself was growing closer to the red hued tom, she thought it might be a good idea to befriend Bravebird as well. However, a terrified yowl shattered the relative silence, followed by an owl's screech, just as she opened her mouth to speak. In a heartbeat, Ashflight was racing toward the sound, leaping through the Stone Stream, bounding carelessly over the scentline and into enemy territory.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears, nearly drowning out the sounds in her memory of a white kitten screaming in pain and an eagle's triumphant cry as it carried off its prize. Not again. She had only a moment to register the dark wings, outlined in moonlight, so low to the ground, too low, and the tom that was barely more than a kitten frozen in fear. Her lips drawing back in a snarl, Ashflight flung herself at the owl with a screech of her own, claws unsheathed. The impact was enough to send the bird tumbling to the ground with her, rolling in a mass of fur and feathers away from the young tom, and Ashflight felt the sting of talons tear through fur and skin as the owl tried to free itself from her grasp.
She let it go, but she wasn't done. The owl hopped and flapped, trying to regain its flight, but Ashflight darted behind it and leaped again before it could rise more than a foxlength, claws digging into its back and dragging it back to the ground. It screeched in alarm, twisting its head unnaturally to jab at her with its beak, wings flailing, but she met its strike with one of her own, claws raking through feathers and flesh, but loosening her grip. Tearing away from her, the owl backed up, wings flared in attempt to appear more intimidating, head low as its amber eyes bored into her. Ashflight arched her back in return, spitting furiously, “You're not getting away from me you rotting piece of foxdung!”
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight,
I will not be giving in tonight. Fawn Phoenix @jet ... she REALLY doesn't like birds of prey x'D
|
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Jul 7, 2017 8:13:32 GMT -5
 51 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior “Well, at least we know we won't be on the dawn patrol.”
"Good," Russethawk mewed, stifling a yawn just thinking about it. He gave his best friend an affectionate nudge with his shoulder. "Bravebird gets so cranky after a dawn patrol." It was an obvious tease. Russethawk honestly couldn't think of a more pleasant, agreeable cat to go on a morning trek through the woods with - rain or shine.
The companionable atmosphere was shattered with a yowl of terror and the triumphant screech of an owl, boring down on its prey. Ashflight reacted near-instantly, and Russethawk was a few paw-steps behind as she raced across the StoneClan scent line into unknown territory. With a silent, wild look at Bravebird, Russethawk pursued - splashing up water as he gave not the slightest bit of effort towards subtlety.
Great StarClan, that owl is huge! The only thing more impressive than the sheer size of the owl, was the fierocious warrioress flinging herself upon it. Even in the midst of such a high octane moment, Russethawk felt his heart skip a bit, green eyes poised on the sight of Ashflight grappling with the feathered menace as if she had all the powers of LeopardClan on her side.
"Help the StoneClanner!" He mewed to Bravebird, before unsheathing his claws and launching himself into the fray. He had fought alongside Rushwhisker's sister once before - against one of their own. Russethawk barely had time to really think about that battle, but if he had, gratitude would have registered that at least there would be no moral gray areas if they killed their current opponent.
Russethawk had little experience with birds of prey, but that did nothing to quench his enthusiasm to learn. With a wild, taunting laugh, his haunches wriggled, and he made to leap at the owl's back while Ashflight's spat insults distracted it. His claws ripped through what felt like an endless amount of feathers, and surprise flitted across his face as the owl's head swiveled almost completely around, beak open in a fierce cry of rage.
Suddenly aware of getting his eyes pecked out, Russethawk loosened his grip, buffeted with tawny wings for his efforts.
Word Count: 361 Words Tags: @zen Phoenix @jet |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 16:26:24 GMT -5
MoThpaW 6 Moons || StoneClan || TomFor a moment, he thought his luck was to end in ripping flesh, the only thing left of him being spilled blood and torn fur, a burgundy puddle for his clanmates to grieve over. Images of his brothers flashed before his eyes, sadness dripping from their eyes in the form of choking tears. Grief strangled Mothpaw as he saw what he would cause his family to go through, the torment of his death. He started to shake uncontrollably, heart exploding with fear, though his gaze was unbroken: a constant stream of blue that was sure as the moon's pallid light.
His haunches stung. The lynx pointed tom went to rise in his final moments, to fulfill his wish to die on all four paws, only to crumple from his weight in a mound of pale, light fur. Just as talons reached out to scour his tiny form and carry him off into the night, a snarling grey shadow intercepted the bird of prey ferociously, ripping it from its ocean of air and dragging it to earth in a fumble of feathers and fur. Moments later, two more shapes dashed into the clearing, one of them aiding Mothpaw's initial rescuer with vigor. The other...Mothpaw didn't see.
Instead, Mothpaw slumped to the ground, his lust for adventure and intrigue replaced with a sore exhaustion. He was alive, but there was no desire to move, his usual vitality replaced with shock and lethargy. I'm so thirsty. He thought, heart pounding, breaths coming quick and irregular. The light tom attempted to readjust himself, though his flanks stung, a pain much more than he had ever experienced in his young, new life, and his leg felt like it had been pierced with a hundred porcupine quills. Mothpaw let out a piteous moan. He didn't want to look. It scared him to see what hurt so much, though his inherent curiosity prevailed. It always did.
Mothpaw's eyes followed his spine all the way down to his blood coated hind, seeing blood drip down his side in a slow, steady flow. His hind left hurt. Everything looked normal, though Mothpaw felt confidence and life fade out of his heart and mind, leaving him emptily staring at the ground. Mothpaw's jaw dropped, the suddenness of everything stealing his breath. The young tom grew dizzy, burying his face in his paws, trying to ignore the aches. Trying to ignore reality. Mothpaw shuddered, though deep down, he retained a warming relief.
How am I still alive? Not all those who wander are lost Made By Fawn Fawn @zen ## Notes |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 17:00:54 GMT -5
When the hope of morning starts to fade in me,
I don't dare let darkness have its way with me...
Russethawk leaped into the fray as Ashflight's mind raced, determining her next move with only heartbeats to spare. The ruddy tom's entrance gave her a few more moments, though a worry for the tom flashed through her. Birds of prey weren't exactly RainClan's specialty. “The wings! Go for its wings!” She yowled to him. The mountain cats always went for the wings. Cripple the wings and it couldn't escape, it was stuck on the ground at a great disadvantage. And the wings may be capable of striking powerful blows, but they were the least dangerous weapons the bird had, and at the end of the day, were quite fragile if you could get your teeth and claws through the feathers and muscle.
A more logical decision would have been to just let the owl go after getting it away from the little StoneClan tom. The bird was outnumbered and outmatched, it would give up on its prey. If they simply backed off, it would fly away and leave them alone. But Ashflight could not forgive and she could not forget. She would never let another bird attack a cat and let it escape, not if she could help it. While the owl was distracted with Russethawk, she leaped for one of its wings herself, grabbing its wingarm tightly in her jaws, digging her claws into the earth, and yanking as hard as she could.
Russethawk's weight was already unbalancing it, and her yank had the bird falling forward. Ashflight bit harder, feeling bones crunch as the bird's own weight and awkward angle broke its wing. It flailed, screeching, vicious talons reaching and grasping for anything they could rip into. Ashflight let go before the bird shook her senseless with all its flailing and leaped back to avoid its claws. She hissed triumphantly. A bird with a broken wing was as good as dead.
And the hope of morning makes me worth the fight,
I will not be giving in tonight. Fawn @jet
|
|
|
|
Post by Fawn on Aug 1, 2017 9:19:08 GMT -5
51 Moons | RainClan | Tom | Senior Warrior Russethawk was still spitting out feathers while Ashflight was breaking bone. He heard the sharp, volatile crack and the following screech; dazed, the ruddy warrior was prodded into activity by her ferocious hiss. It wasn't directed at him, but it had the same effect on him that it did the bird - they both fluffed up and prepared for the final clash.
They could have let it go, but Russethawk knew better. Even if the owl wasn't dumb enough to go after a Clan cat again, Russethawk wasn't about to let this much food go to waste. What kind of warrior would he be? Determined to redeem himself and his unimpressive efforts so far, Russethawk cut in between Ashflight and the owl.
It can't fly. It's stuck here with us—so we kill it quickly. End a potentially torturous dance between a predator of air and two of land. Russethawk knocked the owl over, using his heavier weight to pin down its uninjured wing; the owl shrieked, and the head swiveled to jab at him - but he was ready for it this time. Scratching at its face, Russethawk turned his head sideways and bit into whatever part of the owl he could reach.
The screech right in his ear made his head ring, and his stomach threaten to switch places with his tongue. Russethawk held on until there was silence - or had he gone deaf? - and when he no longer felt the weight of the owl struggling beneath him. Panting, Russethawk let go of the dead bird of prey, his left ear ringing so horribly, he gave his head a shake as if that might clear it.
A triumphant grin was flashed at Ashflight. "You were incredib—"
"Are you alright?"
Bravebird's mew of concern brought him back to reality. Russethawk's head turned towards his best friend when he realized Bravebird wasn't asking them. The cat they'd rescued looked to be in bad shape; Russethawk could smell blood, and knew it wasn't just his and Ashflight's.
"Can you stand, StoneClanner?" Russethawk mewed, his tone not unkind. "If not, we'll have to bring you to our camp." He didn't glance at Ashflight. He knew she wouldn't like that; another stranger in the Clan. Her paranoia wasn't unfounded, and it had kept her alive for so many moons. However... Sometimes Ashflight's instincts weren't always the best thing to follow.
StarClan knew RainClan could show a little kindness. Even if their only healer was Swanfeather.
Word Count: 409 Words Tags: @jet @zen
|
|
