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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2018 1:03:34 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS The day had ultimately been unimpressive. Dismal clouds had muted out the sun, and a steady, cold wind swept through Nightclan with no intent of letting up. Everything looked sharper, more lucid in the dim light. The scorched trees around him looked ominous, though at least the perpetual humming of wind offered some substance to the scenery. Most of the herbs that normally clustered around the sparse shrubbery had long since turned brown and brittle, and the tortoiseshell tom just hoped the medicine cats had enough herbs to keep the clan healthy all winter.
Rookshade had helped pick herbs with the medicine cats before, though he had long since lost track of what was what. He never really knew any herbs in the first place. The black and ginger spotted warrior glanced down at his paws, noticing a patch of yellow flowers. Tansy! Or, maybe yarrow? Bite my tail, I don't bloody know. He flicked the flowers, irritated. He hated the unknown, more than Stoatclaw and Pipitwing at least.
A cough rattled out of Rookshade. His throat felt dry and his nose dribbled ever so slightly in the chill. I might need to get some water soon.
Rookshade had lead the dreaded sunhigh patrol, though he had no intention of falling back to sleep. He was already awake and wanted to take advantage of the daylight. He hadn't visited the Black Forest for some time, seeing how there was no real benefit of the stretch of territory other then its medicinal benefits, though he thought it was still worth a visit. I'm not a medicine cat, but I still need to check up on things here. He told himself, the moist, ashen soil of the charred forest damp and chilly on his paws.
The Black Forest hadn't changed from when he was an apprentice. The same ebony, jagged branches reached for sunlight with no hint of growth: there was nothing but blackened decay in leaf-bare. It was funny how a daily luxury Rookshade always took for granted was one that the seared branches couldn't ever see or feel again.
This was the one time in several moons that Rookshade could actually calm down and be alone, be appreciative of himself and his accomplishments. Since his 18th moon, he had spent every waking moment hunting, fighting, patrolling, training apprentices, and contributing to the clan in other ways as well: even tending to the elders and queens. Rookshade's second apprentice, Hickoryfur, was the most stressed the warrior had ever been in his life, though the cat had finally received his warrior name not long back.
Rookshade sighed. That felt good, getting him back on his paws. The warrior noted, satisfied. It was hard to train the brown and white tom. Him and Hickoryfur were about as opposite as any cat could be, both physically and mentally, though it seemed to work out with much effort from Rookshade. More effort than anything he had ever done before for sure.
Well, glad that's over with. Rookshade thought. The last thing he wanted was another apprentice anytime soon. He wanted to focus on himself. He needed a real opponent, not some lanky, half-witted kit. Rookshade felt protective over the new warrior, though he thought the tom was too sensitive and unmotivated. It got on the tortoiseshell tom's nerves a lot of the times.
Rookshade shook the lingering stress from his pelt. He was finally free.
It was good to distance himself from the clan every now and then. He cared strongly for his clanmates, even those he didn't quite get along with, even Stoatclaw and Pipitwing. Though despite his tendency to immerse himself in Nightclan life, he found most of his comfort in solitude. He couldn't constantly compare himself to his clanmates if they were nowhere around, and vice versa. Rookshade turned around and padded to the Pineneedle Clearing. Enough of standing around. Perhaps there were some warriors eager to test their skills and resolve against his?
Prepare to be defeated. Rookshade smirked to himself, picking up his speed to a paced run. He felt his muscles crackle with energy and his heart drag him forward through the forest in excitement.
After moons of relentless stress from excessive warrior duties, Rookshade finally felt like himself.
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Dec 2, 2018 9:10:37 GMT -5
The wind hissed quite violently through the Pineneedle clearing, buffeting the reddish-brown form within its centre. However, the sharp-eyed she-cat barely seemed to notice as she darted forward and rapidly twisted her lithe, yet powerful frame in an intricate dance. Her paws moved with a surety born only of repetition and self-confidence, weaving over one another as she wheeled about. Ducking her head to avoid a blow from her invisible opponent, she adjusted her hind-quarters and her shoulders to enable her to fire a sturdy blow of retaliation. Claws sung through the air as she lashed out with remarkable speed, haunches bunching before she bounded backwards and clear of her imaginary opponent once more.
Her breath escaped her in rapid pants as she stared at the same spot before her for several moments. Her head was lowered, shoulder blades peeking out even through her thicker Leafbare coat. Slowly collecting herself, her brilliant yellow eyes narrowed as somewhat darker thoughts trickled through her mind. Being here alone, in a place so often visited by warriors and their eager apprentices, conjured a voice within her of which she was rather unaccustomed to hearing. It dripped with doubt, her mind calling forth images of Thornscar and Darkstorm with their apprentices.
What do they have that I don't?
For a moment, her tense frame shivered. And then her eyes snapped wide open, pupils contracting as she struck out defiantly. Claws dragged through the chilled dirt, gouging clear lines in the surface as her maw twisted into a vicious snarl. No. She hissed, tail lashing behind her. I am every bit their equal. I am better. I clawed my way here despite Nightpetal's failure as my mentor. It's her. Foxstar. The conceited voice growled. This is her fault, not mine. She is trying to holding me back.
Another lash of her tail, another set of lines scoured into the innocent ground at her paws. She's the one who mentored me after that useless Nightpetal. And now she's betrayed me. Keeping me from being NightClan's best. But it won't work. Who needs an apprentice. Waste of time, that's what they are. A sneer curled her jaws, fangs flashing in the overcast light as her muscles rippled beneath her coat. Having sunk into a battle ready stance throughout her private tantrum, Cobrastrike wheeled around with her trademark speed, her right paw soaring through the air to slam down unforgivingly upon the ground.
As she stared down at the imaginary head of her opponent, trapped beneath her claws embedded in the ground, her already shrunken pupils contracted further. No one can compare to me. No one can hold me back. I'll have it all. Reverence. Admiration. All of NightClan will see my strength. And screw StarClan's damned rules and traditions. Apprentice or no apprentice, I will be the greatest leader any of the Clans have ever seen. NightClan will be mine. I'll show them. All of them. And I'll shred anyone who gets in my way.
A rustling sound briefly interrupted her inner tirade, pulling her ears in the direction of the sound. Sharp yellow eyes pinpointed the cause of it, and Cobrastrike deliberately straightened out of her battle stance. Starting with him. The tortoiseshell tom entering the Pineneedle Clearing, Rookshade or something of that nature, seemed to be in search of something. A flash of annoyance danced through her deadly stare, the young warrioress collecting herself into a sit. Her tail tip twitched against her folded haunches, and she deliberately left her claws unsheathed. "If you're looking for someone, I'm the only one here." She called out flatly, rather impatiently waiting for this bothersome tom to move along and leave her in peace once more. @jet
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2018 10:37:50 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS Rookshade watched the she-cat carefully, making sure he was lingering downwind. She is very fast and powerful to strike, like a cobra. Rookshade noted, eyes soaking in her every move. But she warns like one too. He noticed just ever so slightly how she braced for her attacks, that almost unnoticeable pause before her accurate and swift onslaughts. Perhaps he was cheating, spying on the warrior before an inevitable test of perseverance and skill. Rookshade noticed a look in the she-cat's eyes that made him inhale sharply, excitedly. Those were the eyes of a real fighter. His heart skipped a beat, and his muscles tensed with anticipation.
He remembered the crimson brown warrior vaguely from his apprentice days, though none of the other apprentices really stood out to him. He never felt welcomed near his peers, and didn't feel like putting in the effort to get to know someone who didn't care to get to know him. Why bother making acquaintances when I can improve myself in more effective ways? Rookshade mused, looking around to make sure no one else was in the area. Not that they were going to hurt each other intentionally, but this was going to be a fight to remember. It had been a while since he had a real fight with a fellow warrior. He was a bit out of shape, having to dumb down training for Hickoryfur, though what he lacked in preparation he could make up in resolve.
Intrigue was alight in his gaze, of which was a sharp yellow. There was no green in his eyes today, no calm and contemplative Rookshade today: in his eyes reflected the same intense energy and intent that Cobrastrike's did.
This will be fun. Rookshade smirked, claws digging into the earth eagerly.
The tortoiseshell tom stepped into the clearing, making it a point to rustle the undergrowth to make his appearance obviously known. Her demeanor changed. She seemed more approachable actually, though her eyes were still cold and unwelcoming. The reddish brown she-cat spoke flatly, and Rookshade let loose a faint smile.
"That'll do." He murmured, fully stepping into the clearing.
Rookshade could tell she wanted to fight a worthy opponent, just as he did, though he was worried she had already underestimated him. I guess we'll see, eh? Rookshade started to circle Cobrastrike, sharp yellow eyes drinking in her every move like a drought-ridden plant soaking up precious water.
"Ready?" He questioned, his body supple and relaxed. There was no need to expend any unnecessary energy: not yet.
Not until the perfect moment.
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade Word Count: 439 Tags: BlooRey DVD Notes: Rook is a bit out of practice. I see him being more unpredictable and nimble, wearing down his enemy's endurance with evasion and bursts of quick power attacks, as much power as he can pull together anyways. Although he is stronger than he seems, I think Cobra is probably more physically strong and perhaps a good bit quicker to strike? He's pretty slippery for a NC cat, but like with a lot of smaller, weaker opponents, if she can pin him for sure and not let him get out of grip, she can rip him to pieces and its just his willpower from there lol. His greatest skills in battle are his agility and resolve. Everything else is rather average, perhaps just a bit intensified because of his steadfast spirit, though I think that's the same with Cobra!
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Dec 26, 2018 19:51:04 GMT -5
One reddish-brown ear twitched at his initial words, yellow eyes narrowing a touch as she watched him. Her gaze never fell away from his frame, the ruddy warrioress evaluating him to determine just what it was he wanted from her. He's mocking you! A vengeful voice within her mind hissed with the ferocity of her namesake, and she couldn't help but press her claws deeper into the ground beneath. Anger rippled through her veins, bringing forth an unmistakable desire to rip this tom apart if only to expend the fury burning in her blood and silence the sneering voice in her head.
Yellow eyes followed his trajectory, replaced with a pivoting ear as he moved out of her line of sight. The tom's slow circling brought the predator from moments ago back to the surface, and Cobrastrike rose from her seated position to meet his challenge. With her tail arced above her back and the fur along her spine at attention, the NightClan warrioress was the depiction of hostility. Yet still, she watched him circle, a predator in his own right. Was he truly asking what she thought he was asking? The energy in his gaze said yes, and yet... Could she reveal herself to a Clanmate she knew only in passing?
His next word was all she needed to push her over than edge.
For a split second, her body tensed, every muscle from nose to tail tip alive with energy. In her mind's eye flashed images of the battle to come, culminating in the victory she deserved. She would show him. She would end him. No one would take this from her, certainly not a tom who thought himself better than her. Oh how she longed to feel him beg beneath her claws.
A flurry of movement provided his next warning of her impending strike. Half her body bounced up fractionally, allowing her to whirl about on her back legs. The muscles in her hind legs bunched and braced, and before her forepaws could reconnect with the ground, she sprung forward with her right forepaw swinging in preparation for a heavy blow. Since this had been nothing more than an opportunity for her to test his reflexes, she felt no disappointment when her claws sailed through the air only to thud against the ground. Her chest expanded as she inhaled excitedly, her pupils shrinking with the thrill of the impending hunt.
When she tilted her head slightly to peer up at the tom with mostly-yellow eyes, the crimson-brown she-cat bore a striking resemblance to her namesake. Lips peeled back in a snarling grin as a dangerous light glinted behind her gaze. Burying her claws further into the earth as if drawing strength from the soil itself, Cobrastrike's previously emotionless voice dripped with something wild, unhinged. "In war, there is no ready. You do not ask worthy and true opponents whether they are ready or not. Do not disrespect me by offering me such idiotic 'courtesy'. For I am worthy."
Dropping into a crouch, Cobrastrike shifted her weight back in preparation for another leap. Every fold in her body told the story of a great bound, one to take her face to face with the tom once more. Yet, when she realized the leap, she cut the exploding power significantly. Though she sent a spray of pine needles soaring through the air, her forepaws connected with the earth several tail-lengths short and to the right of the tortoiseshell tom. Before her hind paws touched the ground, her body was already recalculating, selecting its new and originally intended trajectory.
In a flash of reddish fur, the NightClan warrioress sprung again. Feigning another of her powerful, right-pawed strikes, she corrected at the last moment to duck her head and shoulder his flank aggressively before leaping clear. Pivoting to face him once more, she pushed up on her hindlegs enough to tower threateningly, yet not enough to give him access to the soft fur and skin of her belly. "I hope you understand what you've waltzed into." She sneered, pulling her right forepaw back to initiate another infamous blow. @jet
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