Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2018 4:36:39 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS
The sun was setting. Pine canopies blocked out most of the light already, and Rookshade blended incredibly well with the shadows of Nightclan territory, his ginger fur giving him shape in the deepening darkness. There was a crisp, clean breeze, though it was weakened by the forest. It smelled like snow outside of camp, but the clouds yielded no precipitation and Rookshade truly didn't mind. The tortoiseshell tom sat outside of camp, grooming his pelt for the night. He liked feeling clean and prepared for the day, and each stroke of his tongue licked away any lingering tiredness and stress from before. Tonight is a new night! He thought brightly, pulling himself to his paws and stretching.
He wasn't sure when the night would bring, though he figured the border between Nightclan and the unexplored territories beyond would be a good place to assess. With the tensions between Treeclan, Rookshade was sure that side of the territory was being overlooked. Foxstar hadn't been the sharpest lately either, and Rookshade found himself admiring Briarthroat's hold on leadership in Nightclan. He seems like a level-headed leader, though all the leaderships since Dimstar had been either short-lived or passive. It had been forecasted by Blackwolf and his party of followers that Foxstar would not bother with territory advancements, so they took charge and attacked without permission, though without direct defiance of Foxstar herself. Rookshade had constantly asked himself if he would have done the same, and every time he feels a lust for revenge burning relentlessly in his chest. He never could forgive what Lionstar did to Pinestar, or any one of his clanmates in that battle. He could never forgive it, and he almost justified Blackwolf's transgressive victory as capturing an opportunity.
Technically, they didn't go against Foxstar's orders because there were no direct orders given. Besides, Rookshade hated Treeclan. Treeclanners were such snobs sticking their noses into everyone's business and always claiming to know what was best for everyone. Not to mention a disgrace to cats everywhere. Who maims a clan's leader the way he destroyed Pinestar? Disgusting. Rookshade thought, sinking his claws into the soil. He felt his fur fluff up lividly, though quickly regained his composure.
He never did have a good handle on vengeance.
It was unfortunate how short Pinestar's reign had been, though she still seemed quite respected in the clan with her old title, Pinewhisker. I respect her, though despite her aspirations, her leadership was unfortunately short-lived. The entire clan had been quite disappointed with the 'stars recently, and even Dimstar had upset much of the clan with his breeding regulations. Perhaps that may have been the greatest benefit of Pinestar: she did abolish that ridiculous law. It was rumored that she was intent on taking the Wooded Marsh from Rainclan at one point, though the battle party went unannounced. I wonder why we didn't go for it? Rookshade thought uncomfortably. Perhaps she noticed tensions with Treeclan and chose to focus her front on the more threatening clan than starting a battle with one remaining a relatively amiable neighbor. I guess. Rookshade pondered.
No one could have predicted what happened to Pinestar, and after much work from the Nightclan medicine cats, she finally gets around relatively easily, though it was obvious to the clan her injury had taken its toll. Her muzzle is greyed from stress and growing age, and her old injuries still bother her. This leaf-bare, Rookshade noticed her taking her time more often, limp much worse in the cold, and likely aching from a full life. Not many cats alive today can say they were once leader of a clan, though every time he talked to the she-cat, she seemed more ashamed and angry with a mindset that she had failed.
Rookshade comforted her at the time, and perhaps it was unfair to think so harshly, though the tortoiseshell tom agreed with her. Foxstar was a good deputy, though Nightclan leadership was not her forte. Maybe it was dumb luck that Lionstar broke Pinestar, but whatever the reason, her resignation was irritating to Rookshade. He was glad that Pinewhisker was still with them today, but there was a widespread disappointment among his clanmates and himself particularly. Nightclan, because of the events leading up to the present, was like a twittering bird singing the same tune, song after song.
It wasn't fair to just blame Foxstar, Pinestar, or Dimstar. I guess every leader has their faults. Rookshade thought, mulling around the ambush pond for a drink before his journey. After the fox attacks, he wasn't super thrilled to go out alone, though he didn't particularly want to be around a lot of cats at the moment, and if he went in and proposed a patrol, he'd be leading, or stuck following, several of his clanmates. Er, no thank you. He mused, a faint smile creasing his maw, and exuberance lighting up his yellow-green eyes. It was already dark and there was very little trace of light beneath the needle-laden branches. Aside from the winds whispering between the evergreens, it was a silent night, and Rookshade found himself rather energized.
Time to head out. He told himself, starting to walk around the back of the camp towards uncharted land.
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED
Rookshade
