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Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2019 11:49:40 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang How dissatisfying. Pumafang thought, plodding beside Timberfrost. It was before dawn, darkness keeping the snow underpaw icy and sharp. The chocolate black tom wanted to make it back before the gathering, hoping that Lionstar had intended to invite him. He always thought they were interesting occurrences, and Pumafang was intrigued to find out whether or not Lionstar would mention Magpiewing's exile.
They had abandoned Magpiewing in the mountains and were on their way back to TreeClan, the early morning air making the warrior's lungs ache. Lionstar hadn't skimped on brawn and strength in the small patrol responsible for taking Magpiewing to the mountains, though Pumafang couldn't help but wonder why they didn't just chase him off instead. If Magpiewing wanted to torment the clans, walking him to the mountains like a puppy on a leash wasn't going to keep him out of their fur.
Better yet, why didn't he just tell the chocolate black tom to kill him outside of clan territory? That would be a surefire way to make sure he didn't come back and cause trouble.
Pumafang traversed the rocky, steep terrain without hesitation, the snow proving to be quite cumbersome as the large tom's paws busted through a thick layer of ice step after step due to his mass. He had left the clan behind with a strong, brown tabby she-cat and the interesting renegade in their center, to return with one less member than they had started. It had felt odd abandoning the black tuxedo tom outside of clan territory in the mountains, someone who had been an established warrior since far before Pumafang was even kitted.
To say he admired Magpiewing would be false, though the tom had a crypticism to him that slightly intrigued the massive, chocolate black warrior. How fatuous though. He thought emptily, pondering the better ways to exterminate an enemy. Pumafang couldn't even imagine urging someone else do his dirty work: the thought of letting another exercise on his behalf was foolish in the tom's mind. What was the fun in it anyway, making a kill without being the one to do it?
Perhaps he thrived more on manipulation than Pumafang did, finding joy in tactics of persuasion and shrewdness.
Pumafang glanced at the white crusted ground beneath his paws, his amber eyes absent and detached. He would never in his right mind let someone else do something for him that stemmed from his own selfish desires, or someone else's for that matter. He pulled his gaze from the frozen earth to the icy gaze of the brown tabby she-cat beside him. Timberfrost. The name flashed behind his eyes as he watched her muscles ripple beneath her brown pelt. He couldn't help but admiring her form, drawn to her power just as her father had been, though in quite a different way.
He was mad. Pumafang let the thought's face surface before shoving it back in the deep and mysterious pools of his mind, drowning it with the countless other unvocalized insults he had cultivated over his life. Pumafang was pulled to Timberfrost by some force, her presence making his body ache with yearning. If he could continue his bloodline with any she-cat of his choosing, there would be no second-guess, no doubt in his mind. He did good stomaching his desires though, looking as impassive as ever as he lumbered through the forest.
The two cats continued down the mountainside, Pumafang watching his step carefully. One fall could be the death of even him. It would still be all day traveling, though there were worse cats to be stuck on patrol with than an attractively strong she-cat. Elmstrike. Elmstrike would be worse. The brown tom's name came to mind, though just the thought of him kindled a small spark of annoyance. The fluffy brown tom doted over Pumafang, as if he was clan leader already. Perhaps he was minimally amused by his fan's intense support, though there was no question that his company was far from desirable: far from compatible.
Though Elmstrike found a way. He always found a way.
Pumafang worked his way across the rocky, sparsely vegetated cliffs. He was thinking to himself how mildly appreciative he was to be chosen for such a mission, though the colossal, chocolate black tom knew why. By the look of him and Timberfrost, the righteous tom likely wanted to send Magpiewing a strong message: the two warriors were probably the most unwelcoming, intimidating pair in all of TreeClan. Good thing too. Pumafang thought blandly.
If things had gone wrong, he would have been the one to rip the traitor's throat right out of his body, and he wouldn't be scared to deny it.
Magpiewing wasn't TreeClan anymore, and that reality had made Pumafang's entity far more menacing towards the black and white tom during the expedition, though the murderer was long gone now: they had left him to his own devices a few hours ago, and after a quick nap, him and Timberfrost were back on the road. The black and white tom who they were tasked with escorting was roaming somewhere in the mountains now, and if he knew what was best for him, he would leave TreeClan alone. Though Pumafang assumed the cat felt protected, just as all the tom's other dim-witted ex-clanmates: he wouldn't be surprised if TreeClan saw Magpiewing some time in the future.
They don't understand. He mused. The world is a dangerous place.
Pumafang continued the trek in silence, thoughts spinning a web of intricate scenarios. He absorbed his environment like hot, dry earth sucking up water, waiting patiently for something interesting to happen.
Like usual, he was disappointed.
TREECLAN | WARRIOR | 27 MOONS
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Feb 19, 2019 23:54:43 GMT -5
Timberfrost The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder There was a bad taste in her mouth.
The massive tabby absolutely loathed the fact that Magpiewing was allowed not only safe passage from Treeclan, but safe passage with life. The breath should have been ripped from his rotting carcass, mercy not an option for traitors.
Lionstar is soft.
While the large warrioress respected and followed her leader with unbound loyalty, she did not agree with many of his ideals and ways of leading.
Killing a cat was one thing, Timberfrost didn't find the harm in weeding out rogues that threatened her clan, maybe even the occasional Nightclan warrior... but betraying your clan was something that didn't settle with the frosted tempered feline.
Not even Goldenflame had escaped the karma of planning to betray Treeclan.
The change in terrain pulled the hostile feline from her aggressive thoughts, cerulean chips gave a glance over a broad shoulder. She practically begged Magpiewing to show arrogance and slink his way back towards where the boarder waited. At least she could get rid of her pent up aggression towards the whole situation that had built the moment the clan realized Ravenstorm had been killed within the safety of the camp.
Returning her gaze forwards, Timberfrost paused to let that frosted glare run over her massive companion. The dark tabby was rather large when it came to several of her clanmates, it wasn't often she was out-sized. She didn't know much about Pumafang, of course she chose to ignore him most of her life as he had been Goldenflame's final apprentice. A perceptive mind told her that he was visibly bored with this whole ordeal.
For a moment Timberfrost was slightly curious as to what his opinion on Magpiewing was. But just as it had arised, it had disappeared. She wasn't the type to delve into the mindsets.
"Look what we got here boys..." A sharp voice brought Timberfrost's head swinging back towards the slopes of the mountains. A scrawny brown tom was standing on a high rising rock, three scarred and battered rogues gathered on rocks beneath him. Hunger and aggression swam in the eyes of all four cats, fangs bared and growls rising within their chests. "A couple of trespassers..."
"You know what we do to trespassers?" The original rogue spoke again, spitting the words like venom as he eyed both Pumafang and Timberfrost. With an ear flicker, the massive tabby turned to face the cats square on. Her gaze was frosted and cold with hardly any emotion within the ice chips.
"Do you know what we do with mange-pelts?" Timberfrost asked in a leveled voice, tone cold and piercing as a smirk curled along her maw, almost amused with the rogue's attempt at scaring either one of the massive Treeclan warriors. Her itch to fight flared within her chest as the she-cat stood her ground without fear.
She Cat | 20 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior Let shenanigans begin! | 492 Words | @jet Fawn | Image
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Post by Deleted on Feb 20, 2019 14:12:01 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang Timberfrost's rebuke made him smirk. Pumafang let out a soft snort as his eyes raked over the gathered rogues. Four. The massive, chocolate black warrior thought, slightly insulted. Only four, and they think they can take on us? Pumafang's gaze darted over to Timberfrost for a moment, noticing how her body was readily poised for battle. It was almost as if he felt her energy, the ground's frost sending sharp, jolting adrenaline coursing up his legs to his core.
That'll be the death of them. He mused, stepping forward intimidatingly. He noticed the rogue closest to him shrank backwards ever so slightly, letting slip a nervous flick of his ears. Locking eyes with the assumed leader, Pumafang spoke.
"It would be wise of you to leave us to our own devices." Pumafang's voice rumbled like distant thunder, achingly monotonous.
The strangers were ultimately undistinguished. Mediocre at best, and no features that defined them as worthy opponents. The leader was a brown tom with yellow eyes, plain and ordinary being incredible understatements: even his voice was average. His followers were just as common as he, though the only she-cat looked to be more of a competition than the others: her stature was short, though muscles rippled more-so under her thin pelt than her scrawny, emaciated counterparts. She seemed a little more full in form than the others, though to Pumafang's distaste, most was centralized around her flank.
StarClan's forests...we're getting attacked by queens now too. The mountainous TreeClanner thought, though he couldn't overlook the actuality that they had retained some benevolence, obviously feeding the cat carrying their kits the best.
All their pelts were a bland brown, just like their bold and brazen designated speaker.
"Leave you?" The rogue snarled, dangerously unstable. "One doesn't just catch prey then let it go."
The hunger in their eyes made Pumafang's skin crawl.
Even the tom who had shrank back before had grown foreboding and fearless. The leader slumped down from his perch, hitting the ground with a heavy, graceless thud. The cats were starving, and though Pumafang felt as though he could have taken on all four of them by himself within the safety of the warrior code, he had a hunch that these rogues didn't have a stately set of morals like the clans in the valley.
Reality of their situation sent energy rushing through the immense, black tom like rapids in a river.
For the TreeClanners, this was fight to the death.
All grew still before the storm. Pumafang's short fur was spiked up in anticipation. His amber eyes were glowing with eagerness, and when the small, brown she-cat's eyes locked with his, he noticed the leader's tail flick with authority. In the blink of an eye, it rained cats and claws, screeching and caterwauling filling the dark before dawn.
The mountainside had erupted into chaos, and all Pumafang could see in the dim, cinder-grey light were ravenous, flashing eyes. His heart pounded, and although he struck out powerfully, his onslaughts were slower, bogged down with his cumbersome weight and the numbing tiredness of non-stop travel on an empty stomach. The tom did well avoiding the snapping jaws and ripping claws of the small she-cat, though teeth dug into the back of his neck as the other tom latched himself onto Pumafang's back with a chewing grip. He felt the rogue's claws dig into his shoulder's and haunches, though the way he sucked in every drop of his blood made the huge TreeClanner shudder.
The she-cat drove him backwards from the front while the tom attacked him viciously from above, sending Pumafang stumbling backwards. He felt land crumble beneath his paws as gravity thrust him and both of his adversaries over the mountainside. The hissing, scratching tangle was momentarily quieted by a breathtaking crash.
Pumafang hit the ground with a dizzying smack. He felt the body who had latched onto his back crumble from the impact like a ball of snow hitting hard, frozen earth. The she-cat had hit Pumafang then rammed into the cold, unforgiving stone: the TreeClanner had partially braced her fall as the rogue did his. She moaned, stirring faintly. As much as his body ached, wounds burned, and head spun, the black warrior pulled himself to his paws with a stumbling swagger. They were lucky there was a relatively well sized ledge to break their fall.
Now he could focus on her.
His amber eyes watched, amused, as she pulled herself to her paws, though he noticed blood trickling from one of her ears. Wails filled the night as the rogue mourned her fallen companion. Probably her mate. Pumafang mused, danger sharp as daggers in his gold-auburn gaze. The she-cat spun around, enmity dripping from her eyes like molten lava. Her voice was filled with loathing, slipping off her tongue icily as she circled around the execrated TreeClan warrior.
"You will die, and I will be the one to rip out your heart!" The queen hissed, eyes misted over with frenetic hatred.
"Really?" Pumafang flaunted heartlessly. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."
"You will die!"
"You can still run." He taunted to the crazed queen. She had grown unreasonably mad. "Think of your kits. To end their lives because of your personal feud?"
Pumafang crouched, hoping she would succumb to his provocation. To end a life on accident was shameful: he didn't want to walk away without a genuine kill, though he would respect her space if she chose to flee. He could offer the innocent kits that much.
All of a sudden, she hissed in pain, dropping to the stony ground as if she had been shoved. She began moaning, though Pumafang just sat and watched tail flicking in irritation. What is she doing? He growled to himself.
To his surprise, a wet bundle slid onto the rock after a couple minutes. He approached, cutting open the sack with his jaws and moving the wet, mewling kit to its mother's belly. A small, brown tom, spitting image of his mother.
Soon after the first came another, though it made neither noise nor movement.
Death was evident, not only in the stillborn kit, but its mother as well. She had vomited, then began writhing violently. Pumafang snatched the kit away from the crest of her belly, setting the bundle down beside him, watching in interest as blood pooled by his mother's ears. After what felt like an eternity of struggle, the she-cat was overcome by stillness. The kit's crying stole Pumafang's attention, the vulnerable, squirming nuisance sending a spark of irritation rush through him. Regardless, his tongue rasped the bundle delicately. It is so small. He thought, an inkling of fondness for the helpless life surfacing in the depths of his chest.
The kit was curled in the pit of his chest, his short fur doing a piss-poor job of warming the small, brown tom.
Pumafang stared emptily at the scene before him. The father's body broken on the edge of the cliff, mother's body still and bleeding, and brother never born alive. All the bodies were growing stiff from the morning chill, and even his new kit's wailing grew quieter. He continued to groom him, trying to warm the tiny life.
"Mousedung." He hissed, amber eyes searching for Timberfrost.
For a boring trip, it turned out to be quite eventful after all.
TREECLAN | WARRIOR | 27 MOONS
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Mar 20, 2019 6:12:55 GMT -5
Timberfrost The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder The chill of battle ran through her veins and the frost around her heart hardened as it's beat rapidly increased with the intensity of the air around the group of cats at the base of the mountain side. Smirk still present upon her maw, the massive feline narrowed in on two of the scrawny brown tomcats closer to her.
Long, curled claws slide smoothly from the large paws of the tabby she-cat, gaze like chips of ice.
It took but a moment before chaos broke out between the Treeclanners and the ravenous rogues that made the mistake of taking shelter within the mountainous range surrounding the valley of the clans.
Something her companion didn't have, speed. Timberfrost had the luck of not only being a powerful warrior but she had the speed that could keep up with cats that were smaller than she was. Leaping from boulder to boulder, the massive tabby made her way quickly towards her end goal.
Ducking under a tom that launched his scrawny form at her, Timberfrost took the chance to slam her body into what seemed to be the older of the two. He had a scar ripped across his face and a crooked tooth from his jaw poking out against his upper lip. His body slammed painfully against the rocks behind him and crumpled to the ground as he gave a pained hiss.
Pathetic.
Timberfrost gave an annoyed snarl, only the dense fur upon her broad shoulders spiked up, tail lashing behind her. Frosted gaze turned from the older tom to the younger who finally made his way back up the mountain side to where the tabby warrior stood waiting. Pale yellow gaze caught her frozen pools, the tabby giving a low growl in response to him trying to act tough. An ear flickered atop the young warrioress's head when the sound of a snarl came from behind her, the elder tom must have gotten back up with the arrival of his buddy.
Launching her massive form at the elder tom in a quick movement, the tabby she-cat pinned his frail from beneath her while sinking her teeth the back of his neck. The brown tom's movements were slow and weak from the beginning, hardly strong enough to bother Timberfrost with weak strikes. However, when the younger tom leaped onto her back, digging sharp nails into her shoulders, the massive feline reared up in an attempt to get him off.
The temperamental feline caught sight of Pumafang tumbling off the side of a rock with the two cats who had the unfortunate luck to fight the massive tomcat. Oh Foxdung! The younger warrior gave a cold growl that rumbled within her chest and vibrated within her ears as she quickly changed gears, tired of playing with these two weak rogues. And now she had to check if Pumafang had really been foolish enough to fall off the side of the mountain. In terrain such as this, being aware of surroundings was rather important when it came to battles.
Ignoring the tom upon her back for just a moment, Timberfrost whipped around to slam her massive paw into the face of the elder brown tom, claws slicing through his cheek as well as slamming him once again into the boulder behind his frail body, head knocking painfully before his body completely collapsed. Blood trickled from underneath his head, eyes glazed over signalling that he was no longer alive.
"No!" Screeched the younger cat, obviously unaware of his predicament before Timberfrost dropped into a roll, squishing his form underneath her larger body and forcing him to let go of his annoying grip upon her shoulders. Standing and facing her opponent, Timberfrost wisely noted the drop off behind where she stood and quickly dodged forward underneath the rogue as he leaped at her. Emotion and fury rippled through his gaze before fear overtook his body as he tumbled roughly down the mountain side, his body landing at an awkward angle farther down than the warrior cared to look.
Giving a flick of her tail, the frosted feline made her way over to where she had seen Pumafang go down, pearing over the side to find his massive form with that of a newborn kit. Confusion rippled through Timberfrost for a moment, realizing that one of the cats he had been fighting must have been pregnant or just gave birth just before the mountainside erupted into a messy battle.
"Did you beat that rogue back into a kit?" Her voice was deep and just as chilly as the snow around them, her sarcasm heavy and dry. Glancing around to see the broken bodies of the other two rogues, Timberfrost let that chilly gaze pass slowly over the living kit as it shivered and gave a tiny mew. "What do you plan on doing with it?" It wasn't like the tabby suggested they leave the kit to die, she still had a heart even if it was dark and cold.
Would Lionstar even take in a rogue kit?
Probably.
But honestly, Timberfrost didn't think the tiny scrap of bones and fur would survive the rest of the way to Treeclan's camp, let alone the night.
She Cat | 20 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2019 9:19:42 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang Timberfrost's jest creased his lips in a faint smile, though only for a half-second before indifference reined his features yet again. What was to be done with it? Obviously they must take it back to TreeClan. The warrior code states that no warrior can neglect a kit in pain or danger. Pumafang stared blankly at the ground as he replied to Timberfrost's comment dully, deep voice resonating ominously off the mountainside.
"We must obey the warrior code." He meowed, watching as the kit kneaded his chest, burying its nose into his fur and suckling for even a droplet of milk. Pumafang picked the kit up and walked it back to its mother. It tried to nurse, though the dead queen had not even a drop of milk to offer, and the reality that this kit would likely not survive made Pumafang mildly upset.
He caught himself, throwing himself back off the precipitous cliff of compassion. This was no time for emotion. They had to cover ground to get back to camp, and the kit couldn't even get a drop of the first milk. Pumafang watched as the kit squirmed and meowed, the tom's shrill squeaking growing more fierce as Pumafang backed away. Should they leave it there to die? It would be a softer, warmer death huddled in his dead mother's fur than to be carried by the scruff and blasted by the wind.
Though he had already fallen for the kit, his heart pulled towards the mewling bundle involuntarily. Timberfrost wasn't there. She didn't watch the kit's birth and temper its cries with a warm tongue. How could she understand?
He sat watching the tom writhe away from his mother's body, panic making the kit release loud squeaks.
The massive, chocolate black tom succumbed, returning to the kit and sheltering him from the chilly dawn in the crease of his arm. He looked at Timberfrost. It was a precarious situation in regards to morality. The kit had attached itself to Pumafang, thanks to his hasty, foolish heroism, and either way the small life would likely die.
At least this way, Pumafang could bury him back in the valley and not leave his body for the scavengers.
"We must take him with us, despite the odds." The chocolate black tom rumbled, voice powerful and deep like distant thunder.
TREECLAN | WARRIOR | 30 MOONS
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Apr 17, 2019 18:47:38 GMT -5
Timberfrost The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder The massive feline was impressed with the compassion and softness of the normally cold shouldered tomcat laying below her position while curled around a newborn kit. The temperature outside was frosty and harsh, it was likely the poor scrap of fur wouldn't survive the travel back to the warmth of Treeclan's nursery.
It was heartless to leave it there, as well as against the precarious Warrior's Code, though it seemed heartless to let it suffer to death while attempting to save it.
Flickering her tail the cerulean eyed she-cat gave a quick nod, agreeing with her clanmate before she looked for a safe path down to where Pumafang was with the shivering kit as it curled up against his flank, desperately looking for food.
Was is bad that her frozen heart didn't stutter at the horribly sad scene or at the fact she knew the kit's life was in danger? Timberfrost lacked certain connections at times, practically emotionally frozen from her time as a kit and apprentice. Reason and rationally won out in times such as this, life comes and goes. If the kit wasn't meant for the valley then Starclan would guide it safely to their paws.
"There looks to be a path in the mountain there, just on your left." Using her tail, Timberfrost pointed out the jagged formation that spiraled back towards the original path the two Treeclanners had been on after seeing Magpiewing from their territory and past the known borders.
"If we hurry, we should make it home by the time night falls." It'd be a full moon tonight, and Lionstar would want to hurry to the gathering. Timberfrost had never been big on the social event, but if invited it wasn't like she was going to deny herself a chance to observe the other clans rival to her own. She Cat | 20 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior
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