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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2019 14:17:47 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 33 MOONS “What are you doing here?”
Pumafang’s slow, eerie rumble made the night tremble in the deputy’s wake. Even the crickets silenced momentarily. Coincidentally most likely, for those of lesser intelligence were rarely ever quiet. Fools, I’m surrounded by idiots. Pumafang thought as he eyed Brackenstride head to tail. Lionstar’s son was once his peer, and although Pumafang felt as distant from the tom as two desolate islands, perhaps their past could be a bridge for communication.
Perhaps some notion of ‘brotherly’ sympathy could be expunged from Pumafang’s cold hearted ways, though his attempt at extroversion would likely be wasted. How futile. Pumafang mused as he stood staring lifelessly at Brackenstride. A massive, black shell of a cat, about to attempt something more socially than simply nothing at all. For those with feelings wanted that false sense of security, that pretense Pumafang sought yet could never sincerely grasp.
What a waste. Pumafang's empty thought was replicated with a spark of internal distaste. Brackenstride’s future looked grim if the tom couldn't heed logic and caution. TreeClan had given this area wide berth since the incident with Demon. Was Brackenstride that desperate to go looking for solitude? Or was it trouble the tom was looking for?
Pumafang’s tail twitched, the silence between the two warriors stretching on, the crickets lending their pointless opinions to the world in a myriad of muddled chirps.
Pumafang felt like one of them, speaking to Brackenstride at least. The younger tom never did seem to value the voice of others, and the act of showing up here tonight? Pumafang had trouble deciphering if his peer cared so little for the lives and wellbeing of his clan mates, or if Brackenstride was too focused on himself to see how much he meant to those around him.
The tom really hadn’t changed, lost as ever, drowning in arrogance and recklessness. Though he was still a clanmate in distress, and Pumafang had admittedly ignored Brackenstride’s opinions when in Lionstar’s shadow. Perhaps without his father around, they could have a more honest conversation.
So how was he to proceed?
“If we wanted to take out NightClan with one cat, we would have sent Falconstorm, not you.” He started casually, his rasp devoid of emotion. The massive black tom's tail flicked, dismissing his empty, pointless jest. It hadn't taken him long to discover wit, a natural salve for those either surly or silent. Humor was what the common populus craved socially, at least from what his studious and observant nature had uncovered. Pumafang’s senses dispersed to his surroundings as a faint rustle captured his attention. If Brackenstride was out this far, the last thing he wanted was to talk to someone.
Right?
Though Pumafang’s eyes, ears, and nose drank in the crepuscular world around him, from earth to sky. The deputy’s movements grew minimal, until he all but froze completely still.
NightClan?
Pumafang’s head turned slowly back towards Brackenstride, amber eyes scanning Lionstar’s son closer for wounds or missing fur. He would have smelled blood before now, right? Or had his infatuation for Timberfrost numbed his senses even without her presence?
Something wasn’t right, and Brackenstride knew it too. Pumafang walked closer, an encompassing shadow in the night.
How annoying. Pumafang thought.
NightClan chose a bad time to send their deciduous dwelling neighbors ungracious insults.
Word Count: 586 Tags: Fawn Notes: xxx
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Post by Fawn on Aug 21, 2019 23:20:01 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize Foxdung. Pumafang had followed him here. With a flare of temper and a flashing grimace, Brackenstride turned around to stare down the enormous brown-black tom. He snorted at Pumafang's remark about sending Falconstorm instead of him. "I'm not here to take out NightClan," not yet, "I wanted to see if their camp was underwater, same as RainClan's."
Maybe we could use that to our advantage. Maybe they could chase NightClan into the mountains, so the valley could finally be rid of them. Some sixth sense prickled the hairs on Brackenstride's neck, and he spun to face the darkness of the distant pines on NightClan's side of the forest. He couldn't hear Pumafang breathing, and knew the tom had grown as still as stone, both cats rendered mute by the concentration required to catch another slight rustle...
There was the scurry of small prey feet. Brackenstride's eyes narrowed, just as something not prey-like shot out of the treeline in pursuit. NightClan! Fury surged from clawtip to tail, Brackenstride lunging for a slender tortoiseshell. He caught her by surprise, a screech ripped from her maw as Brackenstride's attack knocked the wind from her lungs.
Snakeflower wriggled beneath him like an eel, throwing him off balance as she twisted free of his grasp. Brackenstride, fur bushed and teeth gnashing, felt a flicker of confusion as Snakeflower hissed at him and ran.
What? If this wasn't an attack then...
"They're stealing prey!" Brackenstride spat on the ground, crouched to spring after the she-cat and make her pay. "Cowards! They think we're so weak they can just walk through our woods any time they want!" He should've kept his mouth shut, he knew, but the words had surged out of him before he could grasp the concept of sneaking up on the others.
They'd know Pumafang and Brackenstride were there, whether they heard his snarls or not.
The golden tom swung his head around to the Clan deputy. "Well? Are we gonna stand here like saplings or teach NightClan a lesson?" 21 Moons TreeClan Tom 336 words @jet quote by muhammad ali
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Post by Deleted on Aug 26, 2019 12:53:51 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 33 MOONS It all happened in a blink.
Brackenstride pounced. Pumafang bounded forward. The NightClan cat fled. At least, one of them. Pumafang spun around, ending up face to face with a small tortoiseshell tom, the trespasser bristling angrily.
I’m the time it took for Brackenstride to chase off a hunter and turn to his deputy, the TreeClan cats were surrounded.
If you could call it that.
Pumafang barely heard Brackenstride. His amber eyes recognized Rookshade immediately, then Pinewhisker’s ginger form melted from the shadows. She is looking quite thin. Pumafang noted, watching as the she-cat set down a TreeClan mouse before his eyes. Jaystep seemed arrogant as ever, though Rookshade was the first to spit out an abrasive remark.
“If it isn’t the murderer and his bodyguard.” Hatred burned in the depths of Rookshade’s yellow-tinted gaze as he growled and hissed, eying Brackenstride greedily, like the young TreeClan tom had a bounty on his head, dead or alive. Dead by the looks of it. Pumafang almost snorted aloud. He really isn't very creative with insults is he?
“A whole thieving family and a crippled elder.” Pumafang started. “It looks like you got your cowardice from your mother, and your stupidity from your father.” Pumafang’s amber gaze brushed listlessly across Jaystep’s form. “How did something so small and useless come out of him?” Pumafang meowed emptily to the public, his tail twitching in irritation. The clearing grew deathly quiet. How could NightClan possibly think they had the upper hand in this situation? Fools, I’m surrounded by idiots. Pumafang thought again.
If he had his way, NightClan wouldn’t exist in the valley come leaf-bare.
“I’ve been wondering that for moons.” Jaystep growled, giving his son a hard stare as he stepped forward, though it was Pinewhisker who seemed to attempt to diffuse the situation.
“We will be on our way.” She stated flatly, picking up the mouse.
“Get lost in the Dark Forest old hag, we have Brackenstride and TreeClans deputy in our claws!” Rookshade sneered loudly, an attempt to win the favor of his father. Jaystep just snorted and walked towards Pinewhisker, the two older warriors were headed past Pumafang and Brackenstride.
Where do they think they’re going? Pumafang felt a spark of fury burn in the depths of his stomach, staring coldly as they went to pass, shifting in front of them like a glacier.
“We haven’t addressed the issue at hand.” Pumafang started, the massive, chocolate black tom maintaining composure as he faced the two senior warriors. Pinewhisker and Jaystep exchanged glances.
“You never saw us.” Jaystep hissed. “Now it has been addressed.” The tom went to shove past, but Pumafang shouldered him back.
“That is TreeClan prey.” Pumafang gave Pinewhisker a hard stare. The three cats locked gazes. Pumafang heard Rookshade’s voice faintly in the background, and as much as he would have liked to watch Brackenstride rip the little pipsqueak apart, Pumafang had his paws full with the elders.
The deputy’s hackles began to rise, and within moments, the night erupted in a tangle of dark fur and screeches.
Word Count: 530 Tags: Fawn Notes: xxx
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Post by Fawn on Aug 26, 2019 22:05:36 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize It felt like a mere heartbeat had passed before the NightClan cats revealed themselves; a slender tortoiseshell Brackenstride recalled seeing at the branch trail battle, a thin worn-looking ginger she-cat, and a sleek gray tom of similar age who looked the most capable of them all. The tortoiseshell tom had a mouth on him, too, instantly snaring Brackenstride's attention.
Murderer and bodyguard. Brackenstride spat on the ground, taking no insult at Rookshade's namecalling. NightClan thinks I'm a murderer? So what. The day he gave a rat's tail about NightClan opinions was the day he turned his back on his own family, his own Clan. Pumafang had his paws full, that much was clear, and Brackenstride helped himself to the third remaining opponent.
The little runt who just didn't know when to tuck his tail between his legs and go home.
Brackenstride's muscles rippled like a panther's as he stalked forward, low and powerful. Rookshade was quick and reedy, the perfect build for a cat who could attack but couldn't defend. Brackenstride was different. He was leaner than his father, no question, and he lacked the impressive mane to protect his throat or the enormous paws with which to rend his opponents - but he had learned how to compensate.
How to read his enemies. How to be better.
Golden eyes gleamed, wild and exhilerated, as he predicted Rookshade's first move. The little weasel darted, trying to land a blow on Brackenstride's muzzle - but he jerked his head out of reach, lashing out to smack Rookshade's paw out of the way, crushing it into the pineneedle-strewn ground to keep his foe in place. In a heartbeat, he had tackled Rookshade, feeling the air rush out of his opponent's body as he sent him sprawling. "I don't want to kill you in front your daddy," Brackenstride sneered, "but you're such a pathetic excuse for a warrior, he might want me to."
The sting of TreeClan deputy Pumafang's insults were still hanging in the air, and Brackenstride built upon them, unimpressed with a warrior who talked better than he fought. Anyone that eager to taste TreeClan claws was a mousebrain. Anyone who thought they could steal from TreeClan was a whole new breed of stupid.
21 Moons TreeClan Tom 371 words @jet quote by muhammad ali
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2019 22:20:29 GMT -5
BELIEVE IN STRENGTH Pumafang TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 33 MOONS Pumafang had underestimated Pinewhisker. NightClan's crippled leader turned out not to be a burden to her clan after all. So far. Pumafang thought as he felt the she-cat's nimbleness prick his skin and make him bleed.
Jaystep was an easier opponent, a heavier cat, far more brawny than his quick, ginger counterpart. All Pumafang had to do was deflect Pinewhisker's weak, yet swift blows long enough to take care of her partner in crime, though it proved far more difficult than he had thought, especially when a different flash of fur snagged his attention.
Snakeflower had tumbled into the fray, darting straight for Brackenstride with a glaze of hatred in her eyes.
Pumafang felt a rush of anger, catching Pinewhisker with a heavy blow in the side of her head. The old she-cat staggered backwards in confusion. It was a move enough to cause Jaystep to falter, giving Pumafang a split second to choose. Lionstar would dismember me and feed me to Demon if I don't. Pumafang thought, letting out a soft hiss before pouncing forward and intercepting Snakeflower during her blind rampage towards Brackenstride.
TreeClan's deputy sent the she-cat reeling sideways into the undergrowth with a gasp. Except, it wasn't a soft bed of ferns and bushes. Snakeflower found herself nested deep in a cluster of brambles, barbs ripping into her fur angrily. What an unintentional convenience. Pumafang mused.
The she-cat hissed and cried as she squirmed, trapped in the labyrinth of branches and thorns. Pumafang whipped around and began lumbering menacingly towards Jaystep and Pinewhisker with a cold, dead look in his eyes, tongue swiping across his maw like he was cleaning up after a meal. Jaystep's hackles raised.
"Stop, Rookshade!" Jaystep yowled angrily, eyes darting over critically towards his stunted son, a flash of concern alight in his eyes as he heard Snakeflower struggle. "Stop right now, you fool, you disgrace! This is all because you couldn't watch out for your own mother! You had one job. One job!"
Jaystep lurched forward and walked angrily towards Snakeflower, glancing up at TreeClan's deputy with a fire in his eyes as he moved in the direction of his mate, leaving Pinewhisker crouched on the ground in a daze. Pumafang watched emptily, shifting once again into Jaystep's path. Pumafang relished the noise of NightClan suffering because of their own stupidity.
Although he didn't want to seem too morbid, he had an opportunity to leave these four cats an achingly clear message, and Snakeflower's wails just made the night feel that much more sinister.
"Do you hear that?" Pumafang stepped in close and whispered to Jaystep, breathing confidently into the NightClanner's ear. The trespasser stood achingly still, jaw tightening as he listened to Pumafang's chilling rumble, feeling the TreeClanner's warm breath on the side of his face. "That is the sound of fate's revenge, destiny's collection for Snakeflower's wrongdoings. Let's wait until she has flayed herself in her struggles, so she can pay for all of NightClan, shall we?"
Fear flashed in Jaystep's eyes.
"Or," Pumafang started up again, stepping backwards a few steps and speaking more openly, eyes shifting to every cat in the clearing before resting back on Jaystep. "Rookshade can tell me, right now, where you've buried your stolen prey. Your retreat from TreeClan's territory is to occur immediately after you retrieve your squirming, stupid, squirrelbrain of a clan cat from her crown of thorns. If you can."
Pumafang grinned ominously, letting out a foreboding growl.
"You have ten seconds to decide."
Jaystep glared at his son, the clearing disturbingly quiet. The tension was nearly palpable, though Pumafang's posture was languid and calm. His eyes hadn't left the boundaries of Jaystep's face, though his ears drank in the noise of the night. Pinewhisker's heavy breathing. Snakeflower's labored moans. Jaystep's silence. Brackenstride and Rookshade.
This could be interesting. Pumafang thought, feeling adrenaline rush hotly through his body.
Would the real battle between NightClan and TreeClan begin tonight, or will NightClan retreat like the cowering thieves they were and save their own skins to steal and fight another day?
Part of Pumafang didn't want to let them.
TreeClan's deputy slumped dangerously into a prowl, steps in sync with the three words that slipped off of his tongue.
"Time is up."
Word Count: 716 Tags: Fawn Notes: xxx
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Post by Fawn on Aug 30, 2019 23:08:54 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize "Do you hear that? That is the sound of fate's revenge, destiny's collection for Snakeflower's wrongdoings. Let's wait until she has flayed herself in her struggles, so she can pay for all of NightClan, shall we?"
The young lion's claws stilled mid-rake. Pumafang's words were not meant for him. They carried no weight, no promise of doom for TreeClan. Yet Brackenstride's chest tightened, as if Pumafang's words had wrapped themselves around his ribcage and were squeezing in, cinching tighter with every painful cry of the struggling NightClan cat. Brackenstride growled low when Rookshade squirmed in his grasp, and he kept the runt firmly planted into the dirt, preventing rescue or escape - whatever Rookshade valued more.
Though the expression twisting Brackenstride's muzzle was one of a haughty leer, he couldn't make it mean something. The rage over this theft was hardly quenched, but a warring emotion was surging up from the pit of his being. Brackenstride didn't try to name it. Cursing under his breath, the golden tom left Rookshade in the dirt like crowfood, and went to the agonized she-cat stuck in the brambles. The thorns were long and dangerous enough that instinct told him to recoil when he got close, but, teeth clenched, Brackenstride reached in and put his full weight on one of the bush's biggest limbs, bending it down until it created a prickly opening for Snakeflower to take.
When the she-cat was close, Brackenstride - with a deep breath - plunged in up to his neck, ignoring the fiery scratches and pricks as he snapped his teeth around the NightClan cat's scruff. With a mighty heave, Brackenstride ripped the she-cat free of the brambles. As soon as the thorns released Snakeflower from their unforgiving grip, Brackenstride let her go, twisting to clench a thorn bramble stuck in his shoulder. He pulled it out with his teeth, spitting it into the grass.
"She's not the one who needs to pay for NightClan's wrongdoings," he growled, facing the group with an intensity all his own. "And TreeClan doesn't need another Clan to catch our prey for us. Get out!" Brackenstride took a bold step forward, gaze flicking to Rookshade once and then to Jaystep, the only one who had given off any air of leadership to the hunting party. "You're pathetic, every last one of you. Go eat your stolen prey, lick your wounds. Any cat that lingers will face worse than thorns."
Any move NightClan made now would only solidify their status as petty, honorless rogues. Brackenstride hadn't thought much of mercy before today, but something in him, something like empathy forced him to act. If it has been his mother in the thorn patch, and NightClan had stood there, mocking her pain and not raising a single paw to help her...
It made his insides shudder with cold fury. I'm a mousebrain, thinking honor still matters. If it did, if basic decency still mattered, then they wouldn't be teetering on the edge of war. Golden eyes found Pumafang's shape in the darkness. He couldn't guess what the Clan deputy was thinking - if he would scorn him for overriding his authority in front of their enemies or not - but Brackenstride knew it wouldn't be discussed in front of NightClan. 21 Moons TreeClan Tom 541 words @jet quote by muhammad ali
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2019 1:02:27 GMT -5
Pumafang halted in front of Jaystep, glaring at the NightClan tom as Brackenstride spoke. Who would have thought that a TreeClanner would relinquish their advantage in such a situation? Snakeflower wouldn't die nestled in thorns. That was unheard of, and even the most inept of cats would soon find their way out. Though he must have been menacing enough to inspire insurgence even from his own clanmate. So there is such a thing as overplay. Pumafang's tail twitched slightly, his eyes still reading into Jaystep's character like a book. Brackenstride is his father's son. Except he only uses compassion sparingly, and to those who don't deserve it. The thought brushed through the chocolate-black tom's mind like a weak breeze. Pumafang's ears flicked behind him, listening to Brackenstride free the struggling she-cat from the brambles, though his eyes still assessed Jaystep's reaction. Was that...laughter? Pumafang felt his blood burn hot at Brackenstride's blatant disregard for subterfuge. He must have executed his bluff so well that even Brackenstride fell victim to it. Before all the NightClanner's nonetheless. Either way, it was obvious TreeClan had been belittled by NightClan, yet again. In periphery, he watched as Rookshade rolled to his paws, the tortoiseshell's maw creased in a smirk. Pinewhisker pulled herself to her paws and retrieved her mouse, hardly phased by the encounter. Snakeflower's tail flicked angrily. "Don't touch me, murderer!" The she-cat hissed, swatting at Brackenstride as she pulled away, gathering angrily with her mate and Pinewhisker. Pumafang's onslaught fell to pieces and TreeClan was shamed again, because of the actions of the incompetent. Irritation pricked under the colossal tom's skin, though he kept composure. Until Jaystep leaned in with a whisper of his own. "TreeClan's deputy doesn't even have the respect of his own clan." The tom sneered closely. "You will never be the leader Darkstar is, not with that thing tearing you down step by step."Pumafang's eyes erupted with hatred, and a swift club to the side of Jaystep's head made the senior warrior bounce back with furious hiss before turning to follow Pinewhisker and Snakeflower back to their territory. Rookshade watched from a distance as NightClan left to retreat, slowly slinking towards them, a dangerous look in his eyes. Pumafang turned to Brackenstride and sat down, amber gaze unwavering as he listened to the retreating pawsteps. He felt Rookshade's gaze burn into his pelt, the small tom passing by quietly, nefariously. The world grew still, and the forest felt intense. The deputy did not speak, but stared. Questions, comments, and criticisms rushed through his mind like wildfire, melting away emotion until he grew numb again. Though it was in the moment he was most vulnerable that Rookshade spun around and attacked. Just as expected. Pumafang shifted his head around at the last second, bracing for impact, feeling the small tom's needle-like teeth dig into the meaty part of his neck and Rookshade's claws tear at his flank. The massive tom roared, rolling into the small warrior and crushing him beneath brawn. Rookshade bounced back to his paws quickly and leaped forward at Pumafang again, letting out an angry growl. "Who's crowfood now?"
TreeClan's deputy rose in just enough time to see the tom lunge for his throat savagely. So this was how NightClan was going to fight. Pumafang's heart chilled and his eyes hardened mercilessly. The large tom deflected Rookshade's rage with great effort. There wasn't enough time to think, just to react. In milliseconds, Pumafang spun and landed heavily on the tortoiseshell's haunches in defensive retaliation, if there was such a thing. A sharp inhale was squeezed from Rookshade's chest as the young NightClan tom twisted awkwardly beneath TreeClan's deputy, who felt his weight crush down on the small warrior with a snap. Rookshade let out a bloodcurdling wail. Pumafang faltered, lurching backwards violently at the tom's cry. His tail thrashed back and forth as Pinewhisker and Snakeflower rushed from the forest to the young warrior's aide, heart still pounding from the encounter. Jaystep stood speechlessly, as did Pumafang, the two toms watching the scenes before them numbly. Jaystep edged closer to his rejected son. The father's voice pierced the cool air sharply, drowning out Rookshade's moans, his gaze frosty and empty as he scowled in distaste. "My son died today."
"Take his body and leave." Pumafang snorted at the crippled cat's squirming, groaning form, the deputy's amber gaze searching out Brackenstride. Once his eyes found purchase on the warrior's pelt, Pumafang's gaze never left Lionstar's son. The chocolate-black tom watched in silence, no current inclination to speak any further. Rookshade was the hardest opponent Pumafang had faced today. It seemed a shame the young cat ended up broken. Tags: Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Oct 24, 2019 19:49:16 GMT -5
Brackenstride if you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize Laughter. They were laughing at him. At his moment of compassion, at that small mercy he'd granted these undeserving pieces of crowfood. Brackenstride flushed with shame and fury, shaking in his paws as he struggled against the desire to scratch those stupid expressions off their faces. Pumafang's cold, unreadable expression did nothing to soothe him; it only made the weight of his decision feel even heavier, as if he'd let a bough land between his shoulder blades.
Now he had to carry it.
Jaystep whispered something to Pumafang, and with great restraint, TreeClan's deputy refrained from responding - even though Brackenstride could tell by the curl of the NightClan tom's lip that those words had been antagonizing. As much part of the fight as claws and teeth were.
The situation seemed to diffuse, enough so that NightClan turned to go home. Brackenstride bit his tongue until he tasted iron, holding his rage in, even if all he wanted to do was explode. Make them pay for mocking the things that truly mattered; for disrespecting TreeClan so deeply and without remorse.
A flash of color snapped Brackenstride back to attention, and his warning cry came too late. "Pumafang watch out!"
What happened next was a scene out of a nightmare - but it wasn't Brackenstride's nightmare. The fight was short and brutal, Rookshade was battered into the earth, weighed down by Pumafang's might until something must have broken. He heard the unsettling crack as clear as hooves on deadwood. Brackenstride could do no more than stare, repulsed as the now moaning, keening NightClan cat writhed where Pumafang had left him. There was something grotesquely familiar in the scents and sounds.
Blackwolf had not died in so pathetic a fashion, but Brackenstride still found himself reliving that moment. His old companions - shock and horror - flowed around him like a second skin. The golden tom retreated a step, as if Rookshade's pain were somehow infectious.
StarClan knew he had enough of his own.
The exchange between Pumafang and Jaystep was muted. The NightClan hunting party left to drag the whimpering, broken form away into the distant pine forests. The silence left behind was cruel and absolute. Brackenstride looked at Pumafang, his heart heavy as lead, though continuing to pound with abandon. He did not see remorse in his eyes. He didn't even see the sadism and wicked glee of battle like he had in Blackwolf's eyes. Pumafang was a different kind of monster.
Someone empty. Someone so full of jagged ice, nothing could thaw him, and any cat that tried to test themselves against him would end up just as broken as Rookshade. Brackenstride shuddered. He didn't know this cat who called himself deputy. One thing was as clear as the endless winter of Pumafang's gaze; he's no Gorsetail.
Without a word - what was would he even say to a cat like this? - Brackenstride turned back along the path he had taken to get here. Backtracking each pawstep would do nothing to erase tonight's events. The tension between his shoulders tightened. Whatever happened now, Brackenstride had a sinking feeling in his gut that nights like these would be a regular occurrance.
21 Moons TreeClan Tom 526 words @jet quote by muhammad ali
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Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2019 0:27:41 GMT -5
Pumafang felt the earth darken around him, reality fading to an unforgiving emptiness as he watched Brackenstride retreat into the forest. The crickets resumed their chorus while a soft, chilly breeze stirred the boughs and bushes, though the deputy's mind was in a different world: the look in Brackenstride's gaze sent Pumafang reeling backwards in time, reminiscing in the violence of his apprenticehood. It was the same glaze of numbness and answerability he had so often shed in the presence of his mentor moons ago. In that moment, what was it that flashed behind Pumafang's cold, amber gaze? The colossal tom's whiskers twitched, and one paw shifted in Brackenstride's direction, though his brief gesture was but a droplet of empathy quickly quenched by the droughts of indifference. The scarce compassion Pumafang had growing in the deserts of his heart quickly caught fire from a small spark: an indignant question. Would Brackenstride have survived it? Pumafang wondered, in that moment, how the arrogant, rebellious tom would have coped with Goldenflame's training methods. Although he knew it should have been disturbing, it was intriguing to predict what kind of cat Lionstar's son would have been with a touch of abuse sprinkled through his childhood. The black tom raced indifferently through his past, dodging questions like trees in a forest. Had it been his fault? Did he encourage his mentor to act so fiercely without even knowing? Had Goldenflame done that with all of his apprentices? Did he like the pain of his mentor's anger? Pumafang assumed them all, stifling his pride and belittling his suffering, releasing an air of brooding intensity rich with accountability and responsibility. He had been from the moment his heart died. Each strike from Goldenflame's paw, each bite from the monster's jaw...every insult that would fall, all on the shoulder's of an empty soul, torn apart by the indecency of a sadist. Pumafang's ears flicked backwards for a moment, his mind swirling with thoughts he knew should have incited something more than deadening heartlessness. It was in this moment, alone at the NightClan border, that Pumafang came to a dangerous conclusion. If there was any humanity left, it was barely breathing. There was nothing inside him besides a morbid, merciless intrigue for the future. The warrior code was the only thing that kept Pumafang in check: it was his only guide, a list of rules that never hurt him, but gave him some sense of purpose to grasp onto, a few words of encouragement whenever he felt there were none. Perhaps it was overwhelming resentment towards the world that torpefied him? Maybe it was fear that withdrew almost every trace of emotion, or a steely logic that suffocated his heart? Pumafang blinked. The scratches Rookshade's claws had scoured into his pelt began to sting slightly, and the bite in his neck burned like hot ash. The panther-like tom lumbered slowly after Brackenstride, tail twitching contemplatively. Fronds, wet with dew, licked his wounds as he pressed through the damp, dark forest. Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess
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