Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Sept 11, 2019 15:38:18 GMT -5
NightClan She-Cat 27 Moons
Amusement filtered through the gray feline's ever brilliant gaze as she stared down at her new apprentice for a moment, pleased with the younger she-cat's response. Cats, finished with their clan meeting, split apart to either get back to work or specifically congratulate the new apprentices that stood among the rest of them.
The night was still young, despite the moon hanging high within the sky at the moment and the troublesome warrioress wasn't about to let Bramblepaw miss her first night to explore. The youngster had already had that first taste when they two had ventured to the Ambush Pool a handful of moons ago, now she had the chance to explore the whole of Nightclan's pine forests.
Flickering that feathered tail of hers, Graywolf tilted her head towards the entrance of their cavernous camp and purred in that silky tone of hers, "Let's get going then." A smirk ever present upon the maw of the gray feline, she turned and lead the way up the sloping entrance tunnel that led out into the forest.
The Leaf-fall air was nice, a gentle breeze rolled through the forest as well as Graywolf's slightly fluffy fur. Nimble paws led the way with confidence, tracing old steps that she remembered from her first outing with Darkstar.
Despite her former mentor's intensity and the drilling training days Graywolf had gone through, she wasn't the type to teach in a similar fashion. Though Bramblepaw was her first ward, the gray feline already had a connection to her and it would only strengthen with the fast-pace, fun style that the older of the two was sure to bring.
"As much as I'd love to venture off towards Treeclan, i'm technically not suppose to be near the border for the time being." Graywolf mewed in a nonchalant tone, as though the rule not only bothered her but it was somewhat clear that she mostly ignored such a rule. She wasn't Nightclan's residential troublemaker for nothing, yet that being said, Graywolf wasn't about to lead a fresh apprentice to where active danger lay waiting.
The older she-cat would get her fill of fun another time.
"So, how about a stroll towards all the fun places within Nightclan!" Green pools blazed with a brilliant flame as Graywolf turned her attention back to the young, splotched she-cat as that smirk on her maw remained ever persistent. The moonlight above washing her in a silver light, almost causing her gray pelt to glow slightly.
Post by ▲ Fabrication on Sept 21, 2019 16:26:12 GMT -5
when you grow up your heart dies
nightclan she-cat 6 moons
Everything seemed to happen so fast. The ceremony she had been waiting for from the moment she was old enough to stand on her own four paws passed in only a few breaths. The cats were diverging away from the crowd, breaking off into their own smaller groups to continue with the usual business of the day. Bramblepaw felt overwhelmingly excited, if a little dazed. It was the first time she had been about to do anything without her brother and sister at her side, and though she would never admit it, she felt terribly nervous. Their absence was felt. Her eyes were drawn to the opening in the earth that led to the night-dappled pine forests beyond. Greywolf pointed there, a smirk playing across her maw. "Let's get going, then." She purred. Bramblepaw didn't need to be told twice. She stuck close to her mentor's side like a small brown burr, her golden eyes reflecting the light of the moon filtering down into NightClan's cavern. She had left her before, when she was three moons smaller. She smiled quietly to herself when she realised that her paws now fit the pawprints left by NightClan's warriors more snugly, her toes brushing the edges of those marks left in the dirt between the smooth stone floor.
"Woah." Bramblepaw whispered, her eyes quickly adjusting to the moonlight. It was cool, not quite cold. Though Bramblepaw had experienced many chilly nights in the rather open, over-exposed clearing their temporary camp resided in. "So, what are we learning, first?" Bramblepaw questioned, whiskers stirred by the Leaf-fall breeze. "Are we going to catch an owl? Fight a patrol? Mark the bor-"It only took a moment of not paying attention for her to manage to stumble over a log lying half-obscured in the mud. The trip didn't bother the newly named apprentice whatsoever. The point feline righted herself immediately, with only a brief embarrassed lick of her lips to indicate it had even taken place at all.
"As much as I'd love to venture off towards Treeclan, I'm technically not supposed to be near the border for the time being." The warrior told her, and when Bramblepaw raised her gaze to study Greywolf's eyes she could see a sly glint in her eyes. Does she go there, anyway? Bramblepaw felt a thump of excitement and uncertainty. As much as it sounded like an adventure to go against the rules, Bramblepaw wasn't sure if she'd ever have it in her to disobey a direct order from Darkstar. She had always been such a heavy figure of authority from the moment her mother first introduced them to her, that Bramblepaw's misbehaviour was always easily subdued with one stern glance from the tortoiseshell warrioress.
"So, how about a stroll towards all the fun places within Nightclan?" At that, Bramblepaw perked up her ears. "Okay!" She nodded eagerly. While a battle training session sounded much more exciting, the word "fun" was enough to win Bramblepaw over. "So... we're not going to go to the Deer Path?" She meowed hesitantly. It had been the place she had been trying to sneak off to the moon Greywolf had stopped her, but she had been too afraid to admit it. She knew that was where Blackwolf had been murdered, and she had heard the tale of that battle recounted over and over again, the details somewhat more obscured and messy each time.
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Nov 24, 2019 4:55:13 GMT -5
NightClan She-Cat 27 Moons
The gray she-cat wriggled her nose and whiskers in amusement as she studied her brown splotched apprentice. There was a free spirit locked away somewhere within the younger she-cat, and the warrior was curious to see if it could be awakened now that she was free from her mother's influence.
Not that Thornscar wasn't a good cat, she just happened to follow rules.
Plume tail flickering over the sleek back of the gray feline, Graywolf let her smirk remain upon her maw. Excitement was bubbling within her chest, as it was possible the warrior was just as giddy about being a mentor as Bramblepaw was about being an apprentice.
Was she worried about it? Of course not, Graywolf jumped into everything with a full head of steam and a heart full of wild adventure. She was confident that she could guide the youngster into her warriorhood moons, and she was going to make sure it was fun and memorable.
"I told you, I'm not suppose to go there." Her gaze continued to twinkle with mischief as the gray warrior lowered her voice ever so slightly. She was fairly positive that there were no other cats around, though even if there was it wasn't like she still wouldn't go against the rules.
Rules were made to be broken, it was more fun that way.
"But, the Deer Field is an important part of Nightclan territory, so." The tip of her fluffy tail twitched back and forth before she sprang into a playful crouch in-front of Bramblepaw. "Better keep your eyes open and your ears sharp."
With a wink from one of those vibrant green pools, Graywolf quickly jumped to her paws and turned to trot off towards the Treeclan border. She was curious as if Brackenstride would be lurking in the shadows again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Darkstar's tortoiseshell pelt within the forest.
"So, what are you hoping to see there?" Graywolf asked in that playful tone of hers, trotting lazily with her apprentice at her flank. She was sure Bramblepaw had heard stories about what happened upon that patch of land. Battles and scuffles of all kinds.
It was land that Treeclan and Nightclan had fought over for generations. It was the land that Blackwolf had given his lifeblood in an attempt to reclaim it from those filthy squirrel-brains.
Of course, that thought brought her back to that conversation she had with Lionstar's son, Blackwolf's killer. Brackenstride had taken the aged warrior's life in an attempt to save himself, Graywolf could help but understand his reasoning. Even if it did hurt her heart that her grandfather was gone.
Post by ▲ Fabrication on Dec 4, 2019 15:49:42 GMT -5
when you grow up your heart dies
nightclan she-cat 6 moons
“Aren’t warriors supposed to follow the rules?” Bramblepaw asked, and there was an adventure gleaming in her eyes. She dug her claws into the peaty earth, heart racing at the thought of not only going so close to the border with TreeClan but also defying Darkstar. Her mother’s sister was definitely not a cat she wanted to displease, but weren’t NightClan cats supposed to be the bravest of all? Claws and teeth and dark feline shapes flickered at the back of her mind. Scared of TreeClan, Bramblepaw? The sneering voice in her head sounded a lot like Roachpaw. She narrowed her eyes. I’m not scared of anything!
She nodded her head eagerly as Greywolf sprang into a graceful crouch in front of her, and comically widened her eyes so much she looked like an owlet. Her ears perked up until they strained. She followed Greywolf closely, straining on her paw tips in an attempt to make herself as tall as the sleek NightClan warrior. She tried to match her sauntering stride, stretching her paws out and imagining that the pair of them were on an important mission to spy on NightClan’s enemies. Her whiskers twitched with the thrill of it all.
Greywolf’s question took her by surprise. The crunch of fallen leaf litter beneath her paws was the only sound for a few moments as the young she-cat searched for her answer. Blood-stains… Claw-marks… Bones… The imagination of her kit-hood surged through her thoughts. “I don’t know.” She replied, skipping a step to keep up with her mentor’s long gait. “I spent so much time imagining what it might look like.” She confessed. “Batcry told us about the battles that happened there, but only when Echobreeze was out getting fresh-kill.” Her golden eyes glistened. “I think Batcry was worried she wouldn’t be happy with him giving us daymares or something. I never had daymares.” She insisted, the lie sour on her tongue as she remembered the countless dreams she’d had of screeching and battling cats.
“What was Blackwolf like?” She asked shyly. She’d heard that Blackwolf was Greywolf’s grandsire, and had heard nothing but tales of bravery and admiration about the dark black tom. But surely there was more to him than just a brave NightClan soldier who gave his life to win the Deer Path? Every cat had to come back to camp at some point and relax with clanmates, sharing fresh-kill. Every cat had to have friends and things they cared about outside of war and future battles.
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Dec 13, 2019 7:05:55 GMT -5
NightClan She-Cat 27 Moons
A noise of amusement parted the silky gray feline's maw at her apprentice's question. If the splotched youngster wanted a warrior who followed the rules, then she definently got the wrong mentor. The older she-cat practically lived by the idea that rules were made to be broken.
Otherwise life would be no fun.
Besides, "As long as no-one knows then we aren't really breaking the rules, are we?" The question was retorical but the grin on the warrioress' face was practically beaming as she glanced over her shoulder to give a wink with one of those playful, green pools. Flickering her plume tail, the wild spirited feline subtly slowed her lazy trot so that Bramblepaw wasn't struggling to keep up.
Though, the fact that she was trying to imitate Graywolf only caused the older she-cat to adore her apprentice that much more. During their first encounter the gray feline had caught Bramblepaw attempting to sneak out, which was practically impossible within the cavernous camp of Nightclan. But, rather than scold her, the rebellious feline had decided to sneak the kit out and show her around.
The wide eyed excitement and bubbly personality of the splotched brown she-cat was enough to win over the affection heart of the warrior. It honestly didn't take much, despite her fiery temper that could flair up, Graywolf was more a lover than a fighter, she just enjoyed the occasional tussle. Similar to the time she and Gracklestrike taught some respect to a couple fish-brained Rainclan apprentices.
She had also been impressed with the tenacity shown by the youngster when she heard about the fight both she and Hollowkit had gotten into with that snotty kit-brother of Spiderbite, Roachkit, though they were all apprentices now. Mischief brewing within her head, Graywolf could easily attempt a battle practive between Bramblepaw and Roachpaw, she'd love to see how that turned out.
Of course, she'd be rooting for Bramblepaw the entire time. She wasn't about to deny how bias she would be in any situation that involved her trainee.
One ear swivled backwards to listen to the young she-cat as she talked, amused with her retelling stories passed down by clan elders in attempts to frighten youngsters into obeying their mothers. They never personally worked for Graywolf, but then again, what did work when it came to the unpredictable warrioress. However, when it came to stories about the Deer Path, one thing was true. They were always tales of true danger and destruction.
How long had Nightclan and Treeclan been spilling blood over that patch of land? She could see where Bramblepaw's curiosity came from, what could be so important, so desperately needed that cats would continuously war over it. Even her grandfather had given his life in the attempt to win in back for their clan.
A fight she had been apart of.
Bramblepaw's next question caused a pause within the sultry trot of Graywolf, her paw slightly hovering over the ground before she set it down to turn and look at her apprentice. There was the faintest of readable emotions within those emerald pools, a tender sadness that stay dormant within the gray feline's chest until she thought about the rugged old tom that had lost his life earlier that year. Her smile softened ever so slightly as thought over how to describe such a cat, such a warrior that would long be remembered.
"Blackwolf was... intense, by all means of the word." Her whiskers wriggled with amusement as her rasp continued with a light tone. He hadn't been a gentle cat, or a nice cat for that matter, but he was still her grandfather and she viewed him in a different light than most other Nightclanners. And honestly, her view from her kithood nights was even different than her view now.
"He always acted like he didn't care, but i'm pretty sure that under that grumpy snarl he truely loved all of us." Of course she meant not only her littermates and herself, but Bonetail and his siblings too. Blackwolf's three kits. "Hollystorm told me once that he changed a lot after his mate died, Ghostlight. I suppose he lost apart of himself that day. That happened before I was born, but sometimes I could see what she was talking about in his eyes." Graywolf had always been very curious and interested in her grandmother, but getting information on her was painful for her aunt, uncles and for Blackwolf.
Apparently her loss deeply affected all of them. That kind of love was incredible and irreplaceable, something that despite her youth, Graywolf understood. She was one of those cats that loved hard.
Post by ▲ Fabrication on Feb 1, 2020 18:04:41 GMT -5
when you grow up your heart dies
nightclan she-cat 6 moons
The smell of the marsh as Leaf-fall was setting was definitely that of a dying world. The plants had already begun to rot, the prey was full of tension for a harder season where food for them and for their predators would be scarce. They would be hunted more viciously from now on, and their fear created an atmosphere of strained waiting. Even Bramblepaw, who was still so new to this world, could detect the apprehension on the wind. Is the beginning of Leaf-fall always like this? Bramblepaw wondered, for she had yet to live one full year. This was the first time she had ever seen the end of Greenleaf. As such a young cat, she was experiencing a lot of ‘firsts’ lately. The world being new, or her being new to the world, it made no difference. Everything was an adventure, even a simple walk through a territory that would soon become hers to defend. At least- she hoped so. Had an apprentice ever failed an assessment so badly that they didn’t then become a warrior? She thought of Breezepaw, with her gentle kindness and unwillingness to hurt another living creature with a pang of concern in her chest. Would she make it?
Greywolf’s eyes had a sly glint. “As long as no-one knows then we aren’t really breaking the rules, are we?” She asked with a wolfish grin that did justice to her name. Bramblepaw returned with a wicked smile, shoving all her doubts from her mind. With a wink and a flourish of that tufted grey tail, her mentor was leading her onward into the mysteries of the swamp. This new adventure mirrored the first venture from camp, where Greywolf had shown just as much propensity for mischief as she did now. “Well, then I’ll make sure no-one knows.” She replied with a snicker. She did feel a twinge of regret, for she had looked forward to a good boast to Roachpaw and Hollowpaw about her first day of training. But then… she could always tell just Hollowpaw. Her brother tended to be her rival, but he was no snitch. Besides, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone, even if he wanted to. Roachpaw, meanwhile…
Bramblepaw was also recalling that attempt at escape three moons ago. The fact that it was impossible had never deterred her, there was some part of her mind that genuinely believed she was invincible. Any obstacle, no matter how insurmountable, was simply a tempting challenge. She felt a little foolish now, thinking back on it, but she had been a kit then. Now, she was an apprentice! A long way from becoming a warrior, yes, but she was on the path she had longed to set out on ever since she first tasted the musty marsh air beyond the cavern. A robin landed on the ground a few tail-lengths away and tugged a worm out of the boggy soil before fluttering away from the trekking felines in alarm. A thrush zipped overhead, speckled stomach flashing. A wagtail bobbed its little black feathers as if to say hello. The marshes were alive, and everything was amazing and new and she wanted to see it all at once.
She sensed a somber respect in Greywolf as soon as the question left her mouth. The warrior paused midtrot, and Bramblepaw feared for a moment that she had said the wrong thing. That maybe she had overstepped some sort of boundary. The she-cat turned to face her, surprising Bramblepaw with the softness in her eyes. “Blackwolf was… intense, by all means of the word.” She sounded as if she were about to laugh. Bramblepaw’s eyes rounded curiously. “He always acted like he didn’t care, but I’m pretty sure that under that grumpy snarl he truly loved all of us.” Bramblepaw tried to picture having grumpy kin. Even Thistleheart, who maintained a distant relationship with his daughter, was affectionate and warm towards her when she approached. “Hollystorm told me once that he changed a lot after his mate died, Ghostlight. I suppose he lost a part of himself that day. That happened before I was born, but sometimes I could see what she was talking about in his eyes.” The thought of such a thing sent a shiver down her spine. She had never considered that losing a cat you loved could do more than hurt. It could shatter a cat’s soul right down the middle, changing who they were. “Woah.” She murmured, awed by the thought of this warrior who had loved and lost long before her birth. Regardless of his so-called grumpiness, a cat who was mourned and missed this much couldn't have been bad, right? “He must have loved her a lot.” She hesitated before continuing. “I guess he must be happy that they’re together again, right?”